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Ty could tell she was jumpy, though he still couldn't quite place her. Oh well, it didn't really matter all that much, right? What mattered was now. The young man checked himself over, black tee shirt with a green fish on it didn't have a single flaw, and his skin didn't have the slightest scratch.

"Nah, I'm fine. Besides, this day and age, a knick ain't nothin'. I've had it alot worse." He gave a slight shrug before extending his right hand to her, wearing a pair of black fingerless gloves instead of his usual green. Actually, the green ones were back home, in the wash.

"I'm Ty," he said kindly.

"'The time has come,' the Fisher said, 'to talk of many things. Of plots and plans and silly hats, of cabbages and kings. And while the city is distraught, and logic's lost it's sting..."

'Rena and I have been working on this idea for awhile, and though there are kinks and holes in it we need to work out, we thought it was about time to bring it to light. The basis of the idea is this: MRO+Alice in Wonderland.

For Origin, this will likely end up being a dream; some are aware of this, and some aren't. Or maybe it's an illusion. It's real, and yet it isn't. The exact origin of this dream/illusion is unknown.

As a result of this, however, NYC has become its own version of Alice in Wonderland. The city is now twisted and colorful, and nothing really logically makes sense. Characters' appearances have changed to somewhat represent the setting, and mutations either work differently than they usually would--either to some quirky or useless extent--or not at all.

As far as timeline continuity goes, I'm not entirely sure. I'm thinking it lasts as long as we want, having no real effect on present-day plot, but in RP time it lasts the exact equivalent of one good night's sleep.

This is the foundation that we have laid out. Any feedback is welcome~

Wait...Ty admitted he should have seen that one coming but...crap. From the corner of his eye, Ty surveyed the target in question. He almost looked...nervous. And he wasn't in a group like the rest of them. Maybe he was new. Then again according to Roach, he was in the heart of this gang's turf. Home-field advantage definitely did not go to the ginger in the jacket.

Slowly, Ty stood to his feet, casually walking down the sidewalk and slipping into a side alley. Sticking to the shadows, he snuck around until he was behind the target in question. Then...he struck, gloved hands grabbing the bandanna and pulling it tighter around his neck and dragging him by it into the alley.

The man let out a yelp in surprise, and a gasp for help before he died, but it was almost as quiet as Ty had planned. Removing the body's bandanna, he slipped it into his coat pocket, tucking it away as he started up the nearest fire escape.

Ty snapped back to reality when he collided with someone. Neither of them fell; it was just a shoulder to shoulder bump. It hurt him a little, yes, but more than that, he felt bad about hitting someone.

"No, it's my fault," Ty argued gently. "I was running and not looking where I was going. I've just had alot on my mind is all. Or not on my mind...Or...I don't know." Ty couldn't help but think this gargoyle looked familiar, somehow, but he didn't really dwell on it. "You okay? I mean, I didn't hurt you or anything, did I?"

Running.

Ty didn't know why, exactly, but he found himself running. Blowing off steam, burning energy? He didn't know. He'd woken up at the crack of dawn and left Sanctuary while Noel was still asleep. Once outside the golden doors, the kid just took off running the all-too familiar terrain of New York City. Climbing fire escapes, leaping from roof to roof, then climbing back down onto the city below. And once feet touch the ground again, keep on running.

Not that the boy was running away from anything. He just planned on running a few blocks before heading back home and going back to sleep. It felt good to be able to run again, not having to hobble or limp anymore. Though the scar on his leg would be a constant reminder.

But this whole running thing, it was a rush. A way to lose oneself. Sure, there were two or three things about his life that he could no longer remember, but it didn't matter. He was still a somewhat troubled young man, but all of his troubles melted away into the pitter-patter of his own footsteps.

He took a sharp turn into an alley, not slowing down, and by this point he wasn't paying too much attention. The only thing he noticed was the feeling of the wind against his face, blowing his ginger hair everywhere.

Climbing into the car and slamming the door, Ty quickly snapped on his seatbelt.He was still fueled by rage, and impatient to get to where they were going.

"It's an old curio and antiques shop on such-and-such avenue. When the owner died, the family just left it there. The deed, the rights to the building, they touched nothing. I went through this urban exploration phase, so I've been there once or twice."

Ty actually seemed to calm down. That is, until Rupert asked about who Simon threatened. "You don't care," he said flatly, not even looking at the man. "I'm just some punk mutant kid off the street. My problems, my life, none of that means a hill of **** to you. I know it, you know it. I'm only useful to you because of my mutation. All you need to know is that your buddy Simon gave me just as much--if not more--reason than you to see that he's dead." Ty glared out the window. If you lay one hand on my ****ing sister, I swear to everything holy....

Paige will be wearing this dress with this mask.