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 Pharoah Dynasty
An ancient sorceress is on a quest to bring her long-lost warrior-king to the modern era in a bid for global domination. Can the heroes of the modern world stop her before all is lost?
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 vampyremage on Aug 29, 2009 14:03:32 GMT -6
Guest
No matter what Meld did or desired to do, the fact remained that she was stuck in this furred catlike form until such a time as she, or one of the others similarly stuck in foreign forms, figured out how to reverse whatever effect had gotten them into their unfortunate positions. And, given the fact that she had no idea how to reverse the effect or how long it would take to discover how to reverse it, the only logical thing to do was to get used to the new body she found herself stuck in. That, of course, meant going into the city and actually doing something that might give her an idea of the limitations and advantages of her current form.
Meld had all ready discovered some of the things she didn't like about this body. For one thing she still hadn't gotten used to how the sight of this form worked, constantly being distracted by things moving in the periphery of her vision. Then there was the fact that it could feel pain, something that was almost entirely foreign to Meld and she discovered that as much as she enjoyed the sensation of touch she most certainly did not enjoy the sensation of pain. She suspected, also, although he had not yet had a chance to test her theory, that the body was not going to be as resistant to damage as her own was since it did not have hard titanium to help protect it. Talking was also something a little bit tricky since there were more teeth than she was used to, although that, at least, she had managed to more or less master.
As Meld left the Mansion and entered the city she took no pains to hide what she was: an obvious mutant. That, at least, was something she was used to even if the nature of her mutation, in this body, was somewhat different than the one she was used to. And despite the fact that her present body was even more visibly mutant than her natural one she couldn't help but be pleased to note that she didn't receive quite as many shudders and looks of fear as she normally received when walking around in public, probably due to the fact that her present body didn't have any local infamy for all the wrong reasons.
Not caring at all about the swarms of humans around her, Meld began running, testing the limits of how fast and how far her new body could go and was stunned at the speed that she acquired. It was...unbelievable, far faster than anything she could achieve in her natural form. Then there was the fact that everything around her seemed more real and noticeable, her senses were amazing. If she ignored her sight for the time being, she realized she could hear just about everything and could smell things she never even realized had a scent. It was something that was going to take some getting used to but, she decided, perhaps it wasn't all bad.
Eventually Meld found herself in one of the more run-down and dangerous areas of New York, an area she was well familiar with. She rarely felt any danger from mere humans, not even in the worst areas of town and, even with this new body of hers, she felt little danger now. And these sorts of areas had the natural advantage of not attracting nearly as much attention as some of the more upstanding areas. Looking at a nearby building, about 3 stories tall by her estimation, she decided to test the claws of her present form and see if she could scale the wall as she would in her natural form. She couldn't' help the great sense satisfaction as she not only scaled the building, but scaled it with ease, possibly easier than she even would in her natural form. And now that she found herself atop its roof it was time to test what she had really wanted to test all along and that was the advantages and limitations of having a tail.
She had been planning to create her own metallic tail for more than a month before she was so violently and rudely excised from her body and forced into this one and despite the fact that she resented that fact incredibly, there was the one advantage that the was in the very unique position of being able to study the qualities of a tail first hand. Before doing anything she peered behind her, as best she could, in order to see exactly how the tail was attached to her body, paying particular attention to its length and how it moved. She noticed how her tailbone, instead of ending where it normally would in a human, extended to the length of the tail. It wasn't entirely unexpected but it was good to reinforce what she all ready knew. Having done her visual once over it was time to truly test its capabilities and Meld began running and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Much to her please she found that the tail seemed to enhance her balance. She wondered if it had enough strength or dexterity to hang from things. Although quite pleased with what she had discovered, she also knew that when she was returned to her own body and when it was time to fashion her own tail, it would be superior in every way, from being bladed to having an eye at the end.
Posted by Martin Stein on Aug 30, 2009 10:48:23 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
The day that followed his mansion experience, little Koga set out for the big wide world after having taken a shower (hot) and packing his bruised and damaged limbs with icepacks (cold) to relieve some of the pain in his strained muscles. They were in desperate need for some form of relief after he had fallen from the third story of a building. Luckily nothing had been broken. None of his bones at least. Immediately upon applying the frost covered, ice blue, gel packs to his skin, he felt the creeping feeling of warmth being drained away from him. A feeling that made him want to close his eyes and sleep. Sleep until it was warm again. He had already concluded, that he was cold-blooded, but the immediate effect surprised him enough to penetrate the thickening and suffocating mantle of mist that fell on him to remove the packs with curs upon animals. Curse them all. Especially reptiles. After wrapping his arms with a soft feeling shirt instead (ice-blue, not for the first time he noticed his host bodies admiration of vivid colors), he decided on going to the city. He wanted to go there to forget. And to search for answers to the questions that were on his mind. The most prominent of those was „How he could get rid of this body?“ Its limitations were a pain. So he covered the blue of the shirt with the gray of a hoodie, that would at least somewhat conceal his now bright blue skin.
Traveling on the bus was a tour de force for him this time. Just that it was another kind of force this time. And he had hoped that with his ability to touch people it would be easier. Instead he had to sneak out of the mansion and ride a bus that was full of noisy travelers, making any sound thinking impossible. And for some reason he found that he wanted to get on their throats. Literally. He pulled his thoughts away from those dangerous areas with starting a playact. He was no man in a boys body any more, no he was a hooded, blue boy that only wanted to help people. Yes his intentions were completely safe and sound. Or so he wanted to believe. Luckily he was already in the city, when he did, as the first person that saw his face during a helping session -an old grandmother he had offered to lift her trunk into the bus- suddenly turned from cheerful and grinning, huggable old lady to furious old hag. She even started beating him down with her handbag! Raising his arms to protect his head did not do his woulds any good either. So barely an hour after waking up he was now stranded in a foreign part of town with his head hurting. Oh and his clothes were dirty too. Nice first impression for a boys city tour, right?
Feeling his own frustration level reaching a new peak, Martin-Koga decided on trying something new. Well not something entirely new. He had noticed, that he could stick to walls, but could he control those actions too? He did not think that someone would mind him training here. And if they did? Well.... Then he might just give in to his primal urges. For the first time in hopefully a long while. Being what he was, he used a methodical approach, first trying to stick his fingers to a surface and then unstick them again. It proved to be quite a challenge, until he was able to safely handle the pulling off without getting stuck with the other hand. Another hour -and a puzzling discovery- or so later, he had made his way up to the very top of his training object, carrying his shoes tied together around his neck. His feet were sticky too, Interesting. And how freeing it felt to be able to look down on those smirking passerbys. For the first time in three days Martin felt the need so smile, a rather mischievous idea forming in his head. He was a little boy now, why not behave like one? So he lay low near the edge of the building, where the main street passed underneath, some pieces of junk gathered in his hand. Whoops. His first shot missed. Second too. It was closer though. Smirking Martin tested himself on his new shooting range, unaware of the fact, that a cat girl was testing her own skills nearby. Would he soon be the target himself?
Posted by vampyremage on Aug 30, 2009 13:02:20 GMT -6
Guest
(OOC: GModing approved by Martin)
Despite herself, Meld was enjoying her run across the rooftops. Although she far preferred her own body, complete with its lack of pain and beautifully crafted and most dangerous flesh melds, there was much to be admired about this body also. She was certain that she wouldn't remain in this form for long, wouldn't allow herself to remain in this form for long, but there was no reason, in the meantime, not to take full advantage of it. There was no reason not to learn something from it, perhaps she would be able to replicate and improve upon more than just the tail that this body possessed. Its senses too, with the exception of its most irritating and sometimes confusing vision, were something that she might be able to consider replicating. She was hearing and smelling things that she never even knew were possible to hear or smell, not at this distance anyway. If she could fashion an eye that could see in the dark, then why not an ear with amplified hearing? It was something to consider once she returned to her own body.
And now that she was considering her improved senses, Meld halted her running and simply listened. She could hear the sounds of the city below her, conversations that she shouldn't have even known were happening were clear as day to her. And there was something else also...something coming from a nearby rooftop? Did that mean there was someone else on the rooftops at present time also? And certainly if there was that individual must be a mutant since humans, by and large, did not spend much time atop roofs. Meld's tail twitched as she decided to go and investigate.
Trying her best to be stealthy, and it seemed to her as if her new body had the ability to be just that, she crept to the edge of her current rooftop and jumped to the next one, finally finding the source of the disturbance 3 roofs over in the form of a young mutant boy with light blue skin who appeared to be throwing bits of junk down to the ground below and also appeared to be having a pretty good time at it.
Deciding that she really should go over there and greet him, her present form didn't negate her from her responsibilities of taking care of other mutants, particularly young ones, Meld attempted to jump from her current rooftop onto the one he was currently standing on. Unfortunately, likely because she was not yet used to how this body moved and perceived (would she ever get used to it completely?) she botched her landing and stumbled forward. Trying desperately to regain her balance without tumbling off of the edge of the building, she instead collided violently into the little blue mutant, causing them both to fall in a heap of tangled limbs and painful bruises.
Posted by Martin Stein on Aug 30, 2009 13:29:01 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
He found his little game of child and mouse to be quite amiable. Strangers suddenly grasped their most certainly empty heads, as they were decorated with sufficiently aged banana peels (He slightly wondered, how those had gotten on top of this building, but seeing the lack of any obvious explanation beside the fact, that someone had enjoyed a meal up here recently, gave up on wondering quickly. When fate gives you ammunition and you were - Acting, was he? Or maybe he wasn't? He could remember, when he had had lots of fun like this. It almost seemed like a few hours ago- a kid, there was little to do, but throw it. Preferably on uptight strangers. Sadly these were lacing expensive suits. Only a minor fault though.)
He had just shot the penultimate projectile, when, in a flurry of what felt like fur, his careful balance on the edge of the building was rudely overthrown and he found himself racing for the pavement head on. Somehow his hands found a thing to grip on, and his hands acted on their own, by some instinct the previous owner of his new gestalt had left him there, clasping firmly around a thin section of the object that had hit him and turned it to face the earth. The consequence of that being, that his fall would be mitigated by the landing on....
CRUNCH
The sound was not pretty. The feeling in his bruised limbs was not pretty. The blackout was not pretty. What had he done?
Shaking his head, he tried his best to piece himself together. Or rather his mind, for his body was -as his rapidly wandering hands revealed- apparently unharmed by this accident at least. But there was a furry creature looking at him.
Blink.
Disbelieving blink.
Blink of recognition.
He knew the feline creature. What was her name again? It might have been due to the fall, or the lacking of brain matter in this young body, but for some reason e simply blurted it out. “Hey Sarah. Nice you dropped in.” It was the dumbest thing he had done in a long time. It was fun.
Posted by vampyremage on Aug 30, 2009 13:57:25 GMT -6
Guest
First Meld felt a sense of panic as she came to the awareness that she was plummeting to her doom. Then, a moment later, all she was aware of was pain shooting through her entire body and the distant recognition of a crack. She lay there for an indeterminate amount of time while the pain dissipated from most of her body and concentrated itself firmly in her leg which, she would soon discover, had become fractured from the fall. She tried to center her mind, to put the unfamiliar pain in a corner to be dealt with later, preferably when she was alone and not in the presence of a foreign mutant, and that thought triggered the awareness that said foreign mutant was currently on top of her.
Meld blinked up at him, still trying to clear the cobwebs out of her head. Then she tried to move and found, much to her relief, that everything seemed to be in working order except for her leg which was still in an abominable amount of pain, though even that seemed to be working despite the pain. Having established that she was still in more or less working order Meld attempted to push the little blue mutant off of her only to discover, much to her dismay, that he appeared to be stuck and it took much more time and effort than she would have expected to extricate herself from him. Having finally managed to do so, Meld got tenderly to her feet.
"I'm not actually Sarah and its a long story," Meld answered, trying not to let the irritation seep into her voice but not being entirely successful. She sighed and started moving her wounded leg, trying to work out the pain and, she might have been imagining things, but it was starting to feel a little better. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," she said, actually meaning it. "Its just been a very long couple of days and the name's Meld." It was always possible that he was a Mansion dweller and thus she should be pretending to actually be Sarah in order to gain some much needed information, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it at this point and besides, he was little more than a child.
Posted by Martin Stein on Aug 30, 2009 14:43:36 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
The smile on Koga's face, the twitching one, the only slightly panicked one, was still there, as he got to his feet and dusted off his clothes. OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod Not that there was any dust, but the motion seemed befitting of the situation. The smile vanished, as soon as he checked Sahra's figure to find that her leg was standing in a slightly odd angle and that, as far as it was possible with her features- she was in a good deal of pain. It was replaced by a concerned look on his face, a raising of the eyebrows, a wide eyed stare. “Oh no, you're hurt!” His statement was ringing with something between the two emotions that had just presented themselves on the youths face. He even changes colors. Now his skin was showing a bright violet, bordering pink. Passing what little distance remained between them, he put his hands carefully on her hurt leg. “Where does it hurt you? Here?” Practiced and lucky as he was, the reply to his actions was a pained hiss, an animalic hiss, that made something inside of him freeze. His whole body froze. It was the hiss of an angered cat. A pained cat. An irrational cat. Shara had removed herself from his offending grasp in an instant, claws raised. Even though the eyes remained stationary at one point, something in him knew. The animal knew. He was in trouble. It was only seconds, before the colors started moving, though, shifting into a swirling and disorienting fractal pattern. Blank.
It was only after he had cooled down his heartbeat -another thing that had not slowed down- and, oddly, fighting the urge of clasping his arm around her neck again, that he was able to retract his hand from the given position, changing it to a loose dangling at his sides. ItsallmyfaultItsallmyfault “Sorry.” His voice was a mumble of sadness. “Look Im really sorry.....” "I'm not actually Sarah and its a long story"
Oh really? Is that the case? Then it would just be fitting to return the favor, yes? Yes. Tactical assessment complete. She wasn't lying in all probability. How could she know of his aliment? He had not told anyone. So the effect had entangled others too. Interesting. But that was not the ting he had to focus on right now. Koga stiffened once again, as the decision was made in an instant. Much longer then what he usually needed, but it was still sufficient. He hoped.
It was a shift. The only way to describe it was that single word. Shift. Suddenly the child was gone. It was all too clear. The swirling colors were gone, were replaced with browns and grays that made the young boy almost indistinguishable from the background. His mind had shifted. The mask of the young teenager was finally abandoned and something else was revealed. His true self in a way. The background of a painting. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” The words were bare of any emotion whatsoever. Cool and almost snobbish. This was anything but a child standing in front of her. That much should be clear now. And the non-child eyed interested at her leg, before giving her a single hand sign. A military one, if she knew them. He pointed at her and then motioned with his palm to the ground. You stay put here it said. Martin had already wandered off into the next street, from where all too soon crushing noises could be heard.
Ten minutes later
The young boy returned with white cloth and pieces of wood in his hands. Where he had gotten them? Well beds aren't really sturdy these days. Much unlike in the good 'ol days at least. And windows that were not secured were no obstacle to anyone who could scale a wall like a gecko. He approached her without any sign of fear. Without any consideration whatsoever, he touched her again. Before the words “Hold still.” Had even left his lips to reach her ear, he had taken a firm pull at her leg and had begun strapping it in a makeshift carcass. This was much like the war days. Only a few years ago really. Back then anyone had learnt what he needed to survive. Making a carcass out of almost anything might just be one of those. And if she would get a good look at his eyes, she would be able to see, that they had turned into something that was devoid of any childlike innocence. That was devoid of any emotion at all. They had been locked away tightly into storage at the back of his mind. It was a protection from harm. For him. For her. Before he was even finished, he started speaking “My name is Martin. And you might be able to tell that this is not my original body, too.” And then... it was finished.
Posted by vampyremage on Aug 30, 2009 15:46:26 GMT -6
Guest
Despite the fact that Meld was fairly certain the blue boy was trying to be kind and not actually trying to hurt her, she couldn't help the hiss and snarl that escaped her when he touched her leg and triggered another bout of pain. She almost lunged at him with her claws bared seeking blood, but barely managed to restrain herself. It wasn't his fault that she was in pain and she wasn't about to take her frustration out on an innocent mutant boy. Instead she took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself and force the pain down once again. She hated that she had to do so, hated that she was forced to feel this infernal sensation, hated that she was forced to remain in this foreign body that so clearly was not hers and that she had no reason to be in. But none of these things were the boy's fault and she was not about to take out all of her frustrations up on him, knowing that it wouldn't be fair. And despite her faults, which she new she had, one of them had never been using others as scapegoats for her own problems.
"Its not your fault," Meld answered through clenched teeth. It was more difficult than she would have liked to ignore the pain. It made her head feel slow, made it hard to think clearly and put her nerves on edge. All the more reason to dislike it and this infernal body. She had always prided herself on her clarity of thought, her ability not to let emotions or personal issues get in the way of the decisions she needed to make, not matter how difficult or how close to home their consequences might be and the pain from her fall was interfering in her ability to make those clear and logical choices. She wanted to growl her annoyance but once again managed to restrain herself, not wanting to frighten the boy more than she obviously all ready had.
And then the blue mutant boy underwent a very fascinating and startling transformation, and his physical changes were not the least of it nor were they in any way the most fascinating. Physically the boy's blue skin changed to match the background, a trick that Meld had seen one other time with the mutant Twyla but it was the way that he carried himself and the story his eyes told that were the real interest. Gone in an instant was the naive little boy, to be replaced by a calculating and logical adult. The change was so drastic that he didn't even appear to be the same person. Meld's lips rose in a smile, though no emotion touched her eyes. It wasn't a hostile expression, it was simply devoid of any emotional meaning. "A pleasure to meet you as well. And your name would be?" She matched his dispassionate tone perfectly, finally finding it within herself to detach herself from the personal nature of the circumstances in order to allow only her mind to dictate the best course of action.
Although Meld didn't recognize the exact gestures that the mutant male used, she did recognize their intent. She was to remain where she was while, she assumed, he went to collect healing supplies for her leg. During the short time he was absent she made a rather startling discovery. By the time he returned the pain from all of the minor bumps and bruises from her fall was completely gone as was any evidence of the injuries themselves. Her leg continued to burn and shooting pain was the result of any attempt to move it, but even that pain was starting, ever so slightly, to dissipate. It was a fascinating discovery that, apparently, this body had the ability to heal itself at incredible speeds.
Meld tensed when the mutant returned and began tending to her injury but made no move to stop him. She almost screamed at the first tug of her leg so severe was the pain that resulted but somehow managed to prevent any sound from exiting her lips. She was stronger than that and determined not to let a little thing like a bit of pain defeat her. When he finally finished blood was dripping down her palms where she had clenched her hands and her claws had dug into the tender flesh of her hands.
Before making any reply to Martin's introduction of himself and the revelation that he, too, was in a foreign body, Meld was forced to take several deep breaths in order to mentally recover from the pain of his tender healing ministrations. When she finally met his gaze her eyes were almost as devoid of emotion as his own. "There are several who I have met since becoming trapped in this body that have also been switched. Thus far I know very little about why or how this has happened and why us, though I intend to find out. I do not desire to remain in this body any more than, I am sure, you desire to remain in your present body. Perhaps working together and sharing information, we might be able to find a solution to our mutual problem faster than if we worked separately." She spoke directly and coldly, as an equal in every way. Clearly he was not the child he appeared to be and thus she would not treat him as a child.
Posted by Martin Stein on Aug 30, 2009 16:34:13 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
He looked at his work critically, much like a math teacher would be looking at the work of one of his students. Examining, what he had done, checking for errors that he knew were not there. But as with math, double checking important things, making solutions as failsafe as possible, were those things that had shown themselves to be instrumental if one wanted to do one thing: Survive in a hostile environment. Another one of the things necessary to accomplish said feat would be to remain mobile, shifting the location, until some adequate place could be found, where Meld would rest to relieve her of the stress of her injuries. A hospital this might be. But could you really trust a hospital full of humans any more then you could trust the strangers on the sidewalk? In the grand game that was called survival, there had to be no chances taken. His eyes also ran across her whole appearance again, seemed to compare it to the cat that had been here moments before. They lingered shortly on her bloodied hands and claws, but he either thought them to be of little importance, or he had no more material at had to treat them, for the lingering was but a short illusion. After the final inspection had been completed, he turned around, eyes scanning the surroundings, beaming at the shadows.
“Its best, we get moving. Who knows who saw our little stunt.” After all there still were mutant haters enough around for both of them. For a lot more then the two of them in all honesty. He had just an hour ago felt the truth of that. “You should be able to walk now.” The short sentences revealed a foreign origin, a harsh accent, short and chipped language, that seemed crisp and brittle. Military language in a way. Survivors language. It prompted questions, difficult ones at that. Easy ones if one had the right viewpoint, or maybe that was the wrong one to see it clearly? How could this little kid be so cold? How could anyone be so cold? Was this even human any more? Martin had found his answer long ago. To extinguish the fires of hell, people sometimes needed to relinquish their own humanity. And maybe take one step too close to becoming a devil themselves? “if not you may lean on me.” The colors shifted again in fractals, self contained patterns, that were held in darkest colors, colorless hues. Was there maybe red among them? An image of the blood on her?
Waiting for her action, he listened to her proposition, only to take it up into the depths of a non-child's mind. Demon spawn, Changeling, those were the words to call people like him. Maybe. Care to change your viewpoint, too? “I agree to your proposition.” He turned around to her and looked her in the eyes. Unblinking, unyielding. What might he be looking for in there? A hint of fear? “But what you have given me just now is more then I possessed at all.” A mere few seconds of silence, before he shrugged and mumbled, maybe to himself, maybe to her. “I going to have to make up for that with actions I guess.” Then he fell into a silent walk, feeling her feline paw on his shoulder. That his clothes were going to be bloodied now, was of little importance. She had given him enough facts to muse on for quite a long walk. Nonetheless, he still started talking after long minutes of silence. “I woke up a few days ago in this body. There were no unusual events the previous day. I highly suspect mutant involvement.” The different melody of his voice intensified yet again. What else could it be? Chemicals in the drinking water? Chemtrails? Ridiculous. “Also if it is a city wide or global problem, it will require exceptional strength to pull off such a stunt. And exceptional mutants do leave traces.” They really did not have a choice. And he, make that them, had no choice, but to try and find those trails if they wanted to get their bodies back. “Another suggestion I have is looking out for our own bodies. Who knows what might be happening to them.” What or who. This time he sounded even slightly concerned. Its not that he liked his body. Its not that he liked his powers. But they were both his. And he wanted them back.
Posted by vampyremage on Aug 30, 2009 17:24:38 GMT -6
Guest
It was an interesting and slightly unnerving experience to look into eyes that were just as cold and calculating as her own. Did her eyes take on that same steely glint when she suppressed her emotions to the point that they no longer affected her? Did she look so very inhuman when she let nothing but logic and her cause dictate her actions, with no consideration for the pain she could cause either to herself or others? Although slightly disturbing, Meld found it more interesting than anything, though perhaps her detached interest had more to do with her present state of mind than anything else. It was no wonder people had such a hard time meeting her gaze.
Meld nodded her agreement that they should move and got gingerly to her feet, putting a bloody hand upon Martin's shoulder for support and was pleased to discover that she could walk, all be it painfully and with a marked limp. She knew very well the dangers of remaining where they presently were, knew very well the dangers of anti-mutant haters. In her natural body she had more than one encounter with such individuals and more than once such encounters had almost ended in her death. She wouldn't want to fight such people in her present form, unfamiliar with its strengths and weaknesses as she was and would even less like to fight when she was injured. Idly she wondered if Martin's natural body was so obviously physically mutated as his present one but as the thought had little bearing on their present situation she opted not to voice it.
"I have trust that what I have given you you will return in time to me and I lost nothing in the giving of such information anyway." Or nothing that she knew of at present time anyway. There was always the risk of giving up something, especially giving up what you least expected to give up, when information willingly left one's possession. It was a risk, perhaps, but a risk she needed to take and a risk which would hopefully be rewarded in time. "I agree with your evaluation of mutants being the likely culprit. I think one of the more pertinent questions is why. I had thought originally that certain mutants were being targetting for a reason but I am beginning to suspect otherwise. Few of the switched mutants seem in any way connected to one another and although many have enemies," she left unstated that she was among those with enemies, it being plainly obvious in her own mind, "not all of them appear to have the same enemies. Indeed, aside from the fact that all of them that I have met thus far are mutants, I cannot tell that they have much in common at all." She paused in her speech, deep in thought. It was a puzzling problem. She had originally thought Order members were being specifically targeted, having met Aura the first morning of the change, but she had been force to reevaluate that initial conclusion. The pieces simply didn't fit together.
Meld picked up Martin's concern over the fate of his own body and shared it. She had the sudden and slightly uncomfortable impulse to try and comfort him, but neither knowing him well enough to know if he'd be receptive to such nor really knowing how to be comforting, she simply smiled encouragingly instead. "I share your concern about our own bodies. I have contacted the individual who is currently in possession of my body and I believe she desires a return to her body as much as I desire a return to mine. It would certainly be a relief, however, to have more information about exactly what she was doing with my body." She tried to force her thoughts away from horrible things that Werecat could be doing with her body, forced herself not to think about the betrayals and dangers the other woman could get her into. And especially forced herself not to think about whether or not the police would finally catch up to her in her current position of weakness and whether or not she would find herself behind bars when she finally returned to her natural form.
Posted by Martin Stein on Sept 7, 2009 12:07:16 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
What he had been trying to find in her eyes, either it was not there, or he had been successful in finding it, maybe it was even unease, the non-child averted his eyes with a blink that seemed much too long to be natural. She would have to lead him for a few steps, with him having nothing but her hand as a guide. A sign of trust? Blinking, he looked down on the ground, as if searching for something he had lost, eyes unfixed. His shoulders tightened to an almost shrug, that would just not leave, the tension in the muscles not giving way to the pressure of the claws that the cat beast applied to them. Did he even try to make them do so? Lost his innocence? As if he had ever possessed such a thing. But had it been worth discarding it? I just told you that I never had any. Maybe you're wrong this time? Just maybe? Doubts. Maybe. Not? Yes. It was an episode of listening. Silent thoughts adding to her words, recording, looking. Hopefully finding. What was he looking for?
They walked, the little sounds and hints intensifying that they were about to enter a populated area. Switching away from the main street, they turned around a corner -one that was half blocked with the remnants of a brick wall-, with Martin still not saying a word, and found themselves on a wide, open street, that was busy with the sounds of life. The contrast to where they had come from was so stark, the boy raised his head and released the tension from his shoulders. He just now seemed to notice, where they were. That they had just taken a shortcut to one of the busier streets of the city. Was it because he was with people again, people other then the one besides him? Or was it, because he was starting his game again, withdrawing his self deeper and deeper, where nothing could hurt it. Not even himself. When he shot her a glance, carrying the smile of a teenager, with just the right hint of mischievousness to make sure she got his point. Hide who you are. Act normal. Even if you aren't. People started to feel safe, when you gave them the feeling that you were predictable. His colors changed again, fractals dissolving into more geometric shapes colored like the walls they walked by. One of his hands found their way op to his shoulder, where the claws of the cat were digging in and carefully removed them. But for some reason, he did not let go, the hand felt furry and warm. Cats fur. Instead, as possible compensation, gave her the first bit of verbal communication that she had received since she finished speaking. “I once heard, that criminals who pick their victims at random are the most dangerous of all. And as for the reason of these attempts: I think the most plausible explanation would be, that they are a diversion.” He really said that. Ruining lives, burning buildings, mutants on a power rampage. All that and much more could happen. And yet he called a diversion. Like one on a chess board. If it had not become crystal clear earlier, then it would now. The boy holding her hand and swinging his legs happily along with hers was still everything, but a boy. Nothing was gained by randomly switching bodies of mutants around. Nothing but confusion that was sown in their society. A reason to be on your guard.
People were now milling about them. Some even bumping into them, before realizing what the two of them were. Some only shot them glances. Glances of hate, that did not even soften for the teenager in their midst. Glances of disgust. Glances of fear. There was nothing more prevalent then glances of fear. In a way that was. All those emotions, all the other ones, the shallow ones, were driven by fear. By the fear, what they might so, could do, would to to them. The hunters were stalking amongst them. And they knew it.
Most surprisingly, Martin found as he bumped into a smaller figure, that a little face was red with her tearful sorrow. It was a young blond, maybe 5 years old, that had been standing in their way in a pink dress. Mind the color. Don't mind the color. Before Martin knew it, his body had reacted to the sudden change in point of interest and taken on a bright pink hue. The girl stopped in the middle of a sob. Blinked. Martin could already hear her screaming. Blinked. And smiled brightly? Thats when he realized, that he was pink. Oh my god. He turned red. Darn those colors. When he got himself under control the girl was already hypnotized by the play of color on his skin, all traces of tears swiftly wiped from her face, so that they might not interfere with the viewing process of that spectral miracle in front of her. When he finally had taken the hue of the wall on his side (with gray concrete stripes), her eyes instead wandered to the person, whose hand he was clutching. And her smile remained. She took a step. Oh no kid, don't. It was as if she were ignoring his icy stare and quite un-boyish “Ssssssh” in her direction. Her attention was now fixed on the cat at his side. She took another step.
Step.
Step.
And finally reached her destination right in front of the unusual pair. Yet she did not finish there. Her hands wandered up to his, or rather hers, wrested them from him lightly and started petting them with now sparkling eyes. It was the biggest teddy bear she had ever found. Even bigger then the ones in the supermarket. And she was happy. “You are a cat.” She stated with a smile. Martin was throughly ignored. And -going by the throbbing in his temples- thoroughly not amused by her presence at all.
Posted by vampyremage on Sept 7, 2009 12:50:52 GMT -6
Guest
When Meld emerged from the secluded alley into the world of regular humans it was with unusual confidence. She didn't need Martin's look to tell her how important it was to act normal, to seem as if this was the most natural thing in the world. She didn't need his hint to inform her that she needed to walk with confidence and seeming carelessness. Her body might, for the moment, be different than she was used to but the one thing she was used to was being a visible mutant among mortals and one thing the knew from experience was that to show fear and uncertainty meant that you became a victim and if there was one thing that Meld vowed never to be it was to be a victim. And so as she emerged from the relative seclusion of the alley she forced all of her doubts and all of her confusion down as far as she could so that all that remained was cold confidence. Only the most practiced eye would be able to discern that her confidence and casualness was ever so slightly forced.
"Every criminal picks their victim for different reasons. A diversion, perhaps, for some, a way to release tension for others. And for yet more a way to feel something." Her casual tone belied the personal nature of the subject. Would this strange not-boy be able to tell just how close the topic came to her? Just how much it applied to her life? She still struggled with the fact that the pain of others was the only thing that brought her any sort of pleasure, that it was the only thing that allowed her to feel. It didn't really matter, she supposed, whether he knew or not. Nor did it matter that he would surely judge her for her since if he did know, she judged herself and perhaps more harshly than anyone else could judge her. What did he know about the inability to feel anyway? What right did he truly have to judge her when he didn't know her entire story? What right did any of them have?
Meld blinked in startlement as a hand reached up and wrapped itself around her hand. Curious enough that it was cold next to her warm hand, but even more curious given the fact that even discerning such a sensation was normally a complete impossibility. Her first instinct was to pull away, to not allow herself to be touched by this stranger, to not be made vulnerable by his touch but she couldn't bring herself to do so. It was a simple amazement, a simple blessing that for this short amount of time she was able to feel, to actually feel. She wasn't sure if she could describe her wonder at that mere fact if she tried but she didn't. So she allowed her hand to be held looking towards Martin as she did so, unsure what emotions flowed within her eyes.
As she walked Meld observed the milling humans around them just as the humans observed them. She caught their fear and hatred, caught there anger and even, curiously enough, caught the occasional look of curiosity. It was the curiosity that most enchanted her, an emotion that she so rarely saw in her normal form. In some ways being a cat person was, she supposed, less intimidating than being a cyborg. At least cats were natural living creatures and thus those disinclined to hatred were more likely to accept a cat person.
And then there was the little girl, first crying then plainly enchanted by Martin's skin. And then, most startling of all, enchanted by herself. The little girl, not intimidated in the least by either of them, wrested her hand away from that of her companion and...started petting her?
Blink. Meld stood there in stunned confusion. Another blink and the girl was still there and still petting her. A look towards the not-boy and back to the girl. Another confused blink. How was she supposed to deal with this? This little girl? "Um..." She looked back towards Martin, eyes pleading and confused. "I guess I am a cat?" A stupid thing to say and she knew it but she was at an absolute loss as to what to do in this situation. She, who had killed countless humans, successfully completed numerous robberies, saved the lives of employers and allies more than once and she didn't know what to do about a little girl petting her like she was a giant kitty.
Posted by Martin Stein on Sept 23, 2009 1:41:15 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
Martin eyes shot back and forth between the impertinent youth and the cat. If she were about to bite the head off that little pest, he might have felt bold enough to voice his disagreement. Everything short of that: Fair game by him. Little girl need to learn when to disturb grownups. Instead Meld turned around to him and looked into his eyes, looking for what? Help? Martin did the only sensible thing.
He blinked.
Thisisnottruethisisnottruethisisnottrue
Darn.
He turned green.
True.
Darn.
His hand -green- remained cold at her side, absorbing the heat of her furry body. He looked nice in green. He was not nice. His hand shot forward, gripped the girl. Latched on. She changed focus slowly. The petting did not stop. Dreams. She looked into the reptile-boys face. And a reptile looked back. Complete with forked tongue. “Ssssheessss my cat.” The girl was silent. The petting stopped. Frozen. Oh wonderous possessive pronoun.
Posted by vampyremage on Sept 27, 2009 14:06:48 GMT -6
Guest
Meld blinked as Martin turned green. Was that a good or a bad thing? So much the better to consider her companion's recent color change than it was to consider the child. The child who was still petting her. The child looking at her with wide adoring eyes. It wouldn't be right for her to hurt the child would it? No, that wouldn't work at all, she didn't hurt children if she could help it. Not unless absolutely necessary and it wasn't really necessary here. Was it?
“Ssssheessss my cat.”
Meld blinked again. She was? Um...She didn't know what to say to that. Normally she would have felt the urge to lash out, at least verbally. It was far to possessive for her liking and she didn't belong to anyone. She was her own person working for her own goals. But this was a rather unique situation in so many ways and so she kept silent, though she couldn't quite stop the brief glare sent in the green boy's direction. The boy he was so clearly not a boy.
Then she sent her glare down to the child, putting as much cold balefulness into it as she could muster. She might be lacking her own body, complete with dangerous metal and blades, but the eyes still told the story of her life, still provided the window to her soul. And there were few who could meet her gaze and hold it, especially when she was putting all of her substantial icy intimidation into it. She was a killer, a completely remorseless killer with the knowledge and the skill to know that she would kill again and again and again, so long as killing was what was needed to accomplish her lofty goals. She danced the dance of death better than almost anyone. It was her greatest skill, her greatest strength. And it was humans, most of all, that she killed.
Turning her gaze to the child she showed all of that in her eyes. Her expression became distant and frozen and her eyes showed an utter lack of compassion. She was danger, she was death and the child must surely know it. Even few of the strongest mutants or the most jaded criminals could meet her gaze for long, so how could a child possibly withstand it? Slowly, deliberately, she removed herself from under the petting hand of the girl. "Leave now." Her voice promised dangerous repercussions if it was disobeyed. It promised that the child would not be protected simply because it was young and innocent because the voice did not care about any of that. It held no anger because anger required emotion and the voice held no emotion at all. Only the assurance that it must be obeyed and if it was not no mortal feeling would get in the way of ensuring that it was.
Posted by Martin Stein on Sept 28, 2009 10:27:02 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
When he pronounced his words, sentence, she tried to shrug it off at first, smile barely faltering, but then the ones from Meld, that is the Cat, the murderous one, added to what was already going on inside of her. She looked at her like she was a mouse already half eaten. Delicious. Food. Appreciation and Adoration were fading to apprehension and anger. And most of all. Fear. The Cat was a scarylady. The boy was a scaryboy. Both of them were mean. And both of them were... She ran away screaming. Finally Martin thought. Thought despite the looks that were cast at the pair of them by the crowd. They were cowards mostly. They would not do a thing. Hopefully at least. And then he caught Meld's eyes. Was stunned a second time by the cold murderous intent she displayed so openly. He knew now that he would recognize that in any form. From now on in the future. She was marked his truly. They were much too much alike.
Oh wondrous worlds of Ice, towers to lofty to be seen by mortal eyes, crushing power from below, take one step and fall into oblivion, take two and live your life wonderfully free, take three and be cast aside by raging torrents. This voice, these eyes. Looking in mirrors. Broken mirrors. He would be crying now, would be if he were in his real form and using this voice. It meant he had failed to find different options then resort to his natural weapons, cast aside all masks and hiding. It was truth that he was. He would have resolved the situation quite differently. But now he was a boy with a cat. Both were mutants. Both were out of their usual habitats. Both were frightened in a way. In a way that was buried under the ice. Ice through which he could see faces looking up at him. Down below so many faces. And Martin was not going to raise a hand against Meld. Maybe they were not enough alike. From the outside the lid barely changed. It had not changed a lot since the beginning. But these eyes were too much a sparkling mirror. “Please excuse I am not good with children at all.” Said it in a way as if he had chosen the same solution for their little problem. He might have considered it. He had considered it. But those masks he would ever cast down. Not even in this form. His mouth had opened to speak again, when a sound interrupted them.
“MONSTERS!” Pause. People fell silent around them as they were looking for the origin of the disturbing noise “I'm so gonna KILL YA F*** FREAKS” A slender woman was walking across the street toward the unusual pair. A crying child was in her one hand. A child both very well knew. The other was pointed at them. An accusation. He was about to laugh at her, when the woman left her child and fell into a slow trot. A slender woman was really charging two mutants in broad daylight. And for such stupid reasons as her child's happiness. Try understanding Homo sapiens... Sometimes there was just no sense at all in them.
Posted by vampyremage on Sept 28, 2009 20:35:49 GMT -6
Guest
Relief was the first emotion to be felt when the child finally ran away screaming. Relief and perhaps just a tinge of regret, though Meld would never admit to the latter. Could not admit to the latter for that would be a weakness and she could not afford to have weakness. She was a mutant, a killer and a soldier for her cause and none of those things meshed well with weakness. And so her regret didn't pass across her face or, if it did, it was so fleeting as to seem nothing more than an illusion or a figment of the imagination. Mingled with the relief and the regret there was also a tinge of pleasure; pleasure that even in this form she was still able to cause fear, pleasure that she still had such an influence on the humans around her and pleasure at hearing the screams of the child. She knew, deep down, that it was wrong to feel pleasure in such things, especially when they came from a child, but she felt pleasure from nothing else. She, who could physically feel nothing and had, through both choice and necessity, made it nearly impossible for herself to feel more than the slightest emotion. She only felt pleasure at the fear and torment of others and even then, at this time and place, that was felt distantly. She was too good and keeping it all out and covering it all with ice.
Meld quirked the very slightest of smiles as her companion mentioned how he was with children. Just as her expression of regret was fleeting so was the smile, but also tinged with dark humor that actually reached her eyes. "Neither am I." Frigid still, but at least alive. She didn't smile often and laughed even less, but she had yet to lose her sense of humor entirely and there was something undefinable about this situation that she found humorous. If she lost her ability to find amusement in things would that mean that her soul had finally and irreversibly been destroyed? Did she maintain some state of being alive, some sense of humanity, so long as she could still smile? She didn't know and it wasn't something she wished to dwell on. She was what she was and that was all. Her decisions, her sacrifices, were made willingly and for the good of her cause. She knew their consequences and couldn't afford to regret them.
Then came the yelling and the accusations. Monsters the humans called them and, perhaps on some level, they were right. If only did so with the knowledge of what Meld had done, with the knowledge that she was a remorseless killer. She didn't know anything about Martin's past but something in his expression and his voice told her that perhaps they had more in common than she knew. But they accused simply because of what she and what Martin looked liked, because they were mutants and because they had caused a little girl to cry and for that reason they were wrong. It wasn't because she was a mutant that she was a monster, it was because she was covered in the blood of countless dead. And this human woman was, perhaps, about to join the river that covered her.
Meld growled at the charging woman, sending her baleful glare in the woman's direction and bracing herself. Her leg still hurt and she was still unfamiliar with exactly how this body moved and fought. Besides, she had no desire to kill if it wasn't necessary. She felt anger but the anger was distant, as all her emotional responses were distant, but it was tempered with a certain understanding as well. They had made the woman's child cry, after all. And while that mitigated her offense slightly, it in no way excused her from it. "I have no wish to hurt you but if you continue I will." Calm, dispassionate, utterly devoid of emotion and promising violence. The effect was, perhaps, slightly diminished by the less than perfect enunciation as Meld tried to get the words out past too many teeth.