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.
This whole place was a Maze. In fact, he went outside in search of a pool, and did get lost in the maze for a very long time that was outside. Confused and disoriented, Michael slightly hid behind a table in the hallways, wearing a pair of loose fitting pajama’s. Still too skinny to fill out clothes for his height, so they kept falling off of him. Adjusting his gloves, he let out a sigh of relief.
Michael was not very good at meeting people in certain situations. For instance, at the moment, he was physically hiding from them. Although, hiding behind a small desk of sorts really didn’t help his situation much. Just the fact that there happened to be a desk in the hallway drew a bunch of attention in itself. His brown hair fell over his face a bit, badly needing a good haircut, as he looked down.
A black-gloved hand moved to his chest, and he felt his heart pound. Uh-oh. No way he was supposed to let it beat that fast. The boy bit his lip. Whenever he got too upset, he always always always messed something up. Michael pushed his hand into his pocket, fishing around for a small hand puzzle.
A calmness went over him now, crouched on the ground behind this desk, the striped pajama’s on him slipping over one shoulder for a moment. He fiddled with the metal contraption. There were two pieces, both made of metal, and they were different twisty shapes, so that someone couldn’t take them apart easily. Michael was attempting to separate them just as someone approached.
He did not see the approach of this person, so when a booming voice rang out. “Hey kid, you okay?” He nearly peed his pants. Then he looked up and saw that it was this giant blue man. Abandoning the metal puzzle, he took off down the hall, tripping over the hem of his pajama’s screaming bloody murder, a noticeable wet spot on his clothes.
He panted, and then he felt THAT pressure. The boy slowed, which meant that he tripped and nearly did a summersault, then ripped one of his gloves off. His left hand was made of some weird silvery-substance. He watched, fear still coursing through him as his pinky finger just…popped off. It shaped into a ball of some sort and hovered.
He nearly cursed, but instead focused as hard as he could on trying to make it go away. Instead, it moved a little bit in front of him and touched against a wall. Michael, at this point, just curled up in the fetal position as the little ball exploded with a sound like a gunshot hitting concrete. The wall for ten feet in a clear circle was completely destroyed, and on fire, and the rest of the wall had nasty cracks from the original explosion. And there Michael was, shaking just near it with a few burning pieces of wall plaster on his back. At least he DEFINITELY did not need to go to the bathroom again.
Sam looked at his watch it read: twenty past ten; that was good because it meant that he had at least an hour and a half to himself to relax and surf the internet. He was making his way back from the kitchen where for about the first time he had managed to cook himself an almost completely edible meal. So all in all things were good and he decided that maybe if he continued to manage to no burn anything for a couple of weeks he might actually try and come down to the kitchen at a reasonable meal time, instead of nine thirty.
The teen had finally started to feel comfortable in his new surroundings; he knew his way around the place and had started a few test classes to make sure that he actually liked the subjects he had picked. So far everything seemed ok and he had even somehow managed to survive his first mutation control class, although he had to admit that it had been more than a little strange. But as any teenager will know when you have a date with the latest episode of your favorite series, it takes precedence over any mooning over actual important things.
So as it turned out Sam was wondering what could possibly happen to his favorite character in the Korean soap he was watching, when a sound like a gunshot when off. To say that the illusion mutant had a heart attack seemed a bit like an understatement, it felt more as if his heart had just stopped. But as his eyes focused on the dust slowly falling to the floor just a bit ahead of him, round the next bend, the fear of what he might find there kick started it right up again.
The first thing that went through his head was: what the hell just happened? Then he remembered where he was and the number of possible answers that he could come up with tripled. Whatever it was his survival instinct told him that it was probably best left alone but then again what if someone had been hurt? Fear and disgust at his own coward attitude warred within him. The famous line “to be or not to be” popped into his head but for this occasion it was more along the lines of “to go or not to go”.
With a sigh he decided to pull together what little courage he had and make his way towards the problem area. He walked slowly as if something or someone might leap out and grab him at any moment; which was after all one of the possibilities. As he got to the bend in the corridor he slowly looked round it and saw what had caused all the dust. There was a large hole in the plaster board of one of the walls, bits of it were scattered across the floor. He continued his scan of the scene and after deciding that there was nothing suspicious he stepped out into the small wreckage and almost trod on a whimpering ball that he had failed to notice.
It was probably because the small boy, for he could now tell that it was a small boy, was covered in white plaster board dust and was trying very hard to become part of the wall. On instinct Sam reached out his hand towards the boy but then thought better of it. He was not sure that the youth had heard him arrive and he did not want to scare him further. So instead he took a small step back and crouched down to be about eye level with the ball. A took a small breath and prepared him calmest most reassuring voice.
Okay, he’d caused the breakage. Yes, he made the wall explode. However, Michael was definitely not prepared for the people that might come. Plaster fell from his hair onto his hands as he tried to wriggled away from the approaching footsteps. The boy bit his lip a little bit, hands covering his eyes and mouth. His back had a piece of very hot to the touch plaster on it, and it really hurt, so he shook it off quickly, and it fell to the ground, starting to cool.
He wriggled close to the wall, maybe hoping that there was something fancy at this mansion that meant that if you were scared the walls would just grow arms and hug you. Actually…he probably would have made them blow up too. The boy moved his hand slowly, his left one, to hide it beneath him, and snatched up his glove that was nearby. He slid it onto his left hand, although it seemed one part of his finger was missing, it was better than at least showing off that it was missing.
Then, he curled back up again. The person neared him. Growing closer and closer…until he finally stopped. He’d seen the wreckage! The boy heard him speak and he risked a small, scared little glance outward, towards the voice. He was met with direct eye contact and quickly looked away. For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, Michael’s head seemed to twitch forward a bit, as though saying yes to the person.
He wasn’t ACTUALLY okay. No, he had some scratches and that burn on his back to worry about. However, when someone asked him if he was okay, he tended to say yes, just in case they would want to talk to him more, or poke and prod the places that hurt. It was okay when he put bandages on himself, but other people putting things on his cuts made stinging feelings a lot worse than they felt before, and it wasn’t pleasant to sit still while they were getting “fixed up.”
His little body, obviously still pretty thin, wriggled more into the wall. He really didn’t want it to be seen that he’d wet himself either. It wasn’t something boys his age did anymore. But that big blue guy scared him! It…wasn’t his fault really. He just had to go, and then the blue guy just kind of…well…anyways. He could stay in a ball like this forever. It would work out eventually.
The little boy shot him one panicked glance before returning to his fetal position. Sam frowned, what exactly had happened to this kid? It was clear enough that he had been here when the explosion went off but it was impossible to tell if he had caused it or just been an innocent victim. One thing however that was becoming clearer by the second was that the boy did not want Sam’s help. It was as if Sam was as scary as whatever had caused the accident.
The teen sat back on his heels and took a minute to consider the situation from all angles. He studied the hole in the wall and decided that the damage was superficial and of no real concern right this minute. Right so that really just left the boy. He looked at the small shape in front of him and noticed that it was trying to press itself even further into the wall. There was very little of the boy’s skin exposed, which judging by the slightly singed aspect of the boys shirt was probably a good thing, but Sam thought he could see the tell tale red of blood on the boys cheek.
There was also another thing that the illusion mutant had started to notice as he sat across from the youth and that was the slightly upsetting smell of urine. Sam had never been too good with children and the idea that this boy had wet himself made him grown. However he was the adult of the situation and he couldn’t just leave the kid here in this state. That thought brought back memories of Noel and how she had accused him of not being a human being. Well he wished she could see him now, he would prove her wrong.
There was however still one major obstacle to be overcome and that was the fact that whatever he tried to do, the child just seemed more distressed. And a normal, compassionate person did not just manhandle a small scared kid. So he had 2 options open to him, firstly: find some way to get the child to trust him the way he was, secondly: use his power to look like someone the kid loved and get him to move that way. He sighed again; using his powers in this kind of situation was probably the only thing they would be useful for but he could already hear Granny scolding him if he tried it.
So gaining trust through normal means it was… but how exactly? He did not think that saying “hi I’m Sam, I’m nice I promise” would work. He sat a while longer in silence. There was only one more weapon left in his arsenal and it was something he usually kept to himself. Well it was either that or spending the rest of the night sat next to a silent, urine soaked child. The decision was still not an easy one but finally he fished around in his jacket pocket and produced his ipod and earphones. He selected the instrumental piece he needed and gently moved closer to the child. He carefully placed one of the ear pieces in the boy’s ear and the other in his.
As he pressed play the sound of a guitar started and he let the first few notes drift over him. He had recorded this in London before his mother had decided to send him away and over the last few days he had added lyrics. Readying himself he began to sing. The words were in Korean as he felt more confident that way, not many people spoke it here and it meant that he could express his feelings without anyone knowing what they were. He just hoped that the feeling of the song would be enough to break the boy out of his sulk.
Michael was not one who trusted people right off for many different reasons. Mostly, he didn’t think that people would trust him. The little boy hadn’t had a lot to trust when he’d lived at home, only his leggo’s and his various different televisions shows taught him more about life. A lot of the time teenagers were snarky and such on the real life shows, so he found it a bit hard.
This time was no different. He was just someone coming here because he heard a loud noise. Most likely he’d go away soon, because Michael was just a stupid little kid. Well he was pretty smart, actually, but other people probably just thought that he was really weird. His eyes tightly closed, the boy shifted and slightly looked to the side, just watching this boy’s movements.
He stayed kneeling down for quite some time, and then he seemed to be moving around a little bit. Maybe he was just checking to see what Michael did. His hair was pretty long, and still pretty scraggly, so he could look through it well enough to see this person’s eyes. Nothing was more important to him than someone who tried to be his friend, and was actually nice, didn’t want to harm him or anything. Lifting his head slightly, he noticed that the teenager retreated.
That was enough for him. He’d been left all alone once again. Obviously no one would care about the little brown-haired boy, too skinny to do any real physical activity. Biting his lip more, his head turned into his arms again. He squeezed himself in, holding himself tight so he knew that he would be okay, because he was there to give himself hugs. The little boy felt a few tears fall down his face.
He was scared, he was alone, and he was in a place that he didn’t know about. There were doors that lead to places he didn’t know, and there were rooms that were supposed to be bathrooms, but had more room for lots of people to go at once. Everything was just suddenly there, and it was stressful. He was going to start crying rather hard when the male approached again.
He thought nothing of it, and he just stuck himself to the wall, feeling his pants become really uncomfortable. He took a breath in and tried to calm himself down, wondering how much pants and shirts costed. He didn’t have really any of his own other than this pair that he’d been given, so it was going to be difficult to get more, and he’d most definitely soiled this pair.
A moment of surprise almost startled him up and away, but it was just an ear-bud in his ear. He was slightly nervous of what It was there for, and then he heard music coming from it, and the person was singing. He didn’t know any of the words, and they all sounded different from things that he’d heard before, but he slowly brought his ungloved hand and his gloved hand to the bud. He sat up just a little bit, and though he was still crunched over, he was holding the earbud tight. A quick, quick look to the man revealed that maybe it was okay to trust him, so he sat up fully, and turned to face the male, listening to the music.
What could be seen was a scared little boy, with scratches along his face and his hands, some old bruises, as well as a very wide-eyed, deer-in-headlights expression. He was also slightly shaking, due to holding in a bit more of his power, as well as a lot of fear that he was going to be judged because of the dark spot in his pajama’s. However, he did like the music. It made him a lot more trusting, because it was such could music.
As the last notes of the song died away Sam reopened his eyes, which had closed automatically as he had started to sing. The small boy had uncurled somewhat and was looking at him with eyes wide as saucers. The illusion mutant took a moment to let the silence settle in once more and then smiled at the youth. It was a small smile, just enough to pull up the corners of his mouth, he did not dare anything more mostly because people kept telling him that he smile made him look a bit stupid. He knew it was his slightly crooked front teeth that did it but still it was not something he really liked to hear.
“Feeling a bit better now?”
He asked the question in a small voice and did not move from his spot on the floor. He would let the boy come to him, if he so wished. He felt a bit like he was watching a snail come out of his shell, one tap and it would disappear back inside faster than you could blink. Besides Sam did not have any more songs up his sleeve and plan B was a very bad idea. So he waited a while before speaking again.
“How about we move away from this mess? Is your room on this floor?”
He looked at sam for a moment, just looking him up and down as the music stopped. The person in front of him wasn’t attempting to blame him for the large impacted wall, and he wasn’t asking Michael to do anything special to clean it up either. That was enough to at least get a little bit of trust out there. The little boy bit his lip and looked to the side for a moment. Should he? Should he really be okay with meeting a new person?
It was a new school to him, and he didn’t know where things were, so maybe it would be good to have friends. They could show him things, and maybe this person could lead him back to his room, wherever that might be. Ah! He had a card! From beneath his pajama’s shirt, he pulled out a little necklace, with a card inserted into a slip for it below. It read his name and where his room was. This was probably because the person who brought him here figured that he might get lost at some point, and he’d need to know his way back.
The little boy held up the necklace and kind of wriggled forward so that the teenager could read what was on it. Then, he sat back on his feet again, and spoke.
“I…I got scared by a big guy.” He mumbled it, and didn’t really make eye contact.
For a moment Sam thought the boy was just going to continue staring at his like a deer caught in headlights and frustration began to build within him. Maybe he wasn’t as nice a person as he tried to convince himself and others he was. What if Noel’s scolding’s held more truth to them than he liked to believe… Then just when his thoughts had started to wander the small boy started to move. The illusion mutant sat very still, almost holding his breath so as not to startle the youth.
A small hand pulled out what looked like a name tag from the depth of the boy’s pajamas. Sam couldn’t read it from this distance but the boys seemed to notice this and shuffle slightly closer. Squinting a bit Sam managed to make out the name: Michael Risuque Falling. It was a long name for someone so small and Sam was glad that he had never had that problem. His name was Sam Jung, short and easy to remember even when you’re only about three. Not that this boy was that young but still a double barreled surname seemed a bit burdensome to the half Asian teen. On the card there was also a room number, written in neat hand writing. Sam figured that it was probably someone like the receptionist that had written it, as a precaution for such an event. Room 121, that was on this floor and if he remember correctly not too far from his own room. He was relieved that it would not take long to get the boy back to where he belonged.
“I…I got scared by a big guy. He was blue.”
The small voice matched the small body perfectly and it brought a small smile to Sam’s face. All the teenage girls here would love this kid; he was small cute and slightly pathetic looking, almost like a puppy. All that had to be done first was to get him washed and changed. As for big blue men that was almost the norm here, although Sam had no memory of having met that particular mutant yet. It was clear that the boy was new here and Sam had to admit that the school took some getting used to.
“There are lots of different types of people here, they look a bit different but they are all very nice.”
He tried his best to be reassuring and gave the boy a slightly wider smile. However it was now time to get up off the floor and move away from this mess, he would go and try and find someone to tell after he had seen to Michael. He got to his feet slowly, trying to avoid sticking himself with any loose bits of plaster.
“We can’t sit here all night, so how about I take you back to your room. It’s just down the hall from mine.”
The mentality of a child his age after he’d wet his pants, and caused a rather large accident somewhere, was normally a mix between shame, embarrassment, fear, and sadness. The little boy was no exception to how others his age would react. Though the smell of urine was bad, it was another thing for him to acknowledge it’s existence. By standing up, he would definitely have to, because the dark stain was noticeable. The little brown haired boy looked at the male, as if thinking about what his options were.
There weren’t any other options presenting themselves, so he did decide to get off the floor as Sam did. He did tend to ignore things that weren’t immediately going to affect him, so Sam’s comment about lots people looking different than he thought they should really went over his head. Besides, Michael wasn’t particularly afraid of the blue part of the man, he was definitely more afraid of the fact that the man was just suddenly there, and came from nowhere. Oh…and the fact that he was really really big might have made him antsy. The blue part could have affected it…just a little bit as well.
In any case, he pushed himself off the ground with a complicated hand thrusting off the ground situation. He did not attempt to do anything further, he merely got up. The amount of concentration on his face as he did it was a bit startling, but only for a moment. For then he was standing up and someone could truly see how small he was. He was shorter than he should be, much shorter, and his muscles were basically nonexistent. It was only because he was being taken care of now that he had any bit of muscle.
Even walking or running down the hallways took a lot of effort for him, seeing as he’d been locked away in his room for so long. Things were just a bit different for him, and he was a bit more awkward. The boy’s brown hair fell over his face readily, it was clear that he hadn’t given it a trim in quite a length of time, and his hands moved to form fists that gripped onto his pants tightly, as if trying to push them around so that maybe someone wouldn’t be able to see the dark spots that had blossomed on him. Chase told him something a little bit before, and he took it to heart. “Remember your words” he said to Michael, and so Michael spoke up.
“I want to go to…to my room.” His eyes strayed across the floor, examining the ground for no real reason other than to have some place to look. Conversations were hard, and he wasn’t sure how to correctly respond to other people’s words in them, in order to make something coherent and workable. However, this was his best attempt, and he hoped that the sentence did make sense in this context. Otherwise he would have failed.
The small boy got to his feet with what looked like a lot of effort and for a moment Sam wondered if he was hurt more badly that he had first believed. But after studying his for a few minutes he decided that the child was just very frail. Sam knew that the boy should probably be taller and bulkier but then again he had seen children put on late growth spurts, so he didn’t let that worry him. The scratches on the boys cheeks would have to be seen to and the illusion mutant wondered if he had any disinfectant in his room. Probably would be the answer to that, it was the one thing his mother did right.
Sam could see that the boy was obviously embarrassed by the fact that he had wet himself and would not meet his eye. He felt a pang of pity for the youth, at that ages Sam had had a loving family and a nice life, that had changed but he still looked back on those days with fondness. He had been given a childhood but it appeared that Michael had not. Unwanted or rejected it was sad that the boy should end up here like this. He knew that the boy had just been dumped because if his parents had brought him they would have been allowed to stay with him until he settled and he wouldn’t be wearing a tag with his room number on it.
“I want to go to…to my room.”
The words were quiet and hesitant but they got the point across well enough. Sam smiled again and turned to face to right direction. The boy’s room was not far but they would have to stop at his first to get the first aid kit.
“Let’s go then, it’s just this way. Do you mind if we stop at my room first I need to get something?”
Ah. It was the right thing to say. The boy looked at his feet again, feeling at least a little bit less unsure. He moved a bit closer to Sam, and he hesitated before grabbing onto a bit of Sam’s shirt. He was a bit nervous, but he wanted to stay close. Then he wouldn’t get lost. When a child lived in his own room for a few years on end, his sense of direction was clouded just by seeing all the big things that surrounded him.
This whole school had many big things, all at once. At least he was young, and it made things easier. The boy shook his head a little bit, trying to get his hair out of his eyes. It was really hard to see when the hair fell in his eyes like that. The little boy held Sams shirt tightly as he spoke. “We…we can stop at your room. B-but…but I…I need a new pair of…of…” He gulped and trailed off.
Noticing what other people did was never really his strong suit, but he did notice that Sam was really actually being nice, and he wasn’t trying to run away from Michael, and had even seen Michael’s…incident. The boy did take comfort in that. He took in a breath, and then his other hand went to where his name-tag was. “I…I can read it but it doesn’t make make sense. I…it’s probably code.”
Before they could move off the small boy started to edge closer to Sam. The illusion mutant watched this in slightly bemused silence; he did not want to do anything that could startle the boy. He was however very surprised when Michael took hold of the bottom of his shirt. He suddenly felt that he was the boy’s lifeline and that if he were to pull away now Michael would just resume his crouched position on the floor and never get up again. He did also have a momentary moment when the thought of that small dirty hand touching him made him cringe a bit.
“We…we can stop at your room. B-but…but I…I need a new pair of…of…”
The boy’s sentence automatically made Sam look down at the offending area on Michael’s pajamas. Did the boy not have a spare pair in his room? Looking down at the small figure Sam knew nothing of his would fit apart maybe from a large pair of boxers. Well he could always lend the boy a pair, just in case he really had nothing else, he couldn’t stay like that after all. His train of through was once more interrupted by the small voice.
“I…I can read it but it doesn’t make, make sense. I…it’s probably code.”
Michael was holding up the name tag, which made Sam frown. All that was written on there was the boy’s name and the number of his room. But the big eyes that looked up at him were genuinely confused, so he decided to just go with it and take the time to explain things. He had after all already determined that Michael was not a normal child.
“The first part is your name, which you should have seen before, and the second part is the number for your room. I’ll show you.”
With this he headed off down the corridor towards his own room. All of the rooms on this floor were for student residence and seeing as there were a great many students the rooms had been numbered for convenience. A small plaque with the room’s number on it was screwed into the wall beside each door. Looking at them now he had to admit that they were a little high for Michael. They covered the rest of the distance to his room in silence and as they stood in front of the door Sam decided to explain things to Michael.
“This is my room, and see here next to the door? That little number is the room number. Your room will have the same number as the one on your badge.”
He hoped he had been clear enough for the boy; he made a mental note to show him the number on his room as well just to be sure. Then he opened the door to his room for Michael. The place was tidy and apart from the giant yellow gold crown painted over the bed on the wall the same as every other room. The crown had been a strange prank from Celeste and Sam was only now getting used to it. He ushered the boy inside and closed the door.
“The first part is your name, which you should have seen before, and the second part is the number for your room. I’ll show you.”
He looked at his nametag, which was a bit harder than looking down at his feet, bare, that shuffled along the floor. He felt the carpet slip beneath him as they walked down the hall. Michael was walking awkwardly, not only was he trying to hide the pants that were quite soiled, at the same time that he was looking at the nametag. It was true. He could see the letters made up his name “Michael” but he wasn’t very practiced in writing his name out, and did sometimes forget. He more liked to recognize the sounds.
He fiddled with the name-tag, with his other hand, and tugged at it a little bit, all of the sudden a bit more aware that its presence was constantly with him, but he liked that he knew what it was. And what it was for. It was so that he remembered his name, or maybe so other people did, and then so that he could remember his room number. Now that he knew what it was, he might memorize it, but it was doubtful, at least at this point.
“This is my room, and see here next to the door? That little number is the room number. Your room will have the same number as the one on your badge.”
Ooh. That was how you could tell that the room was yours. He moved up on the tips of his toes to look at the number. It was really close to his number, so he must have been telling the truth. Michael nodded, as if he was confirming for himself that indeed, this person was not a liar. Trusting in his judgment, he let go of Sam, his eyes squinting into the room. Though someone might not tune into the subtlety of why Michael would let go now, it was quite easy if they just looked at his previous questions. He’d gotten lost in the hallway’s already, so what was to say he wasn’t going to get lost again? Holding onto Sam allowed for Michael to be sure that this would not happen at all.
Now that he was in the room of this male, things were better, and he could understand it. Things were organized and neat in the room, there wasn’t a thing out of place. It looked like Michaels room, but he had man piles of Leggo all over the floor, and some structures he built. This room also had a crown over the bed. Maybe he was a royalty person…but that was unlikely. They had butlers and maids and such. That was how it was in the Anime shows he’d seen.
Michael entered with Sam ushering him in, and he looked around for a place to be. He didn’t want to get things dirty, and he knew he was very dirty, so he sat on the floor, careful to sit on his own feet so that the floor wasn’t dirty. He didn’t like standing for long periods of time, because it took a lot of energy, and he could just as well be sitting. The boy shifted where he sat, in the middle of the room, and he fiddled with the hem of his pajama’s shirt.
Michael came inside without any resistance and quietly found himself a place out of the road. Sam had to admit that at least the boy was un-obstructive, which in Sam’s book was a good thing. He kept an eye on the boy until he was sure that he had settled down and then turned to his cupboard to search for something that would be able to replace the boy’s pajamas.
As it turned out Sam’s closet was a treasure trove, he had all sorts of closes and even some of the same pieces just in different colours. His collection of shoes was just as impressive and as he looked down at them for a moment his eye was immediately drawn to the bright blue one. They had been a gift, all be it an unwanted one, from Celeste and although he had never seen the price he could guess that they were probably the most expensive thing in there. But shoes were not what he had come for, he was looking for something small enough to fit a small child and so he turned his attention back to the higher shelves.
After careful selection he decided that a pair of blue boxers would probably be the best option and pulled them out. Okay that was one problem sorted; next he needed to find the first aid kit. This would be a bit harder because although he was convinced that he had one, he had no idea where it might be. All he could do now is hope that when he had unpacked he had put things away in a sensible manner; which would mean that it would be somewhere near the wash basin.
Sam’s wash stand was pretty much the same as his closet, with cosmetic products covering most of the available surface. He bent down to search the baskets under the sink and was not rewarded with what he was looking for. He sighed and went to get a chair to climb, knowing him he had probably put it on top of the storage unit, which was a stupid place to put something you would only need if you were injured. He clambered up and peered into the shadows above the cupboards, yep there it was. Now that his treasure hunt was finished he turned back to the boy and was about to announce that they could go when an idea struck him. Changing Michael was not going to be enough, he needed a shower too. So he grabbed a tower and some shower gel as well. Right now they really were good to go.
“We’ve got everything we need, so how about we get you cleaned up and then off to bed?”
Michaels eyes strayed from their usual spot at the floor to look at the room. It was really clean, and he really did like the crown. It was kind of…princely. Princes wore crowns after all, right? And the color of the crown was so perfect and gold. It wasn’t really a mix of colors or anything. It was just…golden. He tilted his head, staring at it as though he’d expected it to get up and walk away or something at any moment. Such a pretty thing couldn’t resign itself to one room.
A rustling broke his train of thought, and the easily distracted boy turned his head quickly to look at it. Sam was getting things. He looked at the wardrobe and his mouth almost fell open. Were all those clothes for Sam? He moved forward, trying not to touch anything as he stared in the wardrobe. They were all clothes that were Sam’s size. That many clothes for one person was…well that was just insane, right? He must be super rich. He had a crown over his bed, and a billion clothes. Now Michael felt bad for having Sam help him.
He looked down at his feet again, and waited like that until Sam came over. He stood up to leave, and it took him some time to feel truly steady. He didn’t like getting up as much as he liked sitting down. Then of course, Sam had to leave to go grab another thing. He waited, holding onto his pants tightly this time, until Sam told him they were ready to go. He nodded a little bit at Sam’s suggestion.
“It…it’s a really big bed.” He said quietly, and then he slowly continued. “It’s a lot different from my room.” He wasn’t sure about the room being his home yet, afraid it might be overstepping the boundaries that may or may not be in place.
