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.
”No.” she second-guessed herself. ”We do not really need to set the building on fire. Besides, we are up high. How would we get our people down low? Bad idea.”
She had really just wanted to end this entire thing. These vampire-like people. But they were mutants, not magical. Not mystics. Could not possibly be mystical. It was highly unlikely they actually had all the strengths and weaknesses of real-life vampires.
Real-life vampires. Had she really thought that thought? It was a bad joke.
”We will keep that as a solid backup plan. Let us see what is in the next room.”
They went to the next location. Up the stairs. She looked to him, pressed a finger over her lips as if to say “be quiet.” Even though all of the building was likely aware they were coming. Then, she pressed forward, through the doorway, and immediately went into a diving roll.
It was an office, a plush one. Lot of browns and wood furniture. Drawers and a bookshelf against one wall, windows against the other. They looked out over the interior of the wardrobe. It was far too nice to simply be an office in an abandoned warehouse. Far too nice.
The stone face man was behind a desk. He had a bunch of woman off to one side, tied up by the bookshelves. Six or five. He had that creepy ass mask on his face. The stone mask. A hand was just moving away, as if he had just withdrawn it after having pressed the mask to his face. Then, he fell to the floor like a boneless corpse.
Lenna ran to the girls, dropping her gun to mentally holster it against her side. She started untying them, but looked over her shoulder at the Ranger as she did.
”Watch him. He will probably stand up shortly, like some sort of creep. Hello, Rachel.”
The girl said hello, she was groggy. It came out like a mumble, more than a greeting.
Sure enough, the chair behind the desk rattled. The Ranger should brace himself.
He smacked his cheek, then turned to her and asked what she was going here. He looked like he had more to say? And thought better of it. She eyed him, carefully. Like how he would eye a squirrel? No. No hunger in her eyes.
He kept talking after a second. Full of self worth and bravado. Braggadocio. He looked around for his scene partner.
Lenna put on airs, strutted around, and recited her lines in an absolutely flawless American accent. She had been working very hard on such a thing.
”I’m soooo hungry. What do we eat, what do we eat?!” She drawled. Then looked to him.
That was the cue for his line. He would speak, then the comical puppet pizzas would appear on the screen to scream about the pizza place/brand in question, and all would be well in the world.
Did pizza places even have commercials any more? This seemed dated, maybe ‘pizza, the Hutt’ might. Or ‘it is not delivery, it is D’evilry’, the one frozen pizza brand. But… what did she know. She could count the amount of television she watched during her free time on one closed hand.
”I have a hunger a hamburger just won’t stop. I need more pizza,” She purred ravenously.
”How long has this been going on? The hat I mean. It’s a look alright.”
Martin fled, like boohoohoo. In the m’anliest way possible, of course.
After Carrick’s comment, Lenna wished she had stolen Martin’s hat from him before he had left. If only to annoy the shifter.
The boy said something,
>>> “Who would have guessed there was hidden storage in the middle of the hedge maze.”
And Carrick said “Me, the amount of paranoid preppers in the mansion? Please. They are looking fer reasons to dig a hole and bury something. Locks sound new though. Found three of Frosty’s out in the woods. Man has a signature with his stuff.”
And suddenly, Lenna was up to bet first.
Lenna placed her bet. A modest amount. Starting small. Not too much. She wanted to see what came next, did not want to bet it all.
”It is strange. This was intentional, after the rebuild someone had to say ‘terrible idea, let us do it twice’. Yeah?”
She looked to the others in the game.
She had two pair presently, on her way to a full house if she got something good. 10s and queens.
He wore a trilby hat, and called it a fedora. He introduced her to the underground poker game as “m’lady,” and bet hard, and often. He was the first out of the game. She was not his lady. She had pulled the trigger, herself. It was nothing personal. He had simply been someone with information, disposable after said information was freely given.
Lenna had played a lot of poker in her childhood. Games had been with adults far more often than with people her own age. Sailors, thugs, members of militia or cartel. It did not matter what their ties were. She won some, she lost some. She played fair. Lenna took her losses. She won often enough, she could recoup those losses, afford them when they happened. And some people, you let them keep your money, if you know what is good for you. Some of her experiences were lost when she was de-aged, but a lot remained.
She was playing well enough, presently. Not dominating, a clear “middle of the pack”. Or had been, until she took out trilby hat. What had his name been, again? M’Carl? M’Earl? M’Conne— oh, it has been Martin. That was right.
M’Artin.
Lenna looked at the cards in her hand. She had something good going on, and if she could get one more card in particular, it could be very good. She did not give away what she had with any body language. She merely looked ahead, as if this were another Tuesday. Nothing special.
It was wild, though, where this entire underground Poker game was located. She would never have thought to look for it in this location. Who would have? Absolutely wild they had arranged an entire poker game, tables and chairs and all, in the middle of a maze of hedges on the mansion grounds.
Her aunt was a wealthy woman, and Lenna herself was heiress to the wealth of this world’s version of herself (now deceased). It would have been easy to turn that money into connections, and jumpstart some sort of acting career. The wealthy do such things all the time. With acting, with music, with sports… as long as they had at least some talent. This specific scenario was not because of any such endeavors.
Lenna did not actively seek attention. She did not request her aunt help her become a “star”. The girl did not have any goals to be rich and famous. She had merely… gone for coffee. And maybe a bagel. Or a donut. Someone in line had “discovered” her. Interrupted, and told her that they thought she had the perfect face for a role. They told her if the job went well, it could potentially turn into further jobs, future work, and was she represented yet? Because they could certainly do the work, if it had not yet been taken. That was how she met her current “agent”, Beverly Switzler. No relation to the singer from the band, Cherry Bomb, she had been assured. The woman told her Lenna was lucky she wasn not some creep picking up girls and telling them they would be stars. This was a wholly innocent event.
Okay.
It had been a pizza commercial. Nothing fancy. She had read lines. There were lines. They were about pizza. It was not the script for a movie or anything. Money was not an issue for her, but more is always better. So… she showed up.
They had her dressed better than she had ever been dressed in her life. Costuming had made certain that all her clothing matched, and made sense together. it was an outfit some might even seem “cute.” Light blue skirt, tall white knee socks, white shirt, with a light jacket. Little ball-shaped earrings. Nice shoes. Her hair had been seen to, her face made up like the ways she never did. She looked nice.
The place supplied both bagel and coffee. Lenna was just taking a bite when the person she assumed would work with her as costar walked in. She assumed this because he made his presence known for the whole room. And also, she knew him. Lenna chewed, and chewed that over, as he was chewed out.
Carrick. They had trained together, gone to Atlantis together, fought together at the battle for the mansion, but she knew him very little. She finished her bagel, then looked to him.
”Behind you. Squirrel.” She said, without inflection.
She remembered how he liked to chase squirrels, from training. Would the comment get a rise from him? What was professional behavior again?
And that was it. They were dead. Readjust your timeline, folks. Outmatched and overpowered, the Ranger and Lenna died then and there. Everything that happened after was merely fantasy. A nice story. Pure fiction of an obsessed mind.
…. Not!!
As Lenna dive out of the way of her attacker, the Ranger shouted their warning. Vampires, with their hands…
Wryly, Lenna muttered “is that a m^%##^ing Jojo reference. Because I have seen it.”
It was funny, because she had. Agree actually had. A mansion resident had made her watch at least the first few episodes, in an attempt to woo. A thinly disguised date. She had seen through it, but the show… she had allowed him to show it to her because it was too bizarre and interesting to walk away. Also, He was nice. So
Lenna almost told him to control his breathing to channel the power of the sun but that was too much and this was no cartoon. It was real. They were in real danger.
She mentally threw something at her foe, d as mike threw his own attack. The chair tumbled and clattered against the woman she faced. Mikes woman was onto her back, stunned for the moment. Her foe was tangled, arm through the open back of the steel chair.
She had tried to punch the item, missed, gotten stuck. It slowed her. She strained, then paused… and extracted herself from it gently. The smart retort. Until it spun on its axis, to break her jaw. Lenna smiled.
Telekinesis.
“Run!” Lenna said
Her mind swung its power to redirect an aimed punch from mikes target away from him, into the floor. Where it snagged.
They could fight. Maybe these people did not heal. But discretion is the bestest part of valor.
Lenna started running down the hall the two had come from. There was a door. She opened it, and hoped Mike was on her heels. Beyond, and room. Large crates to block the door, if someone was setting enough to move them. Not her. Behind them, another hall, another door. Stairway to the boss. Lenna drew her sidearm and made sure it was loaded.
How much time had passed. It had to be nearing dawn. It had been late when she had met him in the alley. Travel time had passed, entry. Fights. With the time of year, sunrise… was still distant. Stupidthought.
The roar from where they had been cooked her. Briefly followed by very human cursing. Aimed at them . Their mothers. Dogs. Anatomy. Filth.
One more had been hidden, just as gag had stated. The table had legs, used them to tmp tmp away. But Mike went fwng whup whup thunk, and dispatched trash with a comical POW.
>> ”Maybe no one heard that.”
”And maybe my shirt is hot pink. It isn’t. Right. I was told it was black…” She had joked, but suddenly grew self conscious. When all things appear orange, you make bad fashion choices sometimes. That was when the ninja struck.
Ninja. Plural. The plural of ninja is…
There were four of them, all illusory. But at the time, neither of them knew this fact.
Two threw stars, at Lenna, at Mike. The other two were off to the side of the room, making rapid hands gestures. Peace sign, devil horns, thumbs up, down, the shocker. Index finger off right hand in and out of hole made with left. Weird stuff like that. Casting spells. A more worldly person may have said. Powering up for a Fireball or some crap. Lenna thought it was stupid.
” What the fu—“
She threw her mind into catching the stars, and throwing them at one of the ninja throwing gang signs. Or tried to. The stars went cleanly through them, ninja undisturbed. IF she had been using her power. She did this for HER ninja. Mike would have to dodge the stars, and handle his ninja. And his other ninja. But the ninja who had been pierced by stars, who she had expected to be pierced, had not been. The stars had not moved at all except to fly at her body— and do absolutely nothing.
Lenna turned her attention away from the ninja.
Her telekinesis had not affected the illusion. Not stopped the ninja throwing hands. Which meant—
‘Distraction,’ Lenna cursed. ‘Ceiling.’
There they were, the real threat. Two Women dressed in black, crawling across the ceiling like it was a floor. They bared their fangs at them, hissed. And flung themselves at her and Mike. Their strength was tremendous.
Tmp tmp tmp. The sound of feet on floor. On metal catwalk. Up stairs.
They encountered no threats on the way. It was good. They were apparently in a hurry. She hates mystics. Even their discarded toys caused trouble.
They reached the room before the landing and the final staircase. That was when they met resistance. Two men played cards at a table. “any 8s?”
“Go-“
Second man dropped his cards as he pushed away from the table, hand dropping to his side where his holster hung.
Lenna focused.
Twp twp twp. Playing cards flew at his face. Harmless, but he flinched and took a step back to put his hands in the way. Lenna took the distraction as an opening to mentally pull the steel chair he was near towards him, to sweep the leg.
She had her gun drawn, but she did not need it. Here was Lenna with the steel chair. A second chair flew at the downed man’s head. It hit his hands. It hit his hands. It hit his hands. It hit his hands. It hit his head. He fell unconscious.
Meanwhile, Mike was left to his own devices in fighting man one.
These two men had been mutants. Second man’s power had never revealed itself. It had been a sort of danger sense, that showed him things coming his way before they did. Fing great in a knife fight or fists or guns. Forewarned is forearmed. See the arm moving for the weapon, be prepared. Move first. It was why Lenna and Mike had not gotten the jump on them. But he had seen no arm going for the cards or the chairs… speaking of forearmed. Well. Four… the Ranger’s man…
——
After that was done, Lenna could not help it. All the stress had gotten to her and the fight had been so easy. Gag man had built it up, and…
He was not the correct person to answer her question. He thought that, but Lenna absolutely did not agree. With what she knew of his past (and he had told her quite a bit this day), he seemed someone who had experience with these sorts of questions. But she let him think what he thought. And listened to what he said.
‘Hands need lots of washing. With lives like ours.’ That was basically his message.
He still saw people he had killed, hurt. And he thought she was better than him because she was asking.
She had used tranquilizer darts on flying people. They had surely fallen. Some had surely not gotten up. Some had surely been hit by falling debris or explosions from within their own ranks. She was thinking of this. But all the other stuff existed in her periphery.
>> ”I found when you stop asking that question you stop caring. Better than me.”
Lenna furrowed her brow. ”Okaaaay.”
This sounded like he was still dealing with his own demons, and wished her to focus on dealing with her own. And that it was a constant process. And all this other stuff. Or at least, she made a lot of leaps of logic and assumptions to get to those thoughts.
”The people that fell. The mystics. They were trying to kill children and summon a dark God. Their own people killed them. And bad luck and bad choices helped. I will not dwell on them. I will not call my hands clean. But they really never were, even if I cannot recall all the things all the “me” have done. That was simplistic thinking. Wishful thinking. I will continue to be careful, as I have. And I will keep doing good things to make up for any bad things in the past. Yes. I think that is the best both of us can do. That, and eat.”
Lenna ate more of her corned beef hash and eggs. These were complex matters. They would not be solved over breakfast.
For a moment, Lenna has the confusion. None? No need? The rain became apparent as he woke the man. No secret powers, no mind reading mike had hidden. Just technique and time.
He aimed and threatened education.
The man met his eyes for a moment, then glanced away as the shame took him.
“Mask room,” he said hurriedly. “Top floor office, go round out of theses rooms to the catwalk and up a corner flight of stairs that turns up. 3 mutants guard it. One is hidden. And hurry. He’s using it.”
”Using what?” Lenna asked.
He kept staring at the same spot on the wall.
“I didn’t know,” he muttered. “Swear I didn’t. Some mystic artifact, changes them. Kidnapping is old hat, now he’s building something. An army. Under his control. Magic Fucking stone Mask. He thought it was funny, see? When he first got it. Stone faces stone face. Had his right hand man wear it as a joke. Then blood got on— shot why am I talking, you should be going. Now!!”
She made eye contact with Mike. Lenna’s Jaw was tight. Then, she stuffed the gag back into his face.
>> ”So you’re still trying to piece everything together...”
Lenna shrugged her shoulders. ”It is complicated.”
She forked herself some corned beef hash, and mixed it with eggs. Had herself a good few bites. Slurped coffee.
>> ”Thank you. For telling me all of this. It sets my mind at ease a bit. I don’t like being surprised with information like this later down the road and from now on you don’t have to deal with the repercussions alone. You’re an X now. You have the team to help you if you need it. Myself included. I can help you finish putting the missing pieces together if you want.”
When he looked back, A piece of bacon was missing from CS’s plate. He had probably witnessed her theft, and she had her own. Lenna also had his missing piece, too. She quickly and crunchily disposed of the evidence.
>”So I take it you know all about SUPER and those working for them? Take it you met Sabine then... Nice lady.”
She frowned.
”It is also very complicated. You see, I ran into them after I first woke up. I went to an address previous me occupied, they attacked. I fled, then fought them and beat them with the help of another. They stole the apartment, I stole their wallet and phone. I lived off Kyles company card for a while, until Skye took me in at the mansion.” Lenna said. She waggled a piece of bacon at him pointedly. ”They contacted me, after the mansion blew up. They saw me, and hunted me down. They hate me. Spent so much of their money, before they cut me off. And I injured their agents. They have information. I Learned some things from items I got when I returned to my apartment later. My boyfriend back then had a power. Read memories on things. Ex-boyfriend, now… SUPER has more information… I want it…”
She glanced away. Frowned at Sam again. She paused a moment, to drink coffee. ”It is a complicated ongoing process. I will talk to you about it later. When I know more… something more pressing bothers me though… Sam, are my hands still clean?”
She did not show him her hands. It was clear she was not speaking of dirt.
It was perfectly timed. He took down the first man at the same moment that Lenna choked out the second one. In a perfect world, Lenna would simply have been the appropriate height required to reach up and choke somebody. It would not have been necessary for Lenna to extend her mind outwards, and add one more point of focus to the telekinetic activity she was currently exuding. Two points, two separate areas where her mind bubbled things in orange: The bat, and the man’s neck.
She reached out with her mind, and mentally applied crushing pressure in a force choke maneuver. She wished she had not been holding the gun in two hands, at her side. Had she had one hand free, it could have raised in a perfect mimic of Darth Vader as he did the classic move he was known for, the force choke. But it was not so, for she held her gun at one side, pointed low and away. It was merely her mind which reached out and momentarily reduced the flow of blood to the criminal’s brain such that he made the usual muffled choking, gagging sounds, then went limp within her mind’s grasp. She did not kill him, she applied the Exact right amount of pressure for the Exact right amount of time. This maintained her prodigious kill count of zero. The end result was that two people fell unconscious.
Lenna removed the point of focus, then replaced it by holstering her handgun at her side. She reached into a pocket of her hoodie, and extracted a bundle of plastic zip ties.
Zip ties are wonderful. They are lightweight, comparatively, to the large amount of rope one would be required to achieve similar results. You bound specific points, and they just worked. Barring super strength, they held most people in a position of weakness. They would be unable to rejoin efforts to kill intruders, should they recover from their state of unconsciousness. Lenna briefly added a third point of telekinetic control to the first two, which split her weight limits three ways. This was fine. She levitated the split bundle of ties his way, and removed focus once he had taken them into his control.
Lenna briefly waxed upon how useful her training at the mansion had been for fine control of her powers. Starting out, she had been wholly horrible in regards to focus. Splitting focus points would have been difficult. A level of control like that would have been beyond her, and levitating? Indeed, not. But several years of classes at the mansion, one-on-one training with mansion psychics such as Shard and… others… yes? She was doing fine for herself.
Lenna zip tied the goon, then tore his t-shirt into some rag-like strips, which she stuffed into his mouth. Then, she realized she had wanted to keep one of the two people conscious, for interrogation. She had completely failed, in the moment, to uphold her end of that bargain.
Inwardly, she cursed. It was not Mike Hunt’s fault. It was her own. She had wanted too much to look cool, and thus had focused on the timely dual takedown maneuver. Rather than… something useful, such as keeping one person conscious.
Oh well. He would likely have been impressed.
Why did she wish to impress him?
An excuse. Her otherworldly self had held weight for his approval. She wished to meet his standards, as set by herself… her other self. Rather than to miss them entirely, and be a disappointment. There was no romanticism in this excuse. None existed. More and more, she felt she did not need romance in her life. Nor was she attracted to most people. Thank you, Ty. For wholly poisoning that well, with the bad feels.
Both men were unconscious, zip tied, gagged. They could move on. Lenna gestured for him to once more take the lead, but whispered to him:
”We take one conscious next time. Need to find where prisoners are kept.” That had been said, and now it was his turn to lead the forward movement.
Lenna drank coffee. It was piping hot, and black, unpopulated by sugar or cream. Perfect.
She listened. Sam talked. He talked a lot. As she listened, Lenna thought about her life. About life choices, like being seated across from a kidnapper, mind control or no. One who helped her kidnap a friend back from rival kidnappers. Okay.
Complicated was an understatement.
TATMAH was a mouthful. And not a tasty one.
The only good mutant was one who could be controlled… interesting philosophy. Lenna wondered if organizations such as SUPER would have agreed with it.
His life story had a sad beginning. She felt a bit of kinship, a connection, with the tragic early start “trope.” Except he grew up in a cell, and she grew up in an extended family of children and young women, taught to kill.
The lie they told him felt similar to her own childhood lies… except she never had any illusions about her being trained to help people. No, she had been trained to help exactly one person, and that help extended in The direction of power. Money.
He took out half the organization when he left them, and she had… not. She honestly knew little about this world’s version of that place she grew up. Lenna knew her reality, her home, was now separate from this realm, and she could never go back. So they were good as dead. She simply had not done anything to cause such a thing.
Sam finished, and Lenna was halfway through her cup of coffee. She set it down gently, but it still made an audible clack against the table. She exhaled slowly.
”Yah,” She said. ”Mine is kind of like that. One moment while I think how to shorten the story…”
She thought. As she thought, the door opened with the sound of bells. A glance was cast that way, similar to the one Sam had spent. Middle-aged man and woman, thinning hair on one, brown, with beard. Curly blonde hair, in shoulder-length ringlets on the woman. Doris seated them with polite nothings. Neither had a familiar face to Lenna. The place was started to feel more crowded. Would Sam grow uncomfortable with this?
”A lot of this, I have pieces together after the fact. Learned out of order. I met this world’s Lenna’s aunt, and she taught me about this world’s Lenna’s parents. I can only imagine my story was similar. But I was young, so I cannot remember most of that childhood. Basically… when I was young. Probably 5, like you, my parents went on a boat ride somewhere they should not. And they were killed for it: I was taken in by people loyal to their killer. And I do not think the killing was personal. Just bad location and time. My story is like yours.”
She traced her finger across the tabletop, head bowed as she spoke. Her brow was furrowed in thought.
”I was basically raised by my “big sis”, Eliana. And teachers. In Colombia. Taught things like you were taught, to be part of an all-girl army for a man named Cortez. He was a crime lord. Cartel stuff, and worse. I was taught to fight, and kill… but never did a kill mission. I—“
She made a face. So complicated.
Also, their food chose that moment to arrive.
She waited until it was down, and the woman had left. Then, she continued.
”From my perspective, I never did a mission like that. Because I was turned young again, at the moment my mutation activated, mentally. For me. Lot like time travel. But my other self had done everything for years, and worked for SUPER, and I have had to deal with the reperc— repercuh— the shit— from that. I learned about her from various sources, and will have to share with you. About her: about the version of me from this reality, the one who came before, and died. But I came here from another world, and do not remember the trip. So, yah. Yay.”
>> . ”We don’t talk about this place got it? I like the fact that it is hard to find.”
>> ”I like the fact that no one really knows me here and I won’t bump into anyone else I know.”
Lenna made a zipping motion over lips, a locking motion, and then pretended to eat the key. Which made zero sense. Why eat the key last…? Hooow? ”My lips are sealed,” she stated, through unsealed lips. Ones she had just mimed sealing. Literally the worst. what was she even trying to say.
She nodded. Yes. That was it, exactly. Her point had been clearly made.
He did not wish to be compromised. The way he checked locations and angles, it was telling.
She sat where directed. Then, took off her heavy yellow rain slicker and balled it up on the seat next to her. Function over form. Beneath it, she had worn dark blue jeans and a classic Star Wars tee. The one with Leia at Luke’s feet, with him holding his weapon aloft. Heavy yellow galoshes clompleted her Look. Completed. But yes, they did clomp.
>> ”I know it’s a trek here but the coffee is always fresh and the food is always good.”
Lenna nodded. A thumb went up. ”I cannot wait.” She smiled.
The waitress approached and was like ‘the usual,’ so Lenna held up 2. She would take one of his Usuals as well. What would this be, bacon and eggs and bacon, with black coffee and heavily buttered toast and hash downs? Perhaps pancakes the size of an American child? Whatever his Usual was, she was ready to be happily surprised. Unless it were baked beans and toast. Then, his obscure diner would hide his corpse nicely. Nobody would ever know where to look.
Her feet shifted in the tiny puddle she had brought.
”Long past time?” she asked. ”You can start.”
Had he shared his past with her? She could not recall. This likely meant it was long last time he shared.
He was up, and he was in. An action figure toy contract was forthcoming.
Lenna scooped up the bat and the gun, then focused on her own body. She mimicked the path Mike had taken, but with a bit more care. She did not need to worry about broken glass grazing her, because she could see it and hover above it all… rather than deal with it whilst being levitated by someone who could not. She was also smaller in frame than the man. Fit easier.
Her feet touched down on the ground, and her focus turned to once again sheathing the bat and the gun. They returned to their places on her back and her hip. She scanned the area.
Empty office room, doors on either side. She signaled for him to wait, while she checked the first door. Her door had no sounds behind it when she pressed an ear up to listen. Lenna turned to Mike, and drew her gun, holding it down and away by the side of her body. Ready for anything. She nodded for him to check his own.
When he checked, he would find a creaking sound. Footsteps on old boards. There would be two men with flashlights. They were bored, and one would be talking about a sporting event he had lost a lot of money betting on.
She would follow his lead, to take down the second man if he took the first. Silently, if at all possible. No need to attract attention. They probably wanted at least one man conscious for the moment, to learn where the prisoners were… but she had not told him that detail. She really should have.