The X-men run missions and work together with the NYPD, striving to maintain a peaceful balance between humans and mutants. When it comes to a fight, they won't back down from protecting those who need their help.
Haven presents itself as a humanitarian organization for activists, leaders, and high society, yet mutants are the secret leaders working to protect and serve their kind. Behind the scenes they bring their goals into reality.
From the time when mutants became known to the world, SUPER was founded as a black-ops division of the CIA in an attempt to classify, observe, and learn more about this new and rising threat.
The Syndicate works to help bring mutantkind to the forefront of the world. They work from the shadows, a beacon of hope for mutants, but a bane to mankind. With their guiding hand, humanity will finally find extinction.
Since the existence of mutants was first revealed in the nineties, the world has become a changed place. Whether they're genetic misfits or the next stage in humanity's evolution, there's no denying their growing numbers, especially in hubs like New York City. The NYPD has a division devoted to mutant related crimes. Super-powered vigilantes help to maintain the peace. Those who style themselves as Homo Superior work to tear society apart for rebuilding in their own image.
MRO is an intermediate to advanced writing level original character, original plot X-Men RPG. We've been open and active since October of 2005. You can play as a mutant, human, or Adapted— one of the rare humans who nullify mutant powers by their very existence. Goodies, baddies, and neutrals are all welcome.
Short Term Plots:Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
The Fountain of Youth
A chemical serum has been released that's shaving a few years off of the population. In some cases, found to be temporary, and in others...?
MRO MOVES WITH CURRENT TIME: What month and year it is now in real life, it's the same for MRO, too.
Fuegogrande: "Fuegogrande" player of The Ranger, Ion, Rhia, and Null
Neopolitan: "Aly" player of Rebecca Grey, Stephanie Graves, Marisol Cervantes, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, Sabine Sang, Eupraxia
Ongoing Plots
Magic and Mystics
After the events of the 2020 Harvest Moon and the following Winter Solstice, magic has started manifesting in the MROvere! With the efforts of the Welldrinker Cult, people are being converted into Mystics, a species of people genetically disposed to be great conduits for magical energy.
The Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
Adapteds
What if the human race began to adapt to the mutant threat? What if the human race changed ever so subtly... without the x-gene.
Atlanteans
The lost city of Atlantis has been found! Refugees from this undersea mutant dystopia have started to filter in to New York as citizens and businessfolk. You may make one as a player character of run into one on the street.
Got a plot in mind?
MRO plots are player-created the Mods facilitate and organize the big ones, but we get the ideas from you. Do you have a plot in mind, and want to know whether it needs Mod approval? Check out our plot guidelines.
The weather today was rather odd, during one minute it was sunny and warm, while the next it was windy and with a slight drizzle. This didn't keep Audrey from being out and about though, nothing could keep her trapped inside her small and crowded apartment. No matter how bad the Weather today, there was always an unexplainable beauty to Central Park, which was exactly where the 19 year-old Shapeshifter was having her long walk. For ten minutes now, the sky had been stable, the sun was blazing on her skin, and there was only the smallest of breezes. It was kind of like the Calm before a Storm, because honestly, she knew it was coming.
With her dark hair in a messy bun on top of her head, a pair of short black jogging shorts and a pink tank top, Audrey walked at a brisk pace towards the eastern side of the Park, where a few kids had put up a small lemonade stand for the day. Audrey liked kids, her niece was only six years-old and a big part of Audrey's heart. "Well hello." she smiled at the kids, who looked from her to the pot of money they had on the box they used for a table. "Do you want Lemonade lady? the youngest of the two boys asked politely.
"Of course! How much?" the boys pointed at a sign painted on the front of the box, and Audrey laughed a little, giving them the money for a glass. Honestly, the drink didn't taste half bad! Though, she could get lemonade so much better then this one just down the street if she wanted to. "Thanks boys, have a good day!" she added after waving, leaving the two to argue over how they would split the cash afterward. Typical boys, always fussing over the stupidest things!
Sighing, Audrey closed her eyes, walking alongside a pathway that would lead to a bench, her drink in one hand and her IPod in the other, which was currently playing a song by one of her favorite artists Kanye West. When she opened her eyes again only seconds later, she realized someone was walking her way, and it was too late to dodge. She bumped straight into him, her lemonade crashing to the ground. Not before it splashed the two of them though. "Oh ma, I'm so sorry!" she said to the young man before her, frightened for his reaction.
...His shirts seemed to be ill-fated, in recent months. One had become spotted in another's blood; one had been blown up in a most literal sense; one had become quite familiar with his own blood.
This one--a simple blue button-down that had done the world no harm--was becoming acquainted with the contents of a plastic cup. Lemonade, if the citric and sugar smell was any guide, and if the small stand just down the block was not blatantly obvious.
Slate stared down at his shirt. The spreading wetness. At least it would not stain, this time. Probably.
>> "Oh ma, I'm so sorry!"
"That's quite all right," the nineteen year old said, his eyes still on his shirt. "I fear I was not watching where I was going any better." He had, in fact, been reviewing a press release. It was a task better done in the board room, but--as was becoming annoyingly common--his employees had advised that he could use some 'fresh air'.
The press release was in somewhat worse shape than his shirt.
Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes upwards, and looked at the young woman who had victimized his shirt. She was about his own height and age; significantly darker skin than him, even with his Colombian tan. It complimented her hair, bringing greater depth to the black. Her own shirt seemed to have suffered a similarly unfortunate fate. He felt immediate sympathy for it. Again, his gaze came up.
"Shall we procure some napkins?" Slate suggested, his blue eyes flicking to a nearby hot dog vendor. Dripping ketchup bottles and open pickle tubs sat hazardously on the counter near the napkin dispenser; every thread in his clothing warned him against going near. None the less, their shirts were not particularly drying themselves.
The man before her was rather good-looking to say the least. He had brown hair and beautiful blue eyes that Audrey could just melt into... Oh right, his shirt. It was odd how everyone took the blame for things she'd done, both accidentally and purposfully. Sometimes in her rocky past, she'd done things on purpose, framing other people for the terrible actions. No worries though, the worse thing she'd ever done was shoplift a car... With a bunch of friends. No big deal, right?
It wasn't as if she was a cold-blooded murderer or anything. To be honest, the sight of blood spooked her out, and with the things she could do, blood was something she saw whenever she shapeshifted... That as one of the reasons she didn't do it on a daily basis. Back to the car though, if anyone wants to know, she'd given it back! After.... Aftert she and her friends had pretty much wrecked it. Oh well, those had been good times.
"I'm sorry." she repeated, ignoring him as he tried to tell her how he hadn't paid much attention too. Her gaze lowered from his face to his stained shirt, then to her own. Man, this was going to be tough to wash out. She glanced back at him in time so that the two locked eyes on each other for a quick second. She grinned shyly, feeling her cheeks getting hotter.
"Shall we procure some napkins?"
Oh well, she was able to read him a little, and to her relief, he didn't seem to be hiding any anger. She wouldn't have to change her appearance whenever she sees him, that was very good to know. "Sure, napkins would do us well." she laughed, fallowing his gaze toward the Hot Dog stand nearby. Ew, Hot dogs. For the lower-class lifestyle she'd lived in throughout her life, it was weird how Audrey had never liked Hot Dogs.
"Oh, I'm Audrey by the way. Audrey Walker." she introduced herself after realizing they hadn't done the typical introductions yet. What a great way to meet a potential friend, spilling lemonade all over him.
This was accompanied by a strange thing: a grin. It was small, but most definitely present. Perhaps... shy? He was not entirely clear on how this facial expression fit her words, or the situation. Tentatively, he mirrored it: a small smile briefly quirked on his own lips.
>> "Sure, napkins would do us well."
‘As well’? He tilted his head strangely at that wording, but did not question it.
>> "Oh, I'm Audrey by the way. Audrey Walker."
“Slate,” the teenager returned; “Slate Swartz.” If she had been following recent medical news, she might recognize the name—at the beginning of May, Mondragon Labs had made the news for its experimental heart. Its young CEO had, naturally, gotten some press attention as well.
Then again, people their age were not well known as avid newspaper readers.
Slate led the way; with great agility, his fingers dodged the minefield of condiments on the stand and returned, unmarred, with a handful of napkins. He offered half to Miss Walker, and began to pat down his own shirt. It was at that moment that the fitful weather changed again: it began to rain.
The brown-haired teenager stood with napkins in one hand, watching the large drops collect on his shirt. “Ah,” he said. The universe apparently took this as a challenge. The wind gusted up; a second later, half-empty ketchup and mustard bottles, tops oozing from recent use, where blowing their way.
Slate Swartz. Hm, that was an interesting name, Audrey liked it. In fact, she liked a lot of things about this young man, from his good looks to his personality. He was like no other boy her age she'd seen before. Honestly, back in Louisiana, most of the men she hung around with were Crimminals, so it was a change to see someone as polite and well-mannered as he was. He was definitely the type of man her parents would want to to hang with, something she could never say about all her other friends back home.
Oh well, her folks were long dead by now, they couldn't care what she did with her life. They would never know about her Shapeshifting, they would never know how good a dancer she is, or how nice the songs she writes are. They'll never see her in a wedding dress, or meet her future children. They were dead, there was no way they could return.
Slate led the way as the pair of them walked toward the Hot Dog stand. He offered her a few napkins, and Audrey took them without hesitation. "Thank you." she said with another one of her flashy white grins. This time, it was a lot more genuine, with her bubbliness making it even more pretty. "So Slate, what brings you here today?" she asked, rubbing at her shirt, trying to absorb as much of the sweet drink as possible.
"I mean, it isn't the kind of weather I would see people hanging outside in." she looked up at the sky, which was now covered in thick gray clouds. Rain was on it's way, there was no doubt about it. It was only a matter of time, would Audrey be fast enough to take cover before the storm hit?
If her grin was any prettier or bubblier than usual, Slate did not actually see. Slate was, again, looking down at his shirt.
>> "So Slate, what brings you here today?"
As had been happening all day, the rain had come and gone with equal swiftness. Now the sun was returning, though more clouds loomed.
“...The general consensus,” he replied, after a minor delay, “is that I have been spending too much time indoors again. I found myself evicted, with orders not to return until later.” More of a strong suggestion, actually. A very strong one. His employees were certainly in no position to give him orders; the secretarial staff, however, was most certainly in a position to be particularly ruthless at Judo practice this Thursday. He had begun to notice a positive correlation between how many bruises he had to heal afterwards and how well he listened to their ‘strong suggestions’.
>> "I mean, it isn't the kind of weather I would see people hanging outside in."
“Really?” Slate asked, blinking up at the sky. Angry gray clouds mixed with patches of blue sky. The usual Central Park crowds were somewhat thinner than usual; the hot dog vendors looking less bored, and more prone to scratching themselves in public. All signs pointed to Miss Walker being quite right, indeed. He looked back at her, turning slightly. It was at this point that the new ketchup streak on his shirt became quite apparent. She may have escaped the wind’s attack, but his shirt...
...Slate wondered, idly, if there was a god for shirts. If so, had he done something to offend it?
“Why are you out, Miss Walker?” He asked, curiously. His own napkins still rested in his hands, largely forgotten. There was little they could do. No; not for his shirt.
"I have been spending too much time indoors again. I found myself evicted, with orders not to return until later.”
Audrey laughed softly, she wasn,t laughing at him, but because she felt as if she'd been spending a lot of time indoors also. Though to be honest, she didn't have much choice. She'd arrived the the City a week ago, and had therefore been unpacking all of her posessions. "Oh really?" she said, examining her shirt as she tried to form a suitable reply as well as sum up her own reasons for being outside without talking too much. Hm, how should she tell him she was new here and needed a break from unpacking? She wanted to make it sound cooler then it really was...
She wanted to impress him. Odd. She'd never once in her life cared about other people's opinions about her, well, not from strangers anyway.
"Yeah, well it seems as if it could start pouring at any moment. People don't usually like rain..." she explained furthermore, looking at him as he looked upward at the sky. He was really good-looking, there was just something about him that was drawing her in. Maybe it was his inoccence, maybe the way everything he said made her laugh? She did not know, but she had a feeling she was going to see more of him in the next few weeks. It was only a matter of how she should go at it.
His shirt looked funny. The once perfect button down blue shirt was now covered in ketchup and lemonade. All because of her.
"I just moved in the city, so I've been spending some time indoors unpacking too. To be honest, today I just needed fresh air. Do a bit of sight seeing too. New York is such a wonderful place!" she explained when he finally asked her why she was out. She knew he'd ask sooner or later, so she'd prepared her answer a bit so it wouldn't sound corny. Weird how this simple answer to why she was out had to be perfect.
Finally she couldn,t keep from laughing at his shirt any longer. "S...Sorry!" she giggled, "It's just your shirt makes me laugh. I feel really bad for pretty much staining it beyond repair." she giggled again, feeling herself go red with embarassement at her lack of control.
>> "Yeah, well it seems as if it could start pouring at any moment. People don't usually like rain..."
This explanation made a good deal of sense, and fit with his own observations of people. “I believe I like it,” he admitted. He thought about it for a moment, then gave a nod: yes. Yes, he did like it. “It is quite nice. Particularly when the drops are large, and the weather is warm—it’s like a shower, but... freer, somehow.” And rain did not stain shirts. “Do you like the rain?” He asked, baby blue eyes watching her reaction with open curiously. She seemed to laugh more often than the average person; this was intriguing.
>> "I just moved in the city, so I've been spending some time indoors unpacking too. To be honest, today I just needed fresh air. Do a bit of sight seeing too. New York is such a wonderful place!"
“Ah,” he nodded. This was quite understandable. “Where did you move from? I do not recognize your accent. I moved from New Jersey, myself—though I feel like I’ve been here forever.” And, in a sense, he had been. “What have you seen, so far?”
The laughing returned. It was a bright sound; strangely, it reminded him very much of rain. Perhaps it was the way it fell. He liked it.
>> "S...Sorry! It's just your shirt makes me laugh. I feel really bad for pretty much staining it beyond repair."
His poor shirt could not help its state. He plucked at it, somewhat forlornly, before looking back up at Miss Walker. She, also, could not help it. Nor could bleach, nor could extra rinse cycles.
“I think,” he stated, “I should start wearing black. This sort of thing seems to be happening to me rather a lot, recently. This has gone beyond you and I: I suspect some manner of divine intervention.” The ketchup stain gaped up at him. “...Or retribution.”
Audrey nodded when he asked if she liked the rain. His view was great too, but she was a woman, and woman tended to see things with more passion. , "I love the rain. Everything smells so good when it's raining, especially during the Spring. I also like how beautiful everything is when it's streaked with raindrops. A lot of people may find it depressing, but I don't. It's beautiful, very romantic too I might to add." she hadn't really considered how the last bit could render someone a bit uncomfortable.
It was romantic sure, but she hadn't really thought of Slate and how it could make him feel a bit uneasy. Oh well, he'd just have to deal with her artistic and emotional views on thing. Take it or leave it, simple as that.
"Hersey huh?" she smiled, wondering how he couldn't recognize her accent. Oh well, maybe he hadn't traveled a lot. "I'm from Louisiana, I was born and raised there. Never once traveled out of the State apart from now. So, everything is quite new." she explained. "As for what I've seeen... My apartment building, a few stores near my apartment, and Central Park." she grinned at him, a little embarassed at how little she'd actually seen.
"Black?" she questioned, calming down a little. "I don't see you wearing black, colors really bring out your eyes." She paused for a second, "I guess I'm not in any position to tell you what to wear... but take it as advice, colors would look hotter on you then plain black."
>> "I love the rain. Everything smells so good when it's raining, especially during the Spring. I also like how beautiful everything is when it's streaked with raindrops. A lot of people may find it depressing, but I don't. It's beautiful, very romantic too I might to add."
Slate closed his eyes for a moment, and breathed in deeply. The air did smell different—the grass was a more vibrant scent, with a hint of musky gray from the damp trees, and the wet paths. He exhaled slowly, opening his blues eyes again.
“You’re right.” He said, and left it at that. If her dropping of ‘romantic’ was meant as some kind of hint, it only registered briefly as an interesting choice of words.
>> "Hersey huh? I'm from Louisiana, I was born and raised there. Never once traveled out of the State apart from now. So, everything is quite new. As for what I've seeen... My apartment building, a few stores near my apartment, and Central Park."
He returned her grin with a small, easy smile. “Quite understandable, given how long you’ve been here. You picked a good time to come—this time last year, I believe they were still fishing the Statue of Liberty out of the ocean.” This was not a joke: this was a fact. Mutant terrorists had aimed the Lady towards a low orbit, and missed. That had been back during the nationwide Mutant Registration Act. New York’s crackdown on mutants had been somewhat harsher and more thorough than elsewhere in the states, from all accounts. His gaze slipped over to Miss Walkers, briefly, both thoughtful and troubled. What did she think of mutants? Though he had never personally experienced it, there were certainly many tales of humans who were perfectly pleasant—just like this—until the moment they learned what the other party was.
Slate found it somewhat disquieting, to realize that he was the ‘other party’, as far as society was concerned.
>> "Black? I don't see you wearing black, colors really bring out your eyes. I guess I'm not in any position to tell you what to wear... but take it as advice, colors would look hotter on you then plain black."
It was then that Slate blinked. Blinked quite a few times, in fact. His mouth worked for a moment, silently. Something had just occurred to him. Something, perhaps, that would have occurred to other teenage boys somewhat sooner.
Miss Walker was hitting on him.
Perhaps.
...She was, wasn’t she?
The last time a girl had hit on him—and he had ‘hit’ back—he had found himself in an orchestra hall, competing for attention with a man who wasn’t even there. And then there had been a surge of movement, and a most empty, dissatisfying, distant, judging weight against his lips. His first kiss. He had felt dirty, somehow.
Women were oddly dangerous creatures.
He decided to observe this one, in her natural habit: hunting. Him. “Would you like to take a walk?”
The young girl stayed quiet as she watched Slate. His eyes were closed and he seemed deep in his thoughts. She liked it when people really listened to what she had to say. She could tell Slate had done so, because he was examining the smell of the rain right now. He said she was right, which made Audrey grin. "When it comes to the finer details, like the smell of the world after a shower of rain, I'm pretty much always right." she explained, she didn't sound as if she was bragging, nor did she want it to sound that way. She was just teeling it like it was, as if she was talking about the News or something.
"Yeah, well I plan on doing more sight seeing over the next few weeks. I'm starting College this Fall and by then I'm sure I won't have much spare time on my hands. And what's this about the Statue of Liberty?" she was a little curious, trying to figure out if he was just joking with her. AWell, last year had been when the Registration Act thing hadf come in, maybe it had something to do with it? Rebellious Mutants blowing off some steam by pushing the Statue of Liberty in the water?
It was possible, because although Audrey had been low key enough to escape the Government, she had felt very weird, as if she wasn,t free anymore. Those Mutants felt the same way, and since the Statue of Liberty represented Freedom... It made a lot of sense in her head now. Maybe Slate didn't think of it this way, since he probably had no idea about the Act, but who cares, really.
Actually, she did care. She did care what Slate thought of Mutants, being a Mutant and all. Everything seemed so normal right now, but if she let slip her Shapeshifting, would he run off and tell everyone who she truly was: a freak? A Freak of Nature, that's what her siblings called her, though after a few years with her powers, Audrey had grown used to the playful teasing of her siblings. None of them were Mutants though, so they didn't really understand what she was going through.
Grinning, Audrey felt as if she'd done good work. He finally seemed to realize what she was trying to do. Oh well, now that he understood, she didn't have to try anymore. "Sure, a walk would be nice." she grinned, falling into step beside him.
>> "Yeah, well I plan on doing more sight seeing over the next few weeks. I'm starting College this Fall and by then I'm sure I won't have much spare time on my hands. And what's this about the Statue of Liberty?"
Slate blinked, yet again, looking at the young woman at his side. She was around his age, yes. And... starting college. That seemed strange to him, and then not strange; yes, many people their age did go to college. He just could think of no one he knew at the Mansion or Sanctuary who did. He himself had never finished high school; that was not uncommon, among the mutants he knew. College? College could be done, by those without visible mutations. Or by the very resilient. He had certainly studied, but his life had not been conducive to class work, lately. The Registration Act had lost him a year, as he lived with the Resistance at Mondragon Labs; this year, the Colombia trip had quite destroyed his chances at catching up on his Mansion courses.
“That’s wonderful,” he said, meaning it. “Do you know what your major will be?”
“As to the Statue of Liberty...” He shook his head slightly. “A casualty of the Registration Act, as it were. They did their best to keep the press coverage low—it does not bode well for the containment of ‘dangerous mutants’, after all, if mutants who can lift the Lady and toss her with ease are still on the loose.” There was a mild cynicism to his words that, perhaps, a normal human might not have used. And, of course, that ‘They’—‘they’ did such-and-such. ‘They’ could, sometimes, imply an ‘us’. The others.
>> "Sure, a walk would be nice."
Thus had he walked into her net, willingly. It was a strange feeling: knowing he was caught. He led the way down the path, further into the park. The drizzle started up again, but the old trees helped to catch the drops.
“Did you come to New York for college, then?” He asked; it seemed like a suitable question, for ‘small talk’.
Did he seem stunned or something? It surprised her a little, because usually, people their age would surely plan on going to School to get some kind of Degree. She wanted to become a Detective, there was no doubt about that, but Slate... He reminded her of the nerdy type of guy with his rich language, why was he stunned that she was heading off to College? Did she really look that young? She'd been told many times before that she didn,t look like an eighteen year-old woman, but had it been so obvious, that Slate thought she was still only mid-way through her High School years? Or maybe... Maybe he wasn,t stunned at all. Maybe she was reading him wrong.
"Yes, it is. Most of my family didn't attend school after High School graduation so it's very important to me. she explained, sighing. She'd had a rough childhood, living with very little money. "Oh well, on the bright side, I'm Majoring in Law. After College I plan on going to Law School to become a Detective or Private Investigator of some sort." she explained proudly. It was something she always loved, watching loads of Cop shows as a kid, and playing Detective with her siblings.
“As to the Statue of Liberty... A casualty of the Registration Act, as it were. They did their best to keep the press coverage low—it does not bode well for the containment of ‘dangerous mutants’, after all, if mutants who can lift the Lady and toss her with ease are still on the loose.”
Nervously, though she tried her hardest not to show it, Audrey nodded. "Oh I see. So, it's Mutants who did it then?" she asked casually, pretending as if she didn't care all that much. She'd never, ever met another Mutant before but hell, she'd heard a lot about it on the News, especially last year. It was rumored that a lot of the majority of Mutants lived here. It was because of this safe house or something, Audrey did not quite know. Some kind of School maybe.
"Yes, I did." she told him as they walked, avoiding the tiny drops that sometimes fell to the ground. She loved the rain, but getting wet was an entirely different story. She hated ruining her hair and Make-up. She didn't really act like the girly type normally, but she was still a woman who cared about her looks. "I'm not sure whether or not I'll be going back home afterward. To be honest, there aren't as many Job oppurtunities in Louisiana, not like here. But anyhow, I'll be here for a good ten years, since that's pretty much the amount of time I'll be spending in School" Plus, it would be kind of nice to meet Mutants.
>> "Yes, it is. Most of my family didn't attend school after High School graduation so it's very important to me. Oh well, on the bright side, I'm Majoring in Law. After College I plan on going to Law School to become a Detective or Private Investigator of some sort."
Slate nodded, quite approvingly. “That is very good. I believe education is very important—law, in particular. It is very similar to math, at its core; the logic used in both is quite important. Without it, people...” He gave a small shrug. How best to explain illogical people? They were simply... illogical.
“I would like to go to college someday,” he added, simply; “It will probably not be for awhile, though. I recently took over the family business, as it were.” As it were. The ‘family’ being the Kabal’s former leader; the business being Mondragon Labs, and the re-shaping of the world.
>> "Oh I see. So, it's Mutants who did it then?"
He gave a nod, and tried to put her casual tone out of his mind. Reading into it was a silly pursuit; it was a reply to a topic that most people, human and mutant alike, found awkward. Mutant terrorists. They were not generally good at law, or math.
>> "Yes, I did. I'm not sure whether or not I'll be going back home afterward. To be honest, there aren't as many Job oppurtunities in Louisiana, not like here. But anyhow, I'll be here for a good ten years, since that's pretty much the amount of time I'll be spending in School"
Again, a nod. “If you’re aiming for Detective, then you will certainly find many jobs here. Our police department has rather a high—” Ah. ‘Casualty rate’ might not be the most appropriate wording, for ‘small talk’. “—turn-over rate,” he corrected himself, after a slight hesitation.
A by-product of illogical people running amok with powers, unfortunately.
Audrey smiled softly, "I believe it is too. Though to be honest, in High School I didn't think so. Sure, I took AP classes and graduated with Honors, but I could've done a lot better, I didn't give all the effort I could have. I spent a lot of my teenage life on the Streets, doing...things, that weren't always right." she said, realizing she was opening up a lot to a complete stranger. This wasn,t like her. Usually, she'd let the other speak and try to say the minimum, but today she wanted him to know everything about her. Everything... but her Mutation.
“I would like to go to college someday. It will probably not be for awhile, though. I recently took over the family business, as it were.”
"What's the business? If you don't mind me asking that is. as much as she wanted him to know about her, she wanted to know about him too. When he didn,t elaborate on the Mutants, she figured he was just probably afraid of them... Afraid of her. Most normal humans disliked Mutants; maybe he was one of those people? Maybe he was a Mutant Killer, or he could be working for the Governement, kidnapping inoccent Mutants and holding them in cages! She was suddenly a little afraid of what he could be.
She noticed the hesitation, but didn't make anything of it. "Yeah, I know. New York has been a very busy place when it comes to Crimes. That's mainly why I was thinking of maybe sticking around. she explained. "So, how about you? You told me a few minutes ago you'd like to go to College some day... What would you Major in?" See, just a simple question that could tell her a lot more about him.