Megaman - Thursday, March 09, 2000, 11:24 PM
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Rooftop Runway <Hunter HQ>
While it bears a fancy name and important function, this chamber is really no more than a glorified garage where the vehicles and Ride Armor sit when not in use or while being maintenanced. Large storage closets are against the back wall, directly across from the hangar doors which lead out into the Neo Tokyo sky.

Twila Peterson wanders into the hanger from the Command Center. Too late at night for some sort of lesson or training it stands to reason she may be up here with some other intent in mind. She peers about as if searching for a certain someone.

Now it all depends if that certain someone is a certain technician. Who's at this very moment, perched up on the shoulder of a certain ride armor, fiddling with the certain camera head that offers his view for certain internal monitors.

The area where the Ride Armors are usually kept in place when not in use is one of the first places Twila looks for her brother. A small grin is found on her lips as she lifts her gaze upwards and finds him sitting several feet above her at work. Her arms swing around her back as she studies him for a few moments before letting out a small whistle. "Patient gonna live, Doc?"

Rick Morgan grunts as he tries to get a set of cables back where they're supposed to be. With a careful motion, he loops them over the 'head' and starts to stuff them down into their housings. He's -just- finished when he hears the whistle from below, and cracks a small smile back, glancing down at Twila with a grin. "I think so. She might be temperamental...dunno if she's forgiven me for being rough on her during the last few outings."

Twila Peterson swings her arms back in front of her so she's more able to cross them in front of her chest. "Tsk, tsk. Well, know what they say about a woman scorned..." she chides playfully before her features straighten somewhat. "You have some time free shortly?"

With an audible *CLANK!* Rick slides shut the panel that had exposed the wires and cables within, then turns to face downwards. With a quick push, he slides easily down the front of his mecha, across the smooth metal surface and landing right next to Twila with a slight bend of his knees and an audible whirr of his feet. Not to mention the clank of metal on metal. Responding as if he'd jumped no more than two feet up, he turns to face his sister fully. "Actually yeah now that you mention it. I just caught some shrapnel during that last fracas I was in and had to repair the camera lines. So that's all done..."

Twila isn't quite certain she'll ever *fully* get used to the abilities her twin possess with those legs of his. The jump doesn't really surprise her. Rick's done it more often than not. Still, she does offer a tiny blink in response...which is all she offers in regards to that. Idly she glances back towards the Kodiak before switching her gaze back to the cyborg as if in silent thought a moment more. It then she states, "Well...I was just wondering...when you think we should talk about getting in contact with her. I...just have a deep feeling now that everything is somewhat 'back to normal'," as it ever gets around here, "we shouldn't really wait any longer."

Rick Morgan raises one hand and slowly brushes his hair back, unaware of the black streak of grease he leaves on his forehead in the process. Instead, he's lost in a quiet thoughtfulness, though he does nod to Twila's statement. "Yeah..." he muses gently, finally hooking his hands on his jeans. "Kinda while we have the chance and everything. In this line of work...you never know when things might go crazy again...." He then lifts his gaze fully, glancing back at Twila's eyes. "Do you think we should call her?"

The girl's arms unfold as she steps back to retrieve a clean rag from close by in order to clean most of the grease from the young man's forehead, offering a lopsided grin as she does. The cloth is then given over so he has the chance to clean his hands a little before he soils anything else...not that she's aware he's already used to it by now. "We...should. I mean...*we* want to see her and meet her and everything...but we should really check with her first if she would want to meet us. And if she agrees...maybe set things up." She sighs. "Just got me thinking. This may open up some things for her she may not want to face."

Rick Morgan makes a bit of a face as his forehead is wiped off, squirming only a little bit. Hey, he's not used to being fussed at when in the hangar of all areas....although deep down he probably enjoys it. Not that he would ever admit to such of course.

Gloves are pulled off, and slapped onto the table nearby, as Rick wipes his hands off before reaching for his clean pair. Notably, the ones that Twila gave him as a gift. No dirt and grease for -these-. "Yeah, you're right..." he admits, finally setting the rag aside. "Well...we have to at least give her the -option-. If...if she thinks otherwise, she'll at least have been given the choice."

Twila Peterson nods quite slowly. "Personally, I don't mind admitting I'm a tad nervous about this. But, if the past few weeks have taught me anything...it's don't leave things unsettled for long. Never know...what could happen."

Rick Morgan takes a deep breath, and nods slowly. "Yeah, same here. Though I shoulda known better I guess. Chalk it up to nervousness too..." he gives a small smile, before asking. "Where should we put the call from?"

Twila Peterson bites her lower lip. "Was hoping you would know. You're supposed to know everything remember?" she slightly jibes to try and lighten her present state. She then shrugs. "Not sure. Command Center would probably have traffic. Besides, if an emergency came up..." Not only the privacy factor would be considered...but also if any background noise which may elude to where the twins are calling from. No need to cause alarm within who they're calling. "One of our rooms...or maybe the research lab?" The latter suggested since there's not too much happenings as of late.

Rick Morgan hmmms thoughtfully, and then snaps his fingers. "I got a video phone linkup in the terminal in my room. Alotta people have those nowadays...so if she has one, it can be used."

Twila warms to the idea. "Maybe. You're room it is then...You have the number and the info?" The recent question is more than likely moot. She has the information as well. And, Rick was the one who obtained the information in the first place.

Rick Morgan does offer a smirk then, and raises a finger to tap at his head. "Since that day that I finally found her, I haven't forgotten it Twila. I musta sat there staring at that screen for hours....like tryin to reach out in some way." He sighs, and then shrugs his jacket more solidly on his shoulders, stepping to the side and facing towards the command center. "Anyways...shall we?"

In answer Twila turns towards where she first came and nods. "Yeah. Just...remind me not to faint...kay?" she asks as she begins walking.

<Soon...>

Rick's Pad <RP>
Better than it used to be, Rick's room has undergone a serious re-cleaning effort, though it still retains the qualities of a single male living in here. The far wall is covered in various charts and sketches, all of varying pieces of machinery in different states of repair, or cutaway views. Rick's bed, (which is generally unmade) sits tucked in the corner of the room, nothing special. On yet another wall, there's what appears to be a desk, with a terminal set up on top of it, which is constantly glowing as it's hooked up to who knows what type of information providing service. Finally, next to the door, there's a set of shelves upon which are set countless models, almost all of them being of different models of Ride Armor, or in different varying states of repair. Of course the largest model on the shelf is the replica of his real life project that he's sunk so much care into. The Kodiak.

Rick Morgan leads the way through the varying hallways of Hunter HQ itself, until finally reaching his room, where he slides the door open and steps in, clicking his light on in the process. His terminal is still on, having been running various programs in his wake, and the dull glow from its monitor fills a small space around it. The room isn't -too- much like a disaster area right now...at least not compared to how it usually is.

Twila Peterson glances around at Rick's belongings, musing openly, "Roll must have been cleaning in here again..." Her eyes fall on his terminal, permitting her brother to be the one to set the call up. "After, it's ready, maybe I should be the first one to say something. I mean...young man calling may off-set her somewhat."

Rick Morgan nods then, and can't help but smirk just a bit. "Pretty sad when society thinks that any strange man is a stalker," he murmurs. He doesn't bother to sit down at the seat, since he'll be giving it to Twila within a few seconds anyway. His fingers fly on the keyboard, tapping up some of the keys in sequence, before he straightens up and steps to the side, out of the range of the little optic sensor mounted on the top of the monitor. "Either that or she'd think I was something 10 times worse...a telemarketer." He manages a nervous chuckle...before finally taking another deep breath, and motioning to the terminal again. "It's all set...you just have to hit 'send'."
"Telemarketer?" Twila mock-shudders as she slides into the seat at his desk. "Thanks alot. Now I'm going to have nightmares later on..." Her smile fades as she moves the cursor over towards the "send" button on the screen. A silent prayer is uttered and then she clicks. For several unbearable moments there's a computerized ringing is heard, symbolizing that the phone number was at least functional and in use. During this time, Twila exchanges glances with Rick before turning back towards the screen, fidgeting.

Upon the fifth "ring" the main window on the screen scrolls across a message, stating the phone had been picked up. The letters brake apart soon after as an image is picked up by the connection. A woman of about 40 years appears on the screen. Her facial features are fair and almost delicate. Her auburn hair, almost the same color of Twila's, is cut and trimmed short and bears some streaks of gray. But the eyes are a clear blue, an almost exact mirror of Rick's own. The individual studies Twila for a moment or two before sounding out an uncertain, "Hello?"

Twila is somewhat struck by the similarities and shifts slightly in her seat. "I'm...Twila Peterson. Are you...Ms. Lauren Hemmings?" the girl fumbles.

"Yes, I am," the woman confirms. "Is...there a way I can help you?"

Rick Morgan may not be on the image that is fed back to the other party, being off to the side for the moment. But he can certainly see the woman staring back, and even though he's trying to stay as quiet as possible, Twila can barely hear his sharp intake of breath. Any doubts that his research might have been wrong...that his search programs were in error...are slowly disappearing with each passing second. Staring in a way that just refuses to be broken...Rick clenches and unclenches his hands into fists and back...suddenly finding sweat beading up on his brow.

Twila does indeed overhear the sharp intake of breath...and very nearly sounds an echo as time passes. Can she help them? Is the sky blue? It takes all that she has to keep from uttering a squeak. "Yeah...I mean yes." She stops to clear her throat. "Ms. Hemmings, over 20 years ago, did...you give birth to twins...a boy and a girl...and..." The girl shuts her eyes, trying desperately to compose herself.

Lauren falls quite silent on the other end of the line. Her brow noticeably furrows in concentration. Although the woman attempts to hide a deep pain, she finds that she can't. "Give me a good reason why I shouldn't terminate this call right now." What's strange is, the woman just doesn't hang up right then and there if she well and truly believes this to a prank or...something foul.

"Ms. Hemmings, please don't," Twila pleads softly. "It wasn't my intention to bring up bad memories. I know those two children were stolen from you. But believe me...I have a good reason for asking. You see..." But right then Twila lifts a hand towards her mouth to muffle a sob.

There's no way that Rick can stay out of the picture now...especially not in being so close, and at the risk of losing their grip on what they've been looking for so long. With a quick motion, he darts up behind Twila, where she sits, and sets both hands on her shoulders, as if to offer reassurance, as he too glances at the image. He opens his mouth to speak at first, and finds no words coming forward, as if he were suddenly struck dumb.

But somewhere, inside, he forces himself to talk, for fear that the figure on the other end of the line could disconnect at any moment. "It..." he starts, picking up where Twila left off. "..you see, we...we only just..made some discoveries ourselves.." he speaks in almost a whisper, but knows the sensors can pick up his hushed tone. He lowers his gaze for a few seconds, taking a deep breath before going on. "We...we're those twins. We're the ones who disappeared...and we've been gone that long. We...we only just found that out recently..."

Twila lifts a hand to cover one of her brothers as if in silent thanks for his mere presence.

The image in the other end of the line wavers from some static. The static clears as soon as it began, leaving a very stunned individual on the other end of the line. Lauren darts a lengthy glance towards Twila first, as the girl lowers her hand and places it back on her lap, and then faces back towards Rick, also studying his facial features....carefully. She opens her mouth to speak, finding that she can't at first, and then tries again. "I---," she stutters. Lauren moves from the screen momentarily as if to regain herself. When she's looked on again it's obvious her screen's camera has moved to trace her now seated position. She now appears emotionally strained as attempts to gather her thoughts. "I---I see. And how...tell me how this came about?" For all intents and purposes, she looks as if she wants to believe. But, for reasons both clear and unclear, she's a bit wary.

It's then that Lauren trails her gaze towards Rick once more...eyeing a particular fabric which rests on his brow. But she doesn't comment on what it is she's gazing on, at least, not yet. Her gaze lowers itself, studying the two young people who are sitting oceans away from her, contemplating...and struggling.

Rick Morgan moves to a kneeling position now, as he stays right behind Twila, looking over her shoulder so to speak as he stares at Lauren's features, almost taking in every feature of her form with a passing glance. At her desire to hear more, Rick chances a feeling of optimism...and a squeeze of Twila's shoulder. "I'm...Rick by the way..." he adds, remembering he hadn't introduced himself to begin with. "Twila and I only just found out about each other not that long ago...through accidental circumstances so to speak. I'd never known I was adopted....though Twila knew she was." He takes a deep breath, and sighs, pushing down sour memories of what happened with his -own- half not that long ago. "After some...digging into our respective ends, we figured out who our father was." He keeps his gaze locked on Lauren's features, as if to try and judge her reaction to the next part. "...Steven Mattis." he speaks evenly. "We...also found out what had happened to him....." he sighs, taking another breath...and fairly leans on Twila now. "...that's...that's why we wanted to try and find you even more...and as we dug, we found more answers along the way of what had happened..."

Now more than ever was Twila is grateful for her brother's presence and gently applies pressure through her fingers to give his hand another squeeze. "My parents..." She stops to correct herself and then continues. "My adoptive parents told me when I was 10 I was adoptive. And...ever since then I was searching. Before Rick and I found out...we recently discovered about Steven Mattis and that...he was my...our...father. He also learned that my birth records had been falsified somehow...and something clearly wasn't right. It was around that same time I learned I was a twin. So...we searched further," the girl explains...filling Lauren in on what Rick hadn't, then feeling foolish as if she had somehow done or said something wrong.

Hemmings quietly listens, taking this all in. She offers Twila a small nod. But looking within her complexion there can be traces of compassion. The woman turns back towards Rick just then as she masks her feelings, questioning quietly, "And...what answers have you found?"

Rick Morgan is grateful for Twila to fill in the blanks...indeed the two seem to work almost as one in this case. "That was when...a situation came up where Twila's bloodtype and mine were compared. It was found that we -are- twins...no doubt about it..." He can't help but smile..just a bit at that. Probably still his -best- memory out of it all. "So afterwards, we did our searching. We already knew what happened to our father...but we didn't know anything about our mother." Somehow, he wants to tell her...and let her know just how -hard- she was to find...but he lets that go in a much gentler tone. "...it took alot of searching, but we found you finally, your connection to him. You were the only one...." he sighs. "..we knew about how you had thought about giving us up...." he closes his eyes then. "...and how you changed your mind...only to have us stolen when we were born. I...I can't begin to think what that was like..."

As Rick's voice trails off, his sister's picks up. "We...just had to let you know that we found one another and were alright. Even...even if you never wanted to hear from us...again..." Her words diminish as well as she fights back a sob which lodges itself at the pack of her throat. Her head leans on Rick's shoulder momentarily as a tear streaks down her face until she feels she's able to calm herself from the sudden emotion.

The woman on the screen flicks her gaze towards one sibling, and then another. Her own eyes glaze as she digests what she's hearing. Could it be true? Could--. It's apparent by now that she's still trying to maintain her demeanor. But it is becoming increasingly difficult. "I felt I died that day," she whispers, the hold finally breaking.

Rick Morgan moves his hands downwards, gently hooking them about Twila's midriff as he just holds her, watching Lauren's features on the screen quietly. At her own words finally spoken...he feels a mixture of sorrow and joy at the same time. She -didn't- give them up....she -did- want to keep them both.

"It....it took us alot of thinking to call you..." he murmurs, keeping his hands locked on his sister's form, as if she were his last hold to anything in this world now. "...we didn't know the deeper details of what had happened...or if you even wanted to see us again..." while his composure remains admirably stable...one can hear it in his voice, the strain...the emotion behind it. Especially moreso visible to someone so fine tuned to him...

Twila Peterson bites her lower lip as she sits back up. Her hand moves to cover themselves over Rick's once more, as if by doing so would keep him next to her...although his entire posture indicates that he's not thinking of going anywhere soon.

A tear courses down her cheek, followed by another as she looks upon the images of her grown children. Any words she wishes to speak suddenly fail her, allowing her only to stare openly towards the too. "I would very much like to see you...both of you. I've always wondered if either of you would have wanted me within your lives after..." The woman suddenly turns away to excuse herself briefly. Her vid-phone picks up the quiet sobbing that can be heard from off-screen. When she returns, it's a few minutes later. But she now appears more in control as she sits there with a Kleenex within her hand. "I'm sorry...I never thought..." She apologizes and then questions, "Where would you...like to meet?"

Rick Morgan takes a long, deep breath again, closing his eyes for a few seconds, and then opening them, now his own blue orbs fairly shimmering with moisture. "Anywhere...you want to..." he returns gently. "We have...access to transportation that can get us wherever you are. Anywhere in the world..." another squeeze is given to Twila as he speaks, only this time...it's one of confidence...perhaps a bit of triumph.

Twila feels it as well. She says little. For the moment she allows Rick to do most ot the talking for them both.

Hemmings considers this silently. Her eyes trail back to the bandanna Rick is currently wearing, but then she again refocuses on the siblings. "You had tracked down this number. I assume...you know where it is I live?"

Rick Morgan blinks as he sees the woman's eyes stray, and a confused look comes onto his features for a few seconds. Until he suddenly remembers the item wrapped around his head...and he reaches up to touch it, a suddenly shocked look on his face. How could he forget!? Slowly..his fingers untie the bandanna, and he slowly lowers it, allowing his hair to flow freely now, about his features...perhaps alot so like a certain father. "Yeah..." he says quietly, giving a slow nod. "We...uh...we know. And we can get there no problem..."

The man's act of removing a declaration of his membership with the Maverick Hunters isn't commented on by the middle-aged individual. Instead, she slowly nods. "It...might be best if, we wait to talk further when we meet. Is the time or day a factor? And...how many hours difference is there between our two locations?"

"It doesn't matter when...or where..." Rick suddenly offers, his soothing tone rising as he raises a hand at the same time. "We can get there...anytime, anywhere you want. Whatever hour you want to list and would work best. Believe me..." he exchanges a glance with Twila then, and then looks back. "I think after what we've been through...time isn't a big issue."

Twila Peterson offers a sniffle upon the trading of looks and nods towards Lauren. "When---whenever you would like," she echos, speaking for the first time within ten minutes or so.

There is a drawn out silence as the woman on the other end of the line thinks on this. "Tomorrow evening, about 6:OO PM Central Standard Time?" she offers slowly.

Rick Morgan gives a slow nod in response. "That sounds fine. We can get there in time no sweat..." he returns. A moment of awkward silence then follows, as he stares at Lauren for a long moment..before finally adding, "Thanks...for giving us a chance...and not hanging up."

Twila belatedly gives an indication of agreement. "Thank you, Ms. Hemmings..." she states respectfully, not being able to think much more of what she could possibly say right now.

A dip of the chin is directed towards the screen. "I---Tomorrow it is then...at 6 in the evening." Without warning the woman betrays her turmoil upon her countenance and reaches up towards her vid-phone. The connection is immediately severed. The window on the screen reverts back to the state it was in before Rick had set up the program for the call...only now it's displaying a message asking if the user would now like to place another.

The girl can only stare at the computer and it's screen in a lapse of 30 seconds, before it hits her full force and she embraces her brother tightly, burring her head within his shoulder. Her muffled sobs can be heard littered among what she tries to get out. "She...we talked...with her!"

Rick Morgan tilts his head back, as his arms move to hold Twila close. A shuddering breath is taken...one of great release, as he feels one of those unimaginable weights suddenly lifted from his shoulders. Then, he tilts his head forward, burying his face against his sister's form. "She wants to see us too..." he whispers, hands holding her tight. "She...you heard her yourself. She -did- miss us..."

"I...heard," the young woman replies shakily, tightening her grip. "Think...she'll like us?"

Rick Morgan smiles reassuringly, hugging her close, as he leans forward to gently kiss her forehead. "If she didn't want to like us...she wouldn't have wanted to meet us Twila..." he whispers. "Only time's going to tell...but I think we've got ourselves a good start..."

Twila Peterson blinks back a few more tears, letting out a small sigh. "Yeah...guess so..." she says, although some uncertainty can still be found laced within her voice. "So...what time...is it we're...supposed to meet our time?"

"Probably about...six in the morning around our time." Rick answers quietly, kissing Twila's head again gently, before sighing and rocking her slowly with gentle motions. "We'll just have to be sure we're well rested...that's all. Though I dunno if I'll sleep well tonight..."

Twila emits a grunt to that. "And you think I will?" she inquires in turn, feeling herself calming from her brother's gentle touch.

Rick Morgan chuckles then softly, a reassuring tone to it. "No more than I would expect you to Twila..." he says gently. "We'll let the others know that we're going out to see her at least...so that they won't wonder where we got off to."

Twila Peterson recalls something. With her forehead still resting on the shoulder of her sibling she asks, "Rock...and Roll had asked earlier if they could come. What...exactly do we tell them?"

"I...." Rick stops at that, and seems to think it over. "...I don't know exactly. The truth I guess...and to tell them what she expects too for that matter...."

He can probably feel, more than see his sisters upon responding. "Kay," she emits. She holds on to him rather tightly for a little while longer. It is then her grasp begins to loosen and she gently pulls back. An arm reaches up to wipe her eyes with her sleeve. "Guess...guess we should both get some sleep soon then, huh?"

Rick Morgan smiles gently, reaching up to softly touch her nose with his finger. "Yeah....." he says quietly. "Though I'm gonna stay up and take care of a few more things if we're leaving tomorrow. I just gotta work on them, that's all."

"Try not to stay up too late, kay?" Twila pleads as she sneaks in a snuggle along with a loving kiss on the cheek. "Love you, Rick. I don't think...I could ever let you know how much I really do."

Rick Morgan smiles, and can't resist hugging Twila back tightly at the same time. "Love you too Twila..." he returns with a smile. "I think we make up for more than just words in alotta ways still.."

And Twila just can't resist smiling back. "I guess we do at that. Thanks for being there. And thanks for...you being you."

Rick Morgan laughs gently. "I can't imagine myself being anybody else..." he winks, before finally straightening and standing up. Good thing his knees are metal, or they'd be majorly hurting right now. "Now you'd better try and get some sleep huh?" he offers.

Twila Peterson starts to protest by making a slight face, but quickly relents. She rises to her feet to join her brother and nods quietly. "Yeah...I suppose I should. Night, Rick." After yet another hug she edges towards the door. "Tomorrow we may actually find out who's older. For some reason...wouldn't be surprised if it was you if only by a few minutes. You sure do know the part..." she teases.

Rick Morgan smirks just a bit, and gives a small shrug. "Hey...call it falling into the role. Course could turn around and get me too in that case. Guess we'll see soon enough." he chuckles, and makes a shooing motion. "Get off to bed."

"Fine, fine..." the girl groans as she reaches the doorway. Before stepping until the hall she casts the Hunter a look of respect as well as admiration and love, sounding off a quiet, "Night," and then slips out of the room, leaving the technician alone with his belongings.

<Next day...>

Megaman - Friday, March 10, 2000, 3:39 PM
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============================== Maverick Hunter ===============================
Message: 10/38 Posted Author
Family issues Fri Mar 10 Rick Morgan
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Rick appears on screen, rubbing his eyes slowly. The backdrop of his room can be seen behind him.

"Rick here...this is sort of a personal issue but...it's to let you guys know in case you're wondering where Twila and I will be tomorrow most likely. We finally got in contact with...our mother." he straightens up then in his seat, glancing more fully at the screen. "After some talking, and straightening out of a few things, it was decided we're gonna go and see her tomorrow, to do alot of catching up that's really needed. Unless there's some really big issue that I'm needed for...in which case, better let us know real soon. Other than that..." he shrugs. "...nothing else. Rick out."

With that, he disappears from the screen.
==============================================================================

Twila's Quarters <TQ>(#3681OeM)
Encased within white walls and teal carpeting lies the fashioned quarters of one lone woman. The room itself is sparsely decorated save for one or two framed prints of the oceanic life focusing on the whale and dolphin hanging on the wall above the desk. This desk, as with several other pieces furniture wooden and of an antique design. Upon the desk rests Twila's laptop computer as well as a minimal amount of accessories. The bed lies against the adjoining wall, its mattress and bedding covered with a Pennsylvanian Dutch patterned quilt. Also noticed on top of the bed are two stuffed toy lions (one large, one small), and a teddy bear. On a nearby nightstand rests a Bible and three framed photes. One displays a photo taken of a petite blond and her husband of Middle Eastern decent who stand behind a young red-headed girl appearing to be between the age of 11-13 years. The other is of her and Rock as they were at the 1212 Halloween party when she dressed as Megaman's younger self and Rock came as Zero. The third is of Cossack and Kalinka. Beside the nightstand is a hand-crafted metal statue of the "Blue Bomber" himself.
Not far from the door rests a padded basket-type bed for the girl's young, mischievous cabbit. Kyo-Ohki will more than likely be found here if she's not with Twila elsewhere or exploring the vast ventilation system trailing throughout the base. Spread around the basket are some toys she likes to play with on occasion.

Twila Peterson is currently laying across her bed, resting on her stomache, while studying the framed photograph of her adoptive parents.

Rick Morgan lets the door slide open for his entrance, slipping in a few seconds after its clear. While still clothed in his usual attire, it's obvious he's switched to his 'good' jacket et al, which are never exposed to the grease and other dirt that comes with his job. His eyes sweep around the room, until resting on Twila herself, and he manages a small smile. "Hey Twila..."

Kyo is idly playing with a squeak toy when she catches sight of the cyborg. She sits up and hops over towards Rick, and brushes herself against his metallic legs in greeting.

Meanwhile, Twila happens to gaze up and offer a tiny smile in return. "Hey." She pushes herself up to where she's sitting up while still holding to the picture within her hands. The girl's dressed casual, but nicely so. Her hair is slightly curled and styled as well. A glance is directed towards the picture she holds once more before she resets it on the night stand besides the photo of her and Rock at last year's Halloween party. "Got any sleep last night?"

Rick Morgan smirks down at where he registers Kyo rubbing on him, and he thusly leans over to pick her up and place her in the crook of his elbow. Of course, the other hand starts scritching her in the process as well.

"A bit...though I didn't bother coming back to my room." Rick chuckles. "Kinda fell asleep at a terminal at the command center." He then glances over towards the picture that Twila sets back. "Time for....reflections huh?"

Twila Peterson dips her chin and offers a small sigh after commenting, "Command Center? Why am I not that surprised..." There's a pause. "Yeah...I guess I was just thinking on...what they would have felt about all this." She pauses to offer a grin towards the animal as Kyo trails off into softly mewing as she rests within Rick's arms. "When they first told me, they were concerned and all, but stated that they would be behind me if I ever did find her and want to meet her."

Rick Morgan hmmmms, and nods. "I guess they never would have even known what had happened in the first place." he muses, as his fingers gently scritch across the top of Kyo's head. "I mean...how we even came to be set up for adoption in the first place." he sighs, and shakes his head. "I think we're gonna get alot of things sorted out tonight......at least I -hope- so."

Twila Peterson gives a shrug. "Maybe...maybe not. She...may not know all of it herself." She then states, "Although...we'll probably learn for once and for all which of us was born first..." There's a bit of a frown. That sounded lame, even to her. A foot kicks lightly at the carpeting for a moment when she adds, "Still trying to think of what exactly to say. Wait so long, and then everything seems to go into a blank."

"Well we managed to get by last night..." Rick offers, moving up closer to stand next to Twila's bed, and gently set Kyo down at the same time. "And that was a big hurdle in itself...though I suppose tonight will be the real test." He shrugs, and does offer a small smile though. "But neither one of us is facing it alone..."

Twila brightens a little at the very thought. What more can she do but get to her feet and wrap her arms around her brother lovingly. "You have any idea how grateful that makes me feel?"

Rick Morgan blinks, but responds naturally, wrapping his own arms around Twila back, and giving a small chuckle. "Well I guess I didn't at first...but I think I'm getting a good idea...." he returns.

There is a warm snug given before the girl pulls back slightly. "I wish I had your strength," she muses quietly.

Rick Morgan hmmms quietly at that, and raises his thumb once again to gently brush the tip of Twila's nose. "Hey I don't know about strength. I'll tell you this, I may look like I am now but inside my knees are knocking faster than a jackhammer."

Twila emits soft chuckle at the gesture of brotherly affection. "Well, ok then. Wish I knew how to 'fake it' as well as you did. Can't...even tell much of a difference." .oO(Since he insists on being so technical.)Oo. Inside she's aware he's just as nervous as she is about this. How could she not?

Rick Morgan hmmms, and actually -does- smirk just a bit. "I guess that's a talent that I built over the years..." he offers wi th a quick wink.

A smirk is tossed towards him in response. Twila doesn't say anything more for a few moments as she tries to gather her thoughts. Something drifts within her mind from last night suddenly on the wave of those thoughts. Her fingers reach up to brush against the fabric of the patch sewn onto her brother's bandanna. Her arm then lowers just as quietly. "You may...want to remove that when we first arrive. Where we are and live...and work is nothing to be ashamed of. It's just..." Twila then casts her gaze towards the floor. "We'll more than likely be telling her. But, probably something that should be told in it's own time. She's more than likely as nervous about this as we are." Best not to unknowingly upset or confuse her more.

Rick Morgan's eyes trail her hand up as she reaches up to touch the fabric, and he already knows all too well what she's referring too. "Uh...yeah..." he says quietly, reaching up to touch it as well. "Last night...I forgot as it was..." he muses, more than a little embarrassed and ashamed for that. He sighs then, and gives a quick nod. "I'll take it off before we go tonight...I promise."

Twila Peterson picks up her gaze, almost apologetically. She well recalls how Rick's adoptive father felt regarding the Hunters and his son's chosen occupation. She also knows how much those feelings hurt him. "I gathered she already saw it. She may already be aware there's some type of link." It's then she begins wondering if Hemmings happens to recognize Rick from any news reports or whatnot. If she had, she didn't say. But then, that's a bit much to presume isn't...considering? Best to assume nothing at this point.

Rick Morgan has wondered just a bit about that as well....although he hasn't worried about appearing on the news all that often. "Yeah..I guess. Also it isn't too often that people can travel the world over with ease....." he returns. "...so I figure it's adding up." He then glances down...unable to keep his eyes from his metallic legs then. His eyes close, as he heaves a sigh.
"There's still plenty more surprises for her as is..."

Twila Peterson lays her hands on both his shoulders as her eyes trail within the direction he looks and then glances back up towards him. A hand raises itself to brush Rick's cheek. "We'll...have to take it slow. Both of us will. But as you said, neither of is going alone."

Rick Morgan smiles then...and raises his own hand to pat hers. "Yeah....true." he returns, before chuckling finally. "Look at us...we're gonna be nervous wrecks before we even leave. I got a few things I still gotta do to get ready anyway..."

Twila Peterson nods in understanding, her lips bearing a hint of the remaining smile upon them. "Best you get them done then," she notes softly. Upon leaning forward, she gently kisses his cheek where her the back of her hand brushed his skin. "Just let me know when you're ready to go. I'll probably be remaining somewhere on this floor until then."

Rick Morgan nods, and steps back slowly. "I'll call up for you when it's time." he promises, before turning towards the door itself. "Won't be too long anyway. Try and relax a bit till then..." he smiles. Shyeah right...like he'll be even able to practice what he preaches. With that, he slides the door open

<Time passes...>

Rick Morgan sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "Hey Twila...I'm all done up here. You ready to go?"

You send a tightbeam radio transmission to Rick Morgan: "As ready as I think I'm going to get. Where...should I meet you?"

Rick Morgan sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "I'm up in the command center at the moment. I'll wait for you here."

You send a tightbeam radio transmission to Rick Morgan: "Kay. Be up shortly. And remember...breathing is good."

<Soon...>

Command Center <Hunter HQ>
Monitors and computer consoles line the walls of this cavernous room. In the center of the room is a round computer with holographic display, its lights flashing busily as it processes information about mavericks, and their last known sittings. Computers along the walls are also occupied with an information-processing task. Technicians and other Maverick Hunters run about hastily, monitoring the computers, and making sure the information is as accurate as it can be. The whole air of this room exudes purpose and drive, and the hustle and bustle seems never-ending. On the south wall are two large bulletproof windows which gives you a view of the rooftop runway and Hangar Area. A large blast door in the middle of the two windows, giving easy access to the landing strip.

Twila Peterson emerges from the grav lift, smiling lopsidedly. Some of her nervousness is apparent by her mere posture, but not overly much. Her eyes scan the room for her brother as her hands stick themselves within the pockets of her jacket. Finding Mike first she offers a nod towards him and then spots her sibling. "Kay..."

Rick Morgan glances over at Twila as she comes into view, flashing a quick smile in her direction. "All set to go?" he asks.

Twila Peterson dips her chin slightly. "Asked and answered I do believe. You?

Rick Morgan smirks faintly. "Still tryin to figure that out. But no point worrying over -that-." he then starts moving towards the big double doors, leading the way. "See you later Mike..." he offers back.

Michael Eildath nods. "See you guys later.

Twila...well...Twila follows him out towards the hanger. She offers the other Hunter a wave as well. "Hold down the fort til we get back." she bids.

Twila Peterson takes a hand out of one of her pockets as the step outside, brushing her reddish locks back. "I look alright?"

Rick Morgan moves up towards the hoverbikes, frowning to himself for a second as he eyes the front of each of them. Which of course carries a standard laser weapon built in. A quick set of digging produces the armored cowling that he slides over the protrusion, and thus hides it from view. No sense giving stark reminders of where it is that he works. It's then that he glances back at Twila, and gives a quick wink. "Like an angel." he teases.

Twila Peterson slightly blushes at the remark, regardless if it was a tease or not. "Thanks...you do too," she grins. "Guess...I should get on now, huh?" Erm....yep. Noticeable that she's nervous. The girl almost wishes she could simply hide somewhere, or at least a part of her does. "Make you a deal," she comments while slipping onto the back seat of the bike going to be used. "You don't comment on how nervous and...I won't comment how nervous you are. OK?"

Rick Morgan smirks. "Deal....." he offers, as he then moves to mount up behind the handlebars of the vehicle, starting to power up it's turbines in the process. "We better get goin if we don't wanna be late...." he says then.

.oO(Suppose not...)Oo. Twila muses as her arms snake around his middle to hold tight to him. "Deep breath now..."

Rick Morgan eases the throttle of the bike forward, powering it up even more as it's pitch starts to build in volume. Finally, with a gentle motion, the vehicle trails away from its parking space, to turn and begin moving out of the hangar bay itself...and to the city beyond.

<After some traveling...>

Midwest
Often confused with the South, the Midwest is the area between the Great Plains and the East Coast. Many of the areas here are a mixture of suburbs, cities, and sleepy towns, acting as a sort of transition area between the Great Plains, the South, and the East. Most of the identity of this area is tied to the Mississippi and Ohio rivers, which once acted as a lifeline to cities nestled along its banks many centuries ago. Filled with a rich diversity, many stories can be found about the adventure and excitement that once thrived along the rivers.

The mountainous region designating this as the land of the Ozarks surrounds the two humans as the roam the highway which directs them towards the town of Rolla. Despite all the population growth within the other cities, Rolla's population remains under 15,000: Quite small in comparison when compared to San Angeles or Neo-Tokyo. This is quite apparent with the two reach the city-limits and enter on into the city as well.

Twila muses a bit as the siblings continue on, thinking of how much this view reminds her of her former home within Sewerd, Nebraska all those years ago. "How much father do you think?" she questions, hoping her words aren't tossed to the wind.

Rick Morgan keeps his eyes on the road mainly, though he reaches down to punch in a few commands on the console mounted at the front of the hoverbike, just under the handlebars. A map image comes up, which begins to point out the direction to where they want to go right now. "Not too far, just up a couple streets over here..." he muses, pointing towards a line of houses. "We're almost there..." With that, he signals his turn, and pulls up on the handlebars to soar -over- the groundbound traffic and get to where he wants to go.

Twila offers a nod as she sneaks a peek of the aforementioned map , finding indeed that the wait won't be too much longed.

The houses that Rick had pointed out trail on either sides of the streets. On occasion an apartment complex will emerge. It is at one of these complexes where their final destination lies. And soon the sign indicating Sycamore Apartments soon comes into view. They've finally arrived.

Twila offers her brother's middle a squeeze as they turn into the lot reserved for the vehicles. She idly notes, looking at the building, it's nice kept, although seems a bit...modest. She, however, keeps these thoughts to herself. "Guess...this is it," she mumbles out.

Rick Morgan continues to guide the hoverbike along the streets of Rolla, until moving to the destination that the two siblings are looking for. With a downthrust of the throttle, Rick slows the hoverbike down, pulling up its nose and setting it skillfully into a parking space at the back of the apartment complex. Rick's hand flicks over the kill switch, as the engine dies down, and he casts his own gaze to the building as well. "Yeah seems so..." Rick muses quietly, taking a deep breath...and not quite getting off the hoverbike just yet.

Twila Peterson presses her lips together as several moments pass. After sitting there for what seems an eternity she finally moves her foot down to the pavement. Gaining her balance she lifts her other leg carefully over the seat and from the side to move herself off. She draws in a breath of her own, waiting for Rick, but in no way pushing him. "Pretty big step we're about to take," she says softly.

"No bigger than what we've already taken really..when you look at it." Rick muses, then snorts to himself as he throws -that- idea out. "But it seems like a hundred miles to go right now..." With that, he too swings free of the bike, his metallic feet clanking onto the pavement below. "We better get moving...she's expecting us after all..." he then pauses, as if remembering something, and proceeds to untie his bandanna, quickly bunching it up in his hand and slipping it into his jacket pocket.

Twila Peterson nods slowly in response, watching him momentarily discard the cloth before resting a hand on his forearm. "Guess you're right. Come on." She then steps towards the complex itself...mentally recalling Lauren Hemmings resides within apartment 301b. Third floor.

The two will note that there doesn't particularly be anything of interest within the lobby as they enter. Other than some furniture arranged within a square shape to the side there seems to be little else to see except for the mail boxes on the opposing side. Decorated within earthen tones, whoever had designed this building in mind didn't obvious didn't think much of fancy decor.

The grav lift is located near the back of the small lobby. It opens to let out an 80 year old man who nods politely too the two as a hobbles along with his cane. He gives pause as he notices Rick's cybernetics and blinks with a shake of the head sorrowfully. But he soon goes on his way and out the front entrance.

Rick Morgan is for this moment, too caught up in the potential meeting that's about to take place. Thus, he misses the old man's glance towards his...metallic extensions. For the moment, he takes the ride up the grav lift with Twila, slowly bouncing up and down on the heels of his feet, before finally settling down. "Um...maybe you oughta stand in front when we knock..." he offers, glancing down at himself once again. "Kinda like what we did with the phone."

Twila Peterson agrees. "Yeah...probably should," she notes. "Would be less intimidating. Although...I wouldn't really be surprised if she had someone with her. We...are strangers after all..." As if she really needed to remind him. The lift doors open, allowing the two to emerge after their short ride. The two soon find themselves passing 300b noting, without intent, the room they search for is on the left side of the hallway. Right side is A...Left side is B. Another few steps carry them to apartment 301. Twila bites her lower lip in mild hesitation, and casts a look towards Rick.

Rick Morgan glances back to Twila quickly, and gives a reassuring smile, before leaning forward to rap his fist on the door three times solidly, before stepping back and letting her stand in front. Not that he's trying to throw her to the sharks so to speak...but rather to keep up appearances instead.

Twila Peterson fully understands and, had been the one to suggest she be the one Ms. Hemmings when the phone call was first initiated. The girl stands up straighter as a conversation from within is immediately halted. Footsteps can be heard approaching the door. After a few seconds pass the door opens to a crack, stays in that position for a moment more, and opens more fully, revealing the same 40 year old woman the two siblings had spoken to the night before.

Lauren Hemmings stands there in shocked silence, examining the twins intently, not saying a word. When some time had passed she seems to realize she's staring. "Twila Peterson...and Rick?" she asks quietly, before gazing towards the man, trying to recall if he had given her a last name.

Rick Morgan hadn't indeed given a last name at the time. Chalk it up to nervousness. He snaps to almost rapt attention then, coming out of his own staring phase for the longest moment, giving a quick nod in the process. "Yeah...." he says quickly. "And uh...last name's Morgan...for me that is. Thought...you knew that..." Hoo boy, there he goes, cheeks starting to get flushed in the process, and he starts to rub the back of his head slowly.
.oO(Oh good start....-real- good start...)Oo.

The middle aged woman takes a step to the side while still holding to the door. "Please, come in," she offers with an attempt of a smile. But it's clear by how she's standing that Rick and Twila aren't the only one's off-balanced because of this.

"Thank you, Ms. Hemmings," the girl states politely as she takes an intake of air upon venturing into the apartment.

The first thing, or rather, person she sees is a man aging about 30-35 years old, average height, fair skin, and neatly trimmed wavy honey brown hair...although his hairline seems to be in recession at first glance. He wears a simple pale blue oxford shirt, navy slacks, and black shoes. He seems to be gazing at the new arrivals with some wariness. But he smiles warmly all the same.

"I...told my Pastor of last night's call," Lauren explains. "I asked him to come."

The minister nods towards Hemmings gently and then focuses on the two. "I'm Pastor Mark Howard of First Community Baptist. I'm sure both of you will understand my presence considering the circumstances."

Although the Pastor doesn't make verbal comment as Twila moves away from the cyborg, Lauren's facial features pale as she catches sight of his metallic legs. Not knowing what to say she darts an alarmed glance towards her pastor, not knowing what to think. She then eyes Twila with widened eyes as if seeking for some sort of reason. If they were her children...they would have had to have been human. The young man...is apparently mistaken for a reploid.

Rick Morgan follows Twila quietly as the invitation to enter is given, nervously moving his hands and hooking them into his jacket pockets then. His eyes dart over to register the man's presence, and he gives a slow nod of greeting as well. "Uh...yeah." he says quietly, suddenly finding a bit of a knot in his stomach. Well if he's to be nervous...he may as well go all the way. "Kinda easy to understand..." His eyes dart back towards Lauren again for a few seconds, and he indeed catches that paling expression, and the staring eyes. For a few seconds, he actually stares back blankly...not realizing what it is, until he glances down at the same time, and it clicks. Nervousness suddenly flushes out to be replaced by everything else imaginable. Sorrow...embarrassment...shame. THIS is what he feared, and it's visible right there in his features, even as he averts his gaze downwards, and slowly closes his eyes. Very much wishing the ground would open up and swallow him right now. "Th...they're cybernetic...." he practically whispers.

Twila weaves an arm around one of her sibling's to offer him some sort of reassurance that she's right there with him even as she watches the exchange. Her eyes pan towards his legs as well, then over towards the other two before stating quietly, "He is human and he is my brother," she fumbles, swallowing hard. Rick's arm is gently squeezed before she adds, "And...as he said, the legs are...cybernetic. He was injured in an accident several years ago."

Pastor Howard dips a chin towards the two younger individuals and seems to accept this more easily. Being within the ministry has a tendency to expose one more to certain situations and people than other professions. His features betray his compassion towards all three others in the room for a long moment. He then states, "I'm very sorry to hear of your accident. I'm hopeful that your extensions are serving you well." He turns towards his parishioner and adds somewhat more quietly. "Lauren, perhaps it would be better if we all sat down."

Hemmings indicates she agrees after a moment's brief hesitation and gestures towards the dining room table. "I...yes..." she mumbles, while she herself is seated in a chair as well. "I...apologize. It wasn't my intention to..." The woman stops to compose herself, mustering the courage to look up again. "I'm deeply sorry, Rick."

Rick Morgan composes himself at Twila's touch, and takes a deep breath. Though he slowly glances up at the Pastor, and gives a slow nod at his words. "Thanks..." he murmurs, before filing along with the rest of the group. Even as he seats himself, he casts a glance towards Lauren across the table, and offers another nod. "It's all right." he says quickly, raising a hand. "I uh...I kinda get that alot. So I guess I should have expected it..." He glances over in Twila's direction briefly, having made sure he sat next to her in the process.

The Hunter did indeed sit next to his sister. Something Pastor Howard inwardly notes. He places himself on the side somewhere in between the mother and children to observe...and to lend a hand where needed. The impression that the two parties are having some difficulty with this is quite apparent to him.

Twila offers Rick's arm another squeeze, whether it was to be a reminder or an encourager remains unclear. More than likely both. She opens her mouth to speak, but can't seem to find what she wants to say. She's been thinking of this moment far longer than her brother. And now that the moment has come, her mind's a complete blank. Her eyes glance down towards the table as she tries to still her thoughts.

Lauren's features soften as she seems to speak whatever it is Twila's thinking. "I've...always wondered about this...moment, what I would say. And now that it's here..." Her gaze flicks from son, then daughter. "Where...do we start?"

Rick Morgan remains silent as well for a long moment, before lifting his gaze to glance at all those present at the table, and finally taking it upon himself to speak right now. "Guess...it kinda takes all the planning one puts together and tosses it out the window, huh?" he offers, before straightening up. "Well...since we came to you...it wouldn't be right if we started throwing questions left and right. I figure you've got the right, with this being your home...and we called you...that if you want to know anything right away, feel free to ask." He steeples his fingers over one another, as he folds them on the tabletop then.

Twila Peterson keeps her arm around Rick's as he speaks, continuing to remind him of her presence and perhaps seeking strength in knowing his as well. She...doesn't add anything to what he said, but appears to agree with him.

Howard leans back within his seat, glancing over towards the woman. Sounded as a fair enough proposition.

The mother bites her lower lip, trying fight back the flood of questions as well as emotions which threaten to overtake her. Her nod is followed by, "I...suppose...I should ask for you to tell me about yourselves..."

Rick Morgan takes the forefront in this case...for himself that is. He gives a slow nod, and glances back at Twila gain, before starting.

"Well, I was raised in San Angeles. Under my adoptive parents. There isn't much to say about back then really..." he traces his fingertips slowly on the table in front of him. "I did my time as a kid, grew up...I never -knew- I was adopted. Time went on, I...got into some things I shouldn't have..." he glances up at that, deciding that if anything, he's going to be -honest- right now. "...though I smartened up not too long afterwards, and went off to university. Where I was looking for my degree in Robotics..." He sighs then, and takes a slow breath. Now comes the hard part. "It's...there that I ran into my first problems. Suffice it to say that a project came under attack by the Robot Masters...and I got caught up in it in the process. That's...why I am as I am right now..." he gestures downwards, to his lower extremity, which are of course hidden under the table right now. Of course he's by no means done outlining his background, but he pauses now, to allow Twila to intercede.

Lauren blinks slowly, indicating that Rick need not expand on his present physical state if he does not wish too. There's a glance towards the table as, among other things, she feels embarrassed and ashamed for staring at her son the way she had. What kind of mother would look on her son any less for something that was not of his doing? These feelings only serve to convince her she may not have made such a good mother after all. Still, she does perk an eyebrow regarding what it is he meant of what he "shouldn't have gotten into" and prays it stayed well enough away from what she was involved within during her younger years.

Sitting next to her twin within such close proximity, Twila picks up Rick's present state rather acutely. She mentally struggles on what to say or what to add to what she knows of his history. Not...finding anything at first, she applies gentle pressure to his arm. "While...he was within San Angeles...I was adopted by the Petersons and grew up within Sewerd, Nebraska. Dad was an English professor at the small Christian college there. I lived there until I was about 14." Her voice trails off then as she ponders what had happened not long after the family moved from the small town, and allows Rick to pick up his own story again.

Rick Morgan twiddles his thumbs slowly then, as if pondering how to continue. "Let's just say that afterwards, with the medical bills, I didn't have the cash to continue going in University...I fell short of the payments and wasn't able to get my degree." he sighs, and gives a small shrug. "I wandered for a bit...was really too ashamed and stubborn to go back home. That's when other circumstances led me to finding employment where I am now. I....know you saw the symbol I wore last night..." He fishes in his pocket slowly, and removes the bandanna, setting it on the table for both Lauren and Howard to see, to inspect if they so wish. He has no idea if Lauren told the Pastor about where he 'works', or if she had assumed that as well, or that the symbol was merely a supportive measure for the faction themselves. Now he leaves no doubt about it. "So that's where I've ended up. For the first time I actually found a place where I really -do- belong..." He shrugs. "..and, with the way the world has been, it kinda helps knowing you're doing something to make a difference..."

The response the Pastor gives is a steady glance towards the bandanna as well as the symbol of allegiance it bears. "You're a Maverick Hunter then," he verbalizes, turning his gaze towards the two younger people. He makes no judgments on the two and, if he holds any opinions one way or the other...he maintains silence on the issue.

Lauren reaches out for the cloth, something not all that hard considering the table is small and certainly nothing ornate. She studies the emblem and traces it with her fingers, not choosing to reveal what it is she's thinking. The bandanna is lowered towards the table once more and offered back towards her son. "And, you Twila...are you also involved with the Maverick Hunters?"

The girl shifts within her seat, nodding in answer. "Yes, I am."

Lauren's soften, almost fearing her daughter faced some sort of tragedy as her other child. "You stated you lived in Sewerd until you were 14," she prods gently.

Twila exchanges glances with Rick before starting. "My father...he held certain views about how and why society was threatened by certain advances which were made. So..he moved us to a settlement so we could segregate ourselves. Sometime later the...Mavericks found us and not many survived." There's a pause. "I then lived with relatives until I was old enough to be on my own. Obtained a B.A. Degree within Journalism. When I moved to New York...I started experiencing some attention from Robot Masters. Through a series of events...I was invited to stay with the Hunters. Eventually, I joined staff there and now...work as an assistant medic. Rick's...been one of my instructors for the past few months."

Rick Morgan nods at that. "You'd almost think it was a twist of fate that brought us to each other..." he muses, and then shrugs slowly. Fingers curl around the bandanna and slowly draw it closer again, as he lifts his gaze to the others. "I don't think I have to tell you that were we are tends to be a dangerous job..." he offers, and glances towards Twila again. "Though let's say that we found out about each other when something from my own past came back on me again. I uh..." he pauses, lowering his gaze to the tabletop. "I needed a transfusion, and it was Twila who was found to have my bloodtype. After that, it was only a matter of time that they suddenly discovered the likeness between us. And that we were actually twins..." he gives a shrug. "And I guess as you say, the rest was history....as I said on the phone last night, from there we did our own digging, that eventually led us to you."

"So...I see..." the woman nods, taking this all in. A glance is directed towards her Pastor who, ironically, had been counseling her regarding the possibility these two were really her children, and how God often acts through means in which we have no understanding.

Pastor Mark Howard simply offers a kind smile towards his parishioner, also recalling the conversation. "Perhaps not a twist of fate..." the minister muses, before falling back on observing.

Twila loosens the hold she has on her brother, feeling encouraged, although more like relieved, that neither their birth mother, nor the Pastor gave negative feedback regarding either of their testimoneies. "Was...a bit of a shock to us too..." she muses.

Lauren tilts her head, musing on this. "That...I can...sympathize with, Twila," she says after releasing a breath. "I'm terribly sorry for what both of you had to go through in order for you to discover one another. But, it was always my life-long prayer that if you were separated...you somehow would..." Her eyes sorrowfully settle on Twila for a bit longer, saddened to hear of the death of those who had taken her in, and then she turns back towards Rick. "How...did your parents accept you learning of this?"

Rick Morgan keeps his hands folded together, though he tilts his gaze downwards at that. "They didn't..." he says quietly. "Although I suppose it was a combination of things really. My adoptive father especially was of the mind that messing with the human body in any way was messing up what nature made." He shrugs slowly then. "I can see his reasoning, but I kinda like being able to walk...." Thus is offered his view that no matter what anyone may say...he still -doesn't- regret his decision to get the artificial limbs added. "On top of it...he never liked my line of work." he adds. "He always had 'higher expectations'. I guess you can figure what happens when a couple of heads start butting one another in that case...." He sighs then, and shakes his head slowly. Not wanting to sound like he's prattling on.

Twila brushes the back of her hand against Rick's upper arm before she eventually draws it back to rest within her lap.

The older woman's mouth goes dry, sympathizing with Rick more than she's willing to comment at this time. However, she does acknowledge she understands fully. "Yes...I can figure," she muses, more to herself than to her guests. There's an intermittent silence before her gaze is picked up once more. "I've asked of you and I thank you being open and honest. I have...always wondered." Her lips press themselves together. Although almost fearing what they may ask or want to know, it's only fair that she return their generosity. "I'm certain there are many questions you...both have yourselves. I'll...do my best to answer them."

Rick Morgan nods slowly again. "Well...we know from the research right now...about your past. So...we don't want to bring up...bad memories or anything." he offers with a gentle motion of his hands. "I think...the biggest thing we want to know is...what happened. After..." he sighs, and lowers his gaze. "...after we got separated."

Noticably, Twila allows Rick to do most of the talking right now while she sits to the side, offering her support as he needs it. Almost as if the two were complimenting one another...or two of the same whole in a way.

Hemmings turns her gaze towards a framed photograph resting up on a mantel as vision briefly clouds. Peering more closely one can see it's a picture of a young man within his early twenties, maybe several years older than the twins. He stands several inches below five feet, is fair skinned, blond, and looks to be into some sort of sports. If anyone were to guess this was Steven Mattis, they would be correct. "It was...had been a few hours until I was told that you were both gone. I...had no proof but...I had an idea who had done it." She bites her lower lip and visibly shivers before regaining control. "I...was into some things I should never have been involved in, that I now heavily regret. When...I realized I was carrying I was scared. And...early on...I very nearly chose to abort." The admission silences her for a rather long time before she's able to speak again. "But I couldn't bring myself. The next thought was...maybe use this to...support some of...my habits." Years of bearing the shame, guilt, and remorse of ever thinking in such a way begin to show themselves upon her features, making her appear far older than she actually is. Her voice trembles as she reminisces. "But, after I was shown the ultra-sound...and saw my baby boy jumping and my baby girl sucking her thumb...I---I just couldn't. Neither of you were something that could be just tossed away or sold like some item as a discount store. All...either of you ever wanted was to be born and allowed to live. I---." It's then that her words are choked by sobs as the walls break. "I'm so sorry. Can you ever...forgive me?"

Twila Peterson is already halfway out of her seat by the time the plea is made, and begins approaching the older woman as one would a frightened dear.

Rick Morgan blinks, and straightens up at the same time, eyes wide, his lower jaw set. Emotions run through him at the same time...at the thought of being aborted...the thought of supporting a habit. But no...those were thoughts...in the end Lauren -still- did the right thing, she chose the right path in the end...even if it did suddenly end in tragedy itself. Almost mirroring Twila's own motion...he slowly slides out of his seat, moving around the edge and casting a glance to the Pastor, before slowly kneeling next to Lauren's own chair. He doesn't make contact with her right now, instead hovering very close, as he closes his eyes. "We all have things we aren't proud of in our pasts...." he whispers. "Some moreso than others....." he sighs then, and glances back up, studying her features closely. "But it's not so much the mistakes you've made that you concentrate on....instead about the here and now, and how the past can be made right again. Even when it isn't your fault..." Now, hesitantly, -very- hesitantly...he slowly reaches forward, to touch his fingers to her arm.

Twila stands beside her brother, maybe gaining more of an insight of what the woman is asking of both of them. At about the same time Rick reaches out to her, Twila does the same...slowly as well as carefully. "We're not here to condemn you for your past, Ms. Hemmings," she shakenly manages with some emotion of her own. "Whatever it was you done or thought...we forgive you And I know I speak for Rick as well. If...Christ has forgiven you, and we forgive you...please, forgive yourself..."

The touch from both her children helps calm the woman, and her sobs quiet upon the contact. Yes, she allows it. However, by her body language she non-verbally informs the two that, for the moment, she wouldn't welcome anything further than this. "Thank you, both," she tones in response after allowing herself to shed a few more tears. "I wasn't certain...if I could have hoped" for as much...from either of you. I almost thought..." Her words trail off again as she seeks to once more compose herself to see about picking up her previous train of thought.

To the side, Pastor Howard remains...merely watching. However, from his features, he conveys that he approves of the actions as well as the words of both twins.

Rick Morgan shakes his head, and slowly retrieves his hand again, deciding to stay as he is for the moment, kneeling next to the table, his arms resting on it's surface. "-We- were afraid we weren't wanted...." he returns gently. "...at first, we'd thought we'd been sold off...that was what we had figured at first." He sighs, and lowers his gaze again. "But...after alot of digging, that's when we discovered the truth. I....I'm glad we did. And I'm glad we learned the truth from you as well...that, it wasn't by choice. That...I think that's the biggest part of it...for the moment for us."

Twila Peterson rests her free hand on her brother's shoulder as well while keeping her other where it is. "And, now Rick speaks for both of us," she offers gently, while sparing her him a warm gaze. Focus is shifted back to their mother soon after.

"I assure you, both of you were, loved and wanted, very much so," Lauren says, calm enough to do so. "If...you I would have been unable to raise you...I would have chosen a family myself to provide you with a life I couldn't have otherwise offered. And I would have made certain you grew up as brother and sister as you always should have." Her gaze is lifted towards the ceiling before she goes on. "One of the girls...that worked the same streets I did...she knew of my pregnancy and of my ultimate decision to do what I could to keep you. I knew she had been in contact with the so-called 'agency' I had originally worked with and then turned down. I have no proof of course, but I can't help but suspect she was the one who finalized things. She was...too desperate." Her gaze reshifts to fall on the photo again before she lifts herself from her own seat in order to retrieve it, and hands it to Twila first. The girl studies it for a few long moments, eyes clouding once more, and then carefully hands it to Rick. "That's...you're real father. Steven...was one of my customers. It wasn't until after all this happened that I found out his feelings were...true enough. He was supportive, helped me to leave the streets. We were even engaged at one time. But...it didn't work out and we remained friends." She drops her hands to her sides and sighs. "However, he kept in contact and helped me in whatever way he could. He...found is way here and into 1st Community, and prompted me to come as well. I kept what happened from most everyone else a long time but, here is where I started the healing process." She offers the Pastor a brief nod. "He's aware of all of this...which is one of the other reasons why I had asked him here."

Rick Morgan straightens, and turns his gaze to follow after Lauren and listen to her words. As the picture is handed to him, he takes hold of it, and brings it up to where he can gaze on it fully. Almost...thoughtfully, his finger reaches out, to slowly trace the image's outline, as if trying to get some last hold on his own past. Finally, with a sigh, he lowers the picture again and sets it aside, bringing his glance back to Lauren once more. It's now...especially now, that it begins to boil up inside somewhere, and his features actually scrunch into that which reflects the anguish deep inside. "This...." he starts, choking something back, before squeezing his eyes shut, and tilting his head forward. "I just...sorry..." he finally manages. "I guess I just....I wish we'd had a chance...to at least live...a somewhat normal life. All of us...seeing this..." he gestures to the picture. "..and seeing you...-talking- to you now...hearing you...it...." with that, he finally takes a long, shuddering breath...unable to really go on.

A tear is already streaming down Twila's features as she regards her sibling. The hold on his shoulder tightens considerably as if pondering her own verbal response, but finding none. The twins really do work within good sync. However, despite what she's feeling, she well knows Rick must be taking this all the more harder...considering what was done to him recently by his adoptive parents. But there's little she can offer but her love and support.

Lauren regards her two children, wishing with all her heart she could have fulfilled their wishes and be the mother they had wanted and needed her to be. But, such did not happen. However, as Rick stated just moments ago, they have to deal with the hear and now. "I'm sorry too..." she croaks as she hugs them both tightly to herself. As she leans downward she draws Twila down within the embrace in which Rick is included. "Both of you...are an answer to a prayer whether you relaize it or not. And I praise God for that..."

Rick Morgan lets loose with a small sob, raising his arms gently at the same time, his face buried into the crook of Lauren's own shoulder. Every last bit of emotion is unleashed, as he relishes the very feel of the embrace...and having Twila close. "I'm sorry..." he whispers in a muffled voice...though for what he's apologizing, it's not quite clear. "I'm sorry..." he repeats again. "We...it's not too late...we can always make up....for what's been missed..." Taking a deep breath...he slowly raises his head again, glancing back at Lauren fully now, as if seeing her for the very first time.....in a new light.

Although it may go unnoticed by the three, a small sigh escapes from the Pastor's lips. But other than this, and a slight slumping of his shoulders, he...doesn't speak or indicate anything amiss.

A flicker of utter sadness flickers across Lauren's bluish eyes as she regards Rick as he makes his statement. However, it lasts for only a fleeting moment before it is gone again and forced back. She dare not ruin the time with such thoughts. So...she squeezes her children, her flesh and blood, close to her again avoiding Rick's gaze, wishing that it could be so with all her heart, but knows inside it's not meant to be. "Thank you both for coming. I can't begin to explain how much it's meant to me."

Rick Morgan smiles faintly, unable to resist looking over Lauren's features fully, before he finally raises the back of his hand to rub at his eyes. "This...I can't even say what this means to me...." he murmurs. "After...all that's been turning upside down, I finally get the feeling I'm getting -something- sorted out again..."

Twila Peterson was blessed with a loving family during her growing up years. She never experienced the hurt and heartache the other two apparently were forced to confront when so young. But she does understand the need to belong, the need to be loved, and the need to be accepted all too well. After gazing back again towards Lauren with a tiny smile of her own she rests her head on her brother's shoulder, feeling privileged to be still caught up within the embrace by the other two.

Lauren traces a path of one of Rick's tears with her thumb and gently wipes it away. "And...I have a feeling you speak for your sister regarding that too..." she responds with a soft smile. She offers the girl a glance and brushes the reddish locks of her hair through her fingers. "I...used to wear my hair almost like that when I was your age..." she muses idly.

Rick Morgan laughs softly, the nervousness gone now, and giving way to a wee bit of giddiness at that, and he switches his attention to Twila more fully now. "You look like mirror images of each other in a way too..." he offers, breaking into a small smile then, and reaching out to touch Twila's hair at the same time. "Like mother like daughter, huh?"

Twila Peterson emits a tiny giggle as she picks up her head. "She's taller..." she can't help but quip as she feels them both toying with her locks. She then looks back towards their mother suddenly asking, "So, which one of us was born first? Who's the oldest?"

Lauren smiles as well, not caring if all three of them are sitting on the dining room floor or not while the Pastor watches near by, watching the touching scene. "Rick is, Twila," comes the response before she playfully messes with the cyborg's hair. "But just keep in mind, Rick, it's only by 1 minute and 10 seconds."

Rick Morgan suddenly grins ear to ear. "Ha! I knew it!" he exclaims, picking up his head and flashing a gaze of mock-triumph to his sister. "See? The guess was right all along wasn't it?" A quick snicker is loosed from him, as he finally sighs, and his shoulders seem to just plain droop in a relaxed state...as if the weight of the world was just removed.

Twila...just sticks a tongue out at him, regardless of how childish it is, "Only by a little more than a minute," she pouts in jest.

The older woman smiles broadly, behave you two, Never had a chance to place you over my knee..." she chides. She glances them over for what seems to be the umpteenth time that night, stating, "And to think...you're names were supposed to be Tabitha Michael and Thomas Paul."

Rick Morgan hrms at that, raising a hand to his face and thinking that over. "Thomas Paul...Tom? Tommy?" he muses, a really silly grin coming on his features, and then he points at Twila. "Tabby!"

OK, that deserved a slight elbow in the ribs from Twila. "Oh, hush, you!"

From the table the fourth guest rises from his seat, smiling broadly as well, enjoying the sight which greets him. "If you three will excuse me...I think it's best if I leave you to catch up." He holds his hand as if to prevent anyone from feeling the need to get and then offers it to shake hands with the three. "It was a please to finally meet you Mr. Morgan...Ms. Peterson," he states sincerely before turning towards Hemmings. "I'll see you on Sunday, Lauern." He again smiles on the three and lets himself out of the small apartment. As stated, he allows the three privacy.

<Several hours pass...>

Rick Morgan chuckles at the mentioning of something or other, before leaning back in his seat, and shaking his head slowly. Hands remain sitting on the table, as he finally heaves a sigh. Through some bit of extra sense, he happens to glance up towards the clock, and nearly bugs out as he notices the 'wee hours of the morning' time. "Whoa..." he suddenly pipes up. "Uh...how time flies, huh?"

His gaze is certainly followed and...met with a "Well, told Rock humans didn't have built in alarm clocks," from Twila as she tells their host. "We...didn't mean to...keep you up so late..." she offers sheepishly.

"Twila," Lauren assures with a shake of the head, "I've...waited for this moment for over 20 years. I'm certainly not going to give any qualms regarding the fact this went well past midnight." However, the woman does appear physically and emotionally worn from all of this. "But...it is getting rather late. But...it is getting to be a rather late hour...at least in this timezone." She imagines it's just now reaching early evening by their reckoning.

Rick Morgan smiles, and offers. "Hey...we still got lots of catching up to do as is...moreso than even -this- visit can cover." he speaks. Slowly he -does- slide his chair back though, pulling up his jacket where he'd draped it. "But right now...I think we got people back in Neo-Tokyo that are gonna be waiting for us anyway. We -were- here a bit longer than we intended..." he then pauses, as if remembering something, and proceeds to pull out a small slip of paper. "Oh yeah...here. It's...the number to my video terminal at Hunter Hq..."

Twila Peterson slides out a peace of paper which holds the information and the ways in which she can be contacted as well since Rick had unintentionally, or maybe intentionally reminded her. "Yeah...here's mine too," she offers and then proceeds to snake her arms through the sleeves of her jacket.

Lauren accepts both papers and quickly scans the information upon them. "I'll certainly make use of it. You...already have mine. Or...most..." Taking a scrap piece of paper she hands it towards Rick. "And...that's my messaging if either you or Twila want to make use of it." That said she remains sitting briefly and them slowly stands. "Get back home safely...alright?"

Rick Morgan smiles genuinely, bringing his hands up and hooking them on his jacket pockets for the moment. This is of course after he takes the piece of paper and stuffs it away. "We will..." he reassures, his smile brightening even more. "Especially now...I feel alot better."

Twila Peterson takes the time to loving pat her brother's arm. "Me too. Thanks...for everything. For our life and for wanting to get to know us.

The older woman nods knowingly and rises to her feet as well. A step or two brings her into the living room and closer to the door. She gazes at the two with love and compassion, gently smiling. "No, thank you. Rick, Twila...both of you keep in touch."

Rick Morgan follows slowly, coming to a stop just at the living room as well, turning to face Lauren fully. "I will....I promise." he smiles then, and can't help it. Especially now....leaning forward to give a gentle embrace. "In fact now that we got a hold of you, I don't think you're gonna be able to get rid of us..." he teases gently.

Hemmings fully embraces Rick for a lengthy amount of time as if not wanting to let go. "I'll hold you to that," she whispers before gently kissing his crown. She loosens her hold and grasps Twila just as firmly. "And you, we're just going to have to get you talking a bit more," she jibes, just before she also receives a kiss. Twila is eventually let go as well before she pauses to gaze upon the two adults for the longest time before her hand waves over the sensor and the door opens, revealing the hallway. "Remember that both of you were always loved, even if I wasn't there as I should have been."

Twila emits a sniffle as she pulls back. "We know....um..." What should they call her anyway? Calling her "Mom" doesn't feel right.

The awkwardness and the cause is picked up right away. "Call me Lauren."

Rick Morgan steps out into the hallway first, turning back to face in fully, a small smile on his features. He nods slowly at that, "I know...I think we both know..." he says gently, casting a soft gaze in Twila's direction. "We'll definitely keep in touch...I'll call you before too long." he breaks into a wider smile then. "I promise that too. Seems like I'm making an awful lot of those today."

Twila Peterson smiles as she steps outside along with her brother. "Seems we both are," she muses, while casting a glance behind her. "Good night, Lauren."

Lauren is warmed by the kind words of her offspring more than words can say. "Good night to you as well, Tommy...Tabby..." she bids with a michivious twinkle within her eye, one that is often found within a certain other redhead. The door then closes, leaving the two alone within the hallway.

Strangely enough, the same old man with the cane that the two young people had come across while they first entered the building hobbles on by. His cane makes the stereotypical *clack* against the floor as he passes. He pauses to regard the two, and then squints his eyes towards Rick. His gaze pans down to the cyborg's legs. With an unexpected motion he taps the metal casing with the cane and hmmmms to himself. "Least you have a better warranty than I've got..." After stating this, he continues on down the hallway, not bothering to wait for any sort of response.

Rick Morgan blinkblinks at the cane tapping, and slowly glances down. It takes him a few seconds to register, as he turns his head to watch the old man. "Eh, but..." he starts, raising a finger, and then holds it there. "...ah, to heck with it." he then mutters, smirking faintly. Wouldn't be the first time.

Twila Peterson snickers off to the side and takes hold of her brothers arm. "Well...you do have a better warranty," she states, grinning impishly. "C'me on before Rock puts out one of those immediate searches for us."

<After returning home...>

Rooftop Runway <Hunter HQ

Rick Morgan guides the hoverbike into the huge hangar bay of Hunter HQ, sighing to himself as tiredness -is- starting to slowly creep up on him. But if anything, he's in an incredibly cheerful mood...and why shouldn't he be?

Expertly, he guides the hoverbike to its parking spot, before powering down the engines, and slowly leaning to the side, enough to slide off of the mount and to the floor below. *CLANK* "Oof...I think I been up too long..."

Twila Peterson isn't able to prevent Rick's fall in time, much to her dismay...and actually ends off sliding with him within the effort to *keep* him from falling. As a result, she falls right on his stomach before rolling over onto the pavement. "What...ever gave you *that* idea?"

Rick Morgan oofs again at the sudden fall, and slowly rubs his stomach as such. Though he slowly gets up, and stands up fully, as he smiles to Twila, kneeling down to hook his hands under her arms and gently help her up. "Apprehension and stuff. When I said I slept last night it consisted of a 30 minute nap..."

Twila releases a small groan. "Even I managed to get in about 4 hours somewhere...I think." She then regains her balance turns back towards Rick. "So, since you're about to collapse, it's my duty as your sister to see that you get back to your quarters, to your bed, for a good night's sleep." She adds a mock-order of, "Move it, Mister."

Rick Morgan stumbles as such, but remains upright as he's prodded along. "Yes'm...." he mutters, flashing a small smile in the process.

Twila Peterson gets herself behind Rick, gently prodding him along as he tiredly makes his way indoors. "And don't slouch..."

Rick Morgan continues moving along, as he's prodded by his sister into the command center. "Sheesh..." he mutters, flashing a mock-glare over his shoulder. "Since when did this place turn into Repliforce?" he teases. "And when did General turn into a female?"

Michael Eildath is still here. (Boring, eh?) He's listening to Beethoven now, however. Hearing voices, he turns. "Oh... hello." He blinks, and rolls his eyes.

"Repliforce? Hmph!" Twila a grunts. When Mike greets the two she accidentally runs right into Rick's back as a result.

*whump*

"Ow..." the girl mumbles...rubbing her nose as she pulls away, slightly embarrassed. "Hi, Mike. Um...we're back. And...partially awake."

Rick Morgan blinks as he feels Twila run right into him, and is of course jerked forward in the process. "Oof!" he mutters, before straightening and glancing back. "Uh...yeah. Hi, Mike...I think we better cut this short too. I don't think I'm the only one who's tired here..." he flashes a small smile, and hooks his arm around Twila's shoulders. "C'mon you..."

Michael Eildath shakes his head at the antics of the pair. "Jeez, guys... get some sleep. You're giving me a case of terminal sibling cuteness here." He reaches for the controls on the music and turns it down, pausing, as though he were about to add something. He doesn't, however, and just remains silent.

"Er...yeah..." she mumbles in response. She playfully erks as she's snagged by the cyborg and makes as if she's choking for the first few seconds before resuming a lopsided grin. "Ok...ok...I'm coming already." She chuckles abit towards the other Hunter before sounding off a, "G'night," as the two continue towards the lift.

Rick Morgan gives a quick wave at the same time. "Night Mike..." he offers, continuing to move with Twila into the lift and beyond.

<And...>

Rick's Pad <RP>
Better than it used to be, Rick's room has undergone a serious re-cleaning effort, though it still retains the qualities of a single male living in here. The far wall is covered in various charts and sketches, all of varying pieces of machinery in different states of repair, or cutaway views. Rick's bed, (which is generally unmade) sits tucked in the corner of the room, nothing special. On yet another wall, there's what appears to be a desk, with a terminal set up on top of it, which is constantly glowing as it's hooked up to who knows what type of information providing service. Finally, next to the door, there's a set of shelves upon which are set countless models, almost all of them being of different models of Ride Armor, or in different varying states of repair. Of course the largest model on the shelf is the replica of his real life project that he's sunk so much care into. The Kodiak.

With a swish, Rick's door opens to admit him, as he moves on inside, and proceeds to lean up against the wall with an audible *THUMP* of his shoulders. "Eh...that's the worst part..." he mumbles. "..you can't sleep cause of excitement beforehand...then when it's all over and done with you can barely stand on your own two feet."

Twila Peterson chuckles, looking a tad tired now herself. She heads over to his bed and tosses open the covers before heading back towards the wall, offering to help Rick take his final steps before he can rest on the mattress. "I know what you mean. But...it was worth it..." She pauses within her attempt and embraces Rick lovingly. "Hey, you get a good night's sleep you hear?"

Rick Morgan hmmms, and wraps his arms around Twila to hold her close as well, kissing her crown at the same time. "I will....you too, sis. I think we both had a really long day..."

Can't really argue with that. Twila remains silent as she holds him a little while longer and then begins edging him towards the bed, even while still within the embrace. "I...promise. And Rick, love you."

Rick Morgan chuckles gently. "Love you too Twila..." he whispers, before finally drawing back and allowing himself to be edged towards his bed. With an all too grateful motion, he proceeds to flump backwards, and onto the bed itself, slowly rolling over. "Gonna sleep for a week..." he mumbles.

Twila smiles wearily as she pulls up the blankets back over the man before tenderly kissing his cheek. "Won't take you much to get started. Sleep well," she bids. With another kiss, this time to his forehead, the girl starts moving towards the entrance. As the door opens, allowing in light from the corridor, she turns off the lights of the room. "Pleasant dreams, Rick."

Rick Morgan mmms quietly, already shifting down well into the covers of his bed. "Mmmyeah...you too,Twila..." he mumbles back. "See you...in the morni..." he's cut off by a rather large yawn, and trails off into silence then afterwards...his breathing growing more and more regular.