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.
Posted by Tempest on Apr 13, 2017 21:09:07 GMT -6
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>> "I can be very precise."
Devon nodded slowly. “Just so we’re clear, you can be precise if you need or want to. You shouldn’t need to now. Your power is the tool, not you,” he nodded. “Anyone tells you different, I’m on your side. You’re your own person.” Her power was dangerous; she was dangerous. Anyone who had to live a life wondering how you’d be used was dangerous.
She’d made it a survival mechanism.
He nodded again about the erasure. Yeah that sounded right based on the report he’d read. Tempest couldn’t imagine losing such pockets of his life. Memory made you whom you were. You needed memory to build experience and experience to build wisdom. We based our personality of some basic precepts including our memory of our own reactions and others to stimuli. What a pain to constantly relearn.
Then she asked for her name.
Normally Devon had amazing control and composure, but after all the things she’d said and referred to that was one he couldn’t hold down. Her name? He likely looked stunned a moment before the young man swallowed hard, visibly disturbed. Those blue eyes became mirrored glass over a cool ocean.
>> I would like to have a reminder of who I am."
“Yes,” Devon said, clearing his throat. “Of course. That’s more than reasonable. Smart.” He picked up the sharpie and wrote her name on her wrist, ensuring it was readable from her orientation and not his. He exhaled a bit quickly but purposely focused and steadied his breathing as he wrote. Putting the sharpie down, he went for another drink of water.
She asked about his power. I mean that was the common mutant conversation right. He was happy to share; he knew about her power after all. It was simply right she’d ask and he’d reply.
Devon picked up the sharpie again, wagged it a few times, then set it down as he grinned. Black, inky darkness swam from the edges of his eyes in tiny rivulets before flooding through the pupil and then the sclera. He focused on the comparative temperature of the air as the sun beat down and the cool breezes coming from the ocean. With intended thought they competed off the patio creating a gust to disturb the American flag waving in the garden area below. It danced and spun and then reversed direction before returning to a gentle wave.
“I can control the weather. When I purposely change things my eyes turn all black. Sometimes, when I want to be discrete, I wear the sunglasses. However, I’m openly known to be a mutant,” Devon nodded. “That doesn’t mean everyone around me knows and sometimes it’s worth being discrete.”
Devon smiled, his eyes running through with brilliant azure. Holding a hand aloft he pointed a finger skyward, “And this is still real. I didn’t change this. It’s actually just a beautiful day.”
Posted by Noel on Apr 13, 2017 22:23:18 GMT -6
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Did she do something wrong? Noel hesitated with her wrist held out, the hand dropping a fraction with her confusion. He looked as if he was going to cry now. That wasn't right.
"Hey. I know." The translator was probably going to botch that one up. She would have pat him on the head if she didn't think that would come off as condescending. Instead she just sat still, unwilling to take her arm or her request back. "It's not pretty, but it makes the days different. The marker fades a little bit at a time. I'll get someone else to write something new next time." Because she had a feeling that there would be a next time. That sent a thrill up her spine. There would almost certainly be a next time.
And Hadden did it just right. The ink stank like chemicals and Noel blew on her wrist to make sure it was dry before she did anything else. Noel. She touched the letters with no small amount of reverence. She was going to decide who Noel was this time.
Ooooh. He did a thing with the wind that gave Noel goosebumps. She had to grab onto her hair with one hand and her silverware with her other before they both flew away.
"I see the eye thing now. Seems like a lot of powers have a tell. You'll see my pupils go back and forth like a rattlesnake tail." She demonstrated with her hand. "You said you help mutants here so you've probably seen all kinds." That comment reminded Noel of her earlier questions. She still wasn't sure what was to become of her.
"So. This is like a recovery spot? I got remitted from the state?" The sun returned in time for Noel to finish her food. She'd seemingly put Hadden off of his— she hadn't seen him touch it in a while. Her own lunch was suddenly not sitting so comfortably. "What happens when the vacation is over?"
Posted by Tempest on Apr 18, 2017 16:55:43 GMT -6
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>> “…I'll get someone else to write something new next time."
Devon wasn’t sure what that meant. She wouldn’t want her name written next time? Maybe her last name? He let the comment go, hoping later conversation would clarify. It seemed wise to get some tattoos if she was okay with permanence.
She asked about his mutation and he showed her an example of making wind gusts. He was glad she responded favorably; most did but you knew especially someone relearning interactions. This was clearly no normal person even with her ability. She had well trained herself.
>> "I see the eye thing now. Seems like a lot of powers have a tell...”
Devon nodded. That was true. Few were the mutants who had an ability with some sort of manifestation or tell. It was interesting to hear her pupils would shake. And yes, he nodded again when she mentioned helping many mutants. He’d seen many things, especially at Sanctuary.
>> "What happens when the vacation is over?"
Another nod went to the first question as Devon put down his water, having finished it again. “Yep, recovery. Treatment, addiction, stress relief, but also training… The mutant help isn’t a secret but that training facility is. Some need greater assistance. When it’s over we’ll find you a job or something?” he asked, lifting his hands.
“All patients here are invited to join our partner organization, Haven. It’s about self-help and further training to contribute to bigger changes in society. I’m sure we could hire you if you want to work for them. We do a lot of outreach, education, charity work including for mutant causes. Mutants are members, openly,” he nodded. “But if you want to move to California or something, we’ll figure out how to get you set up safely and stably.”
Posted by Noel on Apr 19, 2017 10:50:44 GMT -6
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Treatment, addiction, stress relief, training... Stress relief? Sure. Who wouldn't sign up for that? And she was used to training. She needed it to keep up her acquired skills... Except that maybe she wasn't supposed to have those any more? Treatment didn't sound optional. She was pretty sure addiction would be a service more for others, unless she was meant to detox off of Diet Coke too.
Noel folded her arms, realized that was uncomfortable, and then unfolded them and returned to just holding her side again. There was no comfortable way to be, but it wasn't killing her (otherwise she would still be at the hospital, right?) so she resolved to ignore it as best as she was able.
"Where am I going to find a job?" She asked deadpan, without guile, . He might have known her power set, but he didn't know what she did to earn her keep. She'd thought that this was job like the ones she'd come to expect, at first. And he sort-of offered her a position, assuming that she graduated or whatever people did here. But "outreach, education, charity work" were almost certainly foreign territory for Noel.
She could only stare and frown for so long. Why would she move to California? She didn't have any attachments. Period. Full stop.
"I don't think I'm cut out for the self-help life." She would cross that job bridge when she got there. If she got there.
Posted by Tempest on Apr 23, 2017 6:48:51 GMT -6
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“I wouldn’t worry about the job part right now,” Devon shook his head. “If you aren’t interested in something else, I’m sure we can find something within your interests here or with the organization; one of the Havens will have something for you.”
Truth be told he’d already thought maybe she’d like to help with Haven’s mutant interests, but you didn’t suggest that to someone whom you didn’t quite know and was still re-learning about the world around her. If what Natalie said was true, then who knows.
“Going back to the idea,” Devon said, letting the phone catch up and the speakers to relay, “This can be a vacation for you. Learn what you need to, heal up, have some fun even,” he nodded. “You seem extremely resourceful and well-adjusted to dealing with the ramifications of your mutation. Provided you don’t attack anyone again, I understand you’ve seemingly been put in some very difficult circumstances and been treated poorly, wrongly,” he nodded again.
Posted by Noel on Apr 23, 2017 21:02:13 GMT -6
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She shouldn't worry about the job. He was right. But it was so much a part of who she felt that she was that Noel found it impossible to drop the subject without fretting it through at least once more. Noel's eyebrows dropped behind her sunglasses while she puzzled silently.
Hadden, meanwhile, moved on.
This was vacation, provided that she did not attack anyone. She'd already explained that she was in control of herself. Now she just had to prove that. That would take time and continued non-aggression. Designating time to learn and recover seemed prudent as well. Infuriating, but necessary.
She did not pout, pouting was something that Noel did not do, but she was disappointed. She was physically incapable of carrying on as she usually did in these types of situations.
"On one hand, the hurt is a good thing." She admitted. "Vacation is a little bit mandatory at this point." She couldn't showcase what she could do. She wasn't allowed to use her mutation beyond what was passive. She was stuck for a short while, doomed to live a temporary life of idleness.
"I am interested in... ancient civilizations?" Sort of, anyway. "I've met two mutants who were effectively immortal. As it turns out, it's not easy to keep track of your memories when you have so many and I was able to help. That means I've seen ancient Greece and ancient China, in my own way." Yes. That was a safe way to put that.
Posted by Tempest on Apr 26, 2017 22:04:54 GMT -6
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>> "On one hand, the hurt is a good thing." She admitted. "Vacation is a little bit mandatory at this point."
Devon smirked and nodded, “Yes, I’m sorry about that. We can get you something to help you sleep if you need it. If you need any physical training or rehabilitation we’ve got that too.”
His eyes brightened at the talk of ancient civilizations. He didn’t hold back his interest, leaning forward and his smile brightening. A few words weren’t translated as well as he hoped – and he realized now that rehab might not have been either – but enough came across. Immortal mutants? All was possible, but wow that was something.
Ancient Greece and China were dreams of yesterday, ancient even to ancient people. He longed to learn more about America before the Europeans came to conquer and steal. He wanted to know what the ancient celts were like. The Egyptian dynasties… So much history and knowledge sat before him.
“That’s truly amazing,” Devon said with great excitement and exuberance. “I wish I had something like that to offer you. Maybe you wouldn’t mind writing up something about them? I’d love to read them, or we can just talk over lunches,” he chuckled. “You must have extremely useful abilities for information gathering, no wonder you’ve been used and abused in that way. Did you want to talk about that?” his brow knit in concern, his voice calming and softening.
Posted by Noel on Apr 28, 2017 9:40:01 GMT -6
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They would have to settle the pain issue when they got there. For now, Noel felt exhausted and a bit cranky, but she was at least trying to be nice and inoffensive. She understood that what happened at the hospital was... less than ideal for all parties involved.
"I do not want to become addicted to narcotics. I don't want to even want that to be an option. That would compromise—" She stopped and let the translator run because she was unsure of what she was trying to explain here. Would it compromise her integrity? Noel tried to explain from a different angle. "Pain is an okay reminder. If it keeps me from rest and recovery, I'll try something different." She conceded the point. She was stubborn, but not prideful. There wasn't room for ego with her power set.
Hadden suggested that Noel write some of the histories in her head down.
"It didn't occur to me that I could, but I can imagine how valuable it might be if even some of the details could be verified." Her stolen memories from the immortals were, perhaps an archeological dig of its own kind. She'd considered going to a museum to see if she could help, but assumed that no one would want her to lick the artifacts. Besides, the chances of someone being alive who had used those items was extremely unlikely.
Hadden branched from that thought and followed its natural root back to her abilities. Except, he kept trying to find a way for this to be a stumbling block.
"Why is it abuse? I use the skills give to me. I find work in line with my skills. There are potential consequences, good and bad, from every action. I tried my best to put failsafes in place, but it didn't work out. I was lucky enough to end up here so that I can re-evaluate and adjust for next time." She could never know it all until she was on the other side, of course, but the idea that she had been coerced into this life...? "Look, it's impossible to not empathize with the memories I take in. They're mine; it feels like it's me when I have them. And there are very few people that I have met that are the villain of their own story."
Posted by Tempest on May 2, 2017 11:21:41 GMT -6
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>> "I do not want to become addicted to narcotics. I don't want to even want that to be an option. That would compromise—"
Devon nodded in agreement with her when those words were spoken by the translator. He understood completely. Plenty of people came here for prescription addictions, including pain killers. He half smiled and nodded reluctantly at her follow up comment.
He hoped she’d write some of her stories down. He nodded encouragingly at the prospect and the idea of further detail than any history book provided. It’d be an interesting exercise to compare hose details anyway if nothing else.
>> “…And there are very few people that I have met that are the villain of their own story."
“I agree, that’s why I started this business and the Haven organization,” Devon nodded. “It’s abusive if you are forced into that life, if your absent memory was utilized to put you in that position. If you want to use your skills to gather information, then that’s your choice although legality I’m sure comes up,” he chuckled. “But there are good reasons to do some of the things we do, even if they seem wrong. Like you said, few are the villain of their own story. Your perspective can help see that. Options here help people review those stories, I guess.”
He cleared his throat with a smile, “And Haven helps improve others stories. Some don’t have options and they take whatever seems possible at the time. That tends to come down to survival. You seem to have built your life approach based on that same survivability. I commend you for it, but I want you to have options of your own choosing and then your own making.”
> "...if your absent memory was utilized to put you in that position."
Oh. Noel frowned behind her sunglasses.
"It's difficult to do because I can taste the truth." Except for Panu who communicated a bit indirectly thanks to technology. And except for phone calls and texts and emails and phone reminders and calendar events... all of which were her main forms of communication for business.
Noel frowned more. Now she was starting to call into question even more of her interactions. She'd had mostly neutral interactions with Jaager besides the whole attempted choking her to death part... and the not-date that turned into guerilla warfare with some would-be kidnappers. Okay. Maybe Jaager wasn't a good example, but she had so, so many good memories with Panu. He was one of the only people who understood the value in being able to remove bits of your own memory on purpose.
"I may have been overconfident in my ability to judge people, especially where technology is concerned..." And, surprisingly, that realization hurt. She trusted readily when people were honest with her and she'd thought that their interactions were honest... Noel looked at her wrist to check, but... yes. She was still Noel.
She was used to change and rolling with the unexpected, but this was an absolute paradigm shift. Could she operate entirely without a phone?
"I should find somebody who knew me before all this." The translator sounded carefully neutral when Noel felt anything but. Then slumped back against her lounge and closed her eyes against the sun despite her shades. The sun was warm and she could just barely make out the lapping of the salty water one story below. It should have been relaxing.
"You said there might be someone to check in with..." Maybe that's what she'd have to do for the rest of her life. She just had to make sure she had someone like a caseworker. Like the mentally handicapped.
Posted by Tempest on May 3, 2017 22:05:21 GMT -6
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>> "It's difficult to do because I can taste the truth."
Devon nodded. That made sense, but surely there were ways around that. Enough fast talking or mixed half-truths and things were likely to get muddled. Take her out for strong, spicy food and it likely got difficult to tell the truth. She’d mentioned earlier bland food for first conversations. He worried what others had manipulated her into.
Her frowned deepened and Devon’s face turned into one of reluctance and apology. His eyes were sorry but a hopeful small smile tried to inspire something beyond the questioning concern.
>> “…especially where technology is concerned..."
“Ah, yes I imagine technology can make it difficult,” he nodded again. “Likely hard to believe anything that you don’t hear and even then, some people are good at twisting words. Doesn’t mean you can’t listen or read and make a judgement call; people without your ability have to do that all the time. Maybe it’s more a matter of reviewing those comments.”
He nodded once more in agreement of finding someone who knew her before all this started, before she was used or chose or whatever this life. She leaned back – seemingly in defeat from what he was getting of her personality – and savor the sun. Sometimes you needed a moment of reflection. >>"You said there might be someone to check in with..."
“Yes, well there’s me for one,” Devon offered, “As well as an associate of mine that works for Haven. She has an ability to hold secrets and make a binding between those that swear it so that if one informs others of the secret, all those in the bind know. She can likely help you; I trust her ability to help you with your secret details anyway. You two can talk and then you can decide if you feel safe with her.” He smiled and took a sip of his water.
“We can also offer you help in other ways. Training on reading people, some computer skills, get you teleconference devices so you can insist on meetings to hear people, that sort of thing.”
Posted by Noel on May 4, 2017 10:17:15 GMT -6
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He sounded almost hopeful when he offered himself as a trustworthy point of contact. Ah. Yeah. Of course he was going to step in for that duty. He was a psychologist or something, right? That's what he'd said?
Noel shifted her shoulders, unable to find a way to be comfortable. It wasn't just the bullet wound that bothered her.
"Nobody can be there 100% of the time." That was why he'd offered the services of his secret keeper. A small rueful smile touched Noel's lips. How many times had she been the secret keeper? If she spilled her secrets to this person, Noel could get rid of them from her mind and make them officially not her problem any more. She toyed with the idea, but ultimately would have to speak with this associate
"I just need stability: a chance to build on my experiences." And relationships. She knew that part, but she wasn't about to say it. Making friends would come naturally enough, she assumed.
What an exhilarating disappointment this day was turning out to be.
She sighed, stubbornly keeping her eyes shut while drinking in the afternoon light.
"Hey Hadden?" It didn't take long for the speaker to translate something short. "Tell me about you."
Devon nodded at her comment. No one could be there for another 100% of the time. Any relationship trying to be was likely doomed to failure. However, she also got the point: stability. Some regular pattern or routine would do that, and they could decide together what that would be.
Philosophy taught that individual events formed memory. Regular activity of that built experience. Those experiences taught us knowledge and reflecting on them built wisdom. Noel showed regular wisdom; learned behaviors over many experiences. Her memory was difficult to hold, however and so the daily knowledge suffered. Her wisdom was almost more built around not having memory than having any experiences to really recall. Some good relationships might help that, might help to keep her her and grounded.
>> "Tell me about you."
An eyebrow shot up as she called him by his last name. He smiled at the ask. “Sure, and I’ll try to be as honest of what I feel as possible though my truth and fact can vary I’m sure. I'll pause here and there to let it translate,” he tried to preface. “I was born in Boston. My dad was from the area though my mother was someone he met while in Budapest. Both were rather loving though in hindsight I feel at least my dad’s expectations play some role in my rebellious nature.”
He smirked as he paused before continuing, “Rebel I did. I didn’t like being told what to do or what was expecting of me in some of the more gentrified circles of academia and Boston society. More importantly – and something I denied for years – were mental issues I struggled with. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder but often neglected my medication. I drank, partied, let my grades fall…”
Devon’s smile faltered though he didn’t frown. His eyes showed their sadness, however. “My dad wasn’t very supportive of non-Catholic attitudes or beliefs. When I was slowly seeing my abilities manifest I turned that on myself as demonizing and that probably made me more bitter than I realized. School got harder and I got increasingly involved with the wrong people. Those people told others about my diagnosis and school became somewhat unbearable for my narrow perspective.”
He shook his head, “My parents died in a plane crash. My foul mood that day coupled with the already present storm… My ability couldn’t have reached that far but stir up one area and you surely could affect a larger area long term. I learned about that and then freaked out even more, hurting people at school. Not intentionally, anyway.” Devon shook his head again and sighed, “But I couldn’t control myself, who knew the last time I’d taken medication…”
“I ran away. Lived on my own for a while. My grandparents tried to find me but I hid, avoided police. Eventually as I learned to control my abilities the guilt set in. I worked odd jobs under the table pretty often but still struggled. So I swallowed my pride and started seeing a psychiatrist. Most money went to my prescriptions at first but then I worked temp jobs and even some expensive insurance… I got my GED and then started at NYU. Eventually, things with me were pretty stable that I felt it was time to get involved in helping others before bad things happened to them like happened to me.”
A hopeful smile returned as he continued, “So I started volunteering at Sanctuary, counseling some, encouraging the community aspect for homeless and mutants alike, and helping where I could. Last winter I talked to my grandparents about graduation and they pointed out I had an inheritance to gain and they had actually been watching my progress through a private investigator.” He chuckled, “I should have reached out sooner, but I was ashamed. So I figured what better way to use my inheritance than start somewhere to continue helping people and voila, Hadden’s Havens. Haven itself is more a step past that.”
A deep blush settled in his cheeks, “Sorry, was that too much? I figured I should be honest. Personally I enjoy literature, especially Shakespeare but a lot of Renaissance or Elizabethan works. I like to be out in nature and I probably work myself too hard most times.”
Posted by Noel on May 4, 2017 14:05:58 GMT -6
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> "I like to be out in nature and I probably work myself too hard most times.”
"Well then. Let this be your vacation too." Noel shifted her shoulders again. What she wouldn't give for a bathing suit and some sand... Maybe a smoothie...
He wasn't shy and he didn't pull any punches, and yet "I like Shakespeare" was about as generic a personal answer as you could get. Noel could respect the hard truths he did share even if she didn't understand the kind of thinking that went into running away and behaving as he did in the past. She really didn't understand that kind of aberrant behavior at all.
"You seem well grounded now, but I can't help but notice that you didn't mention anyone outside of your family." Noel spared a glance for Hadden over the rim of her sunglasses before she pushed them back into place.
He spun a nice overview and kept the most private details of his life private. She didn't have to know whose throat he was sticking his tongue down, but no man was an island. So long as his family wasn't the mob, she'd try to be be okay with continuing down this path that might eventually lead to trusting him.
"You read like money to me. Like you're used to being listened to. More than just listened to; listened to and obeyed." It was why when she'd thought this was a job, she'd started to report to him like the boss. He was a natural leader with that smile and disarming charm.
Exactly the kind of person she'd been duped by before.
She considered these questions her due diligence and an attempt to not fall down that same path.
"You mentioned the Sanctuary and helping people. How? I Have no clue what strings you pulled to get me out of the hospital. Is Natalie on your payroll?"
“Maybe, in a way,” Devon nodded, glancing out over the water. “At least my office has a good view. Gotta let myself have something here and there.”
>> "You seem well grounded now, but I can't help but notice that you didn't mention anyone outside of your family."
“Yeah, maybe now,” mirth played in his voice and in his blue eyes. “I have a psychiatrist, I take my medication, I do some meditation… I’ve built up a career for myself and others. I’ve made quite a few friends at Sanctuary, the X-Men, in the business and political world. Some have joined Haven even,” he smiled. “I’m sure you’ll meet them at least. We can eventually get you a place there in the city once we’re good, settled here.”
>> "You read like money to me. Like you're used to being listened to. More than just listened to; listened to and obeyed."
Devon’s brow narrowed in concern. He realized how insulted he actually felt at the words. He wanted to be a normal person, or well mutant. He wasn’t some wealthy socialite climbing ladders. His connections and efforts had certainly put him in those arenas again. Maybe Dad would be proud of that, though it’s his mother’s pride he wanted. But listened to and obeyed? He didn’t want to be some crazed CEO or mad man.
“Oh? Most of my inheritance is now wrapped up in this business. I’m not even getting that much of an increase in salary, but at least I have a home and food that’s covered so I figured I don’t need to be throwing money in the bank,” he shook his head. “But I did have some of the highbrow social stuff growing up. Dad’s family was well-to-do anyway. As for listened to? I guess since I make it a point to listen to others, they value that and listen to me?”
He’d have to watch his tone more carefully with people he worked with.
>> "You mentioned the Sanctuary and helping people. How? I Have no clue what strings you pulled to get me out of the hospital. Is Natalie on your payroll?"
“Oh well first I was just cleaning up the joint outside and in, place was dirty and out of sorts. Even the electrical had issues,” Devon nodded. “But over time we cleaned it up. We got a neighborhood watch going after the mutant shelter attack in Odessa. We reached out to remind the community they were part of us and we were part of them. We helped them too, cleaned things up in alleys and streets. I got some group sessions going, did some one on one. We had mutant kids come together, learn they weren’t alone. Many live there, but some just need a place to go after school.
“As for Natalie, she’s indirectly on Haven’s payroll. I’m the founder of Haven but not an executive. I’ve got my own business to worry about,” Devon chuckled, glancing around. “Natalie’s law firm is Haven’s legal team. Haven or even my Havens, we hear about a mutant being mistreated and or needs help with adjustments, control, et cetera… We step in to get the details, see things are handled correctly. They weren’t,” he shook his head. “And then we try to resolve the situation. We come to the individual’s defense as much as possible."