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.
A soft but persistent bell tone filled the cabin of the jet, rousing Isaac from his nap beneath several layers of survival blankets. He’d finished the last of the steaks an several hours ago and, given the ****-poor nature of his company, there was nothing left to do but shield himself against the cold and try not to be conscious for the rest of the flight. He emerged from his cocoon of barely-tolerable lukewarm just in time to miss the first words of a genial, computerized voice.
“…oach. Please prepare to disembark.”
Isaac looked at the screen on the wall. It showed a little graphic of the plane a short distance to the northeast of a large red dot and a line he assumed to be the pipeline. There was also a small “x” near the plane labeled “Supply Drop” and a clock at the bottom which said “Local Time: 2:33 PM.” Good. At least it would be warm outside. Daytime temperature in the desert was tolerable, but nights could get frustratingly cold.
Pushing his way out of the blankets, Isaac stumbled to his feet as the plane slowed and started to descend. Getting his balance, he shoved past the goth girl and positioned himself directly in front of the door, hunching slightly under the jet’s curved ceiling. He didn’t want to spend a second more in this flying freezer than he had to.
The jet hit the ground with a light jostle and Isaac practically pushed the door open. A scorching wind entered the cabin and he breathed it in with relish before leaping from the plane. He hit one stride on the partially extended stairs before pushing off again and landing with both boots in the sunbaked dust. Even beneath his clothes he could feel the warmth of the desert. Without really thinking, he pulled down his hood and mask and looked up at the sky, spending a few moments to just soak in the heat.
That done, it was time to get down to business. Isaac looked around at where they had landed. It seemed to be some kind of landing space of packed dirt in the midst of the dunes that had either fallen out of use or was used very rarely; nothing but a small aluminum shack and no sign of people. Most of the horizon was nothing but sand dunes, broken only by a mass of glittering steel pipes about a mile distant.
That must be the well. Now there was something about a supply drop….
Isaac narrowed his eyes and scanned the dunes in front of the oil well.
There! Just beyond the edge of the packed landing area, half covered in sand was a large, tan crate. Isaac opened the front of his coat to the desert wind and walked toward it.
Food. That was good. Thirteen hours was far too long to go without eating. Hopefully they’d packed enough. Blankets was even better. Assuming he wasn’t going to be able to set the air in here to anything other than “Arctic,” he was going to need them.
Isaac turned and stalked to the back of the plane, opening a cabinet he assumed held the extra layering. It did. The top shelves had an assortment of light, cotton fabrics –no good- but beneath them were several thick quilts and heavy-duty survival blankets. Isaac grabbed the whole stack up in a lumpy pile and turned around just in time to see the emo girl dump a plate of steaks into a hole in the wall.
A few moments passed as Isaac processed what he just saw. The girl had just dumped a pile of raw meat into some kind of slot. The slot was the trash. The meat came from the fridge. Food in the fridge had been provided to their personal tastes. He liked raw meat. Those steaks… THOSE WERE HIS STEAKS! And the b**** had just dumped them in the trash!
“THE F***!?!” Isaac shouted, the pile of blankets falling to the floor. He leapt toward the front of the plane, shoving one of the little imp’s wings out of the way. “YOU **** THOSE WERE MINE!!!”
Isaac slid/collided to a stop in front of the forward compartments, clawing at the wall where he’d seen the meat disappear and cursing/praying that the trash wasn’t immediately dumped while in the air.
There was the slot opening… Isaac peered inside –too dark to see. He reached an arm in and started fishing around. There was…. paper? Something soft? Isaac breathed a short sigh of relief and clutched at the object. There, it was -nope… maybe a little to the left?…. now if he could just….
F*** it, this was taking too long! Isaac drew his arm from the trash slot and grabbed the edges of the panel, pulling on it in swift, frantic jerks. It gave a little, but not enough. And not fast enough. Isaac swore through his teeth and stepped back. He was NOT going to suffer through this trip without food.
His coat hit the floor followed by his gloves. Isaac bent and wrenched at the panel again, this time with hands glowing a dark, sullen red. The plastic writhed beneath his grip, curling in foul-smelling contortions and falling away to reveal a metal bin. Isaac tore the container from its hole and dumped its contents on the ground. The fire alarm started to shriek at the smoke from the plastic, but he ignored it.
There were his steaks, lying among wadded up papers and other debris. He picked them up as delicately as he could, trying not to heat them too much, but their juices still sizzled at his touch. He separated the top one from the stack, then opened the fridge and tossed the rest in unceremoniously. Turning a glare toward the stupid girl, he pulled down his mask and tore a bite from the steak in his hand, his teeth searing through it like steaming knives.
He strode forward, chewing slowly, until he was directly under the frantically beeping fire alarm and punched it with his free hand. It gave one last, warbling beep before melting into the cabin ceiling. Isaac then turned, gathered his discarded clothes, and returned to the seat opposite the stupid little b****, continuing his glare and taking another bite of the steak.
If it wasn’t for the fact they were supposed to be working together on a mission, he’d seriously consider grilling those stupid wings himself.
Posted by Calcifer on Nov 30, 2016 18:37:35 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
The plane lurched into the air, forcing Isaac to quickly shift his weight to keep balance before he could return to glowering at the ill-tempered child.
“Yeah, next time try learning how to talk before saying how great you are.” Isaac sneered. Normally he wouldn’t even care enough about a random stranger to respond, but this was a job. He either worked with people who were capable of tying their own shoes or by himself. After last year, he’d sworn he’d never let himself get conned into hauling a newbie kid around again.
“And I’ve got some ‘French’ for you, too: Go –“
“SURTR. WELCOME ABOARD,” Said a deep, heavily modulated voice behind him, cutting of a statement that was most certainly not French. Isaac turned to see a monitor with the image of a dark silhouette and the name “Loki” displayed beneath it. The comment had been addressed to Isaac: for some reason these people had chosen the completely unpronounceable “Surtr” as his codename.
“I SEE THAT YOU HAVE MET VALKYRIE. SHE WILL BE YOUR PARTNER FOR THIS MISSION.”
“Look,” said Isaac, pointing a finger at the screen, “if you expect me to babysit I want double. Now. Or I’m walking.”
“THIS ORGANIZATION DOES NOT TOLERATE INSURRECTION, SURTR. I SUGGEST YOU THINK VERY CAREFULLY BEFORE TAKING ACTION AGAINST AGREEMENTS MADE IN GOOD FAITH.” The last two words carried to the tone of “or I will skin you.” Isaac wondered if the screen could see him rolling his eyes.
“REGARDLESS, RAGNAROK DOES NOT RECRUIT THE WEAK. ALL OF OUR MEMBERS ARE FULLY CAPABLE OF THE JOBS ASSIGNED THEM. YOU, SURTR, WILL ONLY BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR THE WORK DETAILED IN YOUR INITIAL CONTRACT. STILL, ACTIONS OF COMRADERY WITHIN THE RAGNAROK FAMILY WILL NOT BE WITHOUT REWARD.”
Isaac cast a narrowed glance at the girl seated behind him. So it would be no cut in pay if she died, and a potential bonus if he felt like saving her. Fair enough.
“NOW IF THAT IS ALL SATISFACTORY, THERE IS BUSINESS TO ATTEND TO.” Isaac stepped to the side so his new (sigh) partner could see the screen as it changed to a map of the Middle East.
“AS YOU MAY BE AWARE, RECENT ACTIONS OF SEVERAL ARAB NATIONS HAVE SHOWN UNACCEPTABLE HOSTILITY TOWARD MUTANT KIND. THIS CANNOT GO UNANSWERED. THE WEALTH AND POWER OF THESE NATIONS FLOWS FROM THEIR CONTROL OF THE OIL FIELDS. YOU WILL REMOVE THAT.” The screen zoomed in to show several dots on a map of central Saudi Arabia. “WE HAVE ARRANGED FOR A HOLE IN DEFENSE SURROUNDING A KEY JUNCTURE IN ONE OF THEIR PRIMARY PIPELINES. YOU WILL COMPLETELY AND IRREPARABLY DESTROY THE WELL AND CONTROL STATION. YOU WILL ALSO FIND A SUPPLY DROP OF GPS-ENABLED MINES WHICH YOU WILL INSERT INTO THE FLOW STREAM OF THE MAIN PIPELINE BEFORE DESTROYING IT, TOO, COMPLETELY. VALKYRIE WILL BE IN CHARGE OF REMOVING ANY PERSONNEL THREATS PRESENT. SURTR WILL BE IN CHARGE OF PROPERTY DESTRUCTION. THE JET WILL BE WAITING FOR YOU WHEN YOU ARE DONE.”
Isaac shrugged. This wasn’t too much more than what had been in his contract and it seemed simple enough.
“FLIGHT TIME TO TARGET IS 13.5 HOURS. THERE ARE FULL AMENITIES IN THE FORWARD CABIN ALONG WITH A SNACK BAR TAILORED TO YOUR PERSONAL TASTES, A SELECTION OF MOVIES ON YOUR INDIVIDUAL MONITORS, AND EXTRA BLANKETS IN THE REAR.”
Posted by Calcifer on Nov 28, 2016 22:22:47 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
The desert sun was oppressively hot.
It needed to be hotter.
Isaac stood at the door to his aluminum trailer and glared at the horizon. All around him, the Neveda desert stretched flat in an endless, dead wasteland. Against the tan of the baked soil, Isaac was a figure of stark black. Nearly every inch of him, from his heat-resistant boots to his basalt-fiber gloves to his custom, insulative hoodie to his long, wool overcoat was a dark, angry black broken only by lines of dark red along the mask covering his nose and mouth. The fabric practically sizzled under the sun, and it still wasn’t hot enough.
A dull roar growled across the barren dust. Isaac raised a hand to shield his eyes and was just able to make out the figure of a small jet in the simmering distance. He probably didn’t need the overcoat, if he was honest, but this was going to be a long ride. No sense in it being a cold one.
Isaac dropped his hand as the roar of the plane grew louder. No one flew out here. At least, not normally. But someone was willing to pay a lot of money to make some fire in the middle east, and Isaac was happy to take it. Not least of all because it would be in the desert instead of some snow-covered city. That had been a disaster.
The roar became deafening as the jet- apparently a modified harrier of some sort- slowed to a stop in midair and then dropped neatly to the ground in front of Isaac’s trailer, blasting sprays of dust in all directions. As the engines wound down to an idle a door on the side clicked open and folded down into a stairway. Isaac strode forward and climbed inside.
The difference in temperature was like a physical wall. Isaac wasn’t sure if his coat was actually steaming in the climate-controlled air or if it was just his imagination at the sudden change. He was glad he’d brought his coat; hell, he wished he’d brought two. He looked around for a way to adjust the temperature when he suddenly stopped. There was a girl in the cabin. A small, teenage, goth chick with matching black wings to complete the outfit. Isaac glowered. He’d been told he may be assigned a partner, but this was just stupid.
“Who the hell are you?” The words were a mixture of disinterest and contempt. Isaac didn’t do children.
New directions are nice, but it is important to stay true to your roots. To that end, does anyone want to join (or oppose) Calcifer in blowing up some oil fields in Saudi Arabia? Cal would just be a mercenary instead of a true member, but getting paid to burn things in the desert seems tempting enough to bring him back to an active status.
Posted by Calcifer on Aug 28, 2016 15:43:50 GMT -6
Tempest likes this
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
I’m not really getting through to this guy, Isaac thought wryly. He was not exactly pleased with this turn of events. Things had looked promising at first; the lizard man had backed away and looked like he was understanding what Isaac was saying, but then he had suddenly scooped Isaac up and carried him away like some kind of kidnapped maiden and…
That… was not a flattering line of thought. Isaac shoved it aside.
Though he is a bit of a dragon…. a part of his mind smirked. Isaac shoved it aside again. Harder.
Anyway, he had been carried away against his will. There wasn’t much he could do; the guy was obviously stronger than him, and had the advantage to two extra arms. Isaac grumbled at that. The feeling of weakness galled him. He hadn’t even been able to pick up his clothes, and while they were probably getting snatched up by some hobos or something he was getting carried through an eye-scan security door into some kind of….
Cavern lair? Shove.
…bunker.
Isaac pushed his way out of the lizard-man’s arms and took a step away. Almost immediately he felt the sharp cold of the air, a clawing chill after the warmth of the man’s scaly embrace. Come to think of it, even though he had lost most of his clothes and wasn’t using his power, he hadn’t noticed the cold until now. Other than his displeasure at being abducted, the trip to this place had actually been somewhat pleasantly warm, despite the winter wind. It really did feel good being close to the other mutant.
That was…. unsettling.
Whatever. He needed to get an idea of where he was. Isaac paced in a small circle, surveying the interior of the bunker. It was a large room, sparsely populated – just a few boxes in a corner and a large table under a heat lamp. The walls, floor, and ceiling were bare concrete, with steel girders crossing the ceiling between fluorescent lights. There were two steel doors: the one they had come through, and another smaller one opposite it, secured with a second eye-scan device. Hardly inviting.
Isaac moved over to look at the heat lamp, getting colder as he did so. The heat from the other mutant would take some time to fill the large space and it was still frigid from the winter cold, but Isaac didn’t want to use his power. That would just make the lizard-man more –ugh- cuddly. So he gritted his teeth and stayed cold.
On closer inspection, the heat lamp was surprisingly large. Isaac recognized the bulbs, too. They were some he’d looked into. Industrial strength, far too hot for anyone to stand in front of for more than a minute or two. If this guy used the table for any serious length of time….. Isaac looked back at the other mutant. How hot had he gotten before? Over a thousand degrees, that was for sure, and the guy had loved it. Almost disturbingly so.
And it had felt good, too. This time, Isaac didn’t put as much will into shoving the thought aside. What if this guy could really handle it?
What if he couldn’t? It didn’t look like this dragon would be dissuaded by mere words. Perhaps he needed to get burned before he’d get the point. Isaac turned to face the mutant, starting to shiver with the cold. At any rate, it looked like either burning or getting close to the guy for warmth was going to become a necessity. May as well go all the way, then.
….well, not THAT “all the way.”
No.
Not a chance.
Just burning.
Yes.
If the level of heat he’d reached last time wasn’t enough, things would have to start getting serious. Isaac pulled off his pants and dropped them at the base of the table. None of his clothing would survive this kind of heat. He stripped off his boxers then paused, looking at the other mutant.
“Um…. heh, this isn’t what it looks like.”
Why did he say that? He’d never felt awkward about being naked in front of other people before, it was just part of getting things done. But now….
Whatever. Better just get this over with.
“Alright,” he said to the lizard-man. “You want a piece of me? You want more heat? Then come and get it!”
The wave of heat practically exploded from Isaac’s body in a rippling shockwave. Before, he could barely melt aluminum. Now he was racing past temperatures that would dissolve bedrock.
3000C should do it. No real danger to me, at least, that way.
Blazing red concrete popped and cracked in the footsteps of Isaac’s white-hot form as he walked toward the giant lizard.
“You think you can handle me? Then come on, let’s do this!”
Posted by Calcifer on Aug 15, 2016 21:10:47 GMT -6
Tempest likes this
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
Isaac. HATED. Malls.
He stormed past a rows of TVs, every screen repeating the image of the same blue figure. His jaw tensed; the words were coming. Knowing made it worse. His fist clenched and acrid trails of smoke rose from his glove as the speakers blared:
Posted by Calcifer on May 16, 2016 18:51:44 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
The hammer struck the mutilated piece of steel with animal ferocity. Whatever words were being said outside the room, Isaac didn’t want to hear it. Cafas was being weak. The kid was a punk and a thief. He’d tried to steal the bike, he’d wrecked Isaac’s clothes, and now he was trying to sweet-talk his way out of what he deserved.
Isaac heated the steel to a limp, glowing mass and smashed it with the hammer, spraying molten particles across the room. This is what the kid deserved- to get his face smashed in until he payed up or spilled the name of someone who could.
>>”ISAAC!”
What was left of the steel bar melted in Isaac’s clenched fist. He barely kept from throwing the hammer against the wall. Instead, he just gripped it tighter as he stormed to the door, molten steel dripping from his hand onto the concrete floor.
Posted by Calcifer on Apr 26, 2016 20:43:40 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
The kid was a weight. Isaac knew he could drop him, but that would also mean dropping a significant amount of money. Not yet. Things weren’t impossible yet. If he needed to, he could ditch later. For now, he could spare one arm to haul a figurative sack of cash.
It wasn’t easy, though. He constantly had to pull Rhett from side to side, weaving between the ghostly figures in the smoke. Tear gas burned his eyes and choked him through his mask. A fist smeared in blood struck his jaw. Isaac punched at its source and kept running; this was no place to stop.
Isaac slowed his sprint as they approached several figures huddled by the chain link fence separating them from the main gate. He pulled Rhett up close behind him. He was preparing to punch and run when he recognized a face.
“Took you long enough,” said the armor mutant from before, holding the bolt cutters and standing next to a fresh hole in the fence.
“Yeah,” said the gravity mutant. “We got a problem.” He motioned to the hole. Roughly thirty yards beyond the fence and still groaning was the figure of a fallen inmate, occasionally illuminated by the rifle scopes sweeping the area in front of the gate.
Isaac nodded. That was bad. As long as he was cooled he could probably take a shot from those rifles- armor guy might be able to take one, too- but his cash bag couldn’t. To make things worse, he’d need to melt through the lock once he reached the gate, and he didn’t want to risk taking a shot while doing that. He looked away from the gate and scanned the length of the wall. He could try melting a new hole, but he’d have to strip down again and he’d be glowing like a flare while he did it. With the guards on heightened alert with the riot, there was no way he wouldn’t be seen, and even if he didn’t get shot immediately they’d still have to wait for the hole to cool. No, the gate was the best way.
Isaac looked back at the towers framing the gate. “Best” still wasn’t “good”. They had to get rid of those riflemen. He squinted against the dark; it looked like there was a bridge connecting the two posts. If only I could get up there… Isaac looked around for the winged mutant, but didn’t see him in the small crowd. Damn.
However…
“You!” Isaac pointed at the gravity mutant. “Can you get me up to the tower?” The man stared back blankly. “Can you blast me up there??” Understanding clicked in the mutant’s face, followed by hesitation.
“I don’t know, man… maybe. But you won’t like it. Even if you get up there, you’ll be in a pretty bad shape.”
“I’ll manage.” Isaac said tersely, trying to hid the pain in his ribs. He looked at the rest of the group. “I’ll come back down once it’s clear. Then we’ll need to get the gate open. FAST.”
He looked back at the gravity mutant. “Ready?” The man nodded. Shaking his shoulders loose, he glared through the hole in the fence, exhaled, inhaled, and started sprinting again as best he could.
10 yards.
20 yards.
30 yards. He passed the figure on the ground.
40 yards.
Light blinded his eyes. There was a loud crack accompanied by a sudden, sharp pain in his chest. He clenched the pain behind his teeth and kept running.
50 yards.
WHAMMM!! The ground struck him like a fist and threw him into the air. There was the crash of glass and the solid thud of a concrete beam. Isaac fell to the floor and rolled over onto his hands and knees. He was in.
Posted by Calcifer on Apr 19, 2016 17:54:13 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
Isaac jumped to the ground as soon as the lizard carrying him stopped in front of the door. This would be as good of time as any to ditch the monster and head off on his own. After all, they were far enough away from the sirens now that he could managed by himself, and there was no certainty that the sirens were even for him. They could be an ambulance for all he knew.
On the other hand, that beast had turned out to be incredibly fast. It had also been very keen on keeping him close by. He’d have to wait until it was really distracted.
He shuffled impatiently to the side as the giant lizard opened a hatch on the wall. Then he saw the eye scanner behind it. This caught his attention; he’d suspected some kind of safehouse, but whoever put this together (probably not the lizard man) had some decent resources. That merited looking into. It was always good to know who in a city had ways of getting things done, even if you didn’t end up working for them.
Isaac peered under the opening door into the darkness beyond. Of course, those with means were also not people to be approached incautiously. Still, the door was just steel, and could be melted easily enough it had to. Isaac stepped inside.
Rows of overhead lights snapped on at his movement, revealing a moderately-sized concrete room in the early stages of being furnished. Piles of cardboard- and some wooden- boxes were strewn haphazardly about the interior. Some were already open with contents of clothing, magazines, and electronics partially dumped on the floor beside them. There were a few chairs and a table placed randomly in the room, but carefully aligned against one of the walls was a large metal slab of a table, easily large enough for Isaac to stretch across without touching either end. Suspended above it was a large awning that Isaac recognized as the industrial-size version of some of the heat lamps he had back at his trailer.
So whoever’s in charge here is used to providing heat. Isaac rolled the thought over in his head with favorable consideration.
Turning his attention from the table, Isaac surveyed the back of the room. In a small nook beyond two security cameras that weren’t even trying to be inconspicuous was a large steel door. There was no handle, only a hatch in the wall next to it that Isaac assumed contained another retinal scanner.
Well now. The has got to be something interesting behind that.
Posted by Calcifer on Apr 17, 2016 13:45:59 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
She dodged, and Isaac’s punch went wide. He felt it graze her a bit, but it wasn’t at all worth the momentum he’d invested behind it. He stumbled forward a few steps, regained his footing, and spun around to face her. Wait, what was she hold-
A train made of thunder and knives slammed into his cheek, whiting out his vision and knocking him to the ground. The barbs couldn’t gain a purchase on his cooled skin, but they contacted the blood and that was enough. Isaac rolled over on the ground, clutching his face where the Taser had struck and groaned through gritted teeth. The ache of the shock wormed in next to the stabbing pain of cut and twisted its way through his head and down his neck.
Slowly, Isaac got to his feet. He look at the girl, then to thief slumped against the wall, then back to the girl again.
**** this. **** it all. The opportunity was gone. He spat on the ground, turned, and stormed out of the alley.
He’d have to finish this later. He’d seen the way the wolf-changeling had reacted to the sight of fire, he’d just need to use it when the girl wasn’t around to take it away. As for the girl- he raised a hand to his cheek- he could take her as long as he didn’t have a weak point cut into him by the thief.
Isaac probed the wound on his face. It was painful, but most of it seemed superficial and the blood was already starting to clot. There was one deep cut, though, that would probably leave a mark. He felt his stomach where he had been kicked: just some scratches on his skin. But his clothing had been torn. Again. He’d have to fix that.
As he rejoined his original route, Isaac thought back to the girl. She was now the second mutant he’d met who had been impervious to his heat. More than impervious, actually: she could steal it. He’d always used his heat as his trump card, but after the fire lizard and now her… maybe he needed to look into carrying a gun.
Posted by Calcifer on Apr 16, 2016 20:16:10 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
Isaac nodded. He could certainly understand Cafas’ hesitation to let him stay. Personally, he wouldn’t trust anyone after spending just a day at the forge with them. Still, he appreciated that he didn’t have to go out in the cold again, at least for tonight.
It appeared that Cafas intended to leave it up to Isaac whether or not to leave the forge running for the night. Isaac decided against that; he had better plans. Finding a bucket dirtied by ash, he filled it with water and scooped the still-burning coke and coal of the forge into the steaming water. He wasn’t really concerned about getting caught in a fire, but the Cafas was right: the fumes would be a problem.
With the forge properly extinguished, Isaac cleared away his workspace while leaving the fans running to remove any remaining carbon monoxide. There were a few times he thought about using his time alone to work on his sword using his own heat, but by now the fatigue was starting to hit him hard, and he wanted to save his energy.
After several minutes, when he felt the room was clear, he picked up the large key and shut off the fans. There was the slow whining as the blades wound down, then the ringing in his ears gradually fading, and then just the quiet bussing of the lights. Isaac crossed to the door, pulled on it to make sure it was shut, and then flicked off the lights.
And then, finally, he burned. Isaac sighed: the day had gone far too long since he used his power. The heat of the forge had been nicer than the typical winter chill, but it couldn’t match his own heat. He burned for as long as his tired muscles allowed, heating the room to a blistering haze, hoping that what Cafas had said about the room holding heat had been right.
This had been a good day; he was properly tired. Finding his clothes by his own light, he bundled his shirt into a pillow, wrapped his coat around him, and fell asleep on the workshop floor.
Posted by Calcifer on Apr 16, 2016 11:35:57 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
Of course she went for the nut shot; it was the move of a coward, someone who knew they couldn’t win on actual strength. She probably expected it to have some sort of effect, too. Isaac merely flinched. He almost laughed: by the time the kick made it through the basalt fiber and insulation of his pants, it didn’t hurt any more than the time he was hit by a motorcycle, and that had hardly hurt at all.
Isaac wiped away the blood oozing from his cheek. Now that hurt, but it was the result of something sharp with a lot of force behind it. As long as this was just a battle of punches and blunt blows, the girl didn’t stand a chance.
Isaac pressed forward with another shot to her jaw, aimed to knock her off balance. He’d seen the way she’d reeled from his first hit; this would be quick.
Posted by Calcifer on Apr 14, 2016 17:34:18 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
Figurative (and perhaps some literal) steam shot from Isaac’s nostrils.
Why you dirty little- his mental categorization of the girl was not kind. Some prissy little princess who got off by making herself look like a better person than anyone else. A glitter and cardboard “angel” who just had to poke her nose into every perceived injustice. And now she was standing in front of him with her hand on her hips in a pose that just screamed “I’m better than you.”
Isaac instantly despised her, but she wasn’t worth his time and he started to turn back around to his actual target. But then she moved her hand, and he felt it:
COLD
Freezing, biting cold ripped the fire from his face and into her hand. The sudden pain of it shocked him, stabbing into the cut on his check and drowning out whatever it was she was saying.
The previous disdain he’d felt toward her froze over into an unmoving monolith of hatred. She was smug, she was pretentious, and she made him cold. Isaac hated the cold more than anything, and she made it WORSE. She moved her hand again, tearing heat from his exposed face and hand.
She needed to be put down.
Swiftly- without a snarky remark or any showiness- Isaac stood and punched her. He didn’t know if there was some secret to knocking a person unconscious with one hit, but he was sure going to try.
Posted by Calcifer on Apr 13, 2016 18:01:58 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
There was another shift of form in front of him and Isaac’s fist once again missed its mark, slamming into the pavement after just grazing the –now human- teen and melting a loose piece of nylon vest.
Squirming, squirming, always squirming you little rat. Get back here! Isaac grasped wildly at the wriggling thief.
And then he felt a tap on his shoulder.
Instinct told him to turn around. Anger told him to grab the wolf shifter. Between the two of them he managed neither, twisting jerkily to the side while clutching vainly at the air. And then it was too late. The teen shoved away and scrambled to his feet. Isaac looked up at his target, now a slight distance away.
@&#$! He knew how this went. Isaac’s face flushed with rage, catching his mask on fire. Again. Spinning around, he glared up through the flames and the haze of anger at whoever had dared to interrupt his vengeance.