Mysterious Benefactors are Mysterious

[Ryan Foley]

Robin had spent a couple of weeks in Imperia, crashing with Ryan and her father. There hadn't been no run-ins with Thugs and Goons, per se, but they certainly hadn't been anything approaching a level of reprisal for the attack on the tanker. Business seemed to be doing well, as well -- for the moment, everything seemed to be going OK.

Which is why it might have been odd that, waking up one night, Robin would find Ryan gone, the window to the second-floor room where they crashed left slightly ajar.

[Robin Stanton]

"Hrmngh?" Robin eloquently grunts as she sits up and looks at the window, then over to where Ryan should be, then back at the window. "Ry?" she asks the room in general, rubbing her eyes as they shift to something better suited for night-time vision. Climbing out ones own window is not necessarily that odd in Robin's opinion, she's certainly been around enough people who have, including herself, but something feels off. She slides out of bed with a grumble and looks around the room before leaning out the window.

[Narrator]

Ryan's baseball bat was, indeed, missing from where she kept it propped up next to her bed.

The road leading up to the dock was quiet and mostly deserted. In the distance, thanks to her night-vision-eyes, she could just see a familiar figure slipping around a corner.

[Robin Stanton]

Strange. Robin feels like she made it pretty clear that she's always up for these kinds of shenanigans. She climbs out onto the roof and stretches her legs until they're long enough for her to step from one roof to the next, even if it makes her gait kind of wobbly. And so she sets out in the direction she thought she spotted Ryan in.

[Ryan Foley]

Robin, having extensive X-Man X-Perience, knew how to shadow someone effectively. In theory, at any rate.

It is, however, decently clear that Ryan doesn't particularly want to be followed. She wasn't only taking back streets; she was walking through walls and buildings, taking advantage of her ability to pass through things to make her path as difficult as possible to trace.

[Robin Stanton]

At first Robin just assumes Ryan is taking straight lines through buildings but soon finds herself constantly having to zig-zag around to peer down into narrow alleys and streets to figure out where Ryan popped back out. It gets a bit more manageable once she realizes Ryan is actively trying to throw any potential pursuers, but she still finds herself wishing she'd listened better when Will, Sam and Nailah had tried to teach her how to fly. Turns out it's more complicated than 'make a feathered arm and flap' and she'd never understood what all the fuss was about anyway. Plenty of things to do on the ground and it's not like she has a fear of heights. She's just not a fan of hanging in mid-air suspended by nothing, is all. Jumping, being thrown, sticking up like a beanpole on top of buildings? All fine and good. But flapping about in the air is different somehow.

[Ryan Foley]

Ryan knows her way around the backstreets; Robin does not. That makes it difficult to find her, and Robin in fact loses her entirely once or twice. But not many people are walking the streets at four in the morning, and it doesn't take too long for Robin to find her quarry once again.

Looking around, believing she hasn't been followed, Ryan walked down a ramp towards the side of an unassuming warehouse, and walked through the wall.

[Robin Stanton]

Robin carefully makes her way over to the roof of the warehouse and starts looking for a window that's open enough for her to squeeze herself through.

[Narrator]

No window is open -- this place is sealed tight. With perhaps a bit more security than you'd expect a random warehouse in the middle of Italy to have.

Sealed tight for normal people, that is. It's not like this place is hermetically sealed or something. Vent pipes for the HVAC and plumbing were plentiful -- it was a decently-sized building, after all.

[Robin Stanton]

Robin dislikes vent pipes and air-ducts. They're always grimy or dusty or both and that dirt tended to get absorbed into her. But if Ryan is out here on her own, possibly knocking some heads together for the sake of her dad's bar, she should really have her back. Just in case. And so she squirms her way past a slowly rotating fan, only getting spun around and corded up a little bit before she rolls and tumbles through the narrow duct. Occasionally she stops worming along like a caterpillar and turns her front into a big ol' ear to press against the wall of the duct to try and hear what's going on inside the warehouse while she looks for a vent to peek out of.

[Narrator]

The warehouse was mostly quiet, it being early in the morning and everything -- not a lot of business going on here, quite yet. Robin could hear some footsteps and muffled voices from here and there -- guards, possibly?

A little bit further down, she does eventually find a vent that seemed to lead out into a refrigerated room of some kind -- a meat locker or something? At the very least, it was a way out of the vents and onto the floor of the warehouse. Then again, this vent did keep going, and no voices were here, specifically... she could always take her chances, venturing further into the air duct, to try to find something closer to wherever Ryan had gone.

[Robin Stanton]

Getting out of the ducts does sound enticing, but on the other hand... cold. She decides to inch on a little further rather than get all sluggish in some cold room. At this point she's already dirty anyway and it's sneakier this way. Probably.

[Narrator]

More footsteps, more muffled voices -- and a rat that Robin had to scare off to keep going -- but Robin found another vent she could escape out of. Crate after crate was stacked -- perhaps not too surprising since this was a port town; things were shipped in and out of here all the time, right?

Most creates don't have a couple tattooed guys in tank tops with machine guns walking around at four in the morning, though. That was unusual. What the hell was Ryan getting herself into?

[Robin Stanton]

Robin oozes out of the vent to let herself land flat on top of one of the higher stacked crates and creep towards the edge. Two eyestalks poke out over the edge to watch what can only be criminals.

[Narrator]

They seemed to be on a general patrol, but weren't expecting company. Not yet, at any rate.

[Robin Stanton]

Robin slowly creeps down from her perch until she finds a crate that's not too large. Seeping into it she tip-toes to the floor and starts creeping after the patrolling guards, ready to stop and blend in with the surroundings should they look her way.

[Narrator]

This was a plan, alright, and like any good Stanton plan, was sure to work without any possible repercussions.

As Robin seeped into the crate, she would, presumably, notice what was inside of it, as well -- bags of white powder, carefully wrapped. Oh my god, they were shipping out flour!.


Robin tip-toed her way through the warehouse, in search of a crazy woman with a baseball bat. As long as she kept a decent distance from the guards, she could stay decently hidden; the crates were orderly enough that there must be some sort of organizational system, but unless her specific crate was investigated, she would probably pass off as just another box in a warehouse full of 'em.

[Robin Stanton]

Robin might be a little naive but even she can put two and two together to deduce that this is probably drugs. As to why Ryan didn't ask her to help knock heads together she's less certain on.

With the guards not seeming to lead her anywhere in particular other than on a patrol around the warehouse she eventually peels off and goes wandering around the place on her own to see if she can find if there's an office or some other place where people in charge may be hiding.

[Narrator]

An office! Surely where only the most evil of plans are hatched!

In all seriousness, from Robin's experience with These Sorts Of Things from her time heroing, people who have criminal enterprises like at least feeling like they are legitimate, with offices and chairs and extravagant luxury. And that instinct pays off once more, as Robin found the source of some voices

"...just need a couple more days, I swear..." a muffled voice came from behind a door -- Ryan? It kind of sounded like her, but muffled voices be muffled, even when you're not a crate filled with strange crystalline powder.

"...been more than fair, but our patience wears thin...promises must be kept... a second voice said. Probably not Ryan, unless she had her voice drop three octaves in the past 12 hours.

[Robin Stanton]

Time to abandon her genius disguise. She slips out of the crate, careful not to drag any of the drugs with her and reforms into humanoid shape. Creeping up on the door she tries to see if there's any gap at the bottom through which to peer while her ear extends on a stalk to press itself against the door.

[Narrator]

There is, indeed, a gap at the bottom of the door, good for just such a purpose. Ryan, leaning on her baseball bat and frowning, was talking to one of the largest normal people Robin had ever seen -- two meters tall, probably a good 200 kilos, and built like a brick shithouse. The suit he was wearing barely seemed to fit on the man

"...made a promise, Ms. Foley. And in return, you've received our blessing, and the right to continue operating. It is now up to you to repay the kindness to which you have benefited from," said the man, leaning back into his chair.

"Signore Stradaverde, I can not stress enough how grateful I am for the opportunities you have provided me. But what you're asking is...difficult, to say the least. Both practically and..." she trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.

[Robin Stanton]

Robin takes a breath and then slowly exhales, shrinking down as she does so, growing grey fur and whispers and turning into a rat. She'd go for a mouse but there's only so much mass she can manage to hold back. She just needs to get small (and inconspicuous) enough to squeeze underneath the door.

[Narrator]

No one noticed the rat slipping through the door, as the conversation continued.

"Ms. Foley. If you are getting squeamish about helping us, we could always find someone more flexible to fulfill our plans. Someone who is more willing to give their all for our family. Someone who might make better use of your prime real estate, yes?"

Ryan frowned, her grip tightening around the bat. "N...no, Signore. Just give me the stuff, and I'll...make sure she gets it."

[Robin Stanton]

Rats normally don't frown so it's probably good no one is looking at this particular one as she scurries along the wall to put herself closer to Ryan. At first to back her up if she needs it, but now she suddenly wonders if it should be to keep an eye on her for other reasons. But it does sound like Ryan is being pressured. Robin's uncertain what to think.

[Narrator]

The large man reached inside his desk, and pulled out a small case, with two syringes in them -- one filled with a clear liquid; the other pink.

Ryan took the clear one, testing it's weight in her hands as she rolled up her sleeve.

[Robin Stanton]

Robin might not know what is going on, but she'll be damned if she lets her friend inject herself with who knows what. Like letting go of a clenched spring she shoots up from a rat to her full height. A perspective shift that'd be enough to confuse or nauseate her if it wasn't something she's done all her life to some degree or another.

"Whoa, hey, Ryan! What the heck's going on here!?"

[Narrator]

To say Robin's appearance was surprising would be an understatement. Ryan's eyes widened, as Robin bounced out of nowhere. "Wh...what?" she stuttered, blinking.

"The shifter followed you here?" the larger man (Signore Stradeverde?) growled, reaching into his suit for something...

[Robin Stanton]

"Hands where I can see 'em, bucko!" Robin tells Signore Stradevere though from how tense her posture is she's not really expecting him to comply. "Ryan, what is this?"

[Narrator]

"This is, apparently, your idea of a rescue?" Ryan said, swiping the other syringe and moving to take a spot behind Robin.

"Ah, Miss Stanton. We've heard so much about you," Stradeverde said, raising his empty hands at Robin's command. "We weren't expecting you quite so early."

[Robin Stanton]

"S'more like... an assist? Did you tell these clowns about me? Why?"

[Narrator]

Stepping behind Robin for a second, Ryan attempted to jab her with the second syringe, the pink one.

"Because, Miss Stanton, Miss Foley knows how to answer when opportunity knocks," Stradeverde said.

[Robin Stanton]

While Robin is somewhat suspicious, she isn't expecting Ryan to literally backstab her.

"Opportunity to what? Make deals with crooks? What's this all abou--ow!" she jerks as the needle sinks into her mid-sentence. "Bwuh?" she manages instead as she turns towards Ryan.

[Narrator]

"I'm afraid your friend Miss Foley...is actually my friend, Miss Foley," Stradeverde continued.

"Sorry, Pink...it's hard out here," Ryan said, sounding authentically apologetic. "But you don't succeed here without connections. And, well, Signore Stradoverde has resources. Resources to help me get out of here, to be somebody..."

"Miss Foley proved very efficient in clearing the shipping lanes of our competition. With your help, naturally. I don't think she could have done it without you. Fortunately, we won't have to find out, now will we?"

Whatever Ryan had injected Robin with was making her feel woozy and wobbily -- though, apparently, that was the end of it. From the way Stradoverde was talking, it sounded like he was expecting more of an immediate effect...

[Robin Stanton]

"Buhb whu'ah fwonbds." Robin says with a tongue that feels too lose and takes conscious effort to wrangle back into shape. "You had me help the mob!?" she manages, though it's still a bit mumbled as she fights to keep her legs steady and her arms from noodling too much. Focusing on keeping her mouth working seems to make her foot shirk it's responsibilities and yearn to lie down in a puddle and pulling it back into shape makes her shrink an inch or three as torso cohesion has her sink into herself. Everything is un-firm and threatening to come loose when she isn't looking.

[Narrator]

"Not the mob, Miss Stanton. And you did help stop the 'Ndrangheta from gaining a foothold here, if your do-gooder brain needs to be reassured. I promise you, they were bringing in far worse things than our operation would touch."

"You gotta take sides if you want to climb up the ladder here, Pink," Ryan said, trying to support Robin to stand up on her own. "And there's room for upward mobility in the Mala del Brenta..."

[Robin Stanton]

Supporting Robin is less like trying to give a drunk person someone to lean on and more like trying to hold up a partially inflated flailing-arms tube man. She kind of folds and flops at the points of contact, arms and shoulders elongating instead of being held up until Robin herself catches on and reinforces the right bits, firming up under Ryan's hands.

"You don't gotta do anything. S'just easier being a jerk. An' you know you're being a jerk or you woulda have not lied to your dad." she says, taking a shot not entirely into the dark.

All the while her thoughts are racing to try and figure out how to stop this dude from doing whatever it is he has planned and... help Ryan? Knock her out and talk sense into her later? She's clearly not all the way on the mobs side here. But while she might be exaggerating the effects of whatever Ryan jabbed her with a little bit, she's not sure her body is reliable enough to just overpower him right now. She does have one trick up her sleeve that neither of them know about and she tries to subtly grow a hidden eyeball in her hand to take a look around for anything small put potentially useful she might be able to animate while everyone's focused on her.

A bunch of office crap, nothing imminently useful. She snakes a tendril out from the puddle that is one of her feet, hoping it goes unnoticed as she wriggles it towards the desk and all the stuff on it. If she can tag enough of it and give it all very rudimentary instructions maybe she can make enough of them move at once. She just needs to stall for a little bit longer...

[Narrator]

"Yeah, well, not all of us get to go to a fancy school with fancy resources and enough time to bumming around Europe and 'find ourselves', or whatever. Some of us gotta live in the real world," said the phase-shifting mutant working for the Italian mafia. She didn't exactly sound happy about it, but she was standing her ground. "You gotta open your own doors around here at times."

Robin's sneaky tendril shennaingans were going unnoticed as Ryan and Stradeverde focused on her and this dramatic conversation they were having.

[Robin Stanton]

"You coulda asked me for help instead of them. S'maybe not easy but there's always something you can do!" she says with emphasis and at the same time all the various things on the desk spring to life and throw themselves at the huge mafioso. Binders full of shipping manifests flap through the air and 'bite' at his face and arms, unplugged cables try to trip him up, pens hop and stab at his feet and aim to roll underfoot and make his stance unreliable.

At the same time Robin peels herself off of Ryan and puts what steadiness she has into her legs to ram into the man's mid-section to knock him down or into a wall.

[Narrator]

Stradeverde gasps as Robin drives her pliable body into him. He's sturdier than he looks -- it must be sheer muscle under there -- but it staggers him, for sure. Coupled with the assault of the office products, it's enough to knock Stradeverde away from his desk and the gun he had stashed underneath it. He wasn't able to block Robin's attack, as he flailed at Robin's animated objects, swatting away binders and knocking stabbing pens to the floor.

While Stradeverde himself wasn't able to launch an immediate counterattack, the commotion was more than enough for two mooks from outside to burst through the door, drawing guns. They didn't fire immediately, though, obviously afraid they'd hid Stradeverde.

As for Ryan, she stayed back, looking conflicted.

[Robin Stanton]

Robin winds herself around Stradeverde's torso and arm like a python, jerking him to and fro to try and unbalance him further. Her animated swarm of office supplies clutters around almost at random though they vaguely focus on Stradeverde and the goons bursting into the room.

"Look maybe I don't know what it's like but I do know that the easy way always comes at somebody's expense and the more people chose to help the easier it is!" she shouts over the commotion.