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.
Cafas laughed at the thought of Meld and Calley sharing a shower. That appeared to be the name Meld had for him, and after three days of almost no separation he would use it too. However he had a joke to respond to. “You’d probably find it would cause corrode Meld, although that can be both good and bad. Good because it stops me accidentally brushing against you and causing one of your arms to turn to sludge, bad because it’s corrosion, the bane of all engineers and metalworkers world over. However I see no reasonable reason I shouldn’t be allowed to join, as I have nil ill effects when combined with water.” He smiled at Caleb and winked as he scuttled like a crab to keep the moon out of the sky, so to speak.
'Can't he just change back?'
Then rose the multiple rooms. C.J. felt a jolt as he remembered Calley did in fact reside in the mansion. Such trivialities escape one when talking to a mouse all day. However it was immediately followed by the warning against random attacks and threats. “Damn, what a kill joy. Fine, I guess I’ll save all my intimidation skills for when I need a set of wheels or a few million from a bank.” He winked at Meld after the bank comment, it took him back about a month and a bit. with shortening attention spans comes quicker nostalgia, and the world was in such a state with the advent of television and the internet that nostalgic moments could occur after a mere month. Society fail.
’And next you’ll be reminiscing over the popcorn... I want my popcorn back.’
All the talk of food was making Alchemist miss his popcorn. A glare flashed at a boy, who used to be a mouse, who had knocked over his snack. Evil came in no more potent form than food theft and destruction. He took a bit of MSG packed butter flavoured substance and licked his finger. He had to do t, because Calley had. Monkey see, monkey do, and as his dear mother would have said, all men are no more evolved than the baboons they look at in the zoo.
Posted by vampyremage on Oct 18, 2009 12:40:45 GMT -6
Guest
Meld grinned at Calley and his blatant outward mention of being from Sanctuary. She really couldn't help it, sometimes that boy just had this weird infections sort of inluence about him. He was so unalike anyone else Meld knew and certainly unalike anyone else Meld spent time with. He wasn't a killer or, if he was, his life wasn't consumed with it. And sometimes Meld regretted that her life was as with the lives of her closest friends. No matter that it was necessary. Calley was like a breath of fresh air.
"You really should find some clothes and a shower," Meld agreed, trying very hard to keep the vast amusement out of her voice. Trying very hard not to burst out laughing. She had her dignity and image to maintain, after all. The latter she succeeded at, the former was up for debate. Ah well, sometimes one had to learn to pick and choose their battles.
"And I solemly promise to neither stab nor mutilate nor intentionally intimidate random bystandards. I make no promises about unintentional intimidation." She grinned, hoping the other two realized it was her attempt at humour, a skill she didn't often employ.
"And I do not corrode," Meld retorted with a slight bit of indignity. Cafas' other comments and the realization that she was vulnerable to him secretly chilled her but she was careful not to allow such emotions to colour her face. Humour she was impracted at hiding, but most other emotions she was expert at hiding.
>> “...However I see no reasonable reason I shouldn’t be allowed to join, as I have nil ill effects when combined with water.”
“Sir,” Calley replied, pulling himself up to his full height (which was precisely the same as Meld’s, and quite a bit less than Cafas’), “I hope you are not implying—for the sake of good taste—that we, two gentlemen, engage in showerly pursuits while the good lady waits upon us for her very dinner. How rude.” There was no end to his unclothed affront on this matter. If he had a monocle, it would have surely dropped from his face at the mere suggestion. (This, friends, is the proper way to deal with awkward overtones.)
>> "And I solemnly promise to neither stab nor mutilate nor intentionally intimidate random bystanders. I make no promises about unintentional intimidation."
“Fair enough,” the buttery teen agreed, as he felt something cold come into contact with his posterior. Ah, the doorknob! Jolly good. He turned that, and invited both himself and Meld into Alchemist’s room. Alchemist too, he supposed.
>> “And I do not corrode."
“Heh. I bet—I...” His head slowly, slowly swiveled towards his roommate. “Good Sir, did you just lick my delicious flesh with your finger?” Because Calley was pretty sure he just did.
"If you insist Meld, if you insist. Hmmm, reactivity levels, I must try that some time, I could be a good catalyst!" C.J. Smiled as best he could. He ignored Calley's vocalisation on issues with showerly pursuits, it made it easier not to comment, or laugh. It appeared Calley had discovered the doorknob with his buttocks. Cafas winced. So gross, so very very gross. He would wash it later. Or have it replaced, whichever involved less residue of behind. Ick.
“Good Sir, did you just lick my delicious flesh with your finger?”
'Quick, witty come-back!'
"Om nom, Mr Bond, Om nom nom" He repeated the sucking of his finger to get the flavour in his mouth again. It really did hit the spot. However he faced the conundrum of acquiescing Calley's request in a fashion mimicking willingness to allow the boy to enter his bathroom, which he was disinclined to do, as it was treading the line between dump and nuclear fallout zone. But Calley probably knew that. Oh well.
'Not so bad, it hasn't reached waist height yet.
"Okay, Calley to the bathroom, the clothes in the pile near the sink are clean, pile near the shower are dirty. Soap is in the holder, and I think I've done something to the taps accidentally, you have to turn the cold six or seven times before it becomes noticeable. He pushed the door open and left the shape shifter to it, he walked to his bed and sat. "So meld, you going straight, or are we here purely to visit myself and Caleb? He smiled as best he could, because he had serious doubts about Meld actually converting to the socially acceptable side of the law.
Posted by vampyremage on Nov 14, 2009 12:25:31 GMT -6
Guest
Meld just wasn't sure what to make of Calley. She thought she liked the shapeshifter, was pretty sure in fact that she did, but he was unlike anyone she had ever associated with before. Or, perhaps that wasn't entirely true but he was certainly unlike anyone she had associated with prior to discovering her mutation and getting involved in the criminal underground. The boy, and in many ways he did seem that despite not being that much younger than she herself was, had a sense of humour and mischief about him that she had yet to encounter in another mutant. Was it really possible to be both a mutant and maintain a light hearted view of the world? Before meeting Calley she would have been disinclined to say no, but his antics clearly proved otherwise. But it was something to consider for another day.
"Enjoy your shower," Meld called out as Calley finally made his exit. She hoped she had schooled her expression well enough to hide her confused ponderings but wasn't sure that she had. Oh well, in this rare instance she didn't mind tooooo much if either of the others picked up on her thoughts. They weren't trying to kill her or undermine a mission, after all and Calley at least she thought she might even be able to call a tentative friend. Maybe. She wasn't sure about Alchemist but for the moment at least he didn't appear to be a threat.
Meld was interupted from her ponderings by Alchemist's questioning of her reasons for being there. She bowed her head slightly, allowing just enough of her authentic emotion to come into her expression to be believable but not enough to appear vulnerable. Even in such times as these she hated to appear weak.
"Believe it or not, Alchemist, my views on mutants are not nearly as...extreme as many within the other side. I only want what's best for my people and, I believe, that involves learning to work with all sorts of mutants, including those who live here and have a less bloody outlook on things. My compatriots did not approve and so now here I am." She shrugged nonchalantly. All of it truth, though not all of that truth spoken allowed. Hopefully it would be enough.
“I shall!” The teenager replied, with a firm nod of head, and a stealthy closing of the door. And locking it. Because a man willing to finger-lick you in the presence of a lady might or might not be deterred by shut doors.
…He could tell by the odor which pile was the clean clothes. Or, rather, which were the unclean clothes. (Unclean, unclean.) In light of this, he viewed the soap with a critical air, and scrubbed off its highly suspect top layer under the tap while he tried to get the water not to boil his hands. (Another reason to lock the door: to prevent against wayward toilet-flushings.) Finally, with a great longing for shower flip-flops, Calley stepped into the tub.
Hark, le rising smell of butter, drifting upon the steam. Hark, le soaping thoroughly over an unprecedented percentage of his body. When was the last time he’d showered, come to think of it? Tongue bathed, of course, on a regular basis: but showered? There was something distinctly odd about voluntarily standing in front of hot, pounding water. Effective, but odd.
The scrubbing continued. Behind ears, between appendages, and—with some buttery soapy yoga—on all areas of his back. Some minor scuffling and clunking and occasional dropping could be heard through the bathroom door. Suffice it to say, this would take a moment.
Cafas nodded. It was reasonable. From the bathroom he could hear the water running and could see the stem leaking under the door. Someone had not turned the fan on. He'd made that mistake; his bed sheets hadn't been properly dry since then, although that was possibly assisted by his lack of drying them. He looked back to the seemingly predominantly metal mutant. "The fact that there are those more... bloody in their outlook than you is a scary prospect in itself, but then, I'm not particularly surprised."
'Meld is scary... but the idea that there are worse is... not good.'
He looked down and considered exactly how he felt about killing. He didn't feel it was the best tactic, but he certainly knew it could be very effective. If only it involved less... ignorance. Ignorance of what you were sending that person toward. One day, he mused, he would find out, but until that day he would continue to despise the ignorance in the actions. After all, it wasn’t as if he went around slaughtering millions, he tried to avoid killing at all if possible, as of yet he hadn’t taken a human life that he could think of. He considered it a last resort.
’When all else fails, make it look like an accident.’
He approached the mirror and looked into it. He saw himself, but mostly he saw someone who desperately wanted to set the world straight, down to the last single celled organisms. He tried not to think of what it would involve to get there, but he knew he would do it. No more bigots and murderers, the crimes would be on the spot arrests.
’But am I worthy to hold that power? Can I be trusted with it? The simple answer…’
”No… no I can’t.” Damned Meld, making him think about deep stuff, it always seemed to happen around her. For now, he would talk to her. ”You know, since I’ve been in this city I’ve noticed something. Mutants, for all that we’re supposedly superior, are as human as the Homo sapiens we have evolved from. Those that want equality between the two don’t seem prepared to do what is necessary to achieve it, and those that are seem to be the fanatics. I’m not an idiot, I watch the news, and I’ve seen the war we’re fighting, and there seems to be no middle ground between reckless violence and extreme pacifism. Maybe I’m not looking deep enough into this, but it saddens me to think that sentient life forms are so blinded by their beliefs.” He turned from the mirror to Meld, frowning, not angrily, but more upset. ”I mean, where the hell is the balance?”.
Posted by vampyremage on Nov 18, 2009 16:55:05 GMT -6
Guest
Meld carefully watched Alchemist's expression as he listed to what she had to say and then spent time thinking about it. For the second time she got the impression that he was one of the more reasonable mutants around, possibly one of the few reasonable mutants around. She wasn't sure that he held her strong convictions, and yet it seemed to her that perhaps he was more willing to admit than many of the others staying at The Mansion, that at times violence might be necessary. But he also seemed to have a streak of practicality within him that many within the Order were lacking. Clearly violence was not his chosen course of action unless it was absolutely necessary and that was something Meld could respect. She knew that she, herself, resorted to it more than she probably should and sometimes that was to her regret. Perhaps it would do some good for her to associate with someone who had more moderate views. Someone who wasn't likely to preach at her and yet might be able to moderate some of her darker tendencies. It was something to consider.
Meld grinned at Alchemist's reaction that there were more bloody individuals than herself around. "I don't shy from violence, as you know. But there are those out there that embrace it with far more tenacity and far more fervor than I ever could. For me violence is a means to an end. For some of them its a way of life, an end in and of itself." There were times when she secretly wished she could live like that, life for the hunt and the kill in the same way that Aura or even Isabel seemed to. But she could never live with herself then and she knew it. The only way she had come to accept the darkness within herself, an undeniable darkness, was because she put it to good use. She used her personal demon in the furtherment of her cause and to do otherwise would be...unacceptable.
"I agree with you," Meld said. Perhaps, she reflected, that would surprise him. "Mutants are superior to humans, the fact is unquestionable. But being superior is different than being perfect, far different. And, as you've said, we are still, at our core, human. Our hearts and our minds are as human as they are. We must strive not only to better the cause and the position of our people, but also to better ourselves. Once we have gained what he seek to achieve, that won't be the end of it, only another beginning. First we prove ourselves as equals. Then, through our actions and our thoughts, we seek to overcome the weaknesses that tie us to our human heritage. Only then can we truly be what we are meant to be." She wondered how many other mutants thought in this way, how many others admitted that there was more to being superior than simple strength of power. It came down to integrity, focus, moral superiority as well as physical. They had the physical down, but were just as flawed morally and emotionally as any human ever was.
And then Meld considered where she, herself would be in the new world that she was helping create. She was among the most morally flawed of all, wed to violence in a way that she could never entirely separate herself from. For now her violence served its purpose but what about when that purpose was no longer necessary? Where would she be then? The thought of that time disturbed her and she struggled to make her face impassive against the sudden onset of unwanted emotion.
"More need to learn the merits of balance," Meld agreed. "That, as much as anything, is why I'm here. If only mutants of different philosophies could learn to work together, augmenting each others strength and helping to balance out their weaknesses. Imagine what we could accomplish then?" She spoke with her usual passion.
It is incredibly hard to wash off a full-body buttering. Incredibly. Hard. It was like trying to catch a greased pig, except you were the pig. And the pig was trying to hold soap. And soap? Not the easiest thing to hold in the first place.
Nonetheless, being a talented young man, Calley Swartz triumphed over the might of Orville Redenbacher, and victoriously shut off the tap.
So. Towels. There... was a questionable one, over there. Veeeeery questionable.
Several minutes later, a somewhat wet-cat-haired Calley stepped out in a cloud of didn’t-put-on-the-fan steam, dressed in somewhat ill fitting clothes that somewhat suited him. Difference between his human form and Alchemist’s height: six inches. How many clothes he’d worn in recent months with that size difference: a lot.
“So, umm,” he interrupted their conversation. “I used your other clean clothes for a towel. Who’s ready for dinner?” Grin, grin, grin.
Dinner... Mmmm. Calley looked a bit ridiculous and he hoped dearly that his clean clothes would dry sometime in the next week before he really had to change but at least now the boy was done spreading steam all over his cosy room. As a mouse he hadn't been so troublesome, but for the annoyingly small thing, but C.J. was sure he would recover from waking up with a mouse in his room eventually. After all it could hardly be considered surprising, what with the level of hygiene. He had cleaned most of it, but for the bathroom. He had grown fond of his floodrobe however and thought perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad just to leave it. Yes, leaving it was good. Continuing their conversation, maybe not, he still had no idea where Calley’s allegiances were and he was not about to test them. No, now was time to go out on the town, get some chow. ”It’s fine Calley, although there is a spare towel next to the sink, just clear the socks off of it, it should’ve been fine. As for dinner I don’t know about you guys but I’m feeling rather low on cash but high on quality... Suggestions anyone? Actually Japanese would be nice.” As he finished his stomach gurgled slightly, resenting the fact that despite still smelling of butter there was none left on Calley.
’Yeah, Japanese...’
He looked between the rather menacing figure of meld and the comical figure of Calley and wondered what food they liked. Calley liked popcorn, he already knew that, but would they agree on anything else? Meld seemed to have a taste for surprising him, so he was going with Vietnamese on that front. Their little group wasn’t particularly dressed for a night out, what with the metal and oversized clothes, or just a little daggy like he looked. Yes they would look very fancy in the streets of New York. Hopefully this trip with Meld would end without mutilation and gunfire.
Posted by vampyremage on Nov 22, 2009 15:51:13 GMT -6
Guest
Meld felt some relief when Calley made his way out of the bathroom and interrupted their conversation, even if he was dressed a little unusually. In fact, if anything she felt a certain respect for him and his obvious uncaring about the opinions of others when it came to his physical appearance. Even discounting Meld's visible metal mutations, she had always prided herself on being an individual and not following any trends. It appeared as if Calley felt much the same way, even if his views tended more towards uncaring rather than actively trying to do something unique. She nodded supportively in his direction.
"Japanese sounds fine," Meld agreed with Cafas. "In fact anything cheap sounds fine." Money was, unfortunately, an issue for her right at the moment. She had spent the last bit of her ill gotten wealth on the forging of her tail and she had no current prospects for gaining more money. Staying at the Mansion limited her options in some ways as she was fairly certain the higher ups wouldn't approve of her usual techniques for gaining money; mainly scoping out an anti-mutant target and robbing them blind, sometimes with the added benefit of rivers of anti-mutant blood. Something told her that wouldnt' go over so well just at the moment.
"So...either of you know where I might go to gain some money?" Meld figured it was worth a try.
>> ”It’s fine Calley, although there is a spare towel next to the sink, just clear the socks off of it, it should’ve been fine. As for dinner I don’t know about you guys but I’m feeling rather low on cash but high on quality... Suggestions anyone? Actually Japanese would be nice.”
Under the socks, yes. The dubious, dubious socks. ‘Dubious’ was really the theme of Cafas’ bathroom: if dubious were a color, he’d have dubiously painted walls and an off-dubious shower curtain. Meld nodded in clear support, as if she understood his toweling dilemmas. He appreciated her sympathy.
“This ‘Japanese’ of which you speak,” Calley pondered; “never have I had it. Sounds raw and fishy.” Calley’s stomach purred. “...I am unopposed to raw and fishy.”
>> "Japanese sounds fine. In fact anything cheap sounds fine."
From what Calley knew, Japanese dining did not equate to cheap. But Calley also knew he had ridiculous amounts of money in the bank, due to past Kabal employment. Much more than a boy who spent most of his time living as an animal ever needed. “Madam, do you or do you not remember that this dinner is in celebration of opposable thumbs? And nay, fair Lady—not just any opposable thumbs. My opposable thumbs. And my opposable thumbs insist that your opposable thumbs desist from all attempts to pay for tonight’s dining, lest they waggle at you in the greatest of offence.” He waggled one of his thumbs preemptively, as a stern warning.
>> "So...either of you know where I might go to gain some money?"
“The Full Circle Bookstore,” Calley replied promptly. “Ghosty’s place. She loves to hire people; especially if you giver her kitty eyes.” These being a higher form of puppy eyes.
Calley grinned as they meandered through the door, and towards the general direction of the Mansion’s exit, via his other room (for to make with the collection of his wallet). “Com’on, Meld—let’s see your best kitty eyes. You can practice! We shall make it so that Ghost’s will power crumbles before you even open your mouth.”
C.J. liked the idea of Calley paying, it meant he didn't have to. Although kitty eyes didn't sound cute... more arrogant and spiteful, yeah, that summed up the way cats looked at people perfectly. Oh well, they could be cute, but still, no time to wait and ponder, it was eating time. Though where they could go was beyond him. Damned New York. C.J. rushed to the bathroom and grabbed some stuff from the clean... okay, slightly less dirty, pile, threw it on and grabbed his coat. He considered the weapons that were currently in his cupboard. But then he saw Meld and dismissed it, they had a walking weapon. Maybe it wasn't polite to think that way, but really, she was like an arsenal. All she needed was a mini gun or missile pod on her shoulder and they could send her to war. Come to think of it, even those weren't really necessary.
'Plus I couldn't survive a missile blast...'
He headed out after Calley toward the exit, tonight could end up... fun. Yeah that's how it could end, but how would it end? Well, likely still fun. Positive outlook always appreciated. He was surprising himself as well, he was making friends of sorts, though Meld was a mutant supremacist and Calley seemed to be a little crazy. Ah, he had such taste in people. "Um, does anyone here have a car? I sure as hell am not walking into the city, that's freaking miles!" He also had a grudge against the underground rail system. Something about being shot at by people you meet places tends to put you off said places. He didn't know if he could survive another ride.
Posted by vampyremage on Nov 29, 2009 18:15:31 GMT -6
Guest
"I appreciate the offer for free food," Meld stated. She had no issues taking advantage of the generosity of others, particularly when it was obvious that such generosity would not in any way harm the giver of such gifts. Plus, she actually like Calley, or at least she thought she probably did, it was a little hard to tell sometimes with that particular individual. But for now she would go with liking him.
As far as the prospect of kitty eyes went, however, she wasn't quite sure she was up to the challenge of kitty eyes. For that matter she wasn't even quite sure what kitty eyes entailed. Instead she rose her tail over her head and blinked at Calley with a glowing red tail eye. It wasn't quite kitty eyes, she was fairly certain, but it was the best she could do. "I'm not quite sure that working retail is the smartest thing I could do," Meld said with a slight hesitation and an apologetic tone. "People tend to be afraid of me. And I'm kind of known in some circles for committing certain not very nice acts to certain not very nice people." Quite the understatement of the year since those not nice acts involved the murder and torture of countless anti-mutant humans.
"I'm afraid I have no car," Meld spoke up, "but there is always the subway." Seeing Alchemist's expression and remembering the last subway trip the two of them had shared, she got the distinct impression that he wasn't too keen on the subway. "Or, we could always pool our funds for a cab."
“Not free!” Calley corrected, turning on his heel to walk backwards. Just for a bit. He grinned at Meld. “Madam, haven’t you ever heard ‘no such thing as free Japanese cuisine’? Need I remind you, again, of the triumphant occasion we celebrate, with all due splurging?” He waggled his thumbs at her, once more.
And then her tail waggle-kitty-blinked back at him.
Huh. “Not bad,” he concluded, with optimistically dubious cheer. “For a first try. We’ll... work on that. Make sure to keep up a practice regimen: kitty-tail-eyes on at least three people a day. When they start wibbling and asking how they can help you, that’s when you know you’ve got the hang of it.” Nod, nod. Confident nod. Calley turned back on his heel, and walked the forwards-facing way again.
>> "I'm not quite sure that working retail is the smartest thing I could do. People tend to be afraid of me. And I'm kind of known in some circles for committing certain not very nice acts to certain not very nice people."
“Oh, yeah.” Calley winced sympathetically. “The murders. Huh. Are you still doing those, or are you going cold-turkey?” He scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. He’d, ah, seen her on TV. And on file fronts, while he was collecting his semi-monthly donuts from an NYPD detective’s hand. She liked to feed stray cats: he liked to take advantage of it. A good system, for all parties involved.
“On the bright side,” he started, with his habitual grin quirking on his lips, “at least people seem to care when you kill people.” And noticed, when she did. He’d had to tell people.
>> "Um, does anyone here have a car? I sure as hell am not walking into the city, that's freaking miles!"
>> "I'm afraid I have no car, but there is always the subway. Or, we could always pool our funds for a cab."
Small wince. Yeah: cars. On the note of killing people... Calley wasn’t planning to get another of those, any time soon. Buses were in, but subway wasn’t: the nearest stop was still a pretty far hike.
Or cabs.
Calley blinked, as one pulled up outside the gates, and sat idling. The middle-aged man at the wheel turned towards them, with a friendly lift of his eyebrows.
“Huh,” Calley said, moving to get in. “I think that’s our ride.”
((ooc: The cabbie is an NPC Iron Mouth and Katrina have been using a lot; he always knows when to show up to give people rides. Feel free to play him; he’s just a nice guy who never mentions whether or not he’s actually a mutant.
Also: feel free to move us into the city/to the restaurant, either of you!))