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.
Site adaptation by Sen, Lix, and Tempest. <3
A Series of Unfortunate Events (Cafas, not Calley)
Our story begins on a Wednesday, as all good stories should. A Wednesday, one carefree summer, in the quiet hours of the night.
Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters. The Sister School thereof. Located on a generous expanse of land, built up neatly on a hill top; tucked serenely in the curve where the Harlem River met the Hudson. On a clear day, a day not shrouded in noxious city smog, one could look out towards the rear and spy New Jersey looking back. The Institute was not so very far from Newark, the childhood home of one Caleb Swartz, to whom spying was an erstwhile verb.
This and that are neither here nor there, though, and a twenty-something animal shifter known as Calley had very little and/or absolutely nothing to do with the series of events which traced from that quiet night. He was living in the Sanctuary at the time, you see. It was a very permanent arrangement, as anyone could tell: he’d even taken his lobster with him.
And so, on the second floor of Xavier’s Institute, on the wing holding the older students, on a carefree summer day, in the quiet hours of the night, our book was opened and the first page turned.
It was a Wednesday, and the sheets upon Cafas Johnson’s bed were 72 inches in length. He himself was 6’2”. Multiply six by twelve, add in the two...
Oh my, yes. That was precisely two inches too short.
After a hard day of turning 21 Cafas stumbled to his bed. It looked so nicely made, so nice of the cleaners. It had been quite the day, opened his eyes to a cute blonde with a cake, breakfast and a box shaped item wrapped in some sort of colourful paper, spend a great deal of the day with said blonde and assorted friends.
Finally think he's getting a moment to himself, take a quick shower, get dressed, have a blindfold applied, be dragged outside by a bunch of laughing people, be driven across town. Then it had gotten better.
Turns out in the states one's 21st, in absence of family, was to be spent around loud music, dancing people and copious amounts of alcohol. Cafas had a sneaking suspicion he'd had too much to drink, and that was at 8. Midnight that morning he'd received a veritable barrage of birthday messages. Turns out when one dates someone with lots of friends, they get lots of birthday messages... at midnight... while they try to sleep.
So at nearly 11:50 on his birthday, Cafas, who had managed to get himself taken home prior to midnight with a clever manoeuvre known as the suggestive wink. It had worked a charm, Alex had him out of there in no time at all. In his defence, he was drunk, although he would never accept that excuse from anyone else.
So it was that a rather intoxicated Cafas ended up creeping into his room, with all the stealth of a nuclear strike, and fumbled his way into bed. A certain blonde was not far behind. Cafas stretched out. Nope, didn't work, he tried again. Nope still not working. This was odd, his bed seemed fine! Once more he tried and failed to stretch out. It wasn't working
What is this!
Cafas had to know. he jumped up, leaving a confused looking Alex rollhugkissing a pillow. Had he not been so enraged by his inability to stretch, Cafas may have laughed. Covers were ripped back; bed inspected. That was when he saw it. He had been short sheeted. He knew of very few people with access to his room. He glared at Alex. Had he done this? Had the dragging home been all to prank him? With this? The lowest of lows? Alex looked back confused. "As if you'd do this!" Alex offered only more confusion. "I was out of the room for fifteen minutes to shower and you just have to do this? Something was for certain, some blonde body was not getting any. He had just signed his own prolonging of abstinence order!
The nerve!
Cafas rectified the problem, huffed, got back in bed grumpy, and rolled over and went to sleep. Take that prankster!
Posted by Cheshire on Jul 12, 2011 14:43:20 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Please check as completed:
☑ Drink too much
☑ Leave window shades open
☐ Say hello to Mister Sun-Induced Migraine!
☐ Go to mirror. Smile at magic marker doodles on your face. So creative!
Choose one:
Choose one:
Your formerly blonde man-meat has just come back from his own room, where he may have gone to in the night, abandoning you like an under-paid street walker. His hair is blue. He blames tampering with his shampoo, and you. The appropriate reply for “I told you I didn’t want to dye my hair!” is:
A hung over Cafas was not a happy Cafas. It was in fact a grouchy Cafas. The first thing he noticed as his eyes opened was how much they wanted to close again. So, eyes firmly shut, Cafas groped around for the edge of the bed. He felt sick and needed to pee.
☑ Say hello to Mister Sun-Induced Migraine!
Stumbling out of bed and squinting to find the bathroom door Cafas opened it and practically dived into the dim environment. It was nice in there. First things first, he really needed that pee. However as he relieved himself he felt a disturbance in the force stream. Mostly he sensed it on his feet. Ew. Someone had cling wrapped his toilet. Only one someone had been in his room that night. That someone would get what was coming to him! No more Mr Nice Cafas. He mopped up the mess, removed the offending plastic from his toilet and finished the job at hand.
☑ Oh you gross boy
Having done that Cafas moved on to the wash face portion of his morning. Water splash, water splash, rub. Mirror check for bed hair acceptability as 'meant to be like that' Returned ad negative reading. His eyes turned to the shower, his expression became puzzled and he returned his gaze to the mirror. Face. Marker. Why did he have whiskers? Why indeed, was his entire face now covered in marked drawings. Water scrub, water scrub! No such luck. Okay he was now officially a dead blonde walking.
☑ Go to mirror. Smile at magic marker doodles on your face. So creative!
Okay, shower time. The shower was uneventful, although he thought he noticed a change in the water colour. No doubt club grime. Exiting the shower he attempted to turn the doorknob. It was not pleasant, it was sort of lubricated. The turn function was not working. He didn't have time for that, he was hung-over and grouchy. The door did not offer much resistance once its hinged were detached. Door placed to the side Cafas braved the room.
☑ A little slow in the morning, aren't we?
☑☑☑☑☑☑☑☑☑ Say hello to Mister Sun-Induced Migraine!
Gah! Why was it so bright? What came next however was worse. It was loud. Thumping! Of the thumping! Oh the door opening with the yelling and rapid movement and gesticulating. Why was some blue haired guy yelling at him? Oh wait. Blue haired guy was familiar. Cafas sensed he was meant to be blonde haired guy. Ex-blonde was accusing him. Cafas was not amused. "Shut your face I have a headache, I didn't do that, for one I like your hair colour! On to number two, our hair colours now clash, I wouldn't do that. Anyway, it's not like it matters right?" It was true; the Alex that stood in front of him could change his features and clothes on a whim. He was a veritable instant ken doll, although he couldn't do much to his face, and nothing to his body. His hair style, colour, eye colour, those he had nailed. It shouldn't have been an issue.
Cafas in that moment wished he hadn't said it didn't matter; the shrill yelling that followed reduced his vision to pinpricks and forced him to clamp his hands over his ears. Apparently, according to Alex, he couldn't change through dye. Yell yell yell, Cafas wasn't completely sure that his brains weren't going to explode violently. "Then grow it and cut the blue out you git just stop yelling at me!" The look on Alex’s face said that was too far. The look of about to cry. Embrace, pet, no retractions, but still, shoulder to cry on and all. Cafas figured Alex was likely just as hung over as he was, and very emotional at that, he would forgive him. "C'mon, let's go grab breakfast, I'm thinking a hangover curing feast, or at least something that will taste great both ways."
Posted by Cheshire on Jul 17, 2011 11:01:14 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
There was very little that Cafas’ unnamed bad luck could do to reach him at breakfast. Sure, salt and pepper shakers could (and did) have their tops unscrewed... but there was no controlling whether the hooker or his client would be the ones to use them, when so many other students were involved.
However: Cafas was out of his room. So was the blue-haired temptress. Both areas were unguarded.
This wholesome snuggle-time was not wasted.
A certain Xbox switched rooms; a certain microphone was hidden under a certain perpetual pile of towels, and its sound might or might not have been hooked into the Mansion’s PA system. A shower-time vocalist was about to make his school-wide debut.
There was another boy who went to breakfast that morning. A certain donkey-shifter. He made a point of snarking all over the couple with the clashing hair. His room, too, was left unguarded. But that is a story for another day.
Specifically: the next morning. Friday. When the ass’ undies--all of them--were found flying on the Mansion flagpole. Witnesses reported that the culprit tried to hide his face... but alas, the pink tufts of hair sticking out from under his mask were a dead give-away.
Breakfast had been, in general, uneventful. There had been some hair jokes however a shaker full of salt poured onto someones food just as the door to the kitchen was closed for cleaning put an end to that. He had to admit he felt a strong satisfied sort of feeling watching that ass starve. Still he was beginning to suspect something was going on that day. It was rather odd to say the least that so much appeared to be going wrong around him. Perhaps he had developed a secret luck manipulating power. It didn't seem as plausible as a mystery prankster. The prankster would be dealt with harshly if caught. Very harshly indeed. For the time however Cafas would have to just get on with life. Breakfast was over, his relationship seemed patched up, time for a hot shower.
Wonder what colour my hair's coming out as... I hope it isn't blue. That would be way too hard to dye over.
Shower time for Cafas pretty much translated into embarrassing songs singing time. It was normally perfectly fine. No-body was in his room so he was safe from that. Or so he had thought. There was no way to hear the PA in the shower unfortunately so Cafas had no idea what was going on outside his room. The raucous laughter at his not bad rendition of 'I need a Hero' may have convinced him to stop could he hear it. As it was he finished the set and left the stage. While dressing he could have sworn every person who walked past his door was laughing or giggling but simply assumed he had missed another of the pranksters jokes. Determined not to be associated with said prankster Cafas decided to stay in his room and play videogames.
...
...
...
Maybe he'd just go visit his newly blue haired boyfriend. Where the hell his x-box was he would find out later, he was sure it hadn't left his room and was potentially merely a victim of a summer cleaning spree. On his way Cafas passed a guy giggling and singing 'I need a Hero' himself. It seemed plausibly coincidental. After the next three he was a little more suspicious. By the time he got to his destination he was considering kicking the door in and being very direct in his intention to beat the reason for a betrayal of trust and personal privacy out of the little sneaky bastard. He refrained from breaking the door in and knocked instead. The door swung open and Alex's face appeared grinning like an idiot back at him. "Nice gig, you should take it on the road." Cafas twitched in the face eye region. "Can it you asshole, I trusted you! Why would you do this? Who put you up to it? That jack ass shifter? Promise you popularity did he?" Alex looked puzzled and angry. "I didn't do anything, stop being a paranoid jerk! I haven't even been in your room without you there!" It was at that point that a certain white box of gaming caught a certain pink haired males eye. That, was the final piece of evidence he needed. "If you haven't been in my room kindly explain how it is that you got my goddamned X-Box!?!" yeah, that had Alex stumped.
oh the things I feel like saying right now.
Cafas pushed past Alex and grabbed his console, turned and stormed back out, back to his room. He had his videogames running in no time flat and was halfway through killing some guy in the most painful way he could, simulated of course, when his door was opened, his screen was blocked and the game over music played. He recognized the uniform. Apparently, he was in trouble. As he was marched out of his room he had the circumstances explained to him, apparently due to some confused witnesses he was being blamed for hoisting the donkey shifters undies up the flag pole. That, and everything else that day, and with no Alex to provide an alibi it appeared he had no defense.
You have the wrong person guys, I was in my room, and I'm fairly sure people would gave made mention of pink hair. he was standing in front of a few mansion officials, apparently up on trial for trouble making. "Funny you should say that..." but that was as much as Cafas heard, he had stopped paying attention, he only knew one person at the mansion who could change hair colour on a whim and boy was he gonna pay.
One apology later he was literally kicking in Alex's door. Alex seemed rather confused but Cafas didn't let him speak. "You are a traitor and backstabber, and if I ever speak to you again it will certainly not be a willing thing. You and me, we're over." Then, Cafas stormed out, back to his room, punched a wall and had a tantrum, after removing the microphone, of course.
((This took like an hour and a half on my phone lol I appologise for any suck contained within, let me know if you want anything changed.))
Posted by Cheshire on Aug 22, 2011 19:47:41 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Calley honestly and truthfully knew nothing of the breakup. But he supported it. For his friend Cafas’ sake.
“Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the Gods…” The Italian sang quietly to himself, as he innocuously walked down the hall, an empty laundry basket in his arms. Not that he would know, but Cafas should be pretty busy with certain administrative officials right now. He hadn’t heard, but there’d been quite the raucous this morning concerning a certain flagpole. Which really hadn’t gotten him thinking: Cafas could so use a little help with his laundry. And Calley had just the right fabric softener…
“Where’s the street-wise Hercules, to fight the rising od—” He nudged the door open with his hip, humming his way into the room.
The occupied room.
The shifter gave a little jump of surprise, but recovered with a smooth smile.
“Hey, Cafas. Heard you’d, ah, been having kind of a bad day. Thought I’d do some laundry. To… help.” Smile: extended edition.
The Italian wore his usual mess of clothes: beat up jeans, someone else’s too-large T-shirt. And atop his head: a black hat, with fake cat ears. That entirely covered every wisp of his perfectly brown hair. Not that anyone was caring. About his hair. Which was brown.
“So, umm… how have you been? I just got back from the Sanctuary.” Which is where he had been staying. Up until now. "How are things with... what's his name? Judas?" Something with an 'a' in it, somewhere.
The door opened and lo and behold his day got worse. Now, how this happened was beyond him, but it did. In his doorway looking as poorly dressed as usual, holding a basket ready for laundry, was a certain room mate of his, who seemed to be smiling too much for Cafas' liking. Cafas was grumpy, how dare someone be happy when he was not. Still it was not his style to be an ass to Calley on account of nothing but his poorly dressed happiness.
Having a bad day is one way of putting it.
"Judas took his 30 pieces of silver, now he can go hang himself." Cafas spat the sentiment bitterly across the room at Calley. "What do you care anyway Calley?" Light glare at the smile. Drop glare, slight perking up of expression. "Thanks for thinking of the laundry though, I think you know me a bit too well. I really need to do that more often. What are you doing here by the way?"
Man I must really be mad.
Cafas sighed and motioned for Calley to come over, he hoped he would, he didn't feel like looking up. "Sorry for snapping. I just... yeah, as you said, I had a bad day. I mean, I trusted him, and he betrayed me." He stared dejectedly at the floor for a moment. "I mean, I should have seen it coming I guess, I let my guard down. Haven't made that mistake in a while but there it is."
Posted by Cheshire on Aug 24, 2011 13:28:57 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Cafas was snapping.
Cafas was snapping at him.
Woah. If Calley had been on a week-long mission to ruin Cafas’ life, man, would he be feeling victorious right now.
(Still, the guy didn’t need to snap at him.)
Calley idly set the basket on the bed, and started scooping up the easiest targets: socks, random shirt, pants, things worn inside of pants. It hadn’t been all that long since the last time they’d let the mysterious Mansion cleaners do their work, so there wasn’t that much. Definitely not enough to warrant the extra large basket he’d brought. Clearly it had just been the only one he’d found.
>> “I mean, I trusted him, and he betrayed me."
Wince. Of… empathy. “That sucks. Guessing your dating life is on hold for awhile, then.” Just a casual observation. Calley scooped up another T-shirt and delicately dropped it in the basket, glad he didn’t have hyperosmia in human form. “I guess we could go out for lunch or something, if it will keep you from moping.”
He scratched idly over his ear, then frowned down at the entire bed. “Cafas… when was the last time you changed these sheets?”
His scratching had worked a little tuft of hair loose. It was a lighter brown than his usual; really sort of a pale auburn. Uneducated individuals might falsely classify it as 'very, very pink.'
Cafas looked at Calley quizzically at the mention of his dating life. What did Calley care? Still, lunch was lunch. Perhaps he did want lunch. Staying at the mansion didn't seem to be doing him any good. "Yeah sure, why not, going for lunch has to be better than this. As for the sheets, probably like, two days ago. Why?"
Odd question...
Cafas was not a total grot, ThankYouVeryMuch. He changed his sheets regularly. Sure regularity was in the eye of the beholder, but Cafas felt it was a fairly reasonable time frame. Cafas, at the mention of it, had started self consciously checking the bed over in a rather paranoid manner. Ignoring the small amounts of blonde hair on his pillow, it seemed perfectly clean. He had no idea what Calley was on about.
Why is he asking? Does he know something I don't?
Cafas darted his gaze momentarily back to his sometimes roommate to check what he was doing. Something seemed wrong, but Cafas set it aside for the second. It was in that second he figured out what it was. He turned back with a puzzled frown. "Calley, why is your hair pi..." cut off by the nearly audible clicking of the pieces into their places in the jigsaw puzzle he called his day.
No... I refuse to accept that...
The sight of Calley's hair, and the knowledge that Alex's had in fact been dyed, had triggered his thought processes, and he did not like where it pointed. It made him very unhappy indeed. Angry, if you will. The fury of a thousand suns burned inside him that he had been both so stupid, and so surprised. Just to be sure Cafas had tugged the hat off his roommate's head faster than a flash. Pink, all of it.
"FOR F***S SAKE! HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO BLIND!?!" Cafas was standing in a second, "YOU! YOU, ARE RESPONSIBLE, FOR THIS WHOLE SH**TY DAY? THIS WHOLE MESS WAS YOUR GOD DAMNED FAULT!?!" Cafas was shaking, physically shaking, with emotion. He clenched a fist and swung at the shifter, but pulled the blow up a good half of a foot short. "You are the reason I felt so betrayed. But at least from you I've come to expect it. Now I've gone and hurt Alex because of your bulls**t, and he doesn't even know why!" He had lowered his voice somewhat back to a more reasonable level.
You pretty much set yourself up for this.
Cafas resisted the urge to kill Calley where he stood, and instead opted for more expression of his unhappiness, and sitting back down, and attempts at deep breaths. He was mad, sure, but mostly, Cafas was in pain. Emotional pain. "Why? Can you seriously just not stand to see me hold an emotional state approaching happiness? If that was your goal, well done. Pretty much no-one here trusts me, I broke up with my boyfriend, who if I'm LUCKY will take me back, and I think it may be physically impossible for me to ever feel happy again! I mean for the love of God Calley, I get it, you don't feel for me remotely how I feel for you, but why did you then have to go and sabotage the relationship I DID have?" The rant could have gone on but Cafas was moving swiftly from rage to betrayal and heartbreak.
Well at least the betrayal is new from Calley.
"You've out done yourself on the f**king Cafas over this time mate."
Posted by Cheshire on Aug 24, 2011 19:26:38 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Calley saw it coming, of course. The shouting, the shaking. The clenched fist. It didn’t take a precog to know he was about to get himself hit. Calley had been an expert in such matters long before Cafas had entered his life. And really? He did deserve it. He always did--he worked hard at in, in fact. If he was going to get hit, he should deserve it. A insolent little smile slipped over his face. Go ahead, Cafas. Go right ahead.
The fist stopped, inches from his face.
Cafas didn’t hit him. The pink-haired boy—the other one—sat down on the bed. He stopped shouting. He didn’t hit Calley.
The shifter’s habitual smile wavered. If he’d gotten hit, it would have been out the window, poof and gone. Easy. One bedroom off his list, but that was hardly a loss: he had plenty of places to come back to, in the Mansion. But he didn’t. Get hit. How was he supposed to react to that?
>> "You've out done yourself on the f**king Cafas over this time mate."
The smile slipped back in place. “Thanks. You liked that?” He bounced onto the bed next to Cafas, just as casual as you can please. (He didn’t get hit.) And he kept talking. “You should have seen what I had planned for your clothes. Ever seen what thirty-two boxes of lime green Jell-O do to a wash cycle? I sure haven’t, but I’ve always wanted to. Honestly, I figured the teachers would take longer to deal with you. Guess I didn’t give them enough to work with.”
He crossed his legs casually. One socked foot twitched, as he continued his shameless grinning.
Cafas was over anger. Sadness was setting in more rapidly now. Calley was still being a smart-ass, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to him to care, nor notice quite how hard he was trying to make Cafas more miserable. He had his eyes firmly fixed on the floor once more as the boy who he now almost preferred as a mouse bounced next to him, with his cross legged sock wearing. There was just something so annoying about idiots who you could tell knew when to quit, but simply didn't. How much more did Cafas have to be hurt before Calley was satisfied?
Why is he on my bed anyway?
"I like lime jell-O." He said defiantly as he swivelled, knelt, and then flopped face first onto his pillow. It had a wonderful cool feeling on his face, like a cool breeze, without the bothersome movement of air. He decided to silently cry into his pillow. That'd show Calley who was boss for sure! Still, no answer to his question. That was almost as depressing as the fact he had just let himself get played like an idiot.
Stupid dumb Calley.
Make sure he... no longer had dust in his eye, yes that was what it was, roll. Back against mattress, not as comfortable as he was used to, probably just because of his general moodiness. "You just made a point of ruining a lot of hard work. At least give me the courtesy of telling me why." Such a punchable face. Punchable, and yet, impossible to punch. Annoying self control and uncontrollable emotions. Any other person, any other, would be going home eating through a straw, why couldn't he do the same to this one?
Violence may well be the answer in this case.
Stupid annoying huggable, wonderfully conniving and under any other circumstances hilariously funny blue eyed villainous mutant friend.
Posted by Cheshire on Aug 28, 2011 15:53:45 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
>> "You just made a point of ruining a lot of hard work. At least give me the courtesy of telling me why."
“I ruined a lot of hard work? I did?” The shifter said, with great indignity. “So hooking up with a guy over the weekend is hard work, huh? ‘Cause it sure seemed easy to me. One day we’re having lunch together, and everything seems fine for the first time since forever, and the next you and blondie are out laying on the lawn together and having sleepover parties with—with birthday presents, and unwrapping, and—” And he wasn’t talking about ribbons and bows.
“What? Did you tell him you loved him, too?”
Oh, poor Cafas. Rolling all over the bed, playing at heartbreak. Right. Clearly, he gave just as much of a damn about this as Calley did.
Cafas was not prepared... For that reaction. He was now on the defensive. He didn't like being on the defensive, the position had been forced on him because he'd made a wrong move. That was the trouble with wrong moves. Hence, wrong. Damn. Well Cafas refused to lose this, he'd been losing all day; it was time for him to win. Plus he was now extra hurt. Calley had swung a low blow. Cafas did not feel he deserved that one.
"Honestly Calley if I didn't know better I'd say you're jealous, but first thing first. Yes, you ruined it, you ruined it with whatever thought ran through your head to tell you ANYTHING had changed between us. I thought everything was still okay with us up until you walked in today." This was very true; in fact, part of him still refused to believe Calley had been the reason for his horrible day, and it assumed he was simply joking now. It was a very small piece of him.
"Secondly, NOTHING HAPPENED! You made sure of that one, didn't you? Not that it was going to anyway, I was happy with the pace that was going at. Your intimate knowledge of my comings and goings however, kinda weird." He was sure if the situation had been reversed, Calley would have brought the same thing up, repeatedly, or simply run away, which pretty much seemed to be his standard reaction.
"Penultimately, no, I never told him that because frankly it isn't true. Which brings us to Why exactly you're acting so jealous. Do enlighten me as to why you would even care what I did with Alex and what I said to him." Alex had barely been more than a very good friend to Cafas, in effect just someone to speak to. From what he understood the love for relationships in general came later.
Pink eyes attempted to bore answers out of Calley all by themselves, he hoped he might suddenly develop the ability to glare daggers, because he desperately wanted to break something, just utterly destroy it. This time Calley would not avoid his question. "Go on Calley. Tell me what bothers you about the thought of Alex and me. Why, Caleb Swartz, are you acting so jealous?"
Posted by Cheshire on Aug 29, 2011 11:02:51 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Cafas was delusional. Delusional like an entire room painted baby blue. Delusional like a figurine of an Italian, who was just human. Delusional like thinking Calley was jealous.
Yes, deefinitely delusional. As his sometimes roommate, Calley felt obliged to bring him back to reality.
His habitual smile curled over his lips.
“Do you know how easy it was, Cafas?” He leaned back on the bed, his elbows propping him up, and gazed adoringly at his fellow pink-haired young man. He even fluttered his eyelashes, just a bit. “To ruin your life, I mean.”
“You’ve got so much tied up in what other people think about you, what they mean to you. Oh, does the shifter like me? Does he love me? Will he have my biologically impossible babies? If he won’t, how about the first blond I see?” He definitely fluttered his eyelashes, there.
“Cafas, I am simply trying to give you a hand here, as a concerned friend. Somehow you’ve managed to make it to twenty-one without learning the stuff I figured out by eighteen. So just between you and me? Lesson number one is this: if you care about other people, if you try to… to build your own little life around them, you’re just going to get hurt. That’s what people do. They hurt you.”
Even if they didn’t mean to. Like Neena, who’d left him to help others. Like Kealey, who wouldn’t let him sit on her shoulder. Like Katrina, who always made him feel guilty for just being himself.
And then, of course, there were the people who meant to hurt you.