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 arrowatch on Feb 27, 2010 2:45:57 GMT -6
Guest
((OOC: Sorry about disappearing. Back. Looks like a new posting order?))
Anthony watched as Meld challenged the restaurant. He was starting to get sick of the 'Poor and Downtrodden' routine. Anthony had a hard time sympathizing with racists, but this was ridiculous by his standards. Until the door opened.
"You were right, Jack. Heh, could feel the stink of them all the way out on the street. This is a human place. You muties have your own hangouts. Now get lost."
Anthony felt his fur bristle. The man had the looks of some street tough given an inch of rope, with which Anthony felt like hanging him. Anthony started to spit out a retort, when he noticed Chris standing closer to the door then previous. Chris might freak out, or he might get hurt. Anthony could handle getting beat up, maybe, but he didn't want to see Chris get hurt.
Anthony decided to focus their attention on him and hope Meld didn't actually kill anyone. Raising his arms out wide, Anthony practiced the motions he would make in his head. Fling, Snatch, Jump, Kick. Fling, Snatch, Jump, Kick.
"I agree, which is why I'm here, and you are outside. Can't let an ugly freak like you in!"
Anthony flung Dilbert towards the man's face, snatched his practice batons from his pants, Took a two step running jump across the distance, and planted a side kick into the man's gut, knocking him in the street. He followed the man's falling body outside, and tossed a comment over his shoulder.
"Non-lethal, effective, immediate. Okay, kung-fu-borg, let's see what you got!"
Anthony wasn't sure why he had led with fighting as a first option. Eh, if she says anything later, I'll blame Irish blood. Haven't been in a decent fight in too long. Well, not one that I've started, anyway.
Posted by vampyremage on Feb 27, 2010 15:44:29 GMT -6
Guest
"This is a human place. You muties have your own hangouts. Now get lost."
Meld felt cold anger enter her body at the words. At first there had just been amusement at Anthony's bird chasing antics and the reactions it was causing among the humans, but that comment brought things too far. She was used to the discrimination that humans felt towards mutants, used to the looks and occasional comments made when they thought there was no one around to hear. But this, this was worse. This was the sort of anti-mutant racism that she could not tolerate, would not tolerate. This was the reason why mutants like Chris had been forced to remain in the shadows, hiding from human anger.
"I agree, which is why I'm here, and you are outside. Can't let an ugly freak like you in!"
Meld felt her metal tail twitch. If comments were kept to themselves she was usually willing to leave them alone with their predjuidce, but this was different. They were now making a challenge and it was a challenge that they would not live longh to appreciate. Many in the mansion preached of anti-violence and certainly preached against the act of killing. Meld herself was more particular in the victims she chose than some in her former place of residence, Sanctuary. But those words and those actions invited death and she was happy to oblige them.
"Non-lethal, effective, immediate. Okay, kung-fu-borg, let's see what you got!"
Meld completely ignored Anthony's words. He might deal with his targets in non-lethal ways, but she would deal with her own in her own way. In a moment she ran towards the man who had initally demanded the three of them leave and in another moment she struck. In the length of time it took to take a breath, less perhaps, the blades at the end of her tail entered his neck and exited again, blood spurting everywhere. He didn't even have a chance to react. She turned around to look at the rest of those remaining int he restaurant, awaiting their responses. No mercy for those who perpetrated hatred against her kind. She felt nothing but icy anger.
Chris would have been more than happy to just walk away from the place, but it was obvious that the men were looking for a fight. They were blocking the door, so Chris looked around after other possible exits. Through the kitchen? Through a window? >>"I agree, which is why I'm here, and you are outside. Can't let an ugly freak like you in!" Suddenly Anthony flung the bird towards one of the men's face and then attacked, kicking him out into the street without too much trouble. It looked like he had been serious about the self-defense. The man landed on his back in the slush outside, sliding past his buddies. Anthony quickly followed him out.
In the meantime, Chris caught a glimpse of Meld's eyes. She seemed to be very concentrated on the man in front of her... and then, almost faster than the eye could catch, her tail blades plunged into the man's neck. He died immediatly, with blood gushing out through the wound. Frankly, it was hard to believe that a single human body could contain so much blood. "Shit!" Chris stood staring at the scene with wide, shocked eyes. It was the second time he'd seen someone die. The humans in the restaurant had slower reaction time than he had, so it took a couple of seconds before they realized what had happened. Then the screaming started. People rose to their feet, knocking their chairs to the ground, and started to push their way to the other end of the restaurant. As far away from Anthony, Meld and the dead man as possible. Chris got a hard shove in the chest - it wasn't intentional, the man who'd pushed him had his eyes on the emergency exit and had barely noticed that a young mutant stood in his way - but it still knocked him to the ground.
He could hear screams from the outside. "What the fuck!!" "She killed him!" "C'mon, let's get them!" The man who Anthony had kicked was still lying on the ground, but two of his friends pulled their switchblades and attacked him. The three men who were left entered the restaurant. Two of them attacked Meld, without further ado - they were also yielding switchblades. The third man noticed Chris, who just had rose up, and decided that the short mutant was a better target than the one who had sharp blades attached to her body. Chris saw the man coming charging towards him and looked at the emergency exit - it was no use to escape that way, all the panicked humans tried to go out through the door at the same time - and then flung himself out of the way.The man slashed at him again, and again - Chris enhanced reflexes and the adrenaline pumping through his body made it possible to keep avoiding the knife. But every step he backed brought him closer to the wall, and soon he would be cornered.
Posted by arrowatch on Mar 1, 2010 23:31:45 GMT -6
Guest
Anthony smiled for a second, as the men around him stutter stepped in hesitation. Then he realized they weren't looking at him. Anthony didn't turn around to see. He closed his eyes in the momentary silence. He could smell blood. And then the world erupted. Bystanders began screaming, and crashing sounds came from in the restaurant. The thugs began yelling, but Anthony could hear them over the sound of the inner silence screaming in his ears.
Meld had killed a man. But why? Anthony had been the one to initiate aggression. There had been no counter-actions. There hadn't even been time. But Anthony knew without looking that she had killed him. Anthony didn't have time to consider what that meant about meld or police.
Anthony opened his eyes and watched as rage began to stoke the thugs boilers. They peeled off into groups, two for Anthony, 3 for Meld (or so Anthony hoped) and little switchblades were drawn. 3 men went into the Restaurant, and Anthony ignored them. The 2 facing him were enough.
The world was still for a moment. The two thugs (defenders, now, in Anthony's eyes) took a moment to size him up. A baton in each hand, Anthony stood shirtless in the cold weather. His fur wasn't enough to keep a cold wind from biting his skin, and his shorts hadn't been weather appropriate. Anthony reached up and re-tightened the pony tail keeping his hair up, and kept his back to the restaurant door. He knew no one would be attacking him from that direction, and it was half to keep the three men outside safe from what was inside.
Kali, goddess of Death.[/color]
Anthony's mind wandered as the first strike came from the left. Black hair, white skin, levi jacket, knife low and wide. They had a little experience, apparently, but not enough. Anthony parried with his left, pushing the man's hand into a more manageable position, high and wide, and his right hand cracked the man's jaw. Anthony turned sideways and used his shoulders to push the man back.
The second attack came a blink after that, at Anthony's exposed back, but that's what Anthony expected. Shorter, broader. Black hoodie, blonde hair. Anthony sprang sideways, using his superior agility to evade the strike. Simple stab, from close to the chest. Both attackers were right handed, apparently.
Anthony let them catch their bearings. They began more cautiously this time. The stood closer to each other, elbows bent, knives in front. Stab fron Blondie, slash from Black. Parry stab, block slash. Quick jab or smack, to keep them off balance. Anthony toyed with them. They were training dolls. They were nobodies. They were toys.
Anthony dropped his batons during one clumsy strike from Blondie and grabbed the man's wrist. He drove his elbow into the man's throat, and stripped the knife as he fell, coughing. Anthony dipped and jumped sideways out of the striking Black's path. Anthony felt more then saw the opening this made for him, and he jumped forward, eyes on the ground. He wrapped his arms around the knife arm and held the recently stolen blade to Black's throat. He had the, momentary, urge to end the man's life. The knife drew a razor thin line along the skin below the chin.
A deep breath cleansed Anthony's thoughts, and brought the smell of blood to his nose. Black was gasping for breath, and he whimpered a little. Anthony gently walked him over to Blondie and stepped on Blondie's back as he tried to get up.
"Drop the knife. Grab your friend. Run, run and don't look back." When the knife clattered to the ground, Anthony shoved Black, grabbed the second knife, and moved away from all three, brining him closer to the body. Anthony finally looked towards the restaurant, dread creeping into his heart with each muscle that obeyed the order to turn.
Posted by vampyremage on Mar 31, 2010 12:55:32 GMT -6
Guest
It felt good to let herself go in the throes of battle, better than she would be willing to admit to almost anyone should they ask. Meld's first and only cause was, of course, the mutant cause but it was within the confines of conflict and death, hers or her enemies, when she truly excelled in furthering the cause. She was built for battle, quite literally, and although there were numerous other ways in which she bettered the state of mutant existence everywhere, none of those were as natural or as satisfying as causing her enemies to bleed and die. Afterwords she might feel regret at the loss of life, afterwords when the monster within her had been wrestled down into the depths of her subconscious, but for now there was only the unique clarity that came with knowing who your enemies were and what you needed to do to end their lives before they ended yours. The monster within her needed to be released, needed to feed, in order so that it might be contained at a later date. And what better time to allow it free reign than now with her enemies, the enemies of mutants everywhere, all around?
Meld heard the screaming and the panic that her actions caused and it brought a dark sadistic smile to her lips. Ah, terror was a beautiful thing, was it not? The panicking humans, however, did not concern her. What concerned her were the two not so panicking humans in front of her, the two stupid mortals wielding switchblades with the intent to kill in their eyes. The enemies who had chosen her were more than enough to keep her inner monster well fed and contented, let the other humans, the innocents, escape as they would. Only those who dared to try and lay a hand on her or the other mutants would feel her wrath and oh, letting out that wrath would feel so very good indeed.
The first thug before Meld lunged at her with his pitiful little knife and she deflected it, almost lazily, with her metal shield. She growled at him and he paled but stood his ground. Stupid human, didn't he realize that he was about to die? The second thug tried to stab her from the other side, perhaps thinking he'd have more of a chance since she didn't have a shield on that side. Knife approached and Meld side stepped. Instead of the knife digging into her soft human flesh, her metal hand grabbed hold of the flesh and blood hand of the ignorant fool, causing him to scream shrilly as metal claws dug deep into the flesh of his wrist. Meld paused a moment to revel in his pain and the smell of blood and the pause almost caused her serious injury as her second enemy once again attempted to eviscerate her with his knife. The knife slid off her her very human hip, casing a deep red gash, before she managed to wrap her tail tightly around the arm wielding the knife. He panicked and dropped it.
It was a shame, really, that these humans were so unskilled, it wasn't even a challenge to kill them. At least the cops presented a challenge, occasionally. Meld closed her fist tighter around thug number one's wrist and cut the veins on the underside of his wrist, causing blood to spurt out in large amounts. If he didn't get medical attention he would die from blood loss, in only a few minutes if she judged correctly. The second thug continue to struggle to get himself free of her tail. With some effort she lifted her tail up above her head, not letting go of her stupid victim, and flung him violently against a wall, letting him go at the last possible moment. Well, that was a fun little experiment. She hadn't realized she had the strength to do that. How very satisfying. Her pleasure was short lived, however, as a blink of her tail eye showed her the difficulty that Chris found himself in. Chris who could not fight and could not kill on his own.
Dodge. Dodge. Sidestep. Dodge. Chris concentrated on the knife, trying to block out everything else. He had to ignore the screams, the smell of blood, the enemy's manic grin. The guy in front of him wasn't as quick as him, but if Chris got distracted at the wrong moment it could be fatal. The knife-wielding man didn't seem to notice all the screaming that was going on around them - he was totally concentrated on his task. But he seemed to realize that just slashing would get him nowhere, so instead he tried with technique. He feinted right and then then attacked from the left, the knife moving so fast it mostly looked like a steely flash. Chris barely managed to back away from it.
He managed to glance sideways and noticed that the way to the emergency exit was almost cleared. All he had to do was to keep dodging while always moving towards the door. Maybe I'll survive after all... But then he felt his right foot slip. While keeping his concentration on the knife in front of him and the emergency door he'd stepped on a decorative rug a little too carelessly. It almost felt like he fell in slow motion, feeling the dread build up inside of him.
He landed on his behind in a very ungraceful way and immediately put down his arms and knees on the floor too rise up - but then he felt a sudden blow to his chest. The man had kicked him so hard that he lost his breath and toppled over, landing on his back. He lay there and tried to catch his breath while the grinning man leaned down over him, knife ready.
Posted by arrowatch on Apr 5, 2010 17:44:22 GMT -6
Guest
The human body usually contains 6 quarts, 5.6 liters, of blood. A person can safely lose about 2 quarts, about .47 liters. Anthony was sure that both of the men inside were rapidly approaching that limit, considering the blood he could see. He stepped inside, and heard a dull, wet thud. When he looked towards the sound, he saw blood streaked on the wall, with a man underneath it. Closer to the door, also on the ground, was a man holding his wrist.
The cut looked deep, Anthony thought hard. Those arteries didn't bleed out too fast, the cops would probably be on their way, here in less then 10 minutes. Hard to tell if the cut was high enough up to sever both the arteries and the veins. If it was both, he'd be dead just after the cops arrived, long before paramedics arrived. The other man- The other man was certainly dead.
Anthony felt himself growing angrier. This woman, if she could be called that, had killed two men in less time then it had taken for him to ruin their meal. He looked at her and saw blood on her. There couldn't have been a better metaphor to fit it, either. Even her hips had blood on i-
Anthony gave a start as he realized she was bleeding, and he looked a little closer. She was looking over at someone-
A thug was smiling wickedly as he leered down at-
"CHRIS!" Anthony yelled as he saw a thug, low life and contemptible, worthless, unworthy of his status as human, crouching over the helpless Chris Berg, holding one of those damnable little knives. Anthony palmed a baton and aimed, instinct and training taking over.
The practice baton flew straight and true where Anthony threw it. Truly bad. It flew harmlessly a foot or two away from the thug, and smashed into a bottle of soy sauce.
Posted by vampyremage on Apr 6, 2010 11:52:31 GMT -6
Guest
Anger was not a force that generally drove her actions, at least not such hot irrational anger. She felt anger, of course, anger at the bigoted racist humans who made the lives of mutants so difficult, but she rarely acted on that anger without due consideration. Her anger was a frigid intellectual thing: anger at the injustices of the world and when acting upon it she always stopped to consider the best way to act. Many wouldn't believe such a thing of Meld, given her perpencity for violence, but it was true and Kealey the empath, who she had met some months ago, had seen that for herself. In the midst of a fight her emotions were even more suppressed than they normally were. It was about kill or be killed and even the rush of pleasure that she got from the causing of death and pain was something in the background, not something to properly control her actions, just something there in the periphery. It was something she had learned during the first years of knowing the was a mutant while working for organized crime groups. Emotion got in the way and led to carelessness and in the game of survival, all such liabilities must be left behind.
Occasionally, however, Meld was not able to relegate her emotions to the background. Dangerous enough that her pleasure instinct was so close to the surface, so close to actually influencing her actions; worse that she could feel a rare hot anger coming up in her at the fact that these thugs were trying to kill Chris, who was so obviously defenseless. She saw the baton fly through the air, presumably from Anthony, and miss its target entirely crashing into a beer bottle instead. A valiant effort to be sure but just not enough. Meld was not going to miss in her attack.
Meld growled, feeling adrenaline flood her system. To fight was to live, to have the fear of death so close to the surface was to truly feel alive, even if her opponents were weak and unskilled. Meld leaped and landed on the bag of the man that was kicking Chris, her bladed feet digging deeply into his back. Blood flowed and pain and terror filled screams followed. She felt no sympathies, none. "Get out now," Meld yelled to the crumpled form of Chris. She dug her talons in deeper and as the man fell to the ground, no longer able to maintain his feet, she jumped agilely onto the ground. "I'll cover your back. The police will be coming and we want to be out of here by the time they arrive." She might enjoy the thrill of battle more than she really should, but she was smart enough not to want to mess with the cops.
Chris wasn't able to move, the fear and pain was paralyzing him completely. His eyes widened as the man leaned down over him, closer and closer...
Until the man suddenly grimaced and then started to scream. It took Chris a few moments to see why - Meld sat crouched on his back with her clawed feet digging into his flesh like some kind of prehistoric raptor. The man with the knife staggered under her until he fell to the ground with a heavy thud, still screaming. Meld jumped of his back, and when she did Chris felt a small splatter of blood on his face. He looked at Meld with eyes so wide and round that it looked like they were going to eat up his face. He saw that her lips were moving, but it seemed like he didn't really caught what she was saying. He could hear police sirens in the background.
Then suddenly a jolt went through him, breaking his paralysis. He scrambled up to all four, and then quickly leaped up on his feet. He backed away a few steps with dread showing on his face, turning from Anthony in the doorway to the bleeding, screaming men on the floor to Meld, who had blood dripping from her claws. It was clear that he was almost as afraid of Meld as he'd been of the knife-wielding man right then. He spun around on his heels, so to speak, and crossed the room in just a few seconds. He exited the restaurant through the emergency exit and ran through the alley behind it, still panting heavily after getting his air out. He had no plan and no clear goal - right then he just wanted to put as much distance between himself and the sushi place as possible. Chris didn't think at all, he just ran. The blood still stained his clothes and face. He could hear police sirens in the background.
Anthony felt himself settling from horror to apathy. The thug was leaning closer to Chris, a wicked grin on his face, and Meld was moving. He expected this. And condoned it.
The man was going to kill Chris, who'd done nothing. Literally nothing. His friends were broken and dying, and the man was still trying to kill Chris. He had to have seen the first dead man, no one missed it. He couldn't help but have heard one man be thrown into the wall, or heard the screams. And he still attacked the helpless alien fish boy. Despite himself, he felt black anger, and as Meld did a flying leap, he muttered "Get the bastard."
She dug into the man and forced him to the ground, and began to yell at Chris to get out. He agreed, if not with the next portion.
"I'll cover your back. The police will be coming and we want to be out of here by the time they arrive."
Chris complied. Or is he running in terror? Anthony didn't. "They are all down. I didn't, couldn't, have killed them, the most they can hit me with is an assault charge. Do you have a record? Scratch that. Are you wanted still? Scratch that too, I don't want to know." Anthony looked around for any witnesses in the restaurant, but the place was empty, including staff. Dilbert was on a table, crouched and terrified, under an overturned container of some sort. Chris was already gone.
"Just go. If I don't know where you are going, I can't tell them where you are going." Anthony leaned against the door frame, and slid to the ground. "If I run, I'm accessory. The only one I know deserved this is the one trying to kill Chris. But.. Jesus, just go." Anthony put his head in his hands and stared at the ground through his fingers. He was in the blood from the very first dead man, but other then that, he was clean. A fit metaphor. He was surrounded by blood, and had placed himself in it, but none of it was on his hands. He'd probably saved 3 men's lives. He wasn't responsible for the deaths of the rest. They'd probably deserved it. No one deserves it. Who get's to judge the worth of someone's life? Maybe the first dead man was the voice of reason in the group. Maybe he was with the bad guys because of his guest, because of her killing? But that one bastard deserved it.
Anthony killed his thoughts. The scar on his throat at the thought of the bastard leaning over Chris Berg (Nix that, you don't know his last name) Chris and leering, knife in hand.
"But find me again. I owe you a sparring match, remember?" Anthony smiled and looked outside. No cops yet.
Posted by vampyremage on Apr 7, 2010 11:36:24 GMT -6
Guest
Chris' flight from the building was a little more chaotic and fear driven than Meld would have liked to see but at least he was out of there. He was a smart kid, for all his lack of actual combat training, he would manage to find himself a place of safety. No mutant that looked like him could survive long without a little smarts to back them up, not in the hate filled world that they currently lived in. The most she could hope for was that he'd learn from this day and next time (if there ever was a next time and she hoped for his sake there would not be) he'd be able to defend himself.
Meld calmly walked out of the restaurant, sparing only the briefest glance at the blood and carnage all around her, most of it her own doing. These people had deserved to die, it was only their hatred and intolerance that had led to their own deaths, nothing more and nothing less. The innocents had been allowed to flee and flee they did. Only the guilty had remained and now the guilty were dead, never to be given the opportunity to hurt another mutant.
Anthony's reaction to Meld and her actions was rather amusing and she smiled, though the smile was very dark. Clearly he was not used to conflicts of this kind. "Stay if you want, but a warning to you. Most of the police won't care that you aren't the guilty party. You're a mutant, quite obviously, and for many that's enough. Guilty by reason of your tainted blood. I suggest fleeing. If they don't see you here they won't blame you. My work is known well enough, I suspect they'll know it was me by the type of injury incurred and they won't even think to look for an ally. It's up to you."
With those words Meld ran to the nearest building, dug her claws into the wall and climbed onto the roof. One more backward glance down at Anthony and she began running, jumping from the building she was on onto the roof of the next building. For some reason the cops never seemed to consider looking above their heads.
Posted by arrowatch on Apr 11, 2010 3:52:03 GMT -6
Guest
Anthony watched Meld leave, and heard what she said. He didn't listen, though, since it mostly sounded like blah blah martyr blah tortured soul something about police. And she was probably right, but that didn't mean he didn't feel like being stubborn.
Dilbert trundled within arms length, and Anthony picked up the bird with no trouble. Just get me out of this crazy place, and we'll call it even for the day? Anthony smiled and held onto his bird and his delusions.
The cops arrived a few minutes after Meld had gone spiderman and they weren't happy. There was shouting. And guns drawn. Anthony held onto the pigeon and lay on the ground. They took Dilbert, cuffed Anthony, and threw him into the car. More yelling. They, Anthony and some bland looking officers, drove away as the ambulance arrived. They passed the coroners van a few blocks down. The officer driving spent most of the time muttering and looking over his shoulders at Athony, but so far there didn't seem any problem with his being a mutant. Other than the passenger keeping a shotgun leveled at his face.
Arrival. Processing (still at gun point), classification and records. Mutant status, legal status, health evaluation. Anthony Davids, non-risk. A comforting and belittling thought. Then came interrogation.
"What happened?" "I messed up lunch, we were leaving. Guys picked a fight, I obliged, and then things hit the fan." "You killed them?" "Obviously not. She did." "She? She who? You gave a statement in processing, and it says Meld did this. Meld doesn't have lunch with innocent men. Rumor is she doesn't eat. Or sleep." "She eats." "And this other mutant? Chris, the God-Alien Aquaticus? What the hell does that even mean?" "Well, seems kinda straightforward to me. One part Alien, one part god. Chris, his given name, and Aquaticus, the name I've given him."
The officer stood up and slammed his hands on the table. "Don't screw with me, boy, I've been dealing with your kind tearing up my city for a few years now. And this Meld woman is pretty high on my list of Things That Go Horribly Wrong. Now, I don't have any problem with you, if you cooperate. I don't think you killed them. You're not equipped. But you will tell me how to find Meld. And you will tell me more about this fish man. Or, so help me, I'll put you in a hole so deep you won't see light again till your fur is gray with age."
Anthony sat back. And stared directly into the officer's eyes. "Your El-Tee or one of the detectives should probably be handling this. But they'd just get the same thing as on that report. I'd just met them. I'd never even heard of Meld before today. We had an altercation in an alleyway, an argument over differing point of views. She didn't kill me, so I offered to pay for lunch. We went to lunch. My bird got loose. I knocked over some stuff trying to catch him. We started to leave. Your victims were looking for a fight, and so I gave it to them. Meld took it too far. There are three men out there ALIVE because I fought them and told them to run when I won. There are three men not so fortunate. I could have run, you probably never wouldn't have known. A furry mutant is not so easy to find. And you wouldn't think I would have been there if I hadn't stayed. Anything else, I can't help you. She went up the building across the street. Aquaticus went out a back door. I don't know anything else, except she's kinda cute in a Gwar kind of way, and he's a really nice guy in the wrong place, and almost died for it."
"Instead, other people died. Get him out of here, put him back into holding, a seperate cell from everyone else."
A few days later, Anthony got a chance to make a call. A day after that, his lawyer managed to get his release, with a 'Don't leave, we might have Questions for you' tacked onto it. Not nearly as bad as the bar fight in Seattle, which culminated in a week in prison before anything was sobered up and sorted out.
Anthony held a pet kennel, complete with bird, as he left the police station in department issue sweat shorts. Everything else, including his shoes, socks, and wallet had been deemed physical evidence. Sitting in a blood puddle, not the smartest move. But Anthony felt lucky. Nothing had really happened to him. Again. Alive, unharmed. Unwarranted good luck. Again, unworried. And it made him feel... Useless.