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.
Though Roland needed his hands for work, the temptation was there to use them anyway. It might actually be worth their swift departure. As Nehanda continued to gaze out at the ceiling, Roland took the time to do some scanning himself. With her eyes clearly focused, there was no reason not to enjoy the view from his position, imagining it sans bodysuit. it was a good thing that he had taken the opportunity as she finally pulled away from him after looking out the other wall.
Roland watched in a different fashion as Nehanda moved to take out the camera. It was sexy as hell, but not due to the various angles of her body, but more that she was so disciplined and well versed in said body. He watched her swing up and imagined the smooth moguls that had to be her abs as she held her self parallel to the floor. She swung back in with the grace of the gazelle hanging upside down. He was amazed that her glasses didn't come off more than anything else.
"There's a trap door in the ceiling at the end of the hall. Right over that clock of yours. It's got a microphone attached to the lock, so I'm guessing tone-activated. Be right behind you."Roland was reattaching the seal of his mask back to his suit. as much as he enjoyed the cool air, he'd need the HUD. A small earpiece appeared in his hand, which he tossed to Nehanda, who nimbly caught it. " Put that on so you can hear me in the suit." Once the seal was attached at the back, Roland used his mutation to reseal it back on to his body, the seam vanishing as the thin red line of the HUD glimmered briefly.
He moved past her through the doorway and looked up, seeing the camera as it arced around the ceiling. Excellent. Freedom of mobility was always preferred. He looked to his left and saw the imprint on the floor where the clock had been and then it was there again, in its rightful place. He took off in a sprint and jumped up into the corner of the hall, his knees pushed against the corners while his toes kept him gingerly on the trim. A small round disc, akin to a hockey puck appeared in his hand. He set its magnetic backing against the center of the trapdoor and activated it. It ran through multiple tones, sounding like the computer from a Buck rogers episode. The color one, not the black and white one. With a satisfying 'click!', the door slid into the ceiling, the device no longer attached.
He saw Nehanda coming down from the door frame as he pulled his way up into the attic. It was huge and there were no words to describe the sight ahead of him. His head cocked to the side, as spectrums flipped through the HUD. There were at least fifty various beams of varying frequencies crisscrossing the room, all centered around a pedestal. On the pedestal, beneath a cube of what was surely bulletproof glass, sat the egg. Roland knew he had little time, so he quickly traded the egg with the duplicate he had brought, which was of similar dimensions, though shoddily painted, but at a glance would fool most. He could hear Nehanda coming, so he put the egg in his suit, sealed in a foam oval shell as the duplicate had been. He stepped back and put his hand out for her when she made it up.
Setting up had been easy enough. The appearance of the centaur had caused plenty enough distraction. It had been a boon to his work to have things work out like that. Many times he wondered if he wasn't blessed by Lady Luck Herself. Too many things had either gone wrong or worked entirely in his favor in his career to not at least entertain the possibility. The three were exchanging courtesies, so to speak. Roland took the opportunity to cover his mouth and whisper, his hand cupping toward the microphone."Hylonme is a nine foot centaur."
Roland's tolerance for the midnight angel was reaching its peak. Too many people could wander by and notice the drama unfolding. He had the satchel. He would allow the girl a small victory. For a price."He might not have known it at the time, but he wasn't going to harm me... he wasn't even going to walk away with anything of the store's either. I'm sure he would have even come to that conclusion on his own merit.He hadn't acted on anything yet. There's still hope for him." Roland put the icepick back in his pocket. He looked over at Junior, whose eyes were flashing between the two who were deciding his fate. " It appears your guardian Angel has saved you, boy. If I see your face again, I won't. Shoo."
Junior didn't need telling twice, mouthing the words 'Thank you' to his savior and beating feet. Roland thought of the Olympics and the many fine track and field athletes when he saw the boy run for his life, literally. Roland then turned to the girl, relaxing his posture. " So, now it is you and I. I congratulate you in your efforts to save the boy. I was really only after what he had stolen from me. Perhaps we can chat a bit now that he is gone. I am quite interested in you, myself.. Though, not for the reasons he was. "
He moved all of the items in the jumpsuit to his suit beneath while pacing and speaking, via mutation. "I am most interested in your previous claims. You said that not only was the boy not going to harm you, but he wouldn't be walking away with anything that belonged to the store. That's quite a claim from a pretty little thing like yourself. I was wondering if you could clarify your statement for me." He was fairly sure that the condescension in his voice would be enough to put the girl on edge, possibly pushing her to indeed show him her talents, whatever they might be.
He stopped mid pace and pointed toward the door of the store." Did you want to go ahead and lock that? I assure you there's nothing of interest in there for me." He smiled and waited patiently. He was not going to be leaving her company for some time. At the moment, the boy was surely free, yet she was not. She had bartered with his life. With her own.
When Nehanda was pulled into his arms, Roland received something much better than the knee to the groin he mentally prepared himself for. She actually stared into his eyes. He joined the consensual gaze with her for the brief moment before it was time for action. He watched as she turned her head and pushed her amazing mutation through thewall, detecting that there were three targets. Oh, if only he could sway her to help him. His jobs would be so simple with Neena at his side.
Her milky orbs glanced at him from the side of her shades."I'm warning you now, I don't trust you," she whispered back. "But as I'm sure we've both grown fond of breathing, a truce sounds preferable to argument at the moment." Her gazed narrowed slightly. "Just keep that hand cannon of yours out of my face, back and any other body parts."Roland smiled and nodded agreeably. He was mostly pleased that she had never moved from his grasp, still pressed firmly against him. Although he had pulled her to him, the arm around the waist was optional. The fact that she was still pressed so close to him couldn't bode poorly on his chances with her.
He watched as she perused the room with her vision, though more than likely she was having a look all over the house, finding a new route. It's what he would do. "The hand cannon will remain sheathed. What about the hand?" He smirked and drummed his fingers against her lower back. He was pleasantly surprised as her vision seemed to continue an upward angle. Perhaps he could still get out with the egg and the girl. It'd be quite an evening."How good are you at picking electronic locks?" Neena was whispering, so he did the same, a bit closer to her ear. " As good as you are at seeing them, dear."
Roland ignored the comment about the ownership of said mugger. While it might have been apparent to the young lady that she had been involved with the boy first, Roland had his eye on him for several hours. Stranger still is that this apparent victim would claim her assailant, revealing further that there was more to her than met the eye. Junior was beginning to stammer out his version of an apology when the young lady further intrigued Roland by waving it off as if it were merely a slight.
"So... Thank you and everything, but... I think maybe Mister Mugger has already learned his lesson for today?" Roland seemed to seriously consider the possibility of letting him go. He truly only wanted the satchel. The boy might actually go on to better things after someone had shown him where darkness really began. Roland steeled himself in his conviction. Live or die, Junior still needed a primer. " I appreciate your kind heart, Miss. It's rare to find such a thing in this world. However, I am afraid that Junior here must receive an education regardless of the outcome. In fact, the outcome will be solely based on his comprehension of the material." Roland rolled his neck and walked around the the boy's front, so he could bear the weight of his eyes upon him.
Watery orbs looked back at him. No longer was he Mister Tough, now he was Mister Baby. "First subject. I believe you have something that belongs to me. I'll have it now. This one is pass or fail." The boy kept his misty eyes planted firmly on Roland while he reached into his coat pocket and revealed the satchel, handing it to the man. Roland took it from him and put it into one of the side pockets of the jumpsuit."Very good. You're well on your way, son." Roland sized Junior up, assessing him carefully.
The young lady decided to intervene on Junior's behalf yet again. "There's no need for threats here. It's just a misunderstanding, easily forgiven." Roland wondered if this had become an open class with more than one student. He turned his attention to the young lady, knowing full well that Mister Baby wouldn't dare move a muscle. " You seem rather confident about all of this, dear. I must assume that either you are as naive as a baby or you yourself have some sort of defense which makes you feel so completely unattached from your previous predicament. Do you think that Junior here would have merely taken the cash once you two were locked up snug and tight inside? Surely you heard the noise he made when you bent over. I did. That wasn't the sound of pleasantries."
Roland spun on his heel toward the boy again." Why don't you illuminate us? You obviously wanted her as well as the cash. Is that not so?" The lad's eyes rolled around in his skull as if the irises weren't attached. Roland slipped his hand into a pocket and returned with the icepick, his eyebrows raised in wait for an answer."I-I don't know. She's pretty hot. She probably would have wanted it anyway. They ---" Roland had his hand raised for silence, which Junior readily accompanied with it. " They all want it. Isn't that right? I'm afraid I'll have to put that as a black mark on your record." He turned once more to the young lady." How do you feel about your mugger now, considering he could have been your rapist as well?"
Roland watched the boy. Even his quarry was aware of him. Though it would be oblivious to someone like Junior, she clearly moved her eyes for a moment, ears perking. She got up on her toes to push the garbage in, daintily touching the lid of the dumpster as if too much contact might give her a disease. Of course, in New York, that was a distinct possibility. He watched the thug move as she turned, doing a cartoonish tippytoe behind her and then placing something against her back. He couldn't tell what it was or he would have taken his toy away then and there.
"If you do exactly what I say, maybe I'll let you live."Big words from such a little boy. The apparent enthusiasm in the girl's response made Roland genuinely smirk. Perhaps she was secretly a master martial artist or there was someone bigger and badder waiting for her down the alley farther. Roland lifted his chin but saw no one. Either way, she had only increased his anger. Good for Roland, possibly bad for the young girl. "Pick up the key and turn around, we're going inside for the cash."
When she bent over for the key, Junior made a noise of guttural desire. Not that Roland could totally blame him, even from his distance and angle, the view was definitely worth it. Still, there was some manner of respect that one had to carry before they should ever title themselves higher than thug or paperboy. While Roland could tolerate larceny and assault, rape was not something he would abide by. The girl seemed to also pick up on the intent behind the sound as she stood and turned slowly, key in hand.
"You don't have to do this you, know.I just don't want you to get into more trouble than you can get out of. Is this all really worth it?" It was noble for the supposed victim to take such a stance of favor for Junior. It was too bad for him that his fate was sealed the moment he walked into the alley. Roland felt it was his duty to give him some lessons to take with him to the great thug paradise that he would be sending Junior to shortly. The boy stood with knife in hand, neither seeing nor hearing Roland move up on him.
Roland placed the business end of the icepick against the base of Junior's neck while resting the other hand on his shoulder for both comfort and reiteration. " Drop that knife, if you would." The knife seemed to leap from the boy's hand into the darkness, clattering about as Roland reassured him of his conviction with some extra pressure. " First smart thing you have done all evening. How does it feel to be at the other end of the scenario?" Roland patted the boy's shoulder firmly with the free hand and squeezed his shoulder.
He turned to the girl and nodded his head to her in a friendly way, smiling. " Evening, Miss. Sorry to keep you from your duties. I just need to have a little chat with my new friend here. You are welcome to stay or go." He stepped away from the thug, relieving the point from his skull. " Now, before you run away, boy, I'd remind you that I also have a gun, complete with silencer. I am an excellent marksman, so it's best if you do as I say for the time being. Are we clear?" The cool aura of fear surrounded the lad as he nodded silently. Manners already. He was a fast learner. " If you'd be so kind to apologize to the young lady, we can begin our lessons."
Roland always enjoyed the night. Sure, jobs could be done as easily during the daylight hours, but they weren't as fun. The night embraced him and he always felt as if its inherent mystery blessed him in his efforts. He had been tailing a guy for most of the evening. It was definitely a mere courier and an amateur at best. Ever since things had gone awry thanks to Perry, Roland had waited until the right time to make a small stab back at him, if only to draw a bit of blood. Watching the scene unfold initially had been a pleasure, due to its essence of pure luck and opportunity.
He had watched Perry for a few days and had seen him give a small satchel to what seemed to be one of his regular bagmen. That courier would have been difficult to track and harder to capture. Fortunately, at the proper place and time, Roland had seen this gentleman take a beating from a group of local hoods. Judging by the youths' general demeanor, even hoods was stretching it. They were just lucky, finding something that was well out of their reach. Once the man was unconscious, they took to rifling through his pockets, the 'leader' keeping the satchel for himself. They parted ways and the head hood, as it were, did his novice best to make tracks.
The boy had stopped and made a phone call on his way through Central Park. Roland chose not to use any devices, preferring to hone his natural talents this night. Judging from the multiple hits the phone took from the receiver and the general cursing from the lad, he could only assume the call didn't go too well. There was ire in his stride now, making him much easier to deal with. Losing your nerve while working was the number one way to be caught, or robbed yourself. Wearing a gray jumpsuit akin to something a mechanic might wear, Roland continued to follow his prey from a reasonable distance.
His gloved fingers pressed gingerly at the bruised area around his slowly healing rib, a reminder of his run in with Nehanda. It was as good to him as lipstick on a collar. The foliage ceased as the Park gave way to another type of dark forest, the alleys of New York at night. The boy just continued his oblivious march onward, giving a kick of anger to a cat, as its angered yeowl echoed. Roland could only shake his head in disbelief at the lack of even general awareness of this thing that could only be called a thug.
Roland slowed his pace until he was enclosed by darkness in the alley. An icepick found his fingers and he twirled it about skillfully, the blood moving through his fingers in ready anticipation for the kill. The thug had stopped for some reason and had made his first attempt at being quiet, moving towards a stack of pallets and ducking behind it. Roland knew the sudden change wasn't over him, so he moved up a bit closer, staying close to the wall and breathing lightly through his nose. Seemed like Junior was looking for a party favor to lighten his mood, as a young and pretty white haired girl was standing outside the back entrance of a building, rummaging through her pockets, more than likely for keys.
Roland listened to Nehanda's summary of answers thoughtfully, nodding in agreement. He stood up tentatively, her eyes watching him warily. Her hands rested on her hips and Roland found it hard not to find her attractive, even in her stalwart anger. Perhaps even more attractive." I do happen to know the owner of this house. She actually sets up houses like these specifically to test those who believe their skills worthy enough to break it. I can assure you, while she would be pleased at our progress, finding us here will prove fatal for both of us."
”So, now you’re trying to convince me that, while the tour request and overwhelmed widower act was merely a pretense, the invitation for a night out wasn’t? Well you’re certainly a cocky one, aren’t you?” Roland stretched his legs and took a step closer. Just a baby step, still inside the confines of the shower stall.'I prefer confident, though I have certainly been called cocky before. I think that this would qualify as a shared experience of exploration, wouldn't you? Perhaps we can work together to ensure we both get out and see other nights together." He really hoped that she might take the bait, as it was genuine. He thought of the brilliant egg above him, desiring it only slightly less than he desired the woman standing before him.
Roland was preparing to speak again when the bathroom light came on of its own volition. That meant only one thing and it wasn't good news.Kimi was home and more than likely not too far away. Nehanda's profile was clear in the window, now illuminated by the lights. He instinctually grabbed for her and pulled her hard against him, his arm around her waist.He could see the immediate outrage at his actions. He whispered to her, hoping to avoid close quarters combat." Sorry for the sudden intimacy, but you were a clear shot in the window with the lights on. Looks like someone is here and possibly aware. We are both making it out of here, together."
Outside of an intense fury, Nehanda seemed to take the news rather well. He expected another kick, more than likely not to his ribs, but somewhere a bit more sensitive. She dripped sarcasm in her replies of being cheerful about the lies. This was also expected. Roland was just having the hardest time deciding where to go from here. He knew the conversation would continue for sure, but then what? Every time prior to this it had ended with an execution, to ensure that Roland's anonymity remained.
"I test security systems. It's a hobby." Nehanda reached out and took the sunglasses from him. "I don't usually have to deal with security risks other than myself." Roland stretched and squatted down in the shower stall, nodding at her statements." Fair enough. However, does the owner of the house know that you were checking his security systems? Or do you generally check them out at your own discretion? Also, do the young, impressionable students know about your nightly escapades? I am in no position to judge, of course. I merely wanted to get across to you that we may not be all that different."
He hoped that the lowered position might put her at ease. He also left his hands palm down on his knees to show he was as unarmed as he was getting. He continued to look into her eyes, well aware of their places behind the dark lenses. "I am certainly not the typical suitor. Nonetheless, you are still standing here and listening to me. So perhaps my efforts are not completely in vain?" He smiled, but only on the inside. His use of charm only seemed to exacerbate the situation. Best to be neutral and wait for her reaction.
Usually when a well oiled machine is running smoothly, Murphy comes from the skies and throws a monkeywrench into the gears, grinning from up on high at your chagrin of the situation. Roland pointed his eyes upward, mumbling.'Thanks Murph.' as his particular monkeywrench came in the form of a female centaur. Yes, a centaur. No doubt that roland seemed as surprised as many of the humans who were quickly finishing their cappucinos or just leaving altogether at the entrance of the human/horse hybrid. She was huge.
Roland took the opportunity of the mass exodus to push his way through the people and shake some rain off. He had noticed that a young couple and just been seated and a steaming hot cup of coffee remained near the exit, in a small booth , virtually untouched. He slid into the seat which faced the general seating area and grabbed a nearby newspaper, putting it in front of him .He moved the video monitor over to his left side, facing the main area of the shop and his microphone was firmly planted in the opposite ear.
He could no longer see Melissa as he scanned the dark and rainy exterior of the shop. There was no doubt that she was somewhere out there, though. He simply read his paper and sipped his coffee, waiting for his quarry and their giant companion to sit. He grinned a bit imagining where the centaur was going to sit. He hoped she didn't block his view or his hearing. 'Get up a bit earlier before trifling with me, Murph.', he thought to himself.
Nehanda turned on her heel and blinked rapidly, seemingly shaken by the revelation.He certainly had expected as much. If fumes could come from her ears like in an old Tex Avery cartoon, they surely would have. It was perfectly understandable, though Roland still felt she should be happy that he hadn't shot her the multiple times he had the chance to. Holding the mask in his hand, he leaned back against the shower wall.
"Jordan?? Talk?? What in the hellpits if the Sahara are you doing here??" He took a deep breath. No more lies. Whether or not she lived to see the end of the night was dependent on her own honesty, so he might as well be just as honest. "Roland, actually. Indeed, I am not Jordan Hornbuckle. Nor is there a bratty mutant daughter waiting around. I wanted to have a look around at the Mansion and I am accustomed to false pretenses. In fact, generally speaking, those who find that I am a mutant or hear my name generally never hear anything again. " He made his tone clear when spelling that last part out.
He doubted this would scare her nor would it smooth much over. Next attempt." I have dealt with many beautiful women over the years, but there's something about you. I can't put my finger on it. I really do feel something for you. Otherwise, I would have shot you already. "He put a little smile one and shrugged. " I hope you aren't too cross about it. However, what brings the greeter of the school for mutants here to this illustrious abode? I suppose we both have some secrets." Roland handed her shades back to her as a peace offering.
The look on Nehanda's face was rousing, the strong look of defiance in the face of death. Roland was tired of playing games though and it appeared that she was going to have to be put down after all. He just intended to endure it was in a non-lethal fashion."Stop trying to threaten with that thing," she growled quietly. "Either use it or lose it." Roland smirked beneath the mask. He had already unmasked his mutation, something that no living person had survived. Since the cat was out of the bag, it might as well show its claws.
Roland dropped the gun. As it fell and Neena's eyes followed it, perhaps believing she could get it or kick it away, he springboarded off the sink and over her. Handcuffs appeared in his hand as he rolled into the shower on his back. He craned his neck back and clicked one link in his hand, then putting it around her wrist. The gun never hit the ground, returning to his suit. She spun around quickly and delivered a strong kick to his torso, possibly cracking a rib, even with the suit's protection. He spun with the force of the kick and caught her unlinked arm and pushed it toward the linked one, attaching it via mutation and then placing his foot on her lower back, pushing off and pushing her face first to the floor.
Hopefully, she would stop wriggling for a moment. Before she could start kicking or whatever she would do next, he pushed his foot firmly against her spine. He shook his head and reached back, quickly releasing the mask portion of the suit. A hiss of condensed air released as he pulled it free, reaching down and grabbing the chain which was firmly connecting her wrists behind her back. He pulled her up, wincing from the definitely cracked rib and stood her in front of the mirror. He was standing behind her now, his face also reflected. Hair slicked to his scalp from sweat, he looked into the mirror at her own look of confusion." You cracked my rib, think we can talk now?" He stepped back a few paces and was holding the cuffs in his hand, freeing her.
Roland could see Nehanda was still in combat mode. He couldn't blame her really. The gun pointed at her surely didn't help. He knew since the suit was soundproof, he wouldn't be able to say anything to her until it came off. The gun would keep most people in check, but this woman was a fighter and a good one at that, judging from her assessing eyes. Simple shades weren't enough to disguise her own frustration in the situation, albeit for very different reasons. He had no more time to think as she burst into action once more. Action. Reaction.
The towel was cotton apparently as it did not respond to his mutation. Pity. The gun would though. Roland took the shoulder hit and went hard into the wall of the shower. The gun was placed on the sink opposite them. He dropped to his haunches and pushed with his two feet into her legs, hoping to knock her off balance. There was enough room between her legs that he flipped onto his stomach and pushed out with his arms, sliding through them and kipping up and backward to the sink. He crouched there on the sink, the gun again in his hands. Both of them this time.
The gun's hammer clicked in readiness. Perhaps the sound of imminent death would halt her assault more than a simple hand gesture. He simply shook his head slowly as she turned. Don't make me shoot you, Nehanda. If she was a telepath, she would have heard it loud and clear. She wasn't however, or she would already know the frantic look was coming from the eyes of the man who cared for her. He couldn't very well reveal his identity until she calmed down. He was going to?
As Roland was surveying the final hallway, he heard a distinct tapping sound coming from the other player's room. His eyes narrowed enough that if the red line could also squint in frustration, it would have. The dimes came tapping out, each one never hitting the floor and instead vanishing into his person. The door opened and a figure stepped out. The look on his face was classic, were it not concealed by his mask. Nehanda Jenkins was standing in the hall. His posture tensed. What to do now?
"Halloween was last week, m'friend. Unless you're practicing for next year's Haunted House, you've got some serious explaining to do." More explaining than her mind could imagine, Roland thought to himself. His thoughts turned to the whirring of the camera as it began its arc towards her. He stepped back a second before she got to him, giving her ample room to enter and avoid detection. Her momentum caused her to go quickly towards the window and its wired frame. For both of their sakes, he grabbed her wrist firmly, spun behind her and kicked the door shut.
Feeling her body's reflexes turning to attack, he let go of her and then jumped backward into the shower. The silenced pistol appeared in his hand as she turned toward him. His free hand was out in front of him as quickly, his palm facing outward in the universal sign for Stop. His mind reeled in this scenario. In any other case, there would have been no warning. When he slipped behind her, it would have been to catch her body from triggering an alarm and then spraying the window with her gray matter via this same gun. He felt something for her , though. This certainly put a serious kink in his otherwise smooth plans.
Roland waited a moment in his stance. He turned his head to see between the clock and the wall. He could only see the camera when it was at the end of its arc, just catching the lens as it began to move back across its sweep of the hall. He kept his eyes focused on the spot, his arms beginning to push back. 1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..Lens. He let it swivel once more to ensure his count was correct. 1..2.. Roland walked on his hands and came from behind the clock, dropping down in a squat.3..4..Dimes teleported in 4 stacks of 5 evenly spaced between the closed door of contestant two and the frame, Roland pushed back up into his stance and handwalked back behind the clock. He grinned inside the suit, knowing his new friend would have fun getting out of the room now.
He waited for another arc and steeled himself for movement. Once the time was right, he cartwheeled from behind the clock and made two rolls in a figure eight, coming up flat against the wall facing down the hall from which his quarry came. The head with its thin red line cocked for a moment and then looked behind him to the door from whence it came. He opened the door and stepped back into the room. A bathroom. A circle of glass missing from it, just large enough for a nimble and limber person to squeeze. Now he had an alternate escape route.
The door opened again and he looked down the next hall. Besides the doors full of fun flanking each side of it, he was concerned only with the trapdoor on the ceiling at its end. It looked like the typical attic entrance, with its fold out stairs that would normally be sitting on top of it. But there was no ring to pull it down. No doubt it was run by remote. The time was approaching to decide whether or not to escape and return or to push on and risk capture. The only way this was going to get done was with finesse and force. The finesse would keep him safe and uninjured, the force would ruin the quality of the job. However, the item, which was more than likely above him even now, was worth it.
