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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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.
>>> ”I honestly get where you’re coming from, Panu.”
More doubts.
>>> ”Our powers are kind of similar. Aside from all the barriers and stuff, my power lets me read all the measurements of the things around me, and do the math easily, as fast as a calculator."
...Less doubts.
>>> "And that guidance counselor definitely turns my brain to mush when she’s near, rendering that side of my power useless.”
...Many less doubts.
>>> “You probably took the test, and without your powers, you couldn’t breeze through the math, right? So you did your best, and tested low, because the stupid guidance counselor got in your way and if she weren’t there, everything would have been cake?”
Many many more doubts.
This was trap. It had to be. The Finn toyed with the phone that always hung around his neck, which maybe looked like nervous fidgeting, but was actually Tactical Repositioning of Camera. He looked at Mr. Tetsuya through his real eye while his stupid blind organic eyes looked somewhere down at the desk and he tried to see where in the man's expression the trap was. The teacher looked completely composed, with maybe just a little bit of eye-twinkle that probably was lens glare, but the Finn did not trust him at all.
Even if the man's power did sound maybe-similar. It was not as good as Panu's, of course, but if he could do what he said, then he knew how stupid this class for mutants like them. It was like taking goldfish and throwing them on the floor while lecturing them on how to swim.
And how Mr. Tetsuya described the Stupid Adapted's power was exactly like how it felt for Panu, except somebody had put nails in the brain-mush, and they stabbed at Panu's skull from the inside anytime he tried to do something and realized that it was part of his power and not just a normal thing.
But no teacher ever called another "stupid" where students could hear. Not unless they were 120% Setting A Trap. Because if Panu did not agree, then he was lying. And if Panu agreed, then he was calling another teacher stupid. There was no binary solution to this, and he had to answer soon because he was taking way too long to say anything which probably was making him look stupid (or paranoid) (but mostly stupid).
"Is this part where you tell me virtues of learning to do math without mutation, and we pretend that if ever my powers are not working than biggest problem I face is basic addition? Or is this part where you tell me how I can test out of class?"
The eleven year old's hands were very tight around his phone as he watched the teacher's face.
>>> "...and standardized tests don’t always tell you useful information.”
For a moment, just a moment, Panu thought that next the teacher would say I see that you're in the wrong class, let's fix this.
This moment lasted 0.581 seconds, the time it took the math teacher to open his mouth again.
>>> ”Can you tell me a little bit about yourself? Your powers?”
From here out, Panu would have a new rule: he was not allowed to be hopeful until a minimum of 1 complete second after people started talking. It was stupid to not give them time to disappoint him.
He took in a breath and let it out and didn't even try to look like he was meeting the teacher's eyes, because it would just be fake anyway, and he was getting tired of being fake for people.
"My power is technology. Basic component of technology is math. I do not need your class, this is just school counselor trying to keep me out-of-trouble-and-busy. I will sit and I will be quiet and I will not cause trouble, but if I am in baby classes than do not be surprised when I finger paint on tests."
For the whole next class Panu did-not-fidget. Even though their tests had not been handed back yet. Probably the teacher just hadn't graded them yet, maybe he hadn't even looked at them yet, teachers could be very lazy. He just sat quietly in his desk, and stared through the school's lawn cameras while Mr. Tetsuya taught (much more sophisticated than low-tech staring out the windows), and finished his homework within two minutes of it being assigned because that was the physical limit of how quickly he could read the problems and write answers. Computing time was minimal. Floor(timeToActuallySolve) = 0. Once, a girl sitting next to him asked for help solving her own problems, but he had no idea how to explain and when he tried she had heard 'logic gates' and then gotten that glazed look to her eyes like maybe she was blind too, and had nodded a lot, and then turned to ask someone else when his words had sputtered to a stop. So Panu had put his head down and watched cat videos instead, and no one else had tried to talk to him, which was exactly and perfectly fine. He did not want to associate with children, anyway.
>> “Panu, can you hold on a second?”
The Finn's shoulders jumped maybe a little. But then he sat up straight and put on his best look of do-not-care. (And ignored the girl he had-not-helped as she shot him some kind of look, but his phone was not turned right, and he could not see what kind of look it was.) (She left just as quick as everyone else so probably it was a stupid look, like the boy on his other side who'd chanted you're-in-trouble under his breath.) (Hopefully that boy could read Indian, because it would be hard to change his phone back to English if he couldn't.)
He waited in his desk until everyone had left. The teacher stayed at his desk too, and for a second Panu contemplated having a who-will-stay-in-their-desk-longer battle, but then his shoulders slumped and he stood first and walked to the front of the room because the quicker they started this the quicker he could go flop down face-first on his pillow and not socialize until dinner.
His phone hung from its holder around his neck, its camera giving him a view of the teacher's desk, his chest, and most of his face (except the hair, but hair didn’t usually emote).
"May I help you, Mr. Tetsuya?" he asked, which was smartest conversational opening. Much smarter than I see you are so impressed with my test that now you will give me extra credit, or maybe let me graduate from stupid high school math completely.
>> "… "I wouldn't mind at all you got my numbers. You're far more professional then some adults I might mention."
Panu puffed up—
>> "Even if you fall into the same trap as other mutants do."
--and promptly deflated. He fidgeted with his headphones. They were still around his neck, though he wasn't sure why. Normally he put them back on his ears right away and kept them there, where they were like a wonderful muffling safety blanket between himself and the stupid world. But he had forgotten they were down, while he was with the Russian.
The hair ruffling was so quick and unexpected and why why why that he could not duck quick enough.
Sometimes he wished he could see like everyone else. It was very hard to glare properly when he was probably glaring a foot to Erik's right.
"Next time I will pay you extra if not touch hair."
The Russian dropped him off down the block from Xavier's. Panu slid off the slightly-scrapped-up motorcycle.
>> "You were a very good non-whiny kid."
"Good luck with dealings," the Finn returned. "Grey is good color for you. Goes well with red."
Panu went back in the mansion.
And hid in his room.
And 100% didn't know anything about the recently mutant-renovated home a few blocks away.
if (CaliforniaMathCurriculum != NewYorkMathCurriculum) { give(stupidPlacementTest, Panu); }
if (stupidAdaptedProximity <= 10) { failTestHard(Panu); }
Who gave placement tests? Counselors. Who was a waste of oxygen Adapted? The Mansion's counselor. Panu's head had felt like an Unexpected Error the entire test. Also he had maybe given whole number answers to all division problems, but that was because they hadn't specified if numbers were int or float, how was he supposed to know?
In conclusion, it was everyone's fault but Panu's that he was currently sitting in Basic Math for Babies, along with the other children--shudder--his age. He had been in the class for two weeks (minus 19 minutes each day, which was how late he always was).
Today was his first test.
Subtracting decimals.
Panu would maybe have hit his head against the desk, but his brain was his best asset (when Adapteds were not giving him lobotomies), and a concussion was not worth it. Instead, he did this:
12) What is 0.6-0.43?
0.6-0.43 = ∫x dx + y, where upper bound = lower bound = y = answerOfStupidProblem = 0.17.
Erik had many good points, and saying them while Very Large and Very Red and Very Angry made him Very Convincing. Not-Said threats of violence were very good like that, in Panu's experience. The Finn stayed at Erik's side, and all was well with the world, because his side was the one that could crush everyone else in the room if something went wrong.
"…How much money are we talking, here?" the healer asked, after a shared look with Nightmare.
Numbers were tossed out. Very low ball numbers, mostly insults in Panu's eyes, but the two seemed very happy with them. As Erik said: amateurs. Twitch was unusually quiet, like a puppy who had lost his favorite toy. When Erik and Panu left, all three stayed behind, but Panu did not think Twitch would be staying long. Probably only until the food was gone.
Hopefully Erik did not mind having all his food be gone.
Outside, the eleven-year-old asked what any reasonable (villain) child would: "Where do you get money to pay them from? Are you secret member of criminal faction?"
>> "You still want to try hit a few places to shop before your time is up?"
On one hand: electronic stores. On the other: curling up under a blanket and never moving again (at least until dinner) (but only if the Mansion was cooking something good, so help him if they had mac and cheese again, he would order takeout for everyone with Gawain's credit card and deny 130% that it was him).
"Maybe just ATM, then back to school? I need to withdraw money for paying you."
When they got to an ATM, Panu would quickly and very-no-frills demonstrate his own method of paying employees: after making sure Erik's body blocked people on the street from seeing what he was doing, the Finn simply held out a hand, and collected a generous stack of hundreds that the machine was very happy to print for him one after another after another until the pile was too big to fit neatly in his hand. Using debit cards, or—shudder—pressing physical buttons, was for non-technopath plebeians. So was having bank accounts. So was worrying that cameras would see anything but an empty street, or machine records note anything but regular transactions.
"Thank you for very good job," the Finn said, handing over the stack like it was small money. "Included is hazard pay bonus. My apologies, job posting maybe understated danger level. …Would you be willing to work again with me, sometime? You were very good Responsible Adult."
And now that it was time to leave, Panu maybe did not want to. Erik was Big and Red and Very Safe.
The yellow-haired man was already at the fridge, pizza box in hand.
>> "--till after you all tell me why you would take on—"
The healer stole the box. When he wasn't slumped over, he was tall enough to play an effective game of leftovers keep-away with the shorter electricity user.
>> "--such a tough job with three people and who gave it to you."
"Fine, whatever," Twitch grumped. Not to Erik, but to his own teammate. As the healer brought the pizza box over to the couch, and offered the violet-eyed girl the first slice (something she managed to sit up for), Twitch pulled out an egg. He held it between his hands. Electricity arced around his fingers, and with a distinct pop, he revealed a crack-shelled and steaming flash-boiled egg. Which he proceeded to start tossing between his hands like a one-man game of hot potato. "Oww, oww, hot—"
Panu pointed his phone between their almost-kidnappers, then at Erik. The little Finn stuck close to his new broth—his bodyguard. Not because he was afraid of the three people in front of them, but because he did not want to associate himself with idiots.
The healer took a seat on the floor next to the couch, where he and Nightmare could share the pizza box. Nightmare hadn't moved enough for him to sit on the couch, and he hadn't asked.
"Grabbing a kid with no offensive mutation isn't supposed to be hard," Nightmare growled, her mouth full of pizza. "Especially not when the kid wants to be grabbed."
"What." This was the only appropriate response Panu could think of. If this had been the internet, he would have spelled it wut.
It was maybe probably true that he wasn't opposed to getting taken away from the Mansion. But it was also true that he only wanted to be kidnapped by the Most Competent Baddies Ever, which this group was definitely not. This kidnapping was an insult and he wanted a refund.
"We were hired by the Orphans," the Healer said, actually bothering to chew and swallow before talking. "Most of us are from across the rift. Got caught on the wrong side when it closed. No ID, no money, and—"
"The X-Men are a bunch of sell outs," Twitch said, tossing his egg between his hands with each point. He seemed too, well, twitchy to sit down. "Working with the police? Please. They're up the street playing house, ignoring that fact that SUPER hopped over with us, that they're bagging and tagging mutants on this side, that we've got a chance to stop it now before SUPER gets rooted in--"
"I'm just getting paid," Nightmare said, sounding a lot more like mm jus' 'etting faid as she shoved pizza crust into her mouth.
"Same," Stitch shrugged, then reached for another slice.
"Guys," Twitch said. "You can get paid and still believe in the cause. You can also share the pizza."
Neither of those things looked likely. Twitch started peeling his egg, blowing on it a little grumpily.
Panu turned his head to Erik, but he kept his phone pointed at their would-be kidnappers. He spoke in Russian, hoping none of the three could understand. "What do we do with them?"
>> "That's not... what even..." he gaped "That isn't even..."
Part of Panu wished he had three more camera angles to catch the look on the X-Man's face, probably it would make for good replays later tonight when he was laying in bed and grumpy.
Another part of him thought that, maybe, Gawain was not faking his reaction. That maybe Panu had misunderstood.
That part of him made the rest of him feel a little guilty, which was a stupid never-helps-anything emotion and he tucked his shoulders in against it as the man talked some more. Angua, who was his favorite person in the room, and probably in the whole Mansion, dropped her head on his knees. He gave her ears the Best Scratching Ever.
>> "What I'm saying is... as a kid, you should have the option to not pawn your powers out to anyone. You shouldn't have to find the biggest shark, to feel safe. That's all. Options."
He had 100% misunderstood Gawain's earlier words. But he couldn't say that, it would make him seem stupid, like maybe he hadn't gotten nearly as good with English as he thought he had. (Or maybe he had been trying not to understand.) Apologizing would be even worse, real villains never apologized, except if they were being Sarcastic or Classy and he didn't feel like being either right now. He just wanted to pet a dog and then wake up back in California and find this was all-a-dream. Even better would be waking up back in Finland, but it had been years since he had lived there, and it was getting harder to picture himself really being there.
Angua retreated from his ear-scratching with a big doggy smile, and moved back to Gawain. Panu tucked his hands back in his lap.
"Why did you pick Mansion as your option?" he asked. "Mirror-walking is decent power, unique and useful, but not strong enough others care that you have it. Very independent. You could go anywhere. Why here? Please not sales pitch answer about justice and friendship, probably I will throw up on carpet."
>> "Twitch and healer take the bike. I will take super kid and Nightmare with me."
"I'm driving!" the electric guy shouted.
"No you're not," the healer said, but his co-worker was already out the front door and propping the bike back up. The tired man ran a hand down his face, and trudged towards the door. "...Yes he is."
>> "Are you angry at me specifically or angry you lost? Unlike some others I could mention I am a professional despite my earlier teasing. I helped save your life, maggots are full of protein and your assuming there is anyone still alive I love."
The violet-eyed girl turned her head away. "Didn't need your life story. Just need a lift."
She barely even squeaked when Erik picked her up. Her blush might have been embarrassment, rage, or a grab bag of both.
"You know they're stealing your bike right now. Making a get away," she taunted.
"Are you sure they are that smart?" Panu asked, his words every bit as skeptical as his body language as he tried to find a comfortable way to sit piggy-back on a giant Russian. He was 450% past his daily quota for touching people and wanted very much to curl up alone somewhere, but first he needed to know what these stupid people had been doing, if only so he could take almost-kidnapping back to X-Man Mirror and rub it in the man's face. (Except that he had been the one leaving school without real permission, so maybe they should just… not talk about this. Ever.)
She crossed her arms, and made no reply.
Her companions weren't that smart. They were, in fact, waiting at the location Erik had given them. Random pieces of metal were sticking to the bike's frame, like it had gotten magnetized during the brief ride. Twitchy was experimentally shocking the warehouse's doorknob to see if it would open. The healer was sitting on the curb, his head between his knees, and his hands in his very wind-swept hair.
"...You didn't steal the bike," Nightmare gritted her teeth. "Why didn't you steal the bike?"
Panu mostly stopped listening to the Adapted when he realized that the man was telling him how to technopath. Also he was still talking way to fast. Also he clearly knew that Panu needed his translator, and was still talking that much, so it was his own fault if Panu missed things totally-on-accident.
Someone opened their own van's door with a crack, and boots hit pavement, and a few loud steps later—
OWW
--the world came back like it had been pressing in at the edges the whole time and now slammed back together all at once and his brain was caught in the middle and—
and—
ha.
hahahaha—
Panu's laughter was not so loud, but anyone still close to the van would probably have heard it.
There was definitely, 100%, no mistake another techcontroller in that building. One that was Amazing Egotist. One who thought his power made him Special Butterfly. One who did not think that ever it would be used against him.
There were cameras everywhere. All the better to see you with. Weapons, too. And METAs, and electric locks, and up in an office on the second floor was a very awesome gaming computer with--with—
hahahaha!
A very expensive, deluxe, high-performance mouse. Mr. Thomas Zakharovich needed a mouse. This was going to be hilarious fight, like a bully holding a toddler at bay with a hand to the forehead. For once, Panu was not the toddler. It felt very very good to be one with All The Power.
Panu's head was feeling much better now. He set to work. And maybe his messages were a little giddier than usual, and maybe he showed off a little, but what was the point of having Best Power Ever if he couldn't show how awesome it was?
>> "All charges set. Prepare to breach on my command. Delta 20-27, report."
"Thank you for waiting, this is Delta 20-27 reporting, I will be your IT support this mission. All cameras are set to one-minute loop because I was not given time enough to set up most excellent real-time erasure of images. Everyone who brought phones on mission even though probably you shouldn't have, you have real time map of building layout and target locations. Recommend in future that all operatives working with asset Delta 20-27 carry phones as standard. For now please identify yourselves to your team leaders and share."
(Some of these targets, the astute observer may have noticed, were not ones Jasper had gotten around to briefing him on. They may have further observed that the layout used in his map was an exact copy of the architectural plans from the briefing, and that the targets marked covered nearly the entire facility. There were two corners outside of his 100 yard range, but anyone expecting 'short range' might have quickly realized that Panu may have fudged the adjectives in his official report when describing his power to his last parole officer.)
(Panu himself did not notice these things, but probably he would later when he was not still trying hard to not laugh on the comms. After laughter would come regret. But not now.)
"To Mr. Adapted Commander of Team 1, be advised that there are wall-mounted weapons which I will lose control of when you are too close. They appear to be automated and two minutes thirty-four seconds is not enough time to reprogram. Recommend everyone who does not want holes in them to stand outside of Adapted field range. Range will be clearly marked by bullet holes, thank you for cooperate.
"Also, probably safe to assume everything electronic including this transmission is as easy to compromise by Mr. Zakharovich as by me, and you do not know my voice well enough to tell if he is running simulator, so try not to trust things too much now that he knows I am here and has samples of voice.
"To Mr. Zakharovich, if you can hear this: Good afternoon, this is asset codename Delta 20-27, which is super long impractical call sign, so you may please to call me Joutsen. Next I am target your METAs, so please put up token fight. Thank you."
Somehow, with the threat of Erik's punching gone, the yellow haired man was crowding him even closer. Like an electric gnat to a big red lamp.
"I maintain that this was not dumb, it simply hit unforeseen complications."
"We're getting carried out like laundry because we're too pathetic to stay angry at," the healer said. He stood slowly, keeping one hand on the ground until he was sure he had his balance. He looked significantly more tired than his bushy-tailed co-worker. " 'Dumb' seems an appropriate adjective."
"A bike crash and two people walking into a house wouldn't have been a problem. A bike crash, two people walking into a house, and then--BAM! Demolition Derby!--that's the problem. We totally could have pulled it off if Big Red here wasn't here. Also, I could totally take you, big guy. I'm just not going to, out of respect for my mobility challenged colleagues." He tucked his hands into his back pockets. This had the effect of moving his electric arcs down to his legs.
The violet-eyed girl starting swearing at him, just about as proficiently as Erik's swears, though in a mix of English and Spanish that Panu found very enlightening (just as he had found Erik's Russian. He had not known that word could be both verb, noun, and adjective.) This proved to be very good for coughing out the last of the blood in her lungs, which she did after rolling to her knees. She didn't seem likely to get up any further than that on her own, but she was glaring horrific nightmare purple at any of the menfolk who came close. It was hard to tell which of them she hated most, at present (the swaying-on-his-feet healer excluded).
Panu, meanwhile, handed Erik his phones back. On the screen of the burner phone was a text: Agreed, killing them is like drowning puppies. Do you have somewhere we can take to talk to them?
With the nightmare girl still coughing, the healer dead on his feet, and the electric guy… smiling literal sparkles, Panu would not dignify this situation with words like 'interrogation.'
"I can make cameras forget they see us," Panu said out loud, because if they had been after him than probably they already knew things like this. "Probably if we just cover faces and leave very quickly, witnesses will not be able to help much. ...Also you should stop sparking, it is very distinctive."
"Whaaaat?" yellow hair protested.
"Please," the nightmare girl said. She squinted skeptically up at Erik. "...I might need that carry. But if you touch anything, I swear to god, you're going to be seeing maggots in your food and rotted faces on everyone you love for the rest of your life."
And then, just was quick as he had started, the X-Man stopped making sense.
No--that was not fair. He listened, he opened and closed his mouth as Panu talked like fish gasping at air, and then he decided when everything was done that he would play the you are a kid, I am adult, let us live in magical world where this fixes everything card.
So Panu also listened while Gawain talked. Politeness returned. But he did not open-close-fish-gape with his mouth. He took in deep breaths and let them out so that he would not scream. Probably that would have hurt Angua's ears, and she was not playing the Adult Card. She was playing the Dog Card, which was much less pretentious.
"Thank you," the little Finn said, his hands tight on his knees so the skin under them hurt and maybe his knuckles turned white. "I had not realized I was kid, this is wonderful and enlightening fact. Now I can safely entrust my fate to adults-who-know-better, never has this gone wrong for me before. Such wonderful safety I feel in being totally powerless at whims of older wiser people. I feel much better and very relieved and ready for you to leave the room and let me unpack suitcase because I will definitely be staying, and not being transferred at short notice with no option, not to be confused with being kicked out. You have won conversation forever, because I am just-a-kid."
Of course he was a kid, that was the problem. His knees hurt a lot under his digging fingers but there was no point strangling Mirror, the man was stronger than him anyway, even if maybe not as smart. This was all he could do.
"Thank you for very good advice," the little Finn said, still pushing all his weight against the brake because he did not know how to do that.
Maybe she noticed, because soon she gave more helpful instructions:
>> "Slide the stick so it's next to the 'P' then get your ass back in your seat."
Stick? Park? Oh.
...Oh.
The Finn did this, and then very very slowly he took his foot off the brake, and the devil car hummed like it was contemplating rebellion but it did not move. He slid back to his own seat, being very very careful not to touch the stick again.
Sticks were an awful user interface, not at all intuitive, what part of a random stick in the middle of the car made people think 'park' or 'go'?
>> "You're supposed to wait for the police in these situations, but this is a different situation. You're on parole, and I'm not really supposed to leave you alone, so...Good job, kid."
Panu heard two things from this. Number one, that they would both get in trouble, so wink-wink nothing had happened, yes? Panu took this cue to double-check that footage from bank cameras was a little glitchy or maybe deleted when it was looking at them, and also to delete the text message he had sent from all phones (except Brook's).
Number two was good job.
It was the very first time they had worked together, and already she was telling him good job. Panu sat a little taller in his seat, and tried not to look like a puppy fawning over master but she had said good job.
(Wait, was 'good job' sarcastic? Sometimes he couldn't still couldn't tell. English was weird, everything could mean what the words said or the exact opposite and somehow he was supposed to just know.)
"It was not best job," Panu said, splitting the difference. "...Maybe next time is better?"
Next time, because clearly this would go into her notes about him, and her boss would read, and then he would be useful to someone again instead of being locked in a stupid school with children. He would do good job for SUPER.
The Adapted was ignoring him. Panu was almost 100% sure of this. Either that or maybe the man was having a very quiet epileptic fit which Panu couldn't see because Adapted.
AKA the man was taking so long to reply. Panu wanted to start a timer, but oww oww oww that was apparently something he had downloaded and not a normal part of the human brain, how did anyone ever deal with annoying people if they couldn't even passive-aggressively time how long the person was being stupid for? Maybe this was some kind of test of whether he was a Bratty Child and would push for answers even when he'd clearly been heard (but had he been heard? He didn't know because no one was saying anything and he couldn't see because Adapted.) In any case he would sit still and not pester the Black Hole because he was a professional.
He was focused so hard on sitting still, that maybe he jumped a little when the man did talk. And then he was extra still, because he was trying to understand, and suddenly he realized this was the first conversation he'd had in two years without a translator to fall back on and there were so many words he didn't know, English was the worst, he would have to replay this at least three times just to—
He couldn't replay. He wasn't even recording audio right now. His files of this whole ride were non-existent, just stupid no-one-even-knows-how-this-works memories floating around his organic brain, Because Adapted.
Panu did not have clearance (what was clearance? It seemed to mean that he couldn't be told everything, but that was stupid because how else could he--ahhhh the man was still talking!)
No traps, okay. He did not know "ambushes", but no surprises at all. The Finn nodded very firmly. He could do no surprises, as long as there were good cameras around.
"Subdue" he did not know, but control technology and capture opponents he did. Okay.
METAs, okay, Panu also understood that they were in building (why was that a thing that needed understanding? They were or they weren't, understanding didn't change—-ahhh still talking ahhh—)
Okay. The man was maybe done throwing words at him now. Panu was not sure he had gotten everything, but main point seemed to be "do useful things with your power." Which is what he would already have done. That was a lot of words to say "do the thing", the order equivalent of four comm-checks. Probably this man was the sort to have a spare roll of toilet paper sitting next to his dispenser even though there was a whole pack under the toilet already. Much show of being prepared without actually being more prepared.
>> "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"
>> "No sir."
...Panu knew he had just missed something, but he did not know what. It was something that made the Adapted's voice sound like silk over wolf fur, and made the man sitting next to Panu stiffen (Panu had tried to make himself as small in the seat as possible, but the men were big and they took up every centimeter of extra room he gave them, like water filling the bottom of a bowl, and he couldn't get the space back after he'd given it up). The silence in the van was like another layer of dark pulled over everyone, a tense layer that almost he could feel, and he did not want to poke at it but Mission Effectiveness was on the line.
"Sir? I am most useful if I am have time to see and make... ah, make things for prepare? Before team goes in. Time where you are not next to me like Dark Cloud of Nothing. Sorry, my English also will be better when you are not turn off my brain. Also if you have pictures of targets, even if I do not have… clearance? Even if no clearance to know who they are, I can see if they are near camera."
The van stopped. Panu pitched forward a little, because he was a fool and had let down his guard just because they had been going straight for so awhile. He could hear other vehicles behind them, and doors opening. Probably there were at target location.
"If you could please go away now, Sir," the technopath suggested, as politely as he could manage, which was maybe less polite than he could have managed five minutes ago but more polite than if he had to sit in Blackout Aura for another five.