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.
'You timed this whole thing perfectly. Arriving in New York City, and its the US Open. I should be able to keep my head down until I find this Institute place.'
Domingo Agravar, a Spanish-born Brit, had made his way to New York. He made his way up the steps from the underground subway, and emerged into the sunlight, which hurt his bright sky-blue eyes. As he squinted at his surroundings, he found a bench, threw his three small bags onto the ground, and took in all that was going on around him.
'Jesus, its busy. I wonder just how many mutants there are in a city like this? Must be loads...'
Sitting on the bench next to an old, scruffy-looking man reading a newspaper, Domingo recalled the humorous events of the journey. The journey itself had to take in a lengthy stop in Amsterdam on his way from London. The plane ride from Amsterdam to New York City had been an eventful one, with two young men causing problems due their smoking of 'illegal substances' in the toilet cubicle. An older gentleman and his wife had objected to the thick, murky white smoke appearing from beneath the doorway and proceeded to knock on the door, screaming and shouting at the two renegades who were shouting obscenities back. It took four flight attendants and the copilot of the plane, combined with several angry, outraged passengers to eventually get the men out of the toilet. In the hilarious melee that followed, the men were dragged to the front of the plane.At one point the older lady who had originally found the men in the toilet, went over to hit the younger looking one on the head several times with a rolled-up magazine. In trying to defend himself, he grabbed the magazine and a tug of war began, with hands in faces, flight attendants pulled over to the floor, and other passengers becoming involved! The pair were eventually dragged to the front of the plane where they had to stay until the plane landed. Domingo had found the whole thing highly entertaining,a nd it had broken up an otherwise boring nine-hour journey.
A smile came across Domingo's face as he remembered the scene. It was at this moment he heard shouting coming from down the street behind him. He turned to see what was going on, and standing up to look past the busy street of other curious onlookers, he saw four large, muscular men pulling what seemed to be a a young, green-skinned boy, crying his eyes out and screaming for his mother.
"Shut it, kid. You're not gonna be scaring anyone with your freakish looks, not where you're going," one of the large men shouted in the face of the terrified youngster.
It was obvious this kid was a mutant, his green, scaly skin was a definite giveaway. Onlookers just looked the other way when they saw the men pacing along, and as they went past Domingo, his eyes met with the kid's for a second. The tear in the poor child's eye fell away from his face as he was yanked along. Domingo watched as the tear fell to the ground, but just before it was to make contact with the pavement, the tear began to pull toward Domingo. It fell to the ground just in front of Domingo's shoe. The kid was dragged out of sight, and the crying and shouting faded away, replaced by the familiar sounds of hustling, bustling and cars beeping.
The old man next to Domingo, who hadn't looked up once from his newspaper as the event unfolded, then spoke to Domingo.
"Say, son. You don't have a lighter do ya?"
"No, sorry. I don't smoke sir." Domingo replied in a softly-spoken, ever so slightly Spanish-twinged accented voice. "Did you see that poor kid? He was crying his little eyes out. What could he have done?"
The man looked up at Domingo. He studied the young mutant's appearance for a second. There were no tell-tale signs that Domingo was a mutant. His eyes were a bright shade of blue, but other than that, Domingo looked pretty much 'normal.' But the man sneered at him after his inspection. He stood up, and began ranting loudly.
"You're one, aren't ya? I can tell. You're one of them. Them freaks. What are you doin' here? You're not wanted here!" The man had made a bit of a scene, and people had began to circle Domingo. The Spaniard was now extremely afraid of what could happen. Is this what this city was like? Is this what he would have to deal with? Domingo just wanted to live and let live.
"Listen, I don't want any trouble. I'm just here for the tennis. I just arrived from London. Please..." Domingo was interrupted as the back of his jacket was grabbed by a large man who had been watching from afar.
"Thats it, get him!" shouted the old, scruffy looking man who had unnecessarily created the drama. "Get the freak!"
Domingo managed to grab two of his three bags and push through the jeering crowd. He put his head down and ran. He didn't want to run, but he knew he had to. He didn't want to make the situation uncontrollable, and to a degree, regrettable. He made his way quickly along the sidewalk, round the corner onto a less-busy street, and pulled up to catch his breath against a wall.
'So, its no different here. Who was I kidding, it wasn't going to be any different. I need to find the ones I came here to find. Maybe then things like that won't happen.'
The flight in to New York had been uneventful. No weed-smoking idiots in an airplane bathroom or co-pilot-inclusive scuffling caught her attention. All Lenna dealt with on her flight from Paris to New York was the occasional layover or boring Frenchman complaining of in-flight cuisine. Kind of grating, really, but nothing to blow a fuse over (relatively speaking). She exited the air port after her flight, path unerring in its formulation. All bags that would be too-difficult to carry from the air port to her apartment in the Burroughs had been sent ahead via post. She preferred to travel light. That's why, as she made her way along the street, she carried but a single yellow and black duffel bag filled with important possessions. She wore the same black leather coat with yellow and gray shoulders, the same black turtleneck T-shirt below that, and the same black jeans she'd been wearing since changing in the airport's bathroom into something less gamy.
The cab driver jerked to a stop, pulling up against the curb as he approached the subway entrance. Up ahead, a group of hooligans tossed a Spanish man and his baggage back and forth. "Your stop," he apologized, "comes a bit sooner than I could foresee. But there's the subway entrance ahead. Your ride comes to..." Lenna's attention trailed off as he listed the amount. She stared out her window. The ever-present headache in the back of her mind hopped.
"Yeah, that's great. Here," She paid the man exact change in cash. He flipped through the wad of bills, and pleasantly wished her a safe trip. Lenna shrugged, and climbed out the side of the vehicle. She walked up to the group of men, happy as a hemorrhage on the streets of New York.
The man they'd been harassing broke through the wall of men, two bags in-hand out of three. Lenna watched his course of direction carefully, then approached the gang.
"Awfully rude of you, gentlemen. Picking on the foreigner in your midst. One would think citizens of the city of New York would accept everyone. The big apple isn't rotten now, is it?"
"He was a mutant," one of the men muttered. Lenna scoffed.
"Now really? What evidence do you offer to support such conclusions, and what exactly gives you the right to use that as an excuse to do such a repugnant act? Excuse me," She slipped forward and casually plucked the bag from the concrete, swinging it over her shoulder. Lenna glanced towards where the man had ran. One of the men stepped in front of her territorially. Lenna sighed., "You're blocking my view. Now, please." Her right leg snapped forward to hit him in the shin. He stumbled backwards, pained.
"Oh, she's a feisty one." Another man grinned. He rubbed his hands together excitedly.
"I think we'll have fun with her, boys." Yet another stepped in her way. Lenna glanced from face to face, skeptically.
"A little feist foisted upon you, and suddenly it's a fiesta? Ay ay ay... but enough of that. I could kick your asses two ways past Tuesday. It wouldn't solve the fact that man is missing his bag. So..." She slid forward, brushing past the men coldly. One woman from the group caught Lenna's shoulder. Lenna glanced at her. "Please. Do let go."
"You're one of em too, aren't cha? We'll show you what we do to your kind!" The woman cackled.
Lenna was silent a second. Then her fist broke the woman's face. "Philosophically unsound. If we are to grow as human beings, we should be able to accept all sorts and look upon the world rationally. Irrational fears are the first thing that must be overcome in order to survive in this world or the next. So please," She kicked the other members of the group into each other, then broke into a mad sprint same as the man before. "Grow the Hell up!!"
. . .
~*~
"Here."
A bag flopped down in front of the man slumped against the wall catching his breath. Lenna slid down next to him, bowing her head. She set her own yellow and black duffel bag at her feet.
A bag flopped down in front of the man slumped against the wall catching his breath. Lenna slid down next to him, bowing her head. She set her own yellow and black duffel bag at her feet.
---------------------------------------------
Domingo had been staring down at the ground, breathing deeply, and was absolutely unaware of what was happening back around the corner. This event had totally freaked him out. He'd read stories and seen movies that portrayed the big, American cities like New York as dangerous places, the kind of place strangers can be seen a mile off and picked off as easily as a (Big) apple from a tree. But stories are stories, movies are movies and cities with big reputations like New York City were and would always be attractive places for tourists and sight-seers to visit and marvel at. Domingo didn't think for one second the first instance of conversation with a local inhabitant would spark such a dramatic event.
'Wonder what the second will be like?' Domingo wondered, smiling nervously to himself.
Just as he was contemplating exactly what had just happened and also which direction looked the safest to head off into, the young Spaniard jumped as an attractive, brown haired, 20-something young lady appeared next to him. She had just thrown his black sports bag down in front of him, which had made quite a sound as the glass bottles of aftershave inside hit the ground. Domingo, now drowning in confusion as he realised he had left this bag behind with the rabble down the street, looked to his right where the young lady had slumped down to his level, made eye contact and cleared his throat to speak.
"Er, thanks. Thank you very much. Where did you find this? I, er, had a bit of trouble with some locals. I think I must have rubbed them up the wrong way somehow!"
Domingo's half-Spanish, half-English accent spilled into the air like a thin cloud of steam. He spoke with a softness and a certain delicate pronunciation of his words. English had been his main spoken language since he was a little boy, and he'd enjoyed learning how to speak it. Nervously, he reached into the black bag returned to him and peered inside. He pulled out a toothbrush, toothpaste, a small hand towel and the underwear that the other items had been wrapped in. Upon realising the company he was in, and glowing as red as the pants themselves, he quickly threw the items back in the bag and looked up at the bag's saviour once more.
"This is my toiletries bag. You have saved me from having to purchase a new toothbrush! Thanks again," he smiled, a twitch in his cheek as he spoke. "I wonder, do you know somewhere round here I could get a cup of tea? I could really do with one after what has just happened to me. I'm Domingo, by the way."
Domingo stood to his feet, scratched the back of his head, and put out his hand to shake with the girl's.
"Back in the rabble," Lenna muttered, jabbing a thumb back towards the area she'd come from. Her eyes rose to meet his with a friendly look. She dropped her voice to speak calmly. "And whatever it is they saw fit to start a fight over, it wasn't your fault. Just people being people with a vapid mob mentality. Don't worry about it. Not everyone's a vicious murderer in New York."
A light smirk played at the corners of her mouth as she said this. Not everyone. And some of the people that were could be trusted to keep their heads.
As she sat there, Lenna couldn't help but notice things. His facial features spoke volumes of his Spaniard heritage, but as the words left his mouth they had a British feel. His accent was a crisp mix between English and Spanish. He seemed to know the language well enough, so he wasn't a bumbling foreigner. That much she could tell. And apparently, his underwear were red (or at least the ones in the bag she'd retrieved for him were). She noticed that as well. "Usually, that color's kept a secret for later..." She whispered wryly.
It seemed the moment's respite was over. He got to his feet, and she followed suit. Lenna bent down to unzip her duffel bag, and pulled out a map.
"Glad to be of service, though. Lesse here... I'm a bit new in the area as well. I've been out of the country for a while now, and just got back in today, but... ah, here we go." She held the map out in front of him, index finger pinned down on a location circled in red ink. "Before I got on the flight I did a bit of research into the area, the many restaurants and hotels... that right there's a Chinese restaurant. I know for a fact they serve green tea. Perhaps it is good green tea. Care to find out?"
She glanced at his extended hand, and folded the map under one arm to free up her own for the shake. She shook with a firm grip. "My name is Lenna."
Domingo chuckled, rather embarrassed as he realised that he'd probably looked like a bit of a coward running away like that and not really standing his ground. The fact that he was talking to somebody who must have see him run, made him feel a bit of a wimp.
"The rabble. Yeah. I kind of like to stay out of trouble..."Domingo spoke as the girl took out a map from her own bag. He looked intently at the map as she spoke of an interesting-sounding Chinese restaurant. The truth was, Domingo just wanted to get off the street and get over the whole episode that had just happened. Remembering that it wasn't far around the corner that it had all happened, he glanced around the corner and noticed that a few of the 'rabble' were pacing down the street.
"Lenna. Lovely to meet you."She took hold of his hand with a surprisingly firm handshake, which prompted him to look back at her. "Yeah, that sounds great, you want to go now?"
Domingo bent over quickly and grabbed hold of his two larger bags, throwing them over both his shoulders and picking up his black one rescued by Lenna. He had a bit of a worried smile on his face, and proceeded to turn towards one direction. He then realised he didn't have a clue which way was the correct way to go, and turned back to face Lenna with a grin on his face.
She caught him peeking back towards the thug group around the corner, yes she did. She didn't say anything other than 'Certainly', then scooped up her bag and broke into a slightly-quickened walk. If he wanted to avoid more pointless fighting today, that was fine. Even better, it was sane. A step up from some people she'd met that day. She didn't care for that sort of attention, either. A nice plate of General Tso's or sweet and sour pork sounded better than all that right now. After the flight, she could use a good meal.
She smiled back at him, checking to make sure he was still keeping up, then glanced casually back down to the map. "It should be around here pretty soon, actually. Around this corner and up the street..." Lenna's eyes narrowed as she focused in on giving directions. She weaved around a pair of pedestrians without looking up, as if dodging others was second-nature. "Turn here..." They cut around a corner near an intersection. Ahead of them, a library loomed, complete with lion statues. A man sat playing guitar in the enclosed grassy area near the library's fountain. The street narrowed down from 'thick commercial' to just shy of livable. Lenna pointed to a sign across the street. "There it is. We just have to cross the intersection... so," She jerked to a halt in front of the crosswalk, and turned to face him as cars swept by. "First day in the big city?" The map doubled over and made its way back into the yellow and black bag. Lenna's eyes stayed focused on him.
Domingo was glad they could move further away from the potential trouble. He just didn't want to get into situations, and a nice cup of tea sounded much better than any kind of altercation. He especially didn't want to make his abilities apparent; for all he knew, Lenna didn't know he was a mutant and also whether she'd have the same opinion of Domingo's new friends.
The pair had moved quite quickly along the street, passing an impressive looking building that Lenna had mentioned was a library. The song that the busker on the guitar had been playing, 'With A Little Help From My Friends' by The Beatles, had seeped into Domingo's head and he was humming it minutes after the reverberations of the strings of the guitar had faded into the distance. He loved that song, and it gave him a good feeling. Dependent on the tea, this day might just be getting better, he thought to himself.
"Yeah, I just arrived here from London." Domingo replied to the question. They had just stopped to cross the road, and were waiting for the cars to come to a halt to let them pass. "I'm looking for some place I heard about, somewhere I hope to be able to really find myself." He looked back at Lenna, after crossing the road in front of the cars, which were ready to pounce as soon as the lights changed.
Just as the pair reached the doorway of the restaurant, Domingo reached to open the door for Lenna, before speaking. "How about you? You mentioned a flight... where did you arrive from?"
"Paris," Lenna stated stated simply. She didn't do more to explain the situation around her time in Paris. The whole matter was veiled in secrecy, left vacant to his wildest dreams.
A hostess sprang to greet them as Lenna brushed through the doorway he’d so graciously held open. Lenna held up two fingers. The hostess made a note. A second woman was ushered over. Lenna smiled at the waitress. She was a young woman. The lines on her face dictated she couldn’t be more than 20. A crimson tray contrasted with the light blue of her Chinese dress. Lenna followed the woman through an open arch to a small booth. She slid in on the right side of the table, and took a menu when the waitress held one out for her. The waitress smiled and handed Domingo one as well.
“I’ll be back with your tea shortly. Thank you.” She turned professionally, and vanished around a corner.
Lenna flipped open her menu and glanced at the pictures. The décor of the restaurant was a simple traditional blend of Chinese colors and designs. One might even call it the cliché. A golden dragon stretched across the wall on Lenna’s right, emblazoned in metal against the contrast of red paint.
"So, you say you're searching for something..." Lenna noted conversationally, eyes fixated on the menu. "What kind of place are you searching for?"
The waitress returned with tea. She set a coral red tea cup in front of each customer, and bent forward to gently pour tea into each. The aroma of green tea met Lenna’s sinuses, thick and heavy. It momentarily took her breath away. A contented smile dripped onto her face. “Thank you,” She nodded at the waitress.
“Are you ready with your order?” She asked.
Lenna nodded, and held out her menu to point at the General Tso’s chicken. “General Tso’s. Pork-fried rice on the side.” She folded the map and returned it to the waitress. The woman nodded, and turned to take Domingo’s order. Lenna always had loved Chinese restaurants. The service was prompt, the food was good, and the tea made her heady. It was the perfect brew the brood over, made the perfect location for friendly conversation. Eliana had liked it too.
Domingo raised his eyebrows when Lenna mentioned Paris. He had noticed that she didn't seem keen on talking about it, and as she took her seat, Domingo decided it best not to further question her about it. Not really my business, he thought. Maybe it isn't that important...
The restaurant was a cosy-feeling place, and the waitress' ear-to-ear smile made him feel immediately welcome. He sat down on the red-leather covered seat and rubbed his hands together before reaching for the menu. He watched Lenna as she observed every detail of the room, and of the waitress herself. Lenna was an instantly likeable person, in who's company Domingo had felt comfortable with pretty much straight away. She struck him as particularly intelligent and had a philosophical air about her that Domingo was intrigued by. His attention turned back to the menu.
As the waitress returned and poured the tea, Domingo flicked through the menu, looking for something that took his fancy. He had always been a meat fan, and the sweet 'n sour ribs looked the most suited to his carnivorous pallet. He spoke softly to order, and then picked up his cup to take a swig of tea.
"Ahhh, lovely!" he said as he finished the cup. "Just what I needed." Domingo then began to talk more about his reasons for being in New York.
"Yes. The place is a bit of a retreat actually, from what I have tried to learn on the net and stuff. Its somewhere that I reckon I'll be able to learn more about myself, and also hopefully somewhere I'll be accepted for who and what I am." Domingo's eyes moved as he looked out of the windows. "I have a bit of a condition that I need to learn more about. And I thought the best place to do that would be with others who have been and still are in my position."
Domingo felt like he could speak to Lenna about looking for the Institute, but he was still a little unsure of how she'd react. She had been so welcoming so far, and he didn't want to ruin that. But then again, he thought, maybe she'd stumbled across that on her pre-trip research. Maybe she could help me...
"Fitting in." Lenna repeated. She smiled methodically at him. Fitting in was always important on Maslow's hierarchy of needs. The need to be accepted was highly relevant, even to her. "It sounds like a nice place. Getting to know one's self is important." Even if one couldn't really know what they'd do in any given situation... She wondered what he needed to learn about himself... and why he wanted to be accepted for 'who, and what' he was. She sipped her tea slowly, poring over the topic. Lenna opened her mouth to speak. As her monologue continued, she turned the tea cup in her hand for emphasis. "Sometimes, you've just got to go out in the world and see it for yourself to learn. Self-knowledge can come about just as easily from working with others as it can from gaining self-reliance. When I was younger, I took a trip to Europe to find myself. I found out more than I'd bargained for." Her eyes hardened as she fell silent. The lines of the tea cup turned, turned, catching the glint of light from the nearby window.
She glanced at Domingo again. A condition. Yes, Lenna knew about conditions very well. The malfunctioning chip in her neck, for instance. That was a condition. It was a condition that sent out low jarring bolts of voltage through her nervous system at random invervals. It had, ever since Paris. She'd learned to deal with the migraines that came and went. Lenna had a high tolerance for punishment. Just what sort of condition did he have that he felt elicited the need for change?
"I had a friend once. Johnathon, his name was... he had a condition. One that forced him to keep close watch on his temperature every day. And his insulin levels." A diabetic. A mutant diabetic. "He was reckless, always charging forward in life even when others worried about him more than he cared to admit..."
The tea cup turned again. Her eyes softened. She set the cup back down, and refilled. "It sounds like you two might have similar problems. You see, Johnathon was a mutant."
The tea pot sat back down with a clack. Lenna brought her tea cup gently to her mouth again, and sipped. It was good.
The waitress returned to the table. She eyed the luggage underfoot suspiciously, and checked the tea pot. Still full. "Your orders will be ready shortly," she smiled politely, then walked off.
((OOC: We forget to mention the placement of the luggage in this scene. Four bags vanished into thin air. Hope it was alright I shoved them underneath the table.))
As Lenna talked about her experience in Europe, Domingo wondered what it could have been that she hadn't 'bargained for' whilst she was there. "I s'pose thats one of the reasons I've come over here from London. I've lived there since I was five years old when I moved from Spain and it really became part of who I am. Its a cool city, London. Apart from my family, I guess I'll miss the familiarity of the place more than anything else. Did you visit while you were in Europe?"
Conversation really took hold for the first time between the two new friends. Lenna had opened herself up a bit more when talking about her friend, Johnathon. "What happened to him, where is he now?" Domingo asked, becoming slightly concerned as to the fate of the reckless young man that Lenna seemed to really care about.
Domingo watched as Lenna stared into her cup for a second before carrying on speaking. When she mentioned the 'M' word though, Domingo shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, his eyes wandering around the room, little nervous smiles coming and going on his face. Silence fell between the two for a moment, the only sounds were the laughing voices of nearby eaters and drinkers, the distant shouting from the kitchen of chefs and waitresses, the bell above the door ringing as a young couple arrive for a taste of General Tso's famous menu. The waitress returned, noticing the baggage and mentioning how long the food would be. As she turned away to serve the new customers with hungry faces awaiting to be sat, Domingo decided to be honest with Lenna.
"You're right. I am a mutant," Domingo whispered whilst leaning slightly towards Lenna. "Its something I have little control over." His voice became a little louder, and as he carried on speaking, each word he said was pronounced more aggressively, like he was getting more highly strung. "I've tried to learn how to repress it to a degree, but sometimes, when an overwhelming sense of emotion comes over me, if I get angry, or intensely unhappy, or even if I become jubilant or euphoric, if I laugh uncontrollably hard, any of these things, it can come over me." Domingo stopped, breathed hard and tried to contain himself. "It is something I need to learn to control, before I do something bad, something I'll forever regret."
The young Spaniard looked down at his fingers, which had been twitching as he spoke. He'd been honest with Lenna, and a part of him was glad. But the other part of him was afraid, afraid of what this could mean to Lenna, to himself and to his life. Domingo had never been so forthright in his description of himself to somebody before. He'd felt comfortable enough with her to tell her, after all, she'd said she had a friend who was a mutant. But speaking so passionately about his 'condition' had never been something he'd wanted to do before. It was something he'd always wanted to avoid talking about.
At that moment, something came into Domingo's mind. He looked back up to Lenna, making eye contact with her and maintaining the connection of eyes. The realisation that he'd become very highly strung while he was speaking and nothing had happened came over him. No salt shaker had suddenly come flying towards him, the teapot full of boiling hot tea had remained relatively still on the table, the cups had moved a little, but nothing near to how easily they would have been attracted to him usually. All of a sudden, Domingo stood up and turned his attention to the bags that Lenna had placed out of the way under the table. He reached out to the bags, as if attempting a Jedi force trick. The bags began to shuffle slightly, but they stayed perched to their position. Domingo's confused looking face turned around, and he strolled over to the door, and paced outside onto the street. The people in the restaurant all followed him with their gaze, whispering to themselves in wonderment.
Domingo stood on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant. It was evening now, and the light was fading. The odd person was passing by, going about their own business. Domingo looked up to the sky for a moment. His eyes then fell back down towards the street and he slowly closed his them in a concentrated stance, seemingly focusing on something in his mind and soul.
Then, in the smallest of movements, he pushed himself off the ground with his toes, space came between his feet and the concrete, and he was slowly rising from the street and into the moonlight above.
>>"I s'pose thats one of the reasons I've come over here from London. I've lived there since I was five years old when I moved from Spain and it really became part of who I am. It's a cool city, London. Apart from my family, I guess I'll miss the familiarity of the place more than anything else. Did you visit while you were in Europe?"
"Of course," Lenna nodded matter-of-factly. "London was one of the first places I visited. I had to check out Abbey Road, after all." Yes, it sounded totally tourist-chic, she knew. But growing up, Lenna had always liked the Beatles. Columbia didn't get much recent American music back then. Only the best of the best filtered through. "My friend Elly liked the Beatles too. She's who got me into them."
"And as for Johnathon... no clue." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. For all she knew, he was still in Columbia serving Cortez. Or what was left of Cortez.
She noted Domingo's uncomfortable shift with a passive glance. Had she offended him, or struck gold? For a moment, everything was silent. Then he came clean.
>>"You're right. I am a mutant," Domingo whispered whilst leaning slightly towards Lenna. "Its something I have little control over."
She listened politely, doing nothing to deter the reveal. So, it was something he had little control over, she noted. And he worked every day to control it, lest something horrible happen. That was good. It meant he actually cared enough to exercise restraint and responsibility. She'd been right in thinking him a better person than those anti-mutant thugs. For a moment, she wondered if he was worried she'd be of the same ilk. If he did, she might have been slightly offended, because honestly, she'd hoped her actions would speak better than that. The tea cup pressed against her lips as she took a long sip and let him finish any thoughts he had.
That's when things got weird.
"Er..." An exclamation that seemed more like a croak escaped her. Domingo had risen, arm outstretched, and done his damnedest to... she supposed, to show her the power he'd been so passionate about keeping in check. They shook a little. Lenna blinked. "What exactly..."
Then he walked out. He actually walked out. Well, that was nice. Leave the lady with the bill, and forget your bags... Lenna turned to the waitress as she approached the table. "Um... sorry. Can you wait on us just a second. I've got to check on what fuse my friend there just blew. We're leaving our bags, so don't think we're dining and dashing. You have to understand, I'd never do anything like that. And--" A wallet whipped out. Lenna forced a five dollar bill into the waitress's hand. "Good faith money in advance for being such an understanding person. Make sure nobody steals our luggage, will ya? Be right back."
The waitress stared at Lenna dumbfounded as the brunette rushed after the Spaniard out the restaurant's door. She glanced at the people around her, then at the baggage on the floor under the table, then back to the hostess. Finally, they settled on the pot of tea. She slid into the booth and poured herself a cup.
"I'm on break, Debbie."
The hostess shook her head with a nervous laugh. "Uh huh..."
~*~
Where was he? Lenna's eyes raked the faces in the crowd, blurring the city lights as her gaze whipped by. It didn't take long to find him, thankfully.
He was out front, in the air.
Lenna approached him slowly, eyes fixated at some point on the skyline inches below his feet. Hands tugged at the collar of her jacket, closing in to maintain heat. Was he... levitating? "I guess that's his power..." Lenna muttered silently, breaking focus on the man in midair momentarily to aim an uncomfortable smile at the crowd. He's drawing attention.... She noted nervously, worry obvious on her face. Maybe if I got closer... he just dealt with anti-mutant idiots earlier today. The hell's he thinking, making a show.
Footsteps approached Domingo from below. Lenna stood, looking upward beneath him. She opened her mouth and cupped her hands to increase the volume. "Please come down... your tea's getting cold."
Domingo had been that freaked out by his inability to affect the bags back inside that he had ran outside to check if he had lost his power. The flying aspect of his abilities was the one that he adored the most, the thing he couldn't live without. Without his abilities, he felt claustrophobic, and unfree. For some reason, it felt like his powers had faded in strength, and he desperately needed to see if they'd diminished altogether. As he floated in the air outside the restaurant, he smiled to himself, relieved that he could still feel the freedom of flight.
At that moment, he looked down at Lenna, who had ran outside the restaurant with a concerned look on her face. As his eyes met hers, he began to drop to the ground, but not with any kind of control, more like someone or something was pushing or pulling him down.
Why, how, what is happening? Domingo couldn't understand why his powers were failing him. As he landed awkwardly beside Lenna, he remembered that back inside as they sat at the table he hadn't been able to show Lenna how he used his relationship with gravity to attract objects to him. The bags hadn't moved. And now, outside with Lenna stood next to him, he wasn't able to rise up again. Was it her? Could she be stopping him from being able to use his power?
"I'm really sorry about that. I just really freaked out. My powers wouldn't work, I don't know why." Domingo went to head back inside the door. "You're right, my tea's still in there. I hope you didn't think I was running away without paying!"
"Powers... didn't work." Lenna's body language betrayed her interest. Her crossed arms said 'no', but the glint in her eyes said 'something about this statement rings true!' It had been happening more often, hadn't it? In Columbia... in Paris... mutants had found themselves unable to use the full extent of their abilities in near proximity to her, hadn't they? Lenna had thought at the time they'd just been failures, people out of practice who mewled in her presence... But maybe...
No.
"Has that ever happened before?" She asked. "Powers... not working properly, I mean. You mentioned you had a bit of control issues back in the restaurant. Perhaps this was just another of those?"
Occam's Razor dictated that when two competing theories that made exactly the same predictions were present, the simplest of the two was most likely, and most logical. If his powers were malfunctioning, then scientifically-speaking, it was more likely it was related to the powers themselves than an outside force's interaction. An outside force would need so many more things to be true for it to exist… and the powers were already shown, and described as tempermental.
Lenna eyed him with an arced brow. “And don’t worry about the restaurant. I tipped the waitress and told her to watch our bags. And… there she is.” Lenna caught sight of the woman in the blue Chinese dress at their table as the pair reentered. The woman sat, sipping their tea.
Again, sipping their tea. Blue-green blink.
It was a good thing she'd already been tipped. Lenna would have been hesitant to tip her after seeing this.
"Thank you," She approached the table, and laid her hands across it, leaning in. Serious eyes were serious. The waitress looked up with a nod, and finished her cup.
"I'll get you two a fresh pot and cups. If you'll excuse me..." She rose, reddish tinge of embarrassment playing at her cheeks.
Lenna took her seat with all the grace and presence of a lady, eyes closed as if ignoring the fact. Their bags were still present, and the waitress had done her job. That was fine.
But the tea? She'd eyed her cup in horror the second she saw that waitress. That was her cup. Lenna was very protective of things she drank from. More often than she'd cared to admit, people had tried to poison those very same elements. Her voice cracked ever-so-slightly as she returned her focus to Domingo. "Good service here. Very under-standing." She smoothed the table cloth and fretted with her napkin and silverware subconsciously. Was she acting like a child right now? She couldn't tell. The redness on her cheeks was far too loud.
Domingo followed Lenna back toward the door. He couldn't understand it. Maybe it had something to do with his tiredness, he'd had a long day, flying in that morning from Amsterdam and after all the commotion the day had produced. He decided against using his powers for a while. He'd give himself some time to get back down to earth.
"No, that has never happened before. If anything, its actually usually the other way around, as in I can't stop it. The 'control issues' were sort of in that respect, if you know what I mean."
Domingo felt a little conscious of himself as he followed Lenna back inside. His little neurotic episode had attracted the attention of the other customers and some seemed to be staring at him. 'Maybe this is the other side of my condition,' Domingo thought. 'Attracting attention. Bad attention.
"Ah, you already tipped the waitress. I will give you some money, I do not want to shame my familia!" The waitress disappeared to get the tea she had so kindly help devour. "It seems I'm determined to lose a bag or two today, please forgive me for my little 'moment.' It must be the tiredness. I apologise."
It was at this time that Domingo remembered where he was. He was an eighteen-year old legal alien in a new, big city with limited funds and without a hotel room. Thoughts of the Institute came into his mind, and Domingo remembered the reason why he had journeyed to New York City. Although over-awed by the whole place, and after almost being attacked by a mob of angry mutant-haters, Domingo could have been forgiven for being a little scared. But the young traveller knew he was here for the right reasons. He knew he had to follow his heart, and his heart was closer to where he believed it belonged.
The waitress returned with the fresh tea. Domingo looked up at her, and spoke with a slightly embarrassed tone of voice. "Thank you." The waitress, who had seen him through the window, gave Domingo a long, hard look. Then she leaned over the table in between the two and, with a sense of the secretive yet mischievous in her voice, whispered every so quietly. "I can walk through walls."
