The X-men run missions and work together with the NYPD, striving to maintain a peaceful balance between humans and mutants. When it comes to a fight, they won't back down from protecting those who need their help.
Haven presents itself as a humanitarian organization for activists, leaders, and high society, yet mutants are the secret leaders working to protect and serve their kind. Behind the scenes they bring their goals into reality.
From the time when mutants became known to the world, SUPER was founded as a black-ops division of the CIA in an attempt to classify, observe, and learn more about this new and rising threat.
The Syndicate works to help bring mutantkind to the forefront of the world. They work from the shadows, a beacon of hope for mutants, but a bane to mankind. With their guiding hand, humanity will finally find extinction.
Since the existence of mutants was first revealed in the nineties, the world has become a changed place. Whether they're genetic misfits or the next stage in humanity's evolution, there's no denying their growing numbers, especially in hubs like New York City. The NYPD has a division devoted to mutant related crimes. Super-powered vigilantes help to maintain the peace. Those who style themselves as Homo Superior work to tear society apart for rebuilding in their own image.
MRO is an intermediate to advanced writing level original character, original plot X-Men RPG. We've been open and active since October of 2005. You can play as a mutant, human, or Adapted— one of the rare humans who nullify mutant powers by their very existence. Goodies, baddies, and neutrals are all welcome.
Short Term Plots:Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
The Fountain of Youth
A chemical serum has been released that's shaving a few years off of the population. In some cases, found to be temporary, and in others...?
MRO MOVES WITH CURRENT TIME: What month and year it is now in real life, it's the same for MRO, too.
Fuegogrande: "Fuegogrande" player of The Ranger, Ion, Rhia, and Null
Neopolitan: "Aly" player of Rebecca Grey, Stephanie Graves, Marisol Cervantes, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, Sabine Sang, Eupraxia
Ongoing Plots
Magic and Mystics
After the events of the 2020 Harvest Moon and the following Winter Solstice, magic has started manifesting in the MROvere! With the efforts of the Welldrinker Cult, people are being converted into Mystics, a species of people genetically disposed to be great conduits for magical energy.
The Pharoah Dynasty
An ancient sorceress is on a quest to bring her long-lost warrior-king to the modern era in a bid for global domination. Can the heroes of the modern world stop her before all is lost?
Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
Adapteds
What if the human race began to adapt to the mutant threat? What if the human race changed ever so subtly... without the x-gene.
Atlanteans
The lost city of Atlantis has been found! Refugees from this undersea mutant dystopia have started to filter in to New York as citizens and businessfolk. You may make one as a player character of run into one on the street.
Got a plot in mind?
MRO plots are player-created the Mods facilitate and organize the big ones, but we get the ideas from you. Do you have a plot in mind, and want to know whether it needs Mod approval? Check out our plot guidelines.
Jacob continued to monitor the man, and just simply sat back and waited, taking everything in and making mental notes in his mind on his opinion of each individual, with the exception of the young Avian Diplomat, whom he was sure was thankful for not getting tangled in the mess that would have been ugly between himself and Ms. HigherThanThou. He smirked slightly at the joke he made, but didn’t bother to comment. When Sophia selflessly offered to wait until they were done, he was ready to jump at the opportunity to get away from her before the image of himself making her cry became a reality. He addressed the man with the respect he felt that he deserved.
Jacob turned, facing Sam directly, and looked directly into his eyes. He was standing at a modified position of parade rest, his feet shoulder width apart, and his body straight, while his hands cupped the two jars in front of him, in clear view, one in each hand. “Of course, Sir. Honestly, I just need to know who I need to talk to in regards to high-end chemistry. Got a bit of an experiment and I need some assistance with it, and don’t feel like being paralyzed because of my inexperience in the field.” He held up the jars for a moment, then referring to the spiders. “The spiders will remain in their jars, I assure you, Sir.” Once he had his answer, he would be on his way, but until then, he took a step back, once again with his back against the wall, and allowed Mariusz to approach about getting his door opened.
He thought of one more question, but decided it would be best to wait and track down the man a bit later… he seemed to at least have some ranking authority here, so he would be the one he tracked down later to ask about the Jet, as well as that one room he sensed down below that had some impressive mechanical function, even if he didn’t know their purpose.
Jacob was curious it see how today went. He was in the shop, underneath his favored car, but he wasn’t really working… in fact, he was using his ability to his utmost at the moment, and it was dead silent in the shop. The only sound that could be heard was the breathing of his lungs and the beating of his heart… and he hand one hand on the frame of his vehicle, his hand seeming to meld with the metal slightly as he ran through the vehicle in his mind’s eye, through and through. Happy that it was in prime condition, he released it, just in time to hear a tap on the glass. There were three possibilities… it could be a customer trying to get a little bit of work started early, a mechanic who lost his shop key to the back door, or Regan. Sliding out from under the car, he stood up and moved quickly into the nice waiting area.
And it was indeed the Tigress.
Not worried about her knowing of his ability, the lock clicked open on the front door. The glass was lined with metal lines weaving over it, and the entire frame of the shop was all metal, which worked well for deterring thieves and vandals… not to mention the voltage that ran through that metal when the shop’s alarm was engaged. The waiting room itself was nice… a 42 inch flatscreen/DVD player combo was mounted on the wall, free WiFi for customers waiting for their car, and comfortable couches to lounge around in. Jacob waved for her to come in, just in case she didn’t hear the lock disengaging, but he doubted that she couldn’t hear it… it was a three way deadbolt… it was almost impossible not to hear the ‘kachunk’ of metal moving in the door. If the zombie apocalypse occurred, this was probably one of the safest places on earth to be… not to mention the stored food, water and weapons he kept in the safe room.
Not quite a dooms day prepper… but he certainly was ready for almost anything.
“Good morning,” he said enthusiastically as she entered, washing his hands. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to make it. Welcome to your first day of work at my Shop.” It was a simple enough greeting, and now he had to go into the things she needed to know once she came in and had a look around. He motioned towards the receptionists desk, which would be where she would work from, and grabbed the key he had made from the keyboard on the desk. He had a cashier’s drawer that was locked, as they didn’t usually deal in cash often, and required one of the two keys he had in his hand, and the other was for the back door that was around the corner that she would be admitted access to. “I’m afraid you have your work cut out for you today…” he started, pointing to the sticky notes that were almost covering the desks… his ‘appointments’, “…I need you to get these organized and put into the computer… and if we can, get them sorted out so we don’t have too many on any one day. We have been busy in the shop getting work done, so I haven’t had time to sit down and do it myself. Think you can handle that, on top of taking on any customers that walk in?” He had done this on purpose, of course, to test her ability to manage and organize the front desk effectively.
Already, he had hired two more mechanics so he could increase his hours, and his personal project had been working on the foundation for the expansion on the shop. Cars from the junkyard had been moved, a rather large hole had been dug, and the cement had been expertly laid into the earth… he was just waiting for it to harden over the next 24 hours or so, and he would start on the walls… it looked like nothing more than the beginning to a weird shaped basketball court right now, a straight slab of concrete. He, of course, had been doing the work himself, and was taking a well deserved break and running the front desk. No customers in the waiting room, he had gotten himself cleaned up and stepped out of his coveralls, in nothing but an old tan t-shirt, jeans and his tan combat boots that he always wore. He was looking over the schedule when someone walked in the front door. His waiting room was pretty decked out, including free WiFi, a flatscreen mounted on the wall with a built in DVD player, and comfortable but affordable couches to sit around in.
They asked about a bike, and Jacob’s senses fished the vehicle in question’s mechanical signature from the rest. Motorcycles were increadibly easy to work on, so it shouldn’t be a problem. “Sure… I can take a look at it for you.” He grabbed his leather jacket off the back of the chair, walked around the desk, and held his hand out. “Jacob Corbulo,” he said, introducing himself, waiting a moment to see if the man would shake his own hand or not. After a few moments pause, and regardless if he received the handshake or not, he started out the door. The bike had lost power, but still operated, that meant more than likely he was losing compression.
After stepping outside, he moved to the bike without a word, and started looking towards the area where the air intake was. All engines required a proper fuel/air mixture to ignite, so if your air intake sucked up something it shouldn’t have, it can easily hinder performance… and that was what it looked like to him. “My guess, just from looking at it, would be that your bike sucked up something besides air through the air intake, but I would have to bring it inside and take it apart to know for sure.” Truth was, he could diagnose and fix it right here, but that was only with his mutant ability, not his honest handiwork.
Jacob simply shook his head at her response. “No no, you just nearly got mugged and probably worse, I don’t blame you for not paying attention to something as trivial as a sign.” It was true too… not a lot of people were trained to deal with shock like that, and there was no reason for most civilians to want to train themselves like that. He knew some soldiers that struggled with it before he put them through the Shock Training that made you able to deal with that kind of stress and be fine only a few moments later. A lot of it had to do with regulating your breathing. She commented about the commute, and he nodded.
“It certainly does. Plus, no one messes with my place after hours because I’m here to ensure it. Haven’t had many problems, but this place isn’t too far short of a fortress.” He would leave it at that, and if she asked more, he would explain, but some people didn’t like to know too much about that kind of stuff, so he would let her make that call. He moved back to the Keurig machine, and popped in a Hot Cocoa for himself and placed his personalized mug that he got from one of his old units. It had a symbol of a pair of M16’s and a skull in the Jolly Roger style, and a inscription under it saying “To Staff Sergeant Jacob ‘Colt’ Corbulo, our Hawkeye and Armorer”.
Once it was done, he joined her on the couch, and smiled as he replied. “Bought it two years ago, and just paid it off a few months ago. All I have to do is maintain, and that isn’t hard when you have all the tools to do it.” It was a true fact, but he didn’t delve into the fact that his mutant ability made it considerably easier, not to mention cheaper, to fix a great many things. That was one reason he was so successful, is he was able to fix certain things without having to pay for parts, and it was good use of his ability to build up his stamina. He hadn’t tried anything too risky yet, but he had done quite a bit of work.
Jacob smiled a little bit, taking the time to fish out the sugar that was stashed near the coffee maker, grabbing four packets, and the milk that was in the mini-fridge underneath it. In the matter of a few short minutes, he had a nice warm beverage and addressed her concerns and questions. “I guess that is a fair precaution. It’s hard for me, of course, as I was always told that shaking a person’s hand was just about mandatory when greeting them.” He paused for a moment, and then wondered how good she was at paying attention.
He made no outward change, but mentally, he thought about what had been revealed… He had a large sign hanging above the entrance of the shop where it met the road, stating ‘Jacob’s Junkyard and Shop’, and he was pretty sure he had already introduced himself. But then again, there were a lot of Jacobs, so perhaps she just wanted to be sure that he was indeed the owner. Still, he had been given a compliment, and that could only be responded with in one way… pride. Handing her the warm beverage, he responded. “Be careful, it’s hot,” he warned, then proceeded to answer and respond with “yes, I own the shop, and thank you for the compliment. I have put a lot of work into this place… but it helps that the upstairs is where I live too.” Live where you work, and you make it a lot easier to get to work. He literally could roll out of bed and be where he needed to be in order to get paid. Not a bad way to be.
Jacob forged a path, using his ability to disengage the alarm and security system as he approached the front door to the waiting area and reception desk. Jacob had several comfortable couches, a mounted flatscreen on the wall with a built-in DVD player, and free WiFi, all to keep his customers happy while they waited. He was actually looking into possible expanding his shop, adding four more bays on the other side, as his business was starting to get busy as word spread of his skill as a mechanic and the quality of work from his shop. Once he was under the light of his front door, he took a good look at his hands. This woman had refused his handshake as well, and he couldn’t figure out if they were stained or something, but they looked clean. Shaking it off, he then opened the door, allowing Verdigris and Jack to enter.
“Willow is a very pretty last name, he said, not really thinking anything of the comment aside the fact that he had made it in his own opinion. Once they were inside, he immediately moved to the refreshments counter, grabbing a mug and spinning the Keurig cups. “What would you like? I have coffee, cappuccino, tea, and hot cocoa, or if you prefer something cold, I have plenty of that as well.” He wouldn’t push too hard, but offering her a warm cup of Joe was definitely called for on the steadily cold winter nights here.
Jacob noticed the visible wince when he mentioned that he was a member of the armed forces. Perhaps he had a bad run in with another troop of some kind, but regardless, he would forgo mentioning anything else relating to that for the moment. No need for previous animosity to take precedence and make this conversation any harder than it already was. He nodded as he was given a name to match to her face, and proceeded with a simple query; “I recognize it slightly, and from your words earlier, Russian, correct?” He had a few friends that were originally from Russia… good guys, and occasionally they would talk in Russian. He had no clue what was being said, just the general dialect.
That being said, it was time to come clean. “The reason I made that assumption, Ma’am, is I am a mutant, and I have heard rumors that there are people who can turn people’s powers off, and others who can make them much stronger in their ability. When I accidently bumped you… my ability was enhanced… I’m fortunate to have control over my ability, but I can certainly understand your predicament about not wanting to accidently bump the wrong person, if I am indeed correct in my thoughts that you are the latter variety. I don’t want anything other than to understand better.”
Jacob noticed the visible wince when he mentioned that he was a member of the armed forces. Perhaps he had a bad run in with another troop of some kind, but regardless, he would forgo mentioning anything else relating to that for the moment. No need for previous animosity to take precedence and make this conversation any harder than it already was. He nodded as he was given a name to match to her face, and proceeded with a simple query; “I recognize it slightly, and from your words earlier, Russian, correct?” He had a few friends that were originally from Russia… good guys, and occasionally they would talk in Russian. He had no clue what was being said, just the general dialect.
That being said, it was time to come clean. “The reason I made that assumption, Ma’am, is I am a mutant, and I have heard rumors that there are people who can turn people’s powers off, and others who can make them much stronger in their ability. When I accidently bumped you… my ability was enhanced… I’m fortunate to have control over my ability, but I can certainly understand your predicament about not wanting to accidently bump the wrong person, if I am indeed correct in my thoughts that you are the latter variety. I don’t want anything other than to understand better.”
Jacob was thankful they hadn’t hurt her. Two men attacking a woman walking her dog… deplorable, but sadly, common in today’s day and age. He didn’t want to think of what was likely to have happened if he hadn’t stepped in, and she wasn’t exactly bad looking, so it was not hard to imagine what likely would have occurred. His adrenaline was starting to subside, and he relaxed slightly, trying his best to calm himself. In an effort to do just that, he reached out with a hand, offering it in greeting. “Jacob Corbulo. I own a shop just behind me, if you want to stop for by for a minute and warm up, Ma’am.” It was cold, and no one should just keep on alone after that encounter.
It would be best that they didn’t try to come back and follow them either. Men like that who got manhandled probably would want vengeance, and he didn’t want that… it would be a bad day. Perhaps if she accepted that much of an invitation, he would offer her a ride to wherever she needed to get to… and then he eyed Jack, her dog, figuring out which breed he was. Dog hair… always could be a problem when it came to the leather seats of his car… it stuck to them but a lint roller would handle that easily enough. Regardless of her decision, he turned, preparing to make the walk back towards his shop, since it was on her way anyhow, and keep the men at bay. Judging by the way their mechanical signatures were moving, the big guy was awake now… but they weren’t heading their direction. He would keep an ear out for them just in case.
Not that he really needed to worry about them once he got into his shop… he had certain things in place to handle any unwanted trespassers, cleverly concealed in his building. After all, it was more than just a shop… it was his home, and his livelihood. They reached the entranceway, and he paused, wondering if she had made a decision, turning around and bending at his knee’s scratching the dog behind his ears if he allowed it.
She was a soldier without guidance. As she continued to talk, he sympathized with her plight, regardless of the fact that he didn’t show it. He didn’t want to seem like he was going to pity her, as that was a fast way to make a soldier stop talking to you and stop listening. Soldier’s were supposed to be strong, follow orders and kick ass, not be weak, regardless of the fact that they were still very human, regardless of genetics, and had the same issues as every other person in the world. He continued to listen, making his assessments, and realizing that there was one key thing that she didn’t have, and that was guidance. She didn’t think for herself, or perhaps, she didn’t want to, but a good soldier is able to adapt, and overcome the obstacles in their way. Once she was finished, he pulled out an old Army quote.
“There is no plan that survives the trials of combat. He paused for a moment, letting those words peruse her mind for a moment. “If you want to be a good soldier, you have to be able to adapt, and make decisions based on what you think is the right thing to do.” He paused again, making a mental decision in his mind, and hoping that he wouldn’t regret doing so.
“Do you want to be a good soldier?” He paused again, letting the very blunt question sink in and allowing her to respond if she did so instinctively. Regardless, he would continue. “I have trained hundreds of people, human and mutant, how to be a good soldier. It’s not easy, but it can be done, and there have been people who are a whole lot more lost and uncertain than you that I have been able to make into soldiers that any Commander would be proud of. I can teach you, if you would choose to follow me.” He wouldn’t try to force her; it was her decision, and one that she probably wouldn’t be able to make on the spot. That was fine, and he grabbed a card from his inside pocket, bringing his information and he prepared to hand it to her if she was still very uncertain.
Jacob hoped she would accept, because a Soldier with her kind of power lashing out at humanity was only going to make things worse… especially if there was a fight between the two varieties of humans. She would be killed, one way or another, simply because she had been publicly labeled as someone who was a threat… and he hoped he could change that.
Sometimes, Jacob’s senses were a real pain in the ass.
He was working on an over-night job, his favorite type to tinker with in order to make sure the vehicle is in prime condition and checking to make sure that he had gotten everything fixed and found any issues that the owner, a Police Officer, hadn’t found yet. He was the unofficial mechanic for most of the New York Police, but he didn’t advertise, and the word had been spread from one person to another in a simple friendly way. Still, he liked to use his ability to ensure that he had indeed gotten everything, and as he rubbed his hand on the side of the car that was on the lift, he closed his eyes, working his ability through all the moving parts. He should probably suggest to the owner to replace the power steering belt, as it was getting a bit worn, but he had seen that with his eyes. He liked to do most of his work physically rather than using his ability all the time, but it was always good to double tap.
That was when he sensed it… just off his property by the car wash that had broken down. Someone had a firearm… and there was two people closing in on one person. Gritting his teeth, he set down his tools and walked into the Lobby, grabbing his jacket off the receptionist chair and moving towards the front door. He moved with good speed, walking expeditiously, and used his ability to ensure that he had his own pistol, a custom 1911, in his jacket, regardless that the chances were that he wouldn’t need it. As he walked out the front door, he used his ability to activate the alarm system on his shop, a high-voltage deterrent from theft, burglary or vandalism, and moved towards the front entrance. It wouldn’t take him long, and he locked in on the figures. She was just about to bump into the one person with the firearm waiting in ambush…
Jacob moved quickly, but slowed ever so slightly to ensure he was completely and utterly silent. Slipping into the shadows, he placed each footfall deliberately, his tan combat boots not making a sound as he placed his heel down, and rolled his foot forward, minimizing impact and ensuring that there was no bounce. The second person had a switchblade, but that really wasn’t an issue there… it was simple enough to keep the blade from revealing itself by seizing up the mechanical function. He wanted to find out what was going on. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, and he recognized the vague shapes of two men, one of which holding the victim, a woman, in a tight bear hug. Two grown men, attacking a woman walking her dog. Awesome… sometimes Jacob really wondered if anyone had any sense of honor or dignity in the world today.
Moving quickly, he reached the first individual, using his superior 6’ 3” height to his advantage, and reached around the man’s neck, getting him in a rear naked choke. He didn’t even get time to call for help as Jacob squeezed, cutting of both blood and airflow to the man’s head, and pulling him backwards. The man instinctively reached up, trying to pry his arms off before he went slack, falling unconscious as his brain shut down due to the lack of blood flowing to his brain. This happened all in the manner of seconds, and the second person was just realizing that she wasn’t being held. Picking up the man, who was probably a good 200 pounds, he carried him to the second person, and heaved him into the trail-party’s chest, knocking him backwards with the weight of the unconscious man. He then drew his pistol. “Leave, before I have to figure out where to bury you two cowards.” Without hesitation, the other man nodded, knowing his knife wasn’t going to do him much good against a pistol, and began to drag his buddy away. After he was confident that they weren’t coming back, he turned towards the young woman. “Are you alright, Ma’am?”
Jacob recognized the reaction… she still felt threatened, if he could guess, and he probably wasn’t doing any favors in that direction considering how blunt his conversation normally was. Worked great on the most men, and the more ‘hands on’ type of females, but when it came to talking to a normal woman, Jacob was a novice. Perhaps he should try a different approach. Putting his hands up slightly, he ensured there was enough distance between them that he wasn’t hovering over her, and took in a breath. She played it off well, he had to admit, and if he wasn’t sure of what had happened, he would have probably backed off the situation and tried to figure out what had occurred.
“I apologize Ma’am. My name is Jacob Corbulo, Retired Army, and owner of Jacob’s Junkyard and Shop.” He instinctively held out his hand to shake hers, and only after a moment, and likely a look from her wondering why he was trying to shake her hand, did he withdraw it, recalling the ‘please don’t touch me’ comment from earlier. If she did shake his hand, it would be gentle yet firm. He really needed to work on his social skills… just plain horrible. He then gave her the opportunity to introduce herself.
Jacob could almost smell the apprehension coming from the young woman. She didn’t like this situation, but was willing to oblige her, and thus, he would have to reassure her that he meant her absolutely no harm. But how was he, a man with not so small stature, going to do that? He couldn’t sit down, because there were no chairs, and talking to someone who is sitting on the floor in an art gallery was not really something most sane people did. He considered it for a moment while they walked to the private room, and he too made sure that the guards had a clear line of sight, which would hopefully ease the tension a bit.
“Thank you Ma’am… I can tell talking to me is something that you perhaps would rather not do, and I am glad you chose to oblige me. I am merely curious about what has happened to me… I feel… supercharged, if that makes any sense… it’s amazing.” It was not a lie either… he had an odd look in his eye that seemed similar to a kid on Christmas, that gleam that they had just been given something truly spectacular and didn’t know how or why. Part of his didn’t care, but this was something that he certainly wanted to know more about, because he felt really powerful in his ability right now. He also knew that he couldn’t come at her too strong, kept his distance, and stood to where both his hands were exposed, no ability to pull out a weapon or hide anything. He also looked at her dead in the eyes, to show his respect for the woman and try to convey that he was being truthful.
Jacob waited a few moments, allowing her time to think about his request and fix her coat, and then she accepted his invitation. That worked out well… he hadn’t expected it to be so simple as for her to accept his invitation. He never did have much practice talking with women, and this Russian woman, based on the accent and her speech towards the kids earlier, was nothing if not beautiful. She was a bit young for Colt to look at in any way but Society’s typical view of women, but that was fine with him, he didn’t think there would be many people looking at a grease jockey anyway.
Jacob took a position by her side, and she said something that confirmed every suspicious that he had formed about his brush with her earlier. “I’m afraid it’s a little late for that, Ma’am, but it is amazing. Although I would like to talk to you…” he paused, looking around, and found an art viewing room close by that was vacant, “…perhaps somewhere a little more discreet?” Hopefully she accepted, as mutants weren’t always taken kindly to by the general populace, and thus, talking about different abilities and stuff like that was generally best kept to a need to know basis. If she accepted, he would walk with her towards the room, and they could talk there.
Time to get started. He lifted one of several blocks of gunmetal, a form of carbonized steel that he had bought several of to ensure he had spares available for when he mucked up, and gently placed it into the holding arms in his machine. He had inspected the machine several times, both physically and with his ability, to ensure that it was in proper working order, and it wouldn’t be responsible for messing up his project. Any error would come from his design, not the machine. Sitting back, he looked at the screen, and gave a silent hope to the machine that it would work on the first time. Chances weren’t good for him though… he was still learning this new CAD program, and using it for a firearm was tough.
He hit the ‘Begin Sculpt’ button on the screen, and turned to watch. Instantly the block was locked into place forcibly with another pair of arms, and it began to slowly spin. A pair of drills, diamond tipped, began to spin at high speeds and shave the metal off the outside of the block. This process would take a while, but he didn’t care, he sat there and watched and monitored and willed his creation to come to life in the form of cold, hard machinery. If he could just get this right, it would open the doorway to making all sorts of other firearms, and possibly other types of equipment. His mind began to idly think of the different things he would try to make… but he also knew some of it was going to require military grade schematics… not his home-made variety. He didn’t have a degree in the required fields to make the body armor he wanted, he needed someone who knew what they were doing to work on that for him. Maybe he could get Captain Green, his old commander, to see who he could talk to. The man still owed him a favor, after all, when he stopped him from stepping on a landmine back in Kandahar several years ago.
Regardless, Jacob slipped his consciousness into a state of Zen, where time itself was no longer a factor, but his senses were expanded and monitoring everything around him. This allowed him to monitor the store, as he could hear the audio feed from the lobby which was vacant at the moment. His mechanics, as it was a working day, were in the shop working on a few oil changes and little stuff, and he could turn his head if he wanted to watch that, but his eyes were pointed in the general direction of the weapon being crafted slowly, watching the shavings fall away and give birth to what was looking like a perfect piece of machinery.
