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.
Laundry was going as usual for Sara, and James was making her work just as hard as every other day. Forcing her to carry her limit. Currently James was whistling the tune to Rock and Roll heaven in his most manly way. His shoulders were pushed back and his chin held high. Thanks to his time spent with Sara, and the hours beating her a day ago, his ego was sky high. Best part was the feline never showed a mark after wards. Perhaps a little thinner, but who would really care.
Sara was loaded down with the usual basket that was balanced against her hip, and two large sacks of cloths were resting over her opposite shoulder. There were sheets, and extra uniforms currently being delivered, however that wasn’t all Sara had managed to tuck into those sacks. She’d been secretly gathering tools she thought the campers could find useful when the resistance made a move. It they really were going to make a move.
The extra baggage only consisted of some medical masks, Sara had swiped from the infirmary. Neena had been swiping spices from the kitchen to use against the Guards, and Sara had intended to speak to her about making those into a portable way of attacking the guards eyes for the younger inmates. Probably was if they did use the spices, there was also a need to try and shield those mutants, with higher senses like herself, from the effects of the Hovenaro(SP?) spices. She tried to swipe a pair of scissors as well, but just as she was reaching for them, a nurse had approached, making Sara’s hand dart for a cabinet instead to replace the towels there. Another opportunity hadn’t arisen there again, but that didn’t matter. Sara had already made an, ever growing, collection, that included Rupert’s ipod. She would have a chance to return and try again in a day or so.
Next stop was the guard barracks. James opened to door and walked through, strolling through without looking back at the feline mutant. Sara managed to stick leg in the door’s way just before it closed and latched again. Her hip pushed against the frame, and with a bump from her tail side, managed to get herself in. No help from James. As usual.
He led her into another room. One of the other guard barracks, where he was supposed to keep a close watch on her while she changed the sheets. Instead James had become too confident and turned his back on her in order to better examine his reflection in a mirror. Today’s self inspections seemed to mostly include his ears. Every now and then his eyes flicked in the direction of Sara’s reflection. However, his attention turned more and more to himself.
Sara had just removed the old sheet, when something solid wrapped in something soft landed on the floor. She looked down to see an extra remote to the collars and cuffs. James hadn’t seemed to notice. She was just about to pick it up when the door opened. Again she changed direction with the move. Pushing the devise under one of her sacks with her foot, while gathering a clean, fresh sheet from the basket.
Mathew walked slowly, a guard at his side. He remembered what Jeminai had told him... the graveyard and the guards' barracks. Well, he was doing a few days a week at the graveyard, on his way now to find out how he'd be spending the rest of his free time - he wondered what the guards actually did around here. There were so many people who floated about and looked official, but for the life of him he never saw anything get done. It seemed to be the sole purpose of the guards to just... stand there and look menacing. Now he knew that that's what guards were generally good at, but surely that's not all they were good at? The guard next to him was making small talk, and he seemed a nice enough man under the circumstances. Mathew was still going to kill him, however. The small time he'd spent in the camps had already taken its toll on his moral disposition. Watching the way the mutants were treated, he'd started to draw a distinction in his mind: Homo Sapiens Sapiens and Homo Superior. The former were petty, greedy and jealous of the power the latter had. It seemed to him that the whole world must be this way... or they didn't have a problem with it, certainly. Otherwise, surely there would have been protests against the treatments the 'mutants' were being subjected to? Yes, they liked the fact that their petty little species was still top of the foodchain. He couldn't help but wonder how long that would last... he knew as well as anyone that one couldn't keep true power caged for long, not without overspill. The mutants would overspill, and soon. He could feel it in his bones. If everything worked out, hell, he was going to be leading the way! The guard reached forward and opened the door to the barracks. Mathew stepped in. He recoiled slightly... there was a very large cat on the floor. He raised an eyebrow, and couldn't help but wonder - was she mainly human, primarily cat or an equal hybrid of the two? There was also a guard in this room, staring at a mirror.
"Here for barracks duty, James." Mathew's guard said. The one called James jumped and spun, his eyes wide and embarrassed.
"Uh, oh, y-yeah, sure Buck."
Mathew's eyes darted back and forth, etching the names and faces of each guard into his long term memory. He stepped forward and appraised the room, wondering if he should start anywhere, wait for orders or just stand there and look pretty.
Sara glanced up when the two figures walked into the room. Making her feel a little crowded. She hated small spaces. Especially small spaces with them. Mutants were growing on her, they were ok, but it was hard to get past some things. Especially when most so closely resembled, them.
She felt a new set of eyes on her and Sara shifted on her feet. Streching so that she stood the full 6 foot tall, as she unfolded the new bed sheets. For once working intentionally slower then she had all morning. This man, boy, mutant, was new to her. Someone she wanted a chance to at least have an introduction to. Was her job to start rallying people anyways and chances to communicate freely beyond code, if he even new the code, were few and far between. Not to mention, unless he was a good liar, Sara could listen to his heart beat and respiration if he gave her any information. Hell, she could even smell if he started sweating more. Not even lie detectors made by the US government could do that. Unless he was a experienced in fibs, she’d decide exactly how trust worthy he was. (Up to you on if you want Sara to know some things. I’ll change things if you need me to.)
Sara hated this. She immediately grew disgusted with herself for the thinking her suspicions of him. She reminded herself everyone got the same treatment and it wasn’t just herself she was watching out for but that didn’t make her any happier.
James was working to recover his lost dignity by the far corner of the room. His right hand smoothed his hair back, because freshly smoothed hair makes every situation look a lot cooler, and he painted on his greasy looking smile. “Hey, Buck. You need a break? I mean it’s not like two guards are needed to guard one room. Right?” While talking James talked he raised his hand in the high five position waiting for Bucks hand to return the favor. Buck didn’t and all major cool points were lost while James was left hangin’.
“Um…. Right then. Well I’ll take a break then. Baby sittin’ the feline’s made me thirsty.” He horridly stepped for the door. Right hand darked to his front pocket where he pulled up three cigarettes he intended on smoking on his break, and tucked all three behind his ear.
(OOC - Hey Were, I've gotta' be fair - there's no way Fever could fool supersenses. He can lie with the best of them, but after all he's only mutant. Lol I'll leave it up to you discretion as to exactly how much she can pick up.)
Mathew watched the cigarettes eagerly, his eyes as hungry as his lungs. He had to resist the urge of licking his lips... Gah! He stepped forward as James made his way past them and the two collided. Mathew recoiled meekly and held his eyes low. James seemed to catch on to his vulnerability and take sudden joy from it.
"Yeah, that's right! You watch where you're going, I'm boss around here."
Mathew nodded at him and kept his gaze trained on the floor.
In that case you can suffer the first apoplexy, sir. He thought sadistically.
James left and buck went to stand in the corner, speaking as he went.
"Alright, Fever," he said, using the nickname the guards had given him, "start helping the lady and go from there." He said amiably.
Mathew nodded and looked back at the catwoman. He raised an eyebrow... gosh, she was tall.
"Hello." Mathew said as he took the initiative and began taking the sheets off the guard's bunks. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the remote on the floor. His eyes lost their naive softness and the glittering, macabre intelligence shone out like a beacon. He looked at Buck in the corner, then back at the remote, then at the catwoman. He kept himself silent, turning slowly to the bunk and folding the sheet into a tidy square.
"My name's Mathew," he said, if only to stop the guard from becoming suspicous. What he was really saying was, keep it quiet and we'll get it out of here somehow.
That remote could be a great help to him. A great help indeed... to assert his dominance over the others, he'd have to have something which gave him power over them. He didn't like the idea of ruling with an iron fist, he was much more into suggesting. However, his situation at the momemt brooked no compromise. Plus, despite the fact that he looked like a schoolboy he was probably the person best equipped to lead this ragtag band of misfits out of the camps. From the camps into a New Age... the Age of the Homo Superior. That's where the world was headed. He may as well start with the camps. He had a high, happy feeling in his chest. Discreetly, he pulled out the cigarette he'd stolen from James during their little collision. Oh, glory be, glory be... now he just had to figure out a way to light it.
(ok. I don’t normally play the lie detector card, just using it now for Sara to decide a few things IC)
Sara nodded as she was greeted. Her head turned enough to keep the guard in her peripheral vision, but already she sensed some sort of red flag. There was something about the change in this boy’s expression. The mental map in Sara’s head followed his gaze and with out looking down she realized he was looking at the remote she had found.
Well he hadn’t said anything. “Hello, and Mathew is a better name then Fever.” She gave a smirk before continuing her work. She dismissed the red flags and with the tip of her tail, pushed the remote into the open sack at her feet. Acting like nothing was happening so as to not draw any attention from the guard now standing watch. She had plans for that remote. Now just to get one of the collars. If the resistance ever made a move, she had plans for at least one of the guards. (Inspiration from Neena.)
She took the dirty sheet now that it was folded so tightly. “Thank you.” The sheet was stuffed into the sack at her feet and she used the stuffing motion to position the remote towards the middle of the sack. “my name’s Sara.”
If you’re really with me, I’ll help you.
Sara still was trying to decide exactly how much information to give.
“Hello, and Mathew is a better name then Fever.” She said with a smile. It was peculiar to watch. He'd heard the expression, make a cat laugh. He'd never thought he'd be the one to do it, however.
He shook his head, amused. "It's something one of the guards said a while ago. It king of circulated and stuck."
He watched, amazed, as he tail flitted forward with all the grace of a serpent and swept the remote into the bag. He cursed. Shit! He wanted that. Cool and instant, he decided that he'd have to play along. Besides, she looked half capable. Perhaps she'd be useful.
“Thank you.” She said, looking at the sheet before proceeding to shove in into the sack after the remote. “my name’s Sara.”
Mathew looked over at the guard as he reached up to pull the sheet off the top bunk. He wondered, for what purpose did she need the collar? Was she collecting also? Was she willing to share? Mathew was, by all means, selfish, greedy and arrogant. However, he was also intelligent. If it meant allying himself with her, then that's the direction he'd go in. He decided to test the waters.
"It's alright," He said, inclining his head towards the sack, "I'm used to doing things like that. I used to... fold sheets a lot on the outside. It's second nature to me," he said with a sweet smile, "I wonder, do you collect all the sheets in the camp? And if you do, do you do the laundry, or is there someone else who puts them to use?"
"It's alright, I'm used to doing things like that. I used to... fold sheets a lot on the outside.
Did he work at a laundry mat on the out side or something? Oh right the code. This code was getting tiring and it didn’t help that her mind would top jumping to different things.
So he was another thief. Why did it seem like there were a higher percentag3e of mutants Sara knew as thieves suddenly? Either way that was a good thing and he could still prove to be an asset. Even if Sara wasn’t sure how far to trust him yet.
"I wonder, do you collect all the sheets in the camp? And if you do, do you do the laundry, or is there someone else who puts them to use?"
Sara debated for a moment on how much to tell him. Names could come later and if he hung around and stayed as attentive he would figure that out. He’d seen her swipe the remote after all and while she was hiding it from the angle the guard was at, one still had to be attentive.
“There are a few others assigned laundry duty.” Sara replied simply. Perhaps she would swipe some paper again to draw his face. To give Neena a heads up on another thief. “Call it a team effort. Where one leaves off or misses something, the other can pick up the slack in the work load.”
She smoothed part of the sheet on the bed, then ducked down on the other side, hear the basket of laundry. She stood back up holding a stack of clean towels for the bathroom. There were two energy bars placed within the folds and she made sure those were in the part of the towel that touched Fever’s hands first. Clearly food that wasn’t from the inside of the camps. Thanks to Doug’s care packages. “Could you put these in the bathroom for me?”
"Yes, of course." He said, feeling something in the towels but not entirely sure as to what they were. He brought to towels close to himself and held them in his arms. Well now, this was working out to be intriguing. His interest was, as they say, piqued. He wanted to know more... hm. This seemed to be a bartering scenario. Fortunately, he had thing with which to barter.
"You know what I've always wondered," he said with a furtive glance over at Buck, "and perhaps you can clear it up for me. When you're bleaching towels, obviously one must wear rubber gloves. But would the lack of those result in the need of bandages?"
He laughed a little as he passed her to make his way to the bathroom, or to the door he presumed led to the bathroom. "I expect you'd need someone to plod along to check you with a stethoscope too!" He said with a grin. He looked over at Buck, who was rocking on his feet, his hands behind his back.
"I didn't realize bleaching towels could be so hazzardous, did you Buck?"
Buck grinned goofily. "That's why we leave it to the women, right Fever?" He said, his buckteeth sticking out a mile. Mathew smiled derisively and raised an eyerbrow. What a wanker.
"Too right, Bucko."
He kept the scissors to himself for the time being. They were his trophy, his prized possession. The uses they could be put to were infinite.
Sara gave a shrug. “Gloves have been brought to us, and the rest we just manage.” She looked at fever giving him a wink with the eye that was obscured from Buck by the angle of her head. “And you are naive to think the guards here allow us girls the luxury of bleach. Bleach was a potential danger to them if used the wrong way. Sara would definitely use it the wrong way. Give her a syringe or two and there would be several guards she’d inject with the stuff.
A grin flashed across her face at that thought. Perhaps she would steal some from the infirmary next time. Only place she’d smelled the stuff.
What she gave him was a gift. One could call it a peace offering but she didn’t expect anything in return for it. Although it was nice to know he was gathering things as well.
As he went with the towels she was pushing the sheets under the mattress. Thanks to Shrapnel, before he escaped, he had supplied Neena with bandages and ointments. Rubber gloves were easy to come by. And the other stuff…. Maybe she should ask Neena what he had put away.
(OOC - If anyone is effected the issues I'm about to describe, PM me. There will be nothing more said about it, the post will be modified and the PM will be confidential.)
“And you are naive to think the guards here allow us girls the luxury of bleach."
Mathew hadn't seen the wink she'd given him, seeing as he was on his way to the bathroom. His head shot back at her and he sneered; he had a good mind to kick her in the teeth, as hard as he could manage. Who was she to talk to him like that? Who the fuck was she to take the piss out of him?
He looked back at the door he was headed to clenched his teeth. Fucking, stupid, beastly cat thing. Fucking whore!!!
He closed his eyes and held his mouth closed as hard as he could, focusing on the pain - it was getting harder, so much harder, to control himself. He wasn't just a moody teenager - he was a moody mutant teenager, and the bouts of rage he was being subjected to was really doing a number on his mental wellbeing. The anger was like a little knot in his chest, and he just wanted to turn around and... and kick her, and stick his thumbs in her eyes and watch as he destroyed her eyesight, watching his thumbs dig in... and she'd scream, and he'd shout back at her and kick her again..
Shit! He bit down hard on his tongue and escaped hastily into the bathroom, not trusting himself to reply.
He fell against the door and started hyperventilating, trying to banish the images of her gruesome torture form his mind. He screwed his face up and let out a silent scream, bringing his hands up to claw at his face, arching off the door and pulling at his hair. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, struggling to contain his fury. He wanted to hit something, to smash it, destroy it... he wanted chaos, he wanted to rip Buck's tongue from his head, he wanted to plunge into a pit of glass and punch at it, attack the glass, watch the blood spurt...
Towels abandoned as a meaningless heap on the floor, he pulled his left trouserleg up and ripped at the bloodstained badage there. Tied tightly to his leg with the white cloth were the scissors. He pulled them from the cloth and tore the bandage loose, opening the scissors and digging a point into his leg. He gasped at the pain, then he ran the makeshift blade up his calf and made a long cut. The blood dripped onto the floor, but he felt an instant relief. He closed his eyes and regulated his breathing, feeling free from the rage and the hate. This was the only way, to hurt himself, it kept him in control. He relaxed for a while, breathing deep. Breath in four seconds, hold it four seconds, breath out four seconds. Despite the pain and the shame he felt at his inability to control his urges, he felt somewhat elated. He'd done it. He'd stopped his power. He didn't really want to go out and face the two people now, not after the thoughts he'd had about them, such horrible macabre thoughts. Did they know how much danger they were in, with him there? He got up shakily and tried his best to reapply the bandage tightly, putting the scissors back in place. He opened a cupboard and deposited the towels, looking down as two little rectangles dropped onto the floor. Snack bars? Not really wanting to think about food at the minute, but knowing he couldn't leave them there, he bent down and retrieved them, tucking them into his trousers.
"Fever, what're you doing in there?" He heard Buck call.
He stammered a little, then rallied. "I'm just using the toilet! Sorry." He lied smoothly, then rushed to flush it whilst he made his best attempt to clear the blood on the floor.
Somewhat composed but not really wanting to reenter the room, he mentally tried to will his hands from shaking and he opened the door.
He didn't want to hurt her. Buck, he deserved it - he knew what was going on and he allowed it. But the mutant woman? She was the very person he was trying to protect... Biting back tears, he tried to evade the question his own mind was putting forth.
Sara watched him disappear into the bathroom. Continuing her work unaware exactly of the mental struggle going on. The only hint was of the increased heart beat but she’d written that off as nerves from her having just handed him something at first.
There was about a 30 second count before the scent of fresh blood made its’ way to her nose from under the door. Why was blood involved suddenly? She glanced sideways at Buck who had immediately become agitated. No time to really question much. The guard had clearly counted off the seconds as well and was measuring the time is his head that it took to deposit fresh towels.
The smell of the blood had clearly not been picked up by Bucky. Someone who was doing his job, Sara reminded herself. Buck strolled closer to the door and Sara stepped in his way. Trying to act as though she was continuing the work. A closet right in front of the bathroom door was opened and she immediately stuck her head inside. Making herself busy with the uniforms. Buck halted an inch from Sara. His cheeks starting to turn colors. Two more seconds and he would explode.
(your post is just fine for me and I'm so sorry this is short.)
He stepped out of the bathroom and collected himself, going slightly red when he saw Buck and Sara, trying to avoid their eyes. He mentally shook his head - there was nothing he could do about it now. If he let himself get that way then he'd never accomplish anything in this hellhole, not if he let shame get the better of him. So he'd thought about slaughtering them. The thoughts digusted him now, but he reasoned that it wasn't really him thinking it... it was like he had some disorder. Yes, some kind of mutant disorder. He wasn't going crazy. No way. He didn't care what the doctors said, back in England. He wasn't crazy. He wasn't.
He smiled at Buck and Sara, tapping his stomach. This served two purposes: to humour Buck at his time spent in the toilet and to let the woman know that he'd secreted the bars away.
"Camp food goes right through me," He said to Buck with a smile full of cameraderie. Buck chuckled and shook his head, then went to walk back to the corner.
"I've put the towels away," He said to Sara as he went back to continue removing the dirty sheets and folding them, "Anything else you need me to do, just ask." He said the last meaningfully, then he looked back at Buck. Time to further his own agenda.
"So Buck, you got any friends in this five-star?" He said whilst folding one more sheet and putting it on a pile for Sara.
"In here? Yeah, sure, if you call backstabbing juveniles friends." He said jovially.
Mathew chuckled. "So tell me about it. You know, I don't get much social interaction in here. Even if it's just hearing about someone else's life, it's better than nothing." He said with a definitive shake of his head.
He listened intently and tried to catch Sara's eye, giving her a "take notice" look. Just like when he'd brought Mathew to the barracks, Buck started to ramble and go on tangents about the varoius men in the camps, which ones were mutants, which ones were mean. Mathew listed every last name in his head, silently promising each man his comeuppance.
He flinched slightly as he put weight on the lacerated leg. He wasn't going crazy. He felt like screaming that from the top of a building, to let everyone know. He just wanted poeple to know. He wasn't crazy.... he wasn't...
She nodded. He’d gotten the food ahe’d given him then. There was still a look of concern on her face though. The blood smelled so fresh and it lingered on him when he moved. The movement of his limp drew Sara’s instincts tight. The very cat instincts that used such abilities to see movement for hunting and food, translated fast to ways of seeing who of her fellow camp residents were injured and where based on their stride.
She glanced at Buck trying to make the concerned face look more like she was worried about what the guard would do to her. As if she suddenly realized she was in his way. HA. Like she really cared about her own possible pain.
She nodded as Fever had asked about how the other guards were doing. Taking the time to fluff the pillows, change the pillow cases, then fluff them again. She found it funny that the guard referred to the back stabbing part. She’d already played that card a little bit. What with the theft of Rupert’s ipod and how she so quickly pointed the blame ant good ol’ James. That was fun and perhaps she could do that some more. Maybe even make some needed distractions.
Sara quietly listened to the names and the different descriptions. Immediately multitasking with how she could play with different individuals. Some she desired to play with more then others. Clearly deserving her special attention that only a cat with very sharp claws can provide.
She caught sight of something like a flinch in Mathew’s face. Around his eyes. Her head tilted as Buck went on now listing people on his fingers that were in different groups. Her head tilted mouthing, ‘you ok?’
"And then, of course, you have James," Buck was saying. Mathew was listening intently, nodding occasionally as he folded the sheets, "James, man, he's on a trip. I mean, he just..." Mathew tuned out as Buck resumed his verbal diarrhea. He wasn't particularly interested... he knew all about James. Peculiar specimen, he thought.
He caught Sara's face while he was placing yet another sheet on the pile. She mouthed something at him, though it was hard to tell exactly what she was saying with her unusual facial structure. He frowned and leant in closer, pretending to move the sheets.
Ah. She wanted to know if he was okay. Hmm... what to tell her? That he was stabbing himself to stop from going beserk in this place? He looked back at Buck, hating the restrictions in this room. It was bad enough that he had to play this stupid, insensible creature all the livelong day, but to have to do it whilst being covert too was just ludicrous, particularly because he also wanted to know exactly what she needed the collar for and what she meant by implying that she wasn't alone in her collecting.
He huffed and sat back on his knees. Buck was still rambling, this time about some randy guard who caught rash and had to visit the infirmary, though he went on to say that he wasn't the only one to catch rash, it was quite a mystery, and no, of course he didn't have it! Mathew only noted the name of the guard and the fact that he was randy. That was all he needed to know - if only he could explain as much to Buck.
He raised an eyebrow, watching the man's mouth move. All the while his brain was clicking away like a little clock, tick tick tick. He'd always likened his brain to a clock - the pretty face hid the complex machinations within, the cogs and screws and precise movements. He was thinking, thinking... thoughts were passing through his mind as if it were a conveyor belt, and little metal arms picked up each idea and examined it, and threw into into the reject box when it proved to be useless to him. He stroked his chin whilst watching Buck talk, and his face took on a dangerous look, a look which was eerily macabre and blatantly terrifying at the same time. Buck was too busy venting his frustrations about the other guards to notice. If only he knew, he'd look and see this expression... and he'd feel like a man who's immediate future included the snip and euthenasia, in that order. He'd feel little more signifigant than a stray dog, at the very least.
Mathew hopped up, mind set, and he made his way to the bathroom again in a rush, clutching his stomach. He was gone for about a minute, Buck ignoring him as a man with whom the camp food was playing havoc.
When he returned to the main room, his entrance was preceded by the flushing of the toilet. He sat back down on the floor and caught Sara's eye. He didn't bother hiding his true nature - the sinister thing which hid behind his face every day was prominent and proud, and he wondered if she'd flinch when she saw the disturbed menace behind his eyes.
His expression, eyes flitting back and forth form Buck to her, was saying:
Grab his attention.
After this he began to scrub the floor, his face enveloped suddenly in a visage of utter innocence and inner peace, as if the awful denizen which was his mind had never shown its macabre face.
Sara tilted her head as she saw Mathew rush back in the bathroom. His guard thinking nothing of it and probably only expecting her to be nose because of her odd look at the closed door.
Again there was a strong sent. Her nose wrinkled over and over again as she continued her work. Intending still on taking her time. When he returned there was something a little different about the way he held himself. His eyes. Oh he was sly. This look put him at the bottom of the list in Sara’s mind, for those that would be told when the resistance arrived.
Sara gave her head a tiny nod. Pressing her lips together. She wasn’t quite surprised for some reason. Things were too fishy with the smell of fresh blood and all but she wasn’t exactly happy either. She respected honesty, even when she was almost never fully honest. Ok. She was honest but she specialized in stretching the truth and dropping important faqs from conversations.
OK she got the message from the head motions. A distraction. Right. This was going to be hard. Well maybe not. Buck was of the male gender after all. Sara may not be as shapely as she was when she came into the camps but how much would it take? Unless Buck didn’t like ladies.
She strolled over to the far corner, facing the wall where to bag was, and bent down. Giving the guard a good view of her tail side. So what was he supposed to do other then check her out a little bit. Sure she had fur but the general shake of her was appealing… Well it must have been since his eyes drifted over to her tail’s direction and his on going list slowed it’s progress out his mouth… finally going to nothing but a moving lip with no sound.