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.
((ooc: This thread takes place post-Colombia and pre-FP wake up/brawl.))
The little sign by the Board Room’s door was much newer than others in the building. It was stainless steel, with pressed black lettering—a rather utilitarian marker, for a rather blandly titled room. That simple sign had seen far more than its predecessor, though. There was something amusing in that: while the War Room had once sat empty, the Board Room had become a center of activity in Mondragon Labs. And the topic of business?
Well, that was a bit of a chuckle, too.
The Kabal’s nineteen year old leader sat at his usual seat: the chair just to the left of the long table’s head. He’d tried Hunter Antonescu’s old seat, but had not found it to his liking.
At this particular moment, he was on the phone. Long distance. Was it strange, that he had General Morales’ direct line committed to memory? It was not, perhaps, the usual teenage hobby.
“That is good to hear,” Slate stated in Spanish, with a satisfied nod. “And the President—has the decrease in violence helped our case? I see. Please, keep me informed. I am still interested in helping to mediate between the drug factions and the government, if he has the time to meet with me. Thank you. I would like to call you again at this time next week—you will be in your office, correct?” The subtle command did not go unrewarded. “Thank you, General. Yes. Goodbye.”
He placed the phone down with an understated click, and leaned back in his chair. That was one piece of business done. He looked at the clock on the wall. Just in time; it would not be long until they arrived.
In the past months, Slate had done many things. He had taken control of the Labs and the Kabal. He had taken new mutants under his command. He had taken men’s lives, and their freewill. He had taken some of the ill out of a small village, at the same time he had taken over a nation’s drug trade. Yesterday, Noin Mortman had given him a piece of mail from the Mansion. The innocuous white envelope had contained a report card.
The Board Room was being used for war. And Slate had, in quite an official sense, failed Ethics. It was, perhaps, a bit late to call in tutors. Nonetheless, they were on their way.
Columbia had been more different than anything Lee had ever done. So different, in fact, and so much had happened while they were there, that it had kind of felt like it would take forever to get back to normal once they got home.
And yet, getting back to normal, or at least normal for them, really hadn't taken more than just a couple of days. Pretty much by the time they had recovered from the travelling, things were back into their old routines.
At least things had gone back to their old routine until they had gotten a phone call from Slate, asking them to come by for a business meeting of some sort.
Honestly, Lee would have preferred more details as to why they were picking up and travelling half way across the city (the fact that they had picked up and gone half way around the world for another phone call from Slate didn't mean anything at that moment), but Tarin was getting ready to go, so that didn't leave Lee with many options.
To be honest, Lee didn't much care how she was dressed for the meeting. Well, she did, but the fact of the matter was that she really was more put together today than virtually any other time that Slate had seen her. So what did it matter if she was looking the part of a business woman? Slate was the one who had recruited them, not the other way around. He could deal with her clothing.
Apparently Tarin didn't feel quite the same way, though, and for once it was her who was waiting on him to get ready. Finally, though, he was set, and they headed down the stairs to grab a cab.
Which was making Lee visibly wince at the fare by the time they had gotten to their destination. Mondragon Labs Medical? Slate was taking over countries and was in charge of a medical lab? This was something Lee was going to have to ask about at some point.
It really didn't take long once they had gotten there. Into the building they went, up to the reception desk, and the moment they told the person at the desk who they were and who they were there to see, someone was being called to show them the way.
Merely a minute later, they were walking down the hallway, Lee's heels clicking on the polished floors. The hallways were all very similar, white, bright, and very plain looking. Maze-like. It wasn't until they were passing a door that had a steel plate stating 'Canteen' beside it, that Lee actually had a sense of familiarity about the place. Glancing in through the doorway, Lee then had more than a simple sense of familiarity, she had been here before, right after getting out of the camp.
Huh, definitely something she was going to have to ask about, preferably sooner rather than later.
It didn't take much longer, maybe thirty seconds to a minute, though they had turned at least three more corners from the canteen in that time, when they had come to a stop. "Here we are," said the woman, every bit looking the business woman that Lee was not. "Mr. Swartz is expecting you."
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Jul 6, 2009 21:38:44 GMT -6
Mutant God
DodgerBlue
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Jules
A meeting. Slate had said he’d call, and he’d called. After everything that had happened in Colombia, the way things had gone down with the ponytail guy and his flunkies, Slate had asked for Tarin and Lee’s help. Tarin had offered it freely. Lee had been slightly more reluctant. Actually, Lee had been furious with Slate at the time and hadn’t exactly wanted anything to do with the young revolutionary. Hopefully she’d changed her mind by this point, because they were going, and Tarin was dressing the part.
On the phone, Slate had said that it was a business meeting, Tarin respected that enough to dress accordingly. The problem was, Tarin didn’t really own business clothes, and he’d stood in his closet frowning for several minutes. He was going to have to have Lee help him remedy that if they were going to be going to business meetings like this, Tarin decided, finally pulling out the nicest pair of jeans he owned and the suit jacket he wore out on special occasions. On went the jeans, then a plain white button up shirt, then the suit jacket and plain black shoes. It was as good as it was going to get, Tarin decided, preening slightly in the mirror before joining Lee in the living room. She was waiting. Tarin scowled, how was it that she managed to look that good with so little effort? Grabbing the sunglasses he’d gotten for Colombia on their way out, Tarin sighed it was so hard to look as good as he did.
Outside they went and into a cab they climbed, it was a long trip to Mondragon Labs and Tarin tried not to choke as the meter rolled over time after time. After an eternity, and half a fortune in cab fare, they finally arrived at the appointed meeting spot.
Tarin frowned as he and Lee entered the building, something about it was more than familiar and tickled at his brain. It wasn’t until they were walking around in the maze-like hallways. This was where they’d come after the break-out from the camps. Tarin actually winced at the memory, it was one of the nastier ones, but funnily enough they’d all started to run together. Then again, he’d been mostly unconscious except for the parts where he and Lee had been yelling at one another. Ew…definitely not the thing to be thinking about, Tarin decided, and shook off the memories, instead focusing his attention on the beat that the high heels were pounding out on the floor as he and Lee were led to the conference room.
It didn’t take long, or too much walking to get them to a large room with a rather opulent door marker. They were meeting in the board room? Suddenly Tarin felt underdressed. It didn’t matter though, they were already there and Slate had seen him much more dressed down.
Into the board room they went, Slate was already there. As almost always, Tarin was taken slightly aback by just how young the leader of their organization was. It seemed emphasized by the large room and the official setting they were in. Tarin smiled anyway and moved forward to extend a hand, “Slate.” He said formally, still standing and waiting for Lee to make her salutations. As he waited, Tarin looked around the room, mentally picking out a chair if they were supposed to sit. Either they were the first ones to arrive, or they were going to be the only ones. Either way, it looked like they really were going to be doing business. Interesting to say the least.
Whom ever invented automatic flushing toilets must have thought it was real funny the first time he heard someone use one.. .. .. yeah.. .. .. Personally Sara didn’t like a machine telling her when it thought she was done with her business. She liked things to be predictable and the best way to make things predicable was to do them yourself. Automatic flushing toilets weren’t predictable. They either want to finish their jobs too early, or entirely too late.
Yeah.. .. .. Not exactly Sara’s first choice of throne but the labs seemed to be full of the latest equipment.
That business done, Sara gave herself a once over in the long mirror. Her hair had been combed, brushed and shed so that the loose strands could be thrown out for the birds, and the rest of her fur and hair had a textured shine to it.
The rest of her attire was her usual cloths. The only fancy cloths, that Sara owned, were the flowing dress pants and top she had worn to the Valentines ball. Those would give entirely the wrong impression. Instead Sara opted for a pair of fading jeans she’d frayed the hems of and nearly worn the legs, below her knees, to nothing, and a black stretchy top with the words Fragile writing with sparkly barbed wire circling the letters.
Slate had probably seen her in worst. He’d surprised her at the Dragon Inn in the back room. He was requesting her. Not the other way around.
They finally reached their destination and the lady from the front desk waved Sara inside where there were already three people waiting.
“Greetings.” She sai lightly as she eyed the seating arrangement. Hmmm. Slate had left the head of the table empty. One eye brow rose, questioningly, at slate. Apparently that throne fit him about as well as Sara’s automatic flushing toilets suited her.. .. ..
Well there was one way to fix that. Not even pausing at the door, Sara strolled straight for the seat at the end of the table. She then flopped herself down, sideways, on the chair at the head of the table, let it spin around once before dangling a leg off of the front to stop and look and nod at Slate, Then Lee and Tarin.
Sara didn’t take the chair at the head of the table because she wanted the attention or to be in charge. She took it because she could and if she sat there, no one else could. “I hope I didn’t miss anything.”
Posted by Sebastian on Jul 8, 2009 15:41:05 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
Sebastian pulled his car into one of the parking spaces in front of what seemed to be the main entrance to Mondragon Labs Medical. It felt very strange to be back here again. His last visit had been almost exactly a year ago, but the circumstances had been quite a bit different. During his previous visit, he had been more of a prisoner than a guest. Though, his stay under Hunter's care had been much more pleasant, or at least less unpleasant, than his stay with the Church of Humanity from whom Hunter's lackeys had rescued him, or kidnapped him; it amounted to the same effect.
The Labs looked just a little bit different. For one thing, it seemed more open and friendly. The secretary gave a four-fingered wave as he walked in through the entry and pointed him in the correct direction, there was a small stand next to her desk that had informational brochures about the groundbreaking technology of artificial hearts that had gained the attention of the media not long ago, and everyone he saw in the halls seemed to have a friendly expression on their faces. The halls themselves remained pristinely plain as was befitting for a medical establishment. It wasn't the place that seemed all that different as much as it was the people. It was possible that he was looking at things from a different perspective, since he was not a scared kidnapped child at the moment. It was also possible that the employees themselves had a different perspective, as if they were running a business now rather than a secret military base where any wrong decision could cost them life or limb.
It wasn't a long walk to the board room and the door was open when he arrived. Inside four people already were waiting, clustered together at one end of the long table. He recognized them all from having met them in Columbia. Sara and Slate were both seated at the head of the table and one chair to the side, respectively. Tarin and Lee were still standing, so he had probably not arrived very long after them. He was not sure if anyone else would be arriving after him, so he left the door open as he had found it.
Sebastian had a polite smile for each of them as he took the seat next to Slate. “Good morning everyone,” he greeted them before looking back to Slate, waiting for him to explain why he had called everyone together again.
Every inch of Lee’s legs seemed to bare unvented bad will upon him. He sensed, from her short and decidedly unbusinesslike skirt, that she had not yet forgiven him for Tarin’s injuries in Colombia.
The healthy nineteen year old swallowed, and tactfully dragged his eyes to the woman’s face. And her husband.
“Thank you for coming,” he said with a welcoming nod. “I felt it was time to continue the talk we began in Colombia. We’re waiting for two others. Please, make yourselves comfortable.” The others were soon to arrive.
The chair was claimed, and spun: for a moment, Slate feared that the woman was going to put her legs on the table. Fortunately, she left them where they were: one hanging off the side of the chair, the other dangly freely. The idea of footprints on his table was oddly... disquieting.
>> “I hope I didn’t miss anything.”
“You did not. Welcome, Miss Nobes.”
>> “Good morning everyone.”
Their fifth member walked in with stately elegance, carrying behind him their five-and-one-half member. Slate gave a respectful nod, to both Sebastian and his tail, and stood.
“Thank you all for coming,” he began mildly. “I fear this may be a somewhat long meeting; for some of you, this information will be a repeat. I hope you can bear with me.” He did not look specifically at Tarin and Lee as he said the last; baby blue eyes traveled between them all equally (including, of course, the two tails in the room; he knew from experience that a tail is a force to be disregarded at one’s own peril. As a wolfhound, his own had liked to hit itself against things, and seemed to wag all the harder if a breaking sound resulted).
“As you all know, my rise to power here in the Labs was rather recent. I had thought I could do things alone, but certain... circumstances have shown me that I am only one person. And, perhaps, not a very wise one. I have great respect for all of you, and the ways you approach things. I would like for you to become my advisors.”
There were a few things that they must know first, to accept or decline that position fairly.
With a bare minimum of adieu, Slate turned on a display screen at the front of the room. He would have preferred that they all have this information in front of them on paper, but such papers could not leave the room. Somehow, the thought of ordering Miss Nobes and her tail to not take any papers with them struck him on an instinctual level as a poor idea. Slate knew a thing or two about tails, and about ordering cats. A computer presentation it was, then.
With a certain unsubtle calm, Slate began at the beginning: a condensed version of Hunter’s plans, including his charming vampiric takeover plot, and Slate’s own usurpation of power to destroy the man’s work. And the method he’s used to do it: the mental commands to loyalty, and the deaths. The reforming of the Kabal, to give its rather dangerous strays a purpose again, and the collection of new members.
Most of the presentation, though, was devoted to Colombia. The school that he had built, and did not intend to ever have destroyed again. And, to ensure that... the lies he had told to Sebastian; the mental commands he’d been putting in the drug traders minds, even as they healed them together. His Kabal strike against the military base, to take out the US’ intrusive aid, and so that in the aftermath he could offer his esteemed healing services. The General he had made his own, on the lucky chance that the man was at the base. His current efforts to set himself up as an intermediary between the government and the drug lords—his drug lords. And, in the mean time, the curbs he was enforcing on their violence, and the way he was funneling large amounts of their money. Those who had destroyed the country were now funding its rebuilding, just as Mondragon Labs had funded the little Pax Academy.
Other matters were raised, as well: the legitimate medical business that Mondragon Labs was now running, his destruction of the past weapons and bioweapon research. And, of course, the future. The implication that Colombia was only the start hung in the air, with all the subtly of Lee’s legs in an adolescent boy’s mind.
It was the future he needed them for.
“I wish to change the way the world itself works. I have the resources to do so. What I need,” he finished, “is people who will not be afraid to keep me in check. I want to make things better. But... it seems very easy to warp that word. I would like to be able to trust you all with my plans, so that you can tell me when... well, when I am becoming evil.” There was a simple shrug to complement that statement; no other gesture seemed quite appropriate. Whether his actions up to this point had already crossed that line, after all, was a subject quite open to debate.
Slate retook his seat. The floor was now open to questions.
As soon as they entered the board room, Tarin went straight over to Slate, extending his hand toward the younger man. Lee hung back slightly. She wasn't exactly mad at the guy like she had been when he had first asked for their help in Columbia, but Lee definitely had some questions she wanted answered before she would completely warm up to him.
Plus, Slate seemed to be spending quite a bit of time simply staring at her legs. He did, however, manage to shake Tarin's hand, indicate that they should go ahead and sit down, and said that they were waiting for two others.
Lee was just sitting in the chair across the table from Slate, on the other side of the one at the head of the table when Sara entered, and it didn't take long for the last person to arrive for their meeting. She was more than slightly surprised to see that she recognized both of them. And even more curious and confused as to why they were there. Slate had said that this was to be a business meeting, and sure in Columbia he had asked for their help. And, while it was true that she had been doing well improving the shop's business and profitability, she was no where close to being a business woman. She had to wonder how Sara and Sebastian would fit into that business mold.
And then Slate was starting to explain, and a number of her questions were answered quite quickly. By way of his explaining along side a power point presentation. And, thanks to his little explanation after he had healed Tarin in Columbia, Lee did know a good chunk of what he was now saying about that trip, but the sheer extent of everything that the young man, the teenager had done while in South America was shocking.
Lee leaned back in her chair as she looked across the table at Slate. He didn't want to just end with Columbia, though. He wanted to do more, to change the world. Those words reminded Lee of one of her first talks with the young man, back at the mansion. Her mind had been largely elsewhere because of the fact that Tarin was in a coma at the time, but most of what he had said had struck a chord with her. She wasn't very happy with how the world worked in many ways, either. And though they hadn't been back in the States for long, there had been some rather positive sounding news coming out of Columbia. Things were sounding like they were doing a lot better down there.
And he finished with a shrug, as he asked them to be there to ensure he didn't end up doing anything evil, didn't turn evil as he tried to fix things in the world.
All Lee could do was sit there, leaning back in her chair with one leg crossed over the other as she stared at Slate. This young, blue eyed man was wanting their help to keep his goal of making the world a better place from becoming twisted.
This was even more to think about than the talk in Columbia had been. Mind you, down there, Lee had needed to calm down, to get rid of her anger at Slate before she'd been able to even start thinking about what he'd said.
"And if we do tell you," she said slowly, her eyes focused on the young man standing across the table, not even bothering to look at anyone else in the room. "What's to stop you from disregarding us and carrying on anyway?" Well, it was a valid question.
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Jul 13, 2009 11:31:34 GMT -6
Mutant God
DodgerBlue
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Currently Online
Jules
Well, whatever else he was, Slate was a normal 19 year old boy. Tarin couldn’t help but think as he followed the younger man’s line of sight right to his wife’s legs. Tarin couldn’t fault him though, not at that age and not with the way Lee looked in that outfit. He’d done his fair share of staring in the cab…and while walking down the hall…and right that moment. All things considered, Tarin was actually a little happy to see such a normal reaction from Slate, who always seemed to take things so in stride.
Lee was still haughty towards the guy, and while Tarin understood her slightly cool demeanor, he didn’t agree with it in the least. Then again, Lee had been the one cradling his bleeding body while Slate healed the man who’d made him bleed. Hopefully whatever this meeting was about would silence Lee’s doubts more than Tarin’s arguments in Slate’s favor had.
They sat, and Tarin returned to wondering if they were going to be the only ones in this meeting. He didn’t have to wonder long and he found himself having mixed feelings as Sara entered the room. The woman had been equal parts helpful and irritating on the few occasions they’d met, but she’d always seemed to have sound judgment. Then she planted herself at the head of the table, Tarin frowned slightly at that. If the head of the table was left open, you usually left it that way. Apparently not in Sara’s world…this was why Tarin was a dog person. He smiled politely in greeting , though.
Sara wasn’t the last to enter, though, and Tarin smiled genuinely as Sebastian made his way into the board room and took the seat next to Slate. There wasn’t much more preamble after that, and Slate started speaking.
To start, Slate reiterated some of the things he’d said when the three of them had been sitting in the dirt, practically covered in blood. He extended the offer to advice him to the others in the room as well, and puzzle pieces in the shape of this meeting started to come together.
Tarin swiveled in his chair as the lights in the room went down and the powerpoint presentation came up on the screen. As the presentation progressed, Tarin’s eyes widened, he’d had no idea that such things were going on in the middle of New York City. Then again, in a city that had supported concentration camps for mutants, he figured he should stop being surprised. Slate’s takeover had been a hostile one. Very hostile. Tarin looked at him from the corner of his eye as he calmly explained the mind control and death that had been involved. This was a Slate that Tarin hadn’t known existed. The arguments were logical though, no life had been wasted injudiciously, the medium frowned as he returned to watching the screen.
They’d moved on to Colombia now, and if Tarin had been surprised by the manner in which Slate had taken over the labs, now he was absolutely floored. Slate was playing politics on so many different levels that Tarin’s head had started to spin a bit. Hopefully this wasn’t the part the young entrepreneur wanted advice on. Tarin had never cared much for politics…hell, he’d never even been registered to vote. Again, Tarin was impressed with the way things were being handled…with that much power…the things Slate could have done were daunting to say the least.
Most impressive, though, wasn’t any of these things…it was what was actually happening in the labs. Not only was Slate taking over small countries, he was running a research facility that was already starting to make a real difference…and he’d gotten rid of weapons he could make use of.
As the presentation ended, Tarin again found himself wondering how exactly he was supposed to advise someone who had their ducks this firmly in a row. Then Slate explained that exact thing. He was worried that he’d get power hungry and evil. Tarin nodded his head slowly, and studied the young man carefully. He was so young. In fact, that was probably what had saved him from already making decisions on the path to evil. Youthful innocence could count for a lot, and from what Tarin knew of Slate, he had it in spades. And he wanted their help to keep him on the right path.
Tarin was impressed, but realized he’d been staring at Slate since the young man had asked the assembled if they had any questions. Questions, Tarin had loads of questions…but he didn’t know how to ask them. There was something in particular, though, that had stuck out to him in the presentation. If one thing bothered him, it was the mind control. Lee spoke up first, asking what seemed like a very valid question. Advice wouldn’t matter if Slate wasn’t going to take it, he decided following immediately up with his own wouldn’t hurt.
“I have to say I’m impressed with what you’ve already done Slate. I had no idea.” He paused for a second, working to phrase what he wanted to say, then spoke again, slowly and carefully, “And I think I want to be a part of this…but I have to know something first. These…”commands” you implant. They only affect the part of the peoples’ free will that makes them harmful, right? You’re not turning all these people into drones or zombies, right?” It was probably a touchy subject, and it seemed like quite possibly the dirtiest part of the whole operation, but Tarin had to know…
Sara instantly recognized all of the other members at the table, once all of them had sat down. There were Lee and Tarin, who Sara had met during the break out of the camps, Then there was Sebastian and his horn. An unusual horn that Sara had spent much of their mission in Columbia staring at, an had only ever seen one other horn like it in Egypt. Maybe Sebastian had distant relatives there.
The meeting was getting underway, and it didn’t take Sara long to notice the one piece of paper that had been left on the table for them. Mean while, Slate started his introductions. Sara slid te single piece of paper closer to her and began examining the grades Slate had received for the last semester. The instructors hadn’t seemed pleased.
Sara slipped the paper off of the desk, into her hand then leaned back in the chair, continuing to read and listen to the yonge man, who was obviously smart, but it seemed he needed to make a choice between what he wanted to be great in. Or seemingly, had, he made that choice, seeing as his attendance in school hadn’t been the best, however he had neglected to officially drop out. One’s argument could go either way in that respects. For instance, Sara, held a piece of paper with Slate’s grades. The fact that he even opened the envelope showed Sara that he had some sort of interest in school.
Sara calmly took in the information that Slate had taken over the company from Hunter. A mutant Sara only knew through reputation and the fact that this place, the labs, had been used as safe grounds for the mutants during and after the registration camps. For that reason Sara sort of felt she owed Hunter something, however, with the information coming from Slate’s words, the man’s down fall was for the best.
And at the same time, Sara couldn’t help but think of the fact that this information was coming from one person. She didn’t like to know different angles and different perspectives. Then there was the mental abilities of Slate that Sara wasn’t exactly aware he had till that moment. It surprised her enough that her right ear twitched and her attention was drawn away from the young man’s credit card, up to him. One, furry, eye brow raised and the simple paper in Sara’s hands was forgotten for the rest of the meeting, till Slate chose to return to his seat. Putting his eye level back at the level of Sara’s. She then neatly folded the page, and slid it back in front of Slate. Not caring who noticed she’d read it and who didn’t.
"And if we do tell you, What's to stop you from disregarding us and carrying on anyway?"
Lee had a good point. “Personally, it sounds like that’s something that would go under the job description as well.” Chimed in even though it wasn’t exactly her turn to talk and the question was not directed to her. The subject of what to do should Slate turn evil, would probably be best planned for when Slate was not in the room and when they were not inside his building.
“I have to say I’m impressed with what you’ve already done Slate. I had no idea.” He paused for a second, working to phrase what he wanted to say, then spoke again, slowly and carefully, “And I think I want to be a part of this…but I have to know something first. These…”commands” you implant. They only affect the part of the peoples’ free will that makes them harmful, right? You’re not turning all these people into drones or zombies, right?”
Tarin had another good point. “And how would one know weather they were under the.. .. .. influence of your mental commands, or not?”
Posted by Sebastian on Jul 23, 2009 20:33:05 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
Slate welcomed them all, then let them all know the reason he had brought them together. He was looking for advisors, and he had a lot of information to share with them before they could make a fully informed decision to do so or to decline the offer. Sebastian listened quietly to the presentation, his fingers steepled and pressed against his lips as Slate spoke. Every once in awhile he would nod in agreement or raise an eyebrow in question, but for the most part he remained still as he listened. He let the information sink in quietly before he reacted to anything. It was a lot of information and gave him a lot to think about.
Slate's presentation began with information about the former owner of Mondragon Labs Medical before the 'medical' had been added to the end of the name. While some of the information about what Hunter had been doing here was new information, almost none of it actually surprised the unicorn shifter. He had known of the notorious man for quite awhile and had finally met him face to face a little over a year ago. Many of the suspicions he'd had were proven to be correct, and many details were added by his protégé's presentation. One thing Sebastian couldn't help but marvel at was the other immortal's affinity for technology. While he struggled to stay caught up with even the most basic of the world's technological marvels, the vampire had not only stayed abreast of technology, he had made his own contributions to the fields of computers, weaponry, and even medicine when it suited his interests.
The discovery that Hunter had been able to pass his abilities on to another was concerning. One vampire at large in the world had been enough trouble for the last few centuries, the idea of two did not sit well. At least he could take consolation in the fact that the scientist who had actually figured out how to do it, and all the technology that he had created in order to pull of the feat, was now under Slate's control. Further attempts to create vampiric allies would be something to keep an eye out for, in the decades and centuries ahead, but probably not something he would have to worry about in the very near future since those kind of resources would be difficult to build up again.
Then Hunter had disappeared, leaving behind his little band of mercenaries with large paychecks and little to do. Things began to fall apart, with the members of the Kabal left to their own devices causing their brand of trouble. It seemed like a good thing that someone stepped in to reorganize things, even if the way Slate had gone about taking over was rather violent. The mental commands were necessary to undo what Hunter had done and to guard against his potential return and attempt to take back what was his. The deaths disturbed him, but he could see how they too might have been necessary. If the workers would not give their consent for Hunter's mental command to be removed, changing it by force would probably have left them worse off than simply dying. With the danger of Hunter returning and being able to start a coup within Slate's Kabal, it wasn't really an option to have employees who were still loyal to their old boss. It had been logical. Coldly, calculatingly, unemotionally logical. It gave him (or at least his tail) the shivers, but he had a hard time arguing with that logic.
Since then, Hunter's influence on the Labs had been erased and his lurid research had been destroyed. Meanwhile, Slate focused his attentions on Columbia. Apparently there had been more to the trip to Columbia than Slate had shared with anyone before today. A school had been rebuilt, a town's demons had been chased away, victims of the drug wars had been healed, but that was not all that had happened there, not by a long shot. He had taken over the drug cartels the same way he had taken over the Kabal, by inserting loyalty commands into its leaders. The result was a more peaceful country where the government was working together with the drug lords. Violence had been reduced and drug money was being used to rebuild the country. A war had been ended at the price of a relatively small number of deaths, a few free wills lost, and a handful of lies.
As for the future, Slate had realized he needed people to support him and advise him. There would be other countries and other situations that would force difficult choices. More and more power would fall into the hands of the young man in front of them, and he was asking for their help to keep him from letting that power from turning him evil.
That was assuming that the advisors could also see the line between good and evil. Up until now, Sebastian had not interfered much with the way the world was running itself. If he were honest with himself, he hadn't thought that one person could make a difference. There were many things about the world that bothered him, that he wished were different. Time had a way of solving all problems that men made for themselves, but the wheel turned and the same problems always came back again. Men never learned from the mistakes of their forefathers. Sebastian reflected upon what Slate had accomplished in Columbia before he was even nineteen. And he was thousands of years old and had never even attempted anything like it. What if he had started a millennium ago? What would the world be like now if he had tried to fix some of its problems ages and ages ago rather than living his own quiet life and ignoring the rest of the world?
As Sebastian pondered all these things, the others posed some very good questions.
Lee wanted to know what would keep Slate from ignoring their advice and continuing on with plans that the rest of them believed crossed the line. Sara seconded that question.
Tarin wanted to know the exact extent to which Slate controlled people's minds. And Sara, how a person could tell when they were being influenced. Sebastian remembered that the young Kabal leader had been inside his mind once, and he didn't feel any different now than he had before that incident. It was still a good question.
If they were to be as logical as Slate himself, the solution to Lee's question seemed clear, though it would be unpleasant to carry out. The death of one person to prevent even greater evils seemed like the most morally correct thing they could do. Sebastian was not entirely certain that he was willing to commit to something that could make him an executioner. The immortal did not voice his conclusion, opting to allow the young man the opportunity to speak for himself.
As for his question, “What is the next step?” How do you go about planning something like that, like the take over of a country?
They were very polite during the presentation. Very quiet. Even WereCat limited herself to a mere commandeering of his carefully folded report card. If that caused any sort of small reddening of his face, it was no doubt cleverly hidden by stoically ignoring the existence of said event and continuing to point at Figure 11.6: Current Diversion of Funds from Drug Trade Towards Placing Minors Back in School. Where they would, with any luck, receive better marks than him. And go on to do less covert things with their lives.
>> "And if we do tell you. What's to stop you from disregarding us and carrying on anyway?"
Lee’s question, like her stare, was piercingly direct. He took in a breath; how, precisely, does one say—?
>> “Personally, it sounds like that’s something that would go under the job description as well.”
Ah. It seemed that WereCat already understood. Slate nodded to the queen, and returned Lee’s gaze.
“It’s as Ms. Nobes stated. I’ve realized that my plans would benefit from more safeguards. You may have noticed that in Colombia, Lee. I...” He gave another small shrug, baby blue eyes flinching somewhat to the side. Mrs. Brooks had a very steady stare. “Suffice it to say that, should you agree, you are the safeguard against me. I sincerely hope that I do listen to your advice.” If he did not, then they would have to act. And he would know that they would act. Mutual expectation: it would not make for a clean confrontation. Nor would it make any of their lives particularly safe: if he was willfully choosing evil, after all, it would be logical to assure their deaths before they suspected him.
>> “I have to say I’m impressed with what you’ve already done Slate. I had no idea. And I think I want to be a part of this…but I have to know something first. These…”commands” you implant. They only affect the part of the peoples’ free will that makes them harmful, right? You’re not turning all these people into drones or zombies, right?”
Slate gave a nod. Its meaning was somewhat ambiguous. “Yes and no, Tarin. The command... ensures total loyalty, with a very specific clause regarding keeping my secrets. It does nothing to stop them from being harmful: it merely ensures that they will listen to my orders. If I order them to be harmless, they will be.” He hoped, in light of Lee’s question, they all realized the other side of that. “To the best of my knowledge, my orders cannot be disobeyed; they seem to believe they wanted to carry them out. In all other matters, though, I believe their free will remains intact.” That would have less ethical implications, perhaps.
>> “And how would one know weather they were under the.. .. .. influence of your mental commands, or not?”
Slate turned his attention back to Sara. “The command has very little subtly. You would not be able to disobey me.” He hoped they would watch for that.
>> “What is the next step?”
His mentor may have been looking for a long answer. Slate realized this, but not until he gave a completely innocent, too-direct reply:
“Romania.”
Steps, in Slate’s Kabal, were to henceforth be measured at the country level.
There was just so much to take in. Everything that Slate was saying about his operation here at the Labs, what all he had done in Columbia, all the questions now being asked...
Lee knew that there had definitely been a difference being made in Columbia that had happened sometime around when they'd been there; she'd been somewhat following the news out of the country since she got back to the States. But Lee had had no idea how involved Slate had been in that whole change, had had no idea just how much of it was Slate's doing.
But the questions were what was important at the moment; what was the point in them 'advising' Slate if he ended up not taking their advice, how much did these commands effect a person's free will, and how would they know if they'd already been implanted in their heads?
And then Slate was actually explaining part of what they were for, if he didn't end up listening to their advice. Lee continued to stare at Slate, who, it seemed as he talked, was having issues looking back at her.
But, was he really saying what it sounded like he was saying? That if he did start heading down the wrong path with what he was doing, and didn't listen to their advice to stop it, that they should deal with him, to stop him? That...huh...
Then Tarin's question about the commands was being dealt with. A mental command that ensured someone's loyalty to Slate, made sure that they kept his secrets, and obeyed his orders. A command that was not able to be refused.
Well, that was a good thing. Right? "So all we have to do to make sure you haven't put this loyalty command into our heads is to disobey your orders?" Lee asked, then shook her head. That was a great way for his advisers to deal with things.
But when Slate answered Sebastian's question with a single word, Lee's eyebrows shot up. "Romania?" She asked in slight surprise. "What do you mean Romania's next?"
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Jul 29, 2009 8:09:54 GMT -6
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Slate had asked for questions, and all the assembled people had responded accordingly, each in turn. Apparently this was going to be a civilized business meeting.
When they were finished asking, Slate addressed each of them in turn. Lee first, though Slate couldn’t match her gaze. He really was as smart kid. When Lee was looking at you like that…you simply didn’t stare back if you were completely comfortable with what it was you were trying to say to her. Slate wasn’t sure. As odd as it probably would have sounded to the others, that made Tarin feel better. If Slate had been completely confident, completely sure of himself, that would have been cause for concern. Instead, Slate seemed like someone who wanted advice. That was a good sign.
His question was next, and knowing the mechanics both helped and hurt the situation. It would be so easy for Slate to abuse that power. He pointed out that the nature of the mental commands didn’t ensure that people were rendered harmless, it was the commands themselves that did that. It made sense, but again pointed out the need for checks and balances. It may not have yet, but the temptation would definitely be there to do other things with the command. It did make him feel better though, that all other aspects of free will were preserved. At least with this particular command.
Sara’s question was very pointed, and Tarin wasn’t surprised. Sara brought up a really good point with her question, though and Tarin would have had to admit if he’d been asked that the idea sent a small shiver down his spine. What if they’d all been infused with this loyalty command already? It didn’t make sense though, and while Sebastian spoke, Tarin reasoned that there would be no point for this façade if they were already under the thumb of the loyalty command. From what Slate said, there was no way to disobey a command. If they were under those conditions, simply asking them to participate as advisors would have been unnecessary. Tarin felt the need to point this out.
“I think I understand.” He said slowly, “The fact that you’re asking us here almost proves that we’re not under the loyalty command. If you were that far gone…there wouldn’t be any need to ask.” They’d have to be careful though. Tarin knew that Slate’s powers required touch and permission…or unconsciousness. They’d need a way to check, to be sure. That could come later though, because Sebastian was asking his question. A question that Slate answered more directly than Tarin could have imagined he would.
“Romania?” he said, concentrating and trying to figure out if he’d heard anything in the news lately that would suggest the type of trouble in Romania that there had been in Colombia. “First, though…” Tarin said, feeling like he was getting ahead of himself, and looking intently at Lee for a few moments before turning back to Slate, “I’m in. You do need checks and balances if you’re going to make this work. All leaders do, and I’ll do what I can.”
Back to the subject at hand, though, ”What are we doing in Romania?” Tarin asked, dropping his forearms on the table and watching Slate closely.
The very fact that Slate told Sara she was correct in her assumption, bothered Sara more than the fact she expected them to be the safeguard. Sara hated the idea of carrying these types of promises out. Especially to those she knew she was starting to grow close to. Maybe that was all the more reason to put up some type of emotional wall.
“I think I understand. The fact that you’re asking us here almost proves that we’re not under the loyalty command. If you were that far gone…there wouldn’t be any need to ask.”
“Not necessarily.” Sara mumbled under her breath as Tarin finished his input. In Sara’s mind, carrying out Slate’s wishes, like this keeping him in check, could be something that has a loyalty command behind it. Mentally Sara tried to scan her mind. Was she under one now? Suddenly her mind felt like it needed to be washed and scrubbed with bleach. Lots and lots of bleach.
“What is the next step?”
“Romania.”
The next two words pulled Sara’s mind fully from the thought of how to properly cleans her mind. For first she realized Lee said-
"Romania?"
And then She realized Tarin was said-
"Romania?"
Were the echoes remarkable in this room or what?
The tip of Sara’s tail flicked at the thought of going to yet another country. That meant another plane ride, and she really didn’t do well in the air, However. “I’m in as well.” Sara nodded with Tarin for his next comment. She then waited for Slate to give farther explanation of his plans.
Posted by Sebastian on Aug 20, 2009 11:03:30 GMT -6
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May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
>>“Suffice it to say that, should you agree, you are the safeguard against me. I sincerely hope that I do listen to your advice.”
It was a dangerous path he asked them to tread.
It was possible, even logical, that Slate may attempt to kill them all before he ever showed signs that he had willfully chosen evil. It meant that not only would they have to keep one step ahead of the young faction leader, it also meant that they would have to look out for each other and protect each other.
The immortal did not worry for his own life as much as he did for the lives of the others sitting at the table with him. He was not worried about dying, but he did worry that Slate would find a way to incapacitate him so that he could not save or even warn the others. It would surely be worse than dying to sit by, unable to do anything, while he watched the world fall to pieces.
The were other dangers lurking on this shadowy path. One of them, which the questions about brainwashing were hinting at, was that Slate may not make the turn toward evil alone. Should Slate decide to travel in that direction, it was perfectly possible that he could lead others of their group that way as well, either by force or, even more terrifyingly, of their own free choice. It was not just Slate that they had to keep an eye on. It was each other. And themselves. They would have to constantly test themselves to ensure that the choices they were making were indeed their own and that they were good choices.
It would be a difficult path.
The next step along that path:
>>“Romania.”
The young couple echoed the Kabal leader's answer in disbelief. The mountain lioness merely flicked her tail.
It would seem that steps along the path were to be measured by countries. Initially Sebastian's thoughtful face showed a glimmer of surprise at the forward response of his pupil, but his eyebrows did not remain raised for very long. Of course the next step would be another country. Columbia had been the first step, Romania would be the second.
“I see,” was his quietly stoic response.
Tarin and Sara both accepted Slate's request for advisors. Tarin stated his reason as seeing the need for checks and balances. Sara nodded along with him.
Decisions did not come so quickly to the long lived unicorn shifter. If he was going to sign up for such a task, he would first make sure that he was wholly devoted to the cause. He just had to determine if the perils and the pitfalls of this path were worth the final destination. He had to weigh the slight possibility that they would actually make the world a better place against the possibility that they would do more harm than good, that they may end up as the executioner forced to kill their own friend, and that they could lose their own lives, minds, or moral bearings along the way.
There was so much to gain and so much to lose.
“What happens if we chose to say no?”
Behind him, his tail twitched in anticipation, an echo of the golden tail's twitching from Slate's other side. He hadn't decided quite yet, but he wanted to hear more. Tarin vocalized his own request for more information about the situation in Romania, so he didn't have to ask himself. He would hear all of the information before he made his decision.