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[100 prompts - Work]

Fandom: The Shadow
Characters: Myra
Word Count: 358
Rating: G
Summary: Myra’s months-long absence is explained.
Author's Notes: Myra returns. She’s been gone so long, it was about time she turned up.

Myra dropped her bag onto the floor in her apartment in the Old Tiger’s world. Dressed in her updated clothes, her hair was pulled back tightly into a short bun at the back as she checked the door that had been locked for months, and started to turn on lights. After making certain nothing had been moved, or left, in the room, she collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

She had just spent the last few months in her own China, on orders from the Chief. She didn’t want to think about the kind of strings he’d had to pull, but he’d found a master to teach her how to protect her mind against the sort of invasion that had about destroyed Ming back when Khan had returned for what she prayed was the last time.

It had been difficult, arriving in Hong Kong, and staying away from her family, but the trip was business and The Shadow had expressly forbidden her from contacting her family on this trip. Having followed his orders closely, she’d soon arrived at the Tibetian plateau, and found herself in the presence of a Grand Tulku who met her graciously. The ensuing time had been grueling, with non-stop training to build her mind into something that could resist the long arm of evil minds wishing to manipulate her. She had not the gifts her Chief seemed to display in almost a natural fashion, but her will had been strong enough, that it was able to be tempered into a formidable barrier.

Now as she lay in the apartment that was furnished with sparse, but updated furniture, she wished she’d been allowed to return home, but the younger Shadow had ordered her to return to this world. He had no use for her currently, and she had been absent for so long, she wondered what had happened to the drug ring she’d been working with.

Realizing she should probably report in, she pulled out her PINpoint, knowing that Burbank’s number may have changed yet again, and sent a message to the Old Tiger.

Reldon, reporting in.


Jun. 28th, 2010 04:17 pm (UTC)
Coffee would be nice.

She's still suffering from jet lag, on top of just returning from training, and now PINpointing. It felt like she was caught in a whirlwind, and the caffeine would be much appreciated. She also saw it as an opportunity to get the approval of the Old Tiger, she felt he'd be the most sensitive to any improvement she's made during her time training.
Jun. 29th, 2010 12:16 am (UTC)
Ten minutes. Rettigue Apt.

He is not there himself, at the moment, but he can still contact Burbank to see what jobs still need an agent and beat her there with a few minutes to spare. By the time she arrives he is in the kitchen and setting up coffee to brew. A slim folder of papers is on the counter, along with his own PINpoint.
That much may be conventional enough, but the clothes he's wearing are ragged and dirty, a cap pulled low over his eyes and a bony elbow showing through a hole in one sleeve. It looks rather as though some shabby old bum has taken over his kitchen. His work clothes aren't always black.
Jun. 29th, 2010 01:54 am (UTC)

Is the quick reply back. Thankfully for him, she runs a minute or two late, looking as if she'd made a quick effort to clean up and remove the appearance of jet lag from her person. Her mind, however, has been sharpened by the training, and while she's tired, it's hardly a level of exhaustion that she was forced to endure during her time under the younger man's master. Her defenses are up, even if they still pale to the Old Tiger, anyone expecting an easy time of controlling her will be sorely mistaken.

She arrives in the Rettigue apartment, dressed as a casual Helen Menz in jeans and a loose t-shirt. When she sees his shabby appearance, her first instinct is to compare it to his usual appearance. Once she is able to verify to herself at least that he is of similar height and build, she walks over to the kitchen doorway, drawn by the smell of coffee.

"How much I owe ya' for th' cup'a Joe, Joe?" She delivers in her best Bronx accent.
Jun. 29th, 2010 08:19 pm (UTC)
"An update." He replies without turning around, pulling out mugs while the pot brews. The assault on her shields is swift and sudden, without warning. He pushes and pries, making an assessment, then retreats just as abruptly.
"You didn't miss much outside the usual criminal activity, by the way." He turns to her and leans back against the counter, pulling off the cap to run a hand through his silver hair. There are subtle differences in his face, but to her skilled eye it is a subtle disguise of dirt and a little make-up. His eyes are unmistakable, as he hasn't bothered with contacts. No one is likely to look a bum too closely in the face, in any case.
Jun. 29th, 2010 10:50 pm (UTC)
Her natural instinct is to resist invasion, and the master who she studied under taught her to use that to her advantage. She pushes back, not in any attempt to attack him, but to provide resistance to the advance. He may sense that some of her mind, particularly the parts most affected by Khan, has been shored up by yet another influence, likely the master who worked with her. She's not surprised that he's testing her, but she didn't put her defenses up any more than usual, it was a good way to test herself, and to prove that even if she is not expecting an attack, she can respond.

She's hardly a student of significant time however, she narrows her eyes and goes still while she responds to his assessment. When she feels the pressure release, she leans casually in the doorway to his kitchen.

"Do you consider that part of the update?" She motions vaguely in the air between them.
Jun. 30th, 2010 02:52 am (UTC)
"I suppose it is." The smile that flashes across his face is fleeting and a little grim, but not wholly unkind. "You've definitely improved. I assume you plan to keep working on it independently." He certainly approves, it's simply not in his nature to give many compliments.

"Any news?" He means from his alternate, as he is not certain he wants details from her time in Tibet.
Jun. 30th, 2010 10:51 pm (UTC)
"Of course." She intends to practice just as she was instructed. She's never been anything less than driven.

"Cleanup after Khan is mostly finished. The Chief's engagements in Europe and Asia seem to be going according to whatever plan he has in the works." She's on a need to know basis just like any other agent, but she does get some extra details occasionally, due to her own access to the information requested from the younger Shadow. "Last I heard from my parents, the Japanese invasion in the north-east had slowed to a crawl."
Jul. 1st, 2010 05:42 pm (UTC)
He gives a sigh and runs a hand over his grubby face. There's stubble on his cheeks and jaws, salt-and-pepper under the dirt. Whether it is real or simply part of a very detailed disguise is hard to say. "That's something. That's good. Our histories probably started to diverge the moment we started to interact, of course."
Jul. 4th, 2010 03:00 pm (UTC)
"Agreed." Myra nods, and gives a small smile as the smell of the strongly brewing coffee wafts through the air. "How goes things here?" It's been a while and she feels out of touch, particularly with Chaz. She knew better than to build too strong of a comradeship with the young agent, but she was interested in seeing the young woman grow up into a capable agent.
Jul. 6th, 2010 01:49 am (UTC)
"A lot of catching up, after Khan. The drug trade is still a little quiet, for now." Such a state is only temporary, crime waxes and wanes. "Muggings are up, but that's summer. More tourists to take advantage of, and no great minds or networks behind it. Arms dealing seems to be the big market, these days, but I don't have any big leads yet." He turns as the coffee burbles to a finish, tapping his fingers lightly on the counter. "The president issued a challenge to tear down the Berlin Wall, but I'm not sure how much that means to you..."
Jul. 7th, 2010 04:33 pm (UTC)
Myra is silent for a moment, drawing up on news articles and information she's reviewed.

"Berlin Wall...." Her eyes light as she remembers a detail. "The one in the middle of the city, separating democratic and fascist controlled halves of the city. East and West, respectively." She knew it should mean more to her, but at the moment it was still little more than a fact to remember.
Jul. 8th, 2010 12:31 am (UTC)
He nods, pouring the coffee and offering her a cup. There's a container of sugar on the back of the counter, but milk is always an unknown quantity in his apartment. He sometimes spends days or even weeks away, and tries to avoid buying anything that might go bad when he knows it inevitably will.

"If it does come down, it would be... a triumph." He sighs, almost wistfully. "We can hope."
Aug. 5th, 2010 06:24 am (UTC)
((OOC: Aaaaaaaah. Major LJ notifs failure from long ago. Trying to get back to these.))

"Here's hoping." She gives a small, reserved smile and raises her mug slightly, as if toasting the thought.

"So, anything new Helen can do for you, Chief?"
Aug. 5th, 2010 03:35 pm (UTC)
((That's all right, life has been busy here.))

He lifts his own mug silently in reply, and takes a long gulp. His shabby appearance may not be entirely a matter of disguise, but what he's been up to today has little to do with the work he has for her, so she'll never know. "Nothing big yet, but that could always change." He gestures vaguely at the folder on the counter. "What you need is in there. I could use you for a stakeout, later this week." That's the kind of job that sounds dull, but could always turn into something else very dangerous.
Aug. 5th, 2010 04:01 pm (UTC)
Myra's the last one to be unhappy on a stakeout, dull or otherwise. She reaches out for the folder on the counter, holding her coffee to the side as she flips it open and gives a glance at the information within. It might be helpful in guiding her conversation.

"What kind of mugs are we looking at?" They could be any sort of group to catch his interest.
Aug. 25th, 2010 03:03 pm (UTC)
"Drug dealers again. There's never an end to the drug trade, I'm afraid." He rubs at his eyes briefly, looking forward to catching a few hours of sleep, later. "I know I'm only catching the American distributors, but I can't get at the root of the problem, right now. On the other hand, if we keep taking out the right receivers at this end, the source will come to us..." There is a small, grim smile at that thought. Not only will the foreign drug dealers be angry over lost profits, but they'll also end up fighting him on his home turf.