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.
Pissed. Lenna was pissed. By now, she too was certain of it. The maze, it was changing. Forty-five minutes had helped her in this realization. Forty-five fruitless minutes. When a voice chimed in behind her, voicing the exact same thought she had been thinking, Lenna was actually relieved. For a moment, the feeling of ‘pissyness’ passed. But then, it came on back.
”Dead end.” She agreed tensely. ”I think it may be changing. More than it is supposed to change.”
They had said it would change from time to time, yes? But she had believed that to be over the course of days. Something some person maintained. Altered. But to change while someone was within its hedges... it seemed counter to what a maze was meant to stand for entirely.
With a sigh, Lenna brushed hair from out of her eyes. ”I only thought the Danger Room changed as if ‘reality manips’ were caged within its bowels.” Lenna said. She had heard that, too.Sam had said it could do what ever they wanted. And a student had bragged about the ever popular word ‘manips.’ Same kid. He was probably a manip too.
She peered at the boy, one hand shielding her from the sun. As a visor. ”What are manips? And why would a young mutant boy be so obsessed?”
The training room could do... whatever she wanted. Well, if that was true... interesting, for sure.
It was built to help teach power control. It sounded like some powers were involved in its operation, if it could do whatever one wanted. Mutants.... whatever she fskkking wanted, huh?
Was he... eating the salsa on its own? With a spoon or something? She had not out our chips, had she? Hrm...
If he ate salsa on its own, when salsa was a condiment... then perhaps the energy blasts were his own fault and he needed to work on his sense of tactics. You do not just eat salsa. It needs a vehicle. He could have just asked. Maybe he was making ice chips, and scooping it up onto them to crunch crunch crunch? But then that would be bad for his teeth...
Lenna nodded. Mhm. Energy beams from robots. Yes. Why was she focused on his salsa eating habits, and not his talk of energy beams and robots? Probably for the same reason she had focused on the holes in his shirt. He had perplexed her. He was perplexing.
He told her he would be ready when ever she was. Because he could be cool when he wasn’t too hot. Cool, she noted, but not cold. Like a mildly chilly afternoon in February.
”You can only improve,” She agreed graciously. Chugging salsa and walking around in ruined clothing was a low point, from which he could only go up, after all.
”One moment. Please allow me to wrap all these leftovers up. I will place a note on them in the refrigerator that says spicy! Eat if you wish. To let people know they are up for grabs. At their own peril.”
She smiled to herself as she put plastic wrap over the Pyrex glass dish full of food, as well as the bowl of salsa. Once they were all sorted, she found a package of yellow post it notes and wrote a hasty note for the two things. It said: “Spicy! Cool Steel says they are too much for him. Eat, if you wish!” Lenna did not allow Sam to witness the contents of the notification. Hastily, she slipped the foodstuffs away. Then, she rinsed the plates and placed them in the dishwasher for later.
Once all of the things were handled, she turned to Sam and nodded. ”Lead the way, Mr. “Powers are cold and the skill is steel.” Maybe I will learn something of blades. Could be... cool.” Her face was impassive, but there was a teasing twinkle in her eyes. Apparently, she just loved giving people sh**.
As she stood, eying the pantry, he snuck up behind her and held her. Lenna glanced over her shoulder at him.
”Other me does not like to cook much. Lot of takeout boxes in trash cans. Chips and things that do not require much cooking. Sad. I like to cook. I guess I stopped.”
There were packaged cookies, barbecue potatoes chips, crackers, and other things that would last a while. What were... pop pastries? And cereal, much much cereal. Lucky Clovers and Chocolate Os and Peanut Butter toast crunch. And some thing that looked fruity. All of it was high sugar fuel for a busy life. One where the person came home exhausted, and wishing to give no ffffks.
”Dry cereal and potato chips. Unless you want chili or soup. Maybe the fridge has eggs?” It had been a week or so since last she had checked.
There was soda, at least. And ice cream in the freezer. With the TV dinners.
”If there were fresher things, I would make you some thing nice. Oh well.” She leaned forward and grabbed the peanut butter toast cereal. Correction, it was chocolate peanut butter toast cereal. Dios mio. She passed him the box.
Stories were fine, the pin was better. Lenna mimed sticking a needle into an invisible pillow. Tossed the pillow over one shoulder. Nodded. Moved on.
He eyed at her, and she thought he was trying to mouth something. Looked like... peanut butter and jelly? Lenna continued smiling, innocently.
He said he’d be fine with what he had, and she kept on smiling. Whatever he wished! She even kept the smile up, when he mentioned date.
Oh, the poor man. He thought this was a date. Was it? She personally had considered it lunch. Had she not told him this was the best she could do?
To let him down hard, let him down easy, or simply... sidestep the whole scenario?
Lenna shrugged one shoulder again, and finished her food. The awkward topic went sliding by, to miss her completely. How lucky for them!
What kind of training did she wish? ”What kind of training does one normally do, in this... what do you call your training room again? I like conventional weapons and martial arts, but if you do something interesting... to get holes in your shirt... might be interesting.”
He did not want to talk. Well! This suited Lenna just fine. Talking, about feelings. It was... not what she did very often, yes? Shooting the, how did they say it in America? Sh**? That was far more comforting. Talking about nothing. Avoiding emotions. Hitting things, with your fists. Much more healthy for handling problems. Unless there actually actually was reason to share...
He had grinned and shaken his head. He wanted to keep things to himself. Lenna looked at him skeptically. There was relief, plenty. But yet—
”This is fine.” Lenna said mildly. It was preferable, even. Still— ”And yes. Where I grew up, if you had problems you focused on your training. Eventually, you forget the problem.” Or it festered, and grew worse.
She could drop it. Dropping the topic cost her nothing and made things far easier. Yet she felt like there was something there. Some common ground.
Lenna was trying to be more open to people. It had worked with Cowboy, worked with Sky. Usually, she would have let this drop. And felt good about it. But this time...
”I do not really wish to talk about myself. If you ever do want to talk, however... imagine we probably have similar stories. For today, lunch and training are more than enough. A pin, will be stuck in it. As they say.” Lenna shrugged one shoulder.
She cut another bite and ate it. Looked across the table at him. ”So after you finish being nice and struggling through food too spicy for you, we can train. Yes? You know I can make you the peanut butter and jelly, if you need something mild. Do not want you to burn apart.” She smiled at him, as if the thought was not mortifying, but rather funny.
The ice breath, it was very interesting. Yes? Like his mouth was up in flames. Her food had been spicy, but it had not been that spicy!
She chewed another bite. Nope. Not that spicy. Drank some water.
He was right, she could have just asked. But had she not... just asked? Maybe her wording had made it sound more mercenary than it needed to have been... and he was just going to try the salsa anyways, was he? Some do not listen to helpful advice.
She suppressed a small smile as she continued eating.
>> ”You can call me cool.” Sam smirked.
”Cool,” she commented. Her voice had a teasing quality to it when she said the word.
Cool Steel was as good a nick name as any, she supposed. She could probably do better. But it would be ok for now. She liked giving people nicknames. Like Cowboy and Swiss Miss snd Mama Sky.
He tried the salsa, and... had to quench the heat with more milk. She had told him. His face as he had eyes the milk, though... Amelia would likely laugh when she told her about the whole thing.
As he began speaking of this TAT, Lenna placed her silverware down in order to better listen.
TAT was short for TATMAH. That was a mouth full. Tactical anti terrorist... she was intrigued. What did all the other letters mean? Tactical anti terrorist... management assembly hierarchy? A few different possibilities ran through the back of her mind as she focuses on Sam.
Was this group connected to SUPER? She had no idea. They sure sounded like they were in the same ballpark.
Kidnapping kids. Turning them into weapons. For a moment, she felt a sudden connection to Sam. Had he... been one of the kids? He did say ‘we’. His comment about being the first one out alive solidified that thought. Yes. He had.
”Wow...” She said. Was there actual sympathy in her tone? ”They sound like ass***es. I have known... people like that.”
Lenna looked at him, actual concern on her face. ”Are you okay? Do you... wish to talk about it... I... I do not know this group, but — I know a thing or two about being raised and honed, like a weapon. About how it messes... changes...” She grimaced, struggling for the right word. Then she found it, and her face hardened. ”Fsssks with you.” she said.
How had this suddenly become a meaningful conversation? He had actually gotten her to open up, slightly. Which put him in a very small pool of people.
On her phone, the track had changed from Shakiras ‘try everything’ to ‘hips don’t lie.’
Bounty? Of all the replies she could have expected, that had not been one of them. And he had mentioned it so casually, too. But then, maybe X-men people were often the targets of knives in the dark.
Lenna nodded and kept silent, as he spoke of this supposed bounty... and some thing called TAT. Some thing called TAT, which had “wasted agents” on him. Was this thing like the government agency, with the SUPER men? She compartmentalized that, as some thing to ask of later. Then, focused on explaining herself. And the situation. He had not relaxed yet. She had to put his mind at ease.
He did not relax, in fact, until she had placed the knife back on the table and seated herself. Only then, did he sit down and eye her. Maybe grand gestures were bad when people are paranoid folks? Oops.
Her bite placated him, at least a little. Yes, he was paranoid. Cautious ice man from this mysterious TAT. What was his story? Was he as interesting as her?
He took a bite, and— Lenna did not smile. Not one bit. The face he made... no. She did not smile outwardly at the humor of his face as he bit off more than he could handle. But inwardly, she was greatly amused.
She listened as he stammered and rambled through the pain of good spice. It was good he did not believe her the type to poison. She personally thought poison was weak. Any fool could poison. Long range assassinations took real skill. And close range was so much more personal. In theory. Eliana has always done that. Lenna had been told much, but her actual experience with murder was... lacking. Limited... to the kitchen, really. To spicy foods. And she had never had a fatality yet.
Amelia was correct about one thing. Despite being overcome by the heat, Sam attempted to act as if the heat did not touch him... and all for one cute girl.
Lenna allowed him to finish constructing his cool facade. Gathering himself to compliment her, even as he cursed her. He even... spoke Spanish. That earned him an eyebrow raise of his very own. He could cherish. He had momentarily broken her own facade. She would have to return the favor.
In Spanish, Lenna replied. ”Thank you. The extra spice. I added this just for you.”
She batted her eyes. Smiled a serene smile.
Really, she should have been thanking him for thinking her incapable of poisoning him. What a sweet thing to say! He had basically called her strong! That he had thought her capable of attempting to kill him had been yet another glowing endorsement! Those two things counted more to her than his attempt to compliment her food.
“You are very welcome,” she added. Still in Spanish.
To her, the orange salsa looked very orange. She had gotten the spiciest of salsas for its base. He reached out for it. Wordlessly, she stretched out her hand and placed it over his before he could reach the bowl.
Her eyes met his eyes. She shook her head.
“You cannot take this heat.” She said, continuing the all-Spanish, all-the-time trend. “Please.”
She released his hand, and rose to walk past him to the kitchen fridge. There was the sound of a door opening, then closing. A cupboard. Clack. The pouring of something... and then Lenna stepped up behind him and set a tall glass of milk by his plate.
Lenna leaned forward, to speak by his ear. It was English again, finally. Hooray!
“They should call you Cool Steel,” she said. The smirk in her voice was obvious. “Because I melted your face. Just a leetle.” Just a little. He was no longer as ‘cold’. She chuckled to herself, then strode back to her side of the table and sat down.
“The milk will help you. I probably just saved your life.” She said. “Repay me by telling me, what is TAT?” Her eyes were lowered, to her plate. She cut herself another bite, and dipped it in her own orange salsa pool. Ate it. It was good. Unlike him, She could take the heat. Tasted like orange.
He was still stroking her hand when he answered her question, about the remote. And about taking a break.
In her mind, she knew logically that he had brought up bedroom and break in two very different lines of thought, rather than in conjunction. The bedroom was where she spent more time. She had noted that it had greater levels of personality, herself. But when he stroked her hand and said ‘bedroom’, then teased her about the things he might see within the room? Then, hit close, with the head on shoulder thing? Logic really was not in it for her interpretation of the way that conversation had headed.
She snorted, and bumped her shoulder into his.
”Goof ball. I know you did not mean to, but you phrased that very poorly. But, yes.” Lenna grinned. ”Lunch break now, bedroom later.” She threw a blush in alongside the grin, because she could not stop it.
”For business.” She added quietly.
—
The kitchen, it held many canned goods. Soups, chili, beans. There was rice and there was pasta. The fridge held some things of note. A lot was expired, however. But the freezer held several fried heathen foods and healthy TV dinners to create a sort of balance. The pantry was a confusing mess of chips and things.
Strange. She’d thought the kitchen was an empty face before, but now she was noticing all sorts of personality. Maybe her perspective had changed.
Her action had caused him to be wary. Good. Anyone foolish enough not to be cautious when a person had a knife in their hands, they would not be very good to train with. Yes? Too naive. Too trusting.
His summoned blade was impressive. A man who can bring their own weapon from the air itself can never be caught defenseless for very long. Although the formation itself gave way to its own weaknesses.
The sword came, the sword went. Personally, Lenna had liked his little quip. Powers are cold and the steel is cold. Now the alias made sense.
She inclined her chin towards him, in respect.
He asked if she was going to attack, and Lenna almost smiled.
”Now, why ever would I do that?” She asked. After a moment, she added. ”Again.”
”The point of this meal was to make up for doing so earlier, with words. I want friends, not enemies. No. I was contemplating people at this mansion who would be worth my time to train with. I did not know you had any skill until after I had already invited you. Relax.”
She placed the knife on the table. Then, she seated herself. ”Have some lunch. Try the orange salsa. It is actually good.”
She dished you and began eating, herself. To prove it was harmless. she hoped he would join her. He would need the energy. One way or another, they were going to train.
Sam had not dressed up nicely. Neither had she. Lenna had put on blue jeans and a black Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt after her morning run (and shower). She had left the jacket in her room. Her shirt, though... it did not have holes in it as his did.
Lenna stared at the holes. He apologized, though not for the holes. Lenna nodded, slowly.
Holy s****.
He surveyed the table, and gave her praise.
”When I do something,” she answered him. ”I do it right. I promised you empanadas.” she waved her hand at the spread.
She had promised. She kept her word. Maybe she had gone a little overboard?
The comments about ‘dates’ and ‘love’ were conveniently lost in the conversation, with no reply.
”So. They call you... Cold Steel. I can see the ice. In the holes in your holey shirt. That works for Cold. But what of the Steel?” She quirked an eyebrow.
Her hand lowered to the table, and closed around a table knife. She flipped it in the air in front of her, then caught it. She looked at him quizzically. ”Just a nick name, or did you train with blades?”
Part of her had wanted to hold the knife with both hands, and pose like a Jedi. Complete with lightsaber sounds. Just to mess with him, and see how he responded. But she had wanted answers, not the peal of laughter such ridiculous actions would have elicited. She had held back.
He... was a pretty good boyfriend. So far. As far as she knew. She could get confirmation from someone. But the whole ‘accepting her’ thing, and understanding they were both dealing with things... helped?
He would not hold it against her if she had done things in her past line of work. She had been raised to do it, after all. And the multiple instances of Lenna made the whole thing complex.
They talked of other things. She told him about the picture... and herself. And that she liked him. They may have already covered that, but it bears repeating after major revelations and confusion get introduced to a conversation.
Like her: ‘Oh, I was an assassin.’
Him: ‘My other self killed his father.’
Her: ‘That’s okay. I still like you. What do you wish to do about lunch?’
Stuff like that.
She did not think those thoughts consciously, but they ran below the surface of her mind. Below the revelations and complex crap. Because she could poke fun at her self. And it was good he could, too. Because he liked her. And realized he was not perfect, either. And liked her as she was.
Good. She nodded. Smiled at him. They were free. Now, she could crack jokes. Relieve tension.
She smirked at the hand-kissing, and shuddered a little bit. It was not something she was used to at all. Her hands were not soft. They were calloused, from hard work and training.
”We will just have to make sure date three is easy. Maybe a movie and dinner. I can cook tacos.” she said lightly.
She could more than just tacos. But tacos were easy. They were going for easy. And it had been the first thing to come to her mind.
Of course, they were still on date two. Not yet date three. So they would have to continue along the path she herself had set, with all the complicated revelations and reveals... unless they just did not.
She briefly took a couple aspirin. Then, spoke again.
”I would ask if you got any thing important from the remote control, but I think a break is in order. Maybe some lunch... Unless what you saw was very important? What, did you find out I work for the government men or something?” She teased. Then realized, maybe it was less ridiculous than it had first sounded. It might make a lot of things make sense.
Now, while she HAD said sandwiches, she had been thinking Torta. But what she had actually told Sam was “empanadas”... which were a bit more involved. Still, she had said empanadas. Lenna would not break her word.
The Mexican torta she had been thinking of was definitely more of a sandwich. They put it on a crusty sandwich roll, with garnishes like avocado, Chile pepper, and onions. She had learned to make them from one of her soldier friends. One who had actually grown up in Mexico. And they were good. Empanadas, on the other hand... were something else.
An empanada was a type of baked or fried turnover with pastry and filling. Eliana herself had shown her how to make them. And they were delicious. She did not know if Sam was a beef guy or a chicken man. Bulletproof Amelia had told her he was the type who would say whatever she made was the best thing in the world, even if it was terrible. She had decided that she was in a chicken mood. So she had made spicy chicken empanadas! She had also made a fancy salsa. When she did a thing, she did it right. Even lunch.
Fancy new cellular phones were amazing. She had learned how to search the internet for things from people around the mansion... actually, she had asked Amelia. That was where she got the salsa idea. The internet web. She recalled the recipes she knew, but... it is still worth it to double check all of your details. And inspiration had struck.
The mansion kitchen had contained many ingredients, but she had run to the store for several extras, such as rotisserie chicken. Green Chile’s, Jalapeño, salsa verse, pie dough, and... yeah. Many things. It was good that an older mansion student had agreed to drive her to the store if she taught them some Krav Maga. How that had come up in conversation was a story for another day. She had needed the car space for many bags of groceries.
She had sautéd the peppers and onions, mixed cilantro, lime juice, and chicken. Then mixed in the sautéd pepper, Chile, and onion mixture. In, went cheese. Salt and pepper.
The dough had been cut into circles, then filled. She had egg washed the dough’s circumference, then folded it over and sealed the edges with the tines of a fork. Then, she had hauled out a deep fryer and cooked them until they were all a golden brown. Drained t them on paper towels. then she had made the Salsa while the empanadas cooled.
The salsa was easy. One jar salsa verde, mixed with 1/4 cup orange juice and 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper.
Shopping and cooking had taken a while. Long enough, Lenna was glad she hard started preparing shortly after her talk with Sam and Amelia that morning. Shopping, from 9-10. 11-12, cooking. She had just finished, in time for Sam to arrive. If he showed up on time.
The table was nicely set, and food was on a plate in the center. The orange salsa was in a bowl. Shakira played from her cellphone on the counter. A song she had not heard before. Try Everything.
Why had she tried so hard to make a nice meal? Was it simply because she wished to do things properly? No. She had an ulterior motive for striving to impress the man. And, she wanted to do things correctly.
Blue-green eyes rose to survey the room. She had heard a voice. It had come from the direction of the television.
She had not jumped. She had not been startled. Mildly surprised, but she had kept her face neutral to cover that up.
Before she rose, she scanned the sides of the room. Checked the corners. The ceiling. If the television proved a dead end, she would check beneath the chairs.
Lenna rose. She walked over and turned the television off. Then, she said ”Hello.” to an empty room.
She had not been calling him a medic. Lenna had been inquiring upon whether or not the girl needed on. But, some people think everything is about themselves. She said nothing at his little joke, just stared at him. And he clarified.
His clarification was that the mansion had a healer who might be able to heal the girl.
”Yes! That is what I am talking about,” She nodded, mollified.
And of the healer did not heal, there was no reason to panic. Because it seemed it was not serious enough to require more than ice. According to Sam.
Sam asked who had shot the girl, and Amelia said — well, she gave a really involved story. It sounded like she had tried to be some sort of heroic figure. And gotten shot over it. Wait. What was this about a hoodie?
She cut in, when the girl asked if she needed to see some doctor.
”You need to listen better. He said ice it. It will heal. And Amelia... are you saying... you have a hoodie that blocks bullets?” She blinked at the girl, somewhat amazed.
Amelia looked at her, and — wait, had she just winked? What even was—
“Yup, Lenna. My hoodie blocks bullets. I need to figure out how it works so I can make one for Sam.” She shot the man a thumbs up, then retrieved her coffee and burrito. She offered Lenna a bite of the burrito, as well.
What was it, with strange people offering her bites of their burrito?? She accepted, Of course. But it was strange.
Looking to Sam, she said ”You will meet me in the mansion kitchens today at noon for lunch. Yes?”
It had begun as an escape attempt. A retreat from her studies, into nature. Quickly, that all had changed.
Lenna liked nature. She had spent a lot of time in the jungles of Colombia, hiking. Training. Learning survival skills. To her, the forest rumored to be outside the mansion had been like a magnet. It had drawn her in. Of course, then she had seen the giant mass of hedges on the way to the forest and stopped to ask a passing student ‘what in the hell is that?’
They had told her. “Hedge maze!” Cheerfully, they had explained. “Mansion students and teachers maintain it. It’s always changing. Nature mutants, maybe. Or reality manips.”
She did not know what manips were.
His description of a constantly shifting maze of green barriers had captivated her imagination. He had not captivated her. Somewhere along their conversation, she had began to fear he was ‘hitting on’ her, as the children put it. She pointedly had ignored that, while gathering information. Once she felt she had obtained suitable intelligence, he had amiably agreed to show her to the maze. That had been about when he had made his final play.
During the conversation, he had tried twice to blatantly flirt with her and gently been rebuffed. On his last attempt, he had swung for the fences and struck out, hard.
“I can walk you through the maze,” The brown-haired boy has smiled. “It’s a nice day. It’d be a good walk. I know the place well... plenty of secluded areas. Some of them are even... romantic?” He had winked. Winked. “Could be fun~” he had sung.
That had been too far. Lenna had straightened her back and looked at him, sternly. Her light Spanish accent added emphasis to her crisp words. ”First. I have a boyfriend. Second. You are not my type.” She had snapped.
He had frowned at her.
“Not your... type?” ‘But,’ he seemed to be thinking. She could see his mental gears turning. ‘I am handsome! How can I not be some pretty girl’s type?’
So, she had clarified her position for him. ”Not. Orange. Enough. Thank you for showing me the maze.” and on that note, Lenna had turned and stalked into the hedge maze in a huff.
The boy had watched her go, silently. Then, when she had vanished out of sight around a corner, he had ambled over to the outer wall of the labyrinth and calmly placed a hand upon the hedge. He closed his eyes.
—
The day was chill. It was not yet the warm weather of spring. She was still getting used to American weather, but she had dressed appropriately in a black leather jacket, with a white t-shirt with an orange on the chest underneath, orange and white sneakers, blue jeans, and a black silk scarf. Her hair hung to her shoulders, brown and flowing in the breeze. Lenna wished she had thought to bring a hair tie, or a ribbon.
She wished she had brought more than just a ribbon, honestly. If she had known of the maze, she would have brought things to prevent her from getting lost. And that would have been good.
Lenna had never read Hansel and Gretel. Never read any Greek myths of labyrinths and enchanted string an a man with the head of a bull. She would have planned, without the strong grounding in fairytale mythos that allowed small children to contemplate bread crumbs and thread trails. It was unclear what she might have brought. But maybe markers of knives to carve the ground up, and a compass? Those would not have helped, ultimately. But she had not known that.
As she went through the maze, it shifted behind her. The shift did not occur within her vision, but it happened. Hedges swung like screen doors to close off previously traveled paths, or to open new ones which lead to dead ends.
It did not take long at all for Lenna to get lost.
