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.
Isabel had decided to stay in for the afternoon. It seemed like it had been forever since she'd tried to keep herself out of trouble and the best way to do that was to stay indoors a the Sanctuary. Wandering out around the city could turn out to be largely uneventful when it came to cop chases and murder sprees if she kept her temper in check, but that didn't happen all that often. Even if she did happen to behave herself, it usually didn't take too long before some whistle-blower alerted the authorities anyway. Being one of New York's Most Wanted could get tiring sometimes.
That also wasn't to say that wandering around the Sanctuary was all that uneventful either. While the Order was housed there, the majority of residents were just mutants that needed a place to stay. Not everyone living there agreed with her methods of interacting with the general public and some weren't shy about voicing their opinions. She'd gotten into fights on more than one occasion in the past, though she'd done her best not to let it get to out of hand. She had some respect for her home and preferred not to stain too many of its surfaces with someone else's blood.
Thus she had decided to spend at least a few hours in her room so she could more easily keep to herself and hopefully relax. She'd pulled her paint supplies out of her closet and found herself a small step ladder elsewhere in the Sanctuary that she could borrow for a few hours. It had been a while since she'd painted anything and her supplies were rather low. There was enough to do what she wanted, though.
Isabel had gotten bored of the aquatic border she'd painted along the top edges of her walls a few years prior and she felt it was as good a time as any to redo it. She just wasn't so sure what it was she wanted to paint in its place. In any case, first thing was first, and that was covering up what was already there.
The walls in her room were a somewhat pale shade of blue. She'd considered painting it over into a pastel green to better match her taste in colors but had decided it was too much effort. She stuck by that opinion and settled for the border. A jar of lukewarm water was placed on her night table along with a sheet of wax paper. Two brushes were dropped into the water and left to soak for a minute in order to soften the bristles while she opened up two tubes of paint and squeezed out a portion of their contents onto the paper.
The larger of the two brushes was pulled from the water, dabbed against a ratty old scrap of cloth she'd found, and dabbed into the larger glob of grey paint that waited. She then proceeded to brush over the design that was on the wall, carefully minding the edges of the tape she'd applied beforehand to create an even edge.
Once that was finished, two coats having been applied, she paced about her living quarters waiting for it to dry just enough so that she'd be able to apply the blue she'd picked to sit on top of the grey. While she waited she cracked her door open to help air out her room. One downside to having a room in the basement level of the Sanctuary was that she didn't have any windows. She needed some fresh air to filter into the room to prevent any paint fumes from becoming too concentrated.
Once she was satisfied with how the grey paint had come along, having carefully tested its dryness with her fingertips, she removed the painter's tape and returned to her supplies, swiping the smaller brush through the blue paint. She'd begun moving the bristles over the solid grey line before she'd fully decided what it was she was painting.
It ended up being a somewhat simpler spirograph that she was carefully creating without the aid of the tools that would normally be used. It would mean the symbols wouldn't match perfectly, but she wasn't all that concerned about it. It wasn't like there'd be very many people that would see them anyway. It was just something she had to concentrate to create, and in that concentration she could lose herself creating the shapes and forget about everything else.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
The Sanctuary was insane. Not literally insane, people running about doing acts that people might consider a step off the wagon. No, when Kyle said it was insane, he was referring to it in general. The place was unlike anything Kyle had ever seen before. It was massive in its own right but that wasn't what caught Kyle's eye.
There were mutants everywhere, mingling amongst one another without fear of human's judging them as they passed. Kyle saw dozens of mutants with mutations that would have them labeled in the real world, would have had them hiding out of fear, walked openly among their fellows without the slightest hint of fear at all. A world within a city...some might have called this paradise for mutants.
After Kyle had confirmed, a bit reluctantly, to join this so called Order, Lori had told him where the majority of that group were housed. It had taken him a bit longer to look into it, but now that he was here, Kyle was sad he hadn't come sooner. The place was magnificent, both to the eye and the mind and every which way Kyle turned, he saw something new that made him smile.
Lori had told him a great many mutants not only belonged to the Order, but lived in this establishment as well. A sound plan, when you thought about it. Not only a base of operations, but a shelter for any that wanted a place safe from persecution. A good idea and an oddly humane one. Maybe this place wasn't as bad as the rumors on the street made it out to be.
Kyle had no intentions of living here long term, seeing as he had his own little apartment which suited him just fine for the moment. Still, having a room here in case of emergencies wouldn't be such a bad thing either. As it were now, he had a backpack on him, which contained a few things, mainly just some basic essentials. Oh, and the rest of parts to his outfit. Still thing to have on underneath his clothes, but after his last run in with Isabel and the police, he wanted an easy way to hide his identity. Kyle knew he might look like a goof, but planting someone's head into a wall had a good chance of shutting anyone up about that.
Problem was with a place being so big was that it was easy to get lost. And confused. And all turned around so one didn't know which way they had taken to even get to where they were. Which was what Kyle was finding himself doing.
Kyle found himself wandering past rooms that all looked the same on the outside to him. Frowning and glancing left and right, he opted to try knocking on one of the door's to ask for help. Most were empty when he knocked, surprising considering the number of people he had seen earlier. When he did find a door with the sound of someone inside, Kyle leaned closer to the door to listen for someone coming; someone was moving about inside for sure, but the sound was distant. On the other end of the room it seemed and with no sound of it coming closer, Kyle guessed they might not have heard him. Shrugging and knocking again, he spoke in a voice that would be distorted by the door.
"Pardon the intrusion, but would you be able to direct me to the....Isabel?" Part of him found amusement in the magic of the door he'd picked...another was pondering just how fast a guard he was going to have to put up. The rest took to watching what she was doing, half waiting for the pain to come.
Isabel had hardly paid any attention to knocking that had sounded at her partially open door. She was busy painting her fourth wheel. She'd fallen into a rhythm. She was hardly thinking about what stroke of the brush came next and was paying even less mind to what was going on in the rest of her room and in the corridor outside of her doorway.
Knocking wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Mutants were constantly moving in and out of the rooms along the hallway. Friends and roommates often knocked on each other's doors. They also knocked on stranger's door and on the walls as they moved up and down the hall for various reasons. There was usually any number of other sounds traveling down the corridor along with them.
It hadn't even occurred to her that the knock would come at her door. No one ever entered her room or asked to do so. The other mutants didn't knock on her door. Her temper was infamous within the walls of the Sanctuary, just as it was outside of them. She never tolerated that kind of interruption on her personal space. And just to be sure the other residents knew exactly where it was they should never go, she'd carved her name into the wood of the door, though the numerous different pock marks and gouges already covering its surface might have sufficed on their own.
Bane had only ever been in the space maybe once or twice while they'd been dating, and never by her invitation. The only individual she'd allowed to have free reign of her living quarters was Mercury. It wasn't unusual to find him curled up in her room somewhere overnight, or maybe even during the day if the desire to take a nap had struck him. She kept a stash of extra blankets and pillows under her bed and in her closet just for him. He was one of her oldest friends and she was happy to accommodate him. And in exchange, though she'd never have asked for anything in return, he'd declared that he would keep all the naughty boys out of her room.
And so when the knock was followed by a voice that was very distinctly in her doorway, Isabel nearly toppled off the step stool she was standing on as she whirled around in surprise. Thankfully she'd managed to avoid streaking the blue paint all over the wall.
The familiar individual in the doorway looked just as surprised to find her behind the door as she was to see him standing just on the other side of it. There was also a twinge of disappointment somewhere when she remembered she couldn't kill him for trespassing. He'd let it slip the last time they'd met that he was the Order's newest member, which meant she couldn't do him any fatal damage.
"Get out." She didn't yell, nor did she hurl anything at him, though the heavy jar holding the murky water was an awfully tempting blunt object. The boy should know better. She wasn't shouting yet, but there was an unmistakable note of warning in her tone.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
The painful retribution for the intrusion, the one Kyle was fully expecting to come striking his way any moment, never came. His body has been ready to defend itself from those deadly bones, to deflect them away or dodge them entirely, his retreat into the hallway the first step in a series that were beginning to form in his mind.
But it really never came. Instead, Isabel stood there, eyes full of shock as his were now. Neither of them had expected to run into each other like this, not in what Kyle guessed was her private room.
In the back of his mind, the reason he wasn't dead was burning its way to light. Isabel and himself were not part of the same group, the same team in a way. She might not have liked him too fondly, but being part of the same team gave him a bit of leeway in certain regards. She would seethe at him and look at him poorly, but at least she wouldn't murder him without good cause. A really good cause it seemed.
Her sharp and to the point words were what had the rest of his mind were focused on. The look she gave him begrudged no argument to the matter and Kyle had indeed been turning to leave, speaking an apology...and then his eyes had found her walls and he gaped.
The sense of death pushed from his mind, Kyle glanced back and forth around the room, to the dim blue walls that covered each corner, then to the stranger border that lined each inch of the room. The shapes there were simple, yet they were appealing to the eye as they varied in shape and their order not exactly streamlined. At first, Kyle assumed they had been part of the room's original design, painted there from before. Then his eyes had fallen on Isabel, who had paintbrush in hand, the various supplies she needed also coming into sight.
Smiling, his eyes flickering from the designs to her, Kyle took a step forward to get a better look, stepping to a near wall. "I knew you were an artist with your powers, but I never suspected you were capable of this as well. Its amazing! Did you just apply these recently?" His face was a mix now of curiously and amazement and if she looked hard enough, she'd see that his curiously had silenced the warning in his mind.
Isabel's temper flared even more hotly as the young man in her doorway chose to ignore her words of warning. It felt like her cheeks mirrored that heat as she realized what his attention was focused on. He was looking between her and her walls, his focus seeming to be mainly on the latter. He was staring at the designs she'd been painting on the grey boarder she'd applied and the longer he stared the testier she was getting.
"You didn't know and you weren't supposed to," she countered, stepping down off of the step ladder so that she wouldn't misstep and tumble to the floor if her temper spiked too high. It also made it easier to reach the jar of dirty water that was sitting on her nightstand. As well as the tubes of paint and the messy waxed paper.
"Are you illiterate as well as suicidal? Couldn't you read my name on the door? No one comes into my room. Ever. No one. That means you," she continued, dropping the brush she was holding into the jar of water so that she could cross her arms without creating blue smears on her shirt. "My telling you to leave wasn't an invitation to keep intruding."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Since his attention was mostly directed on inspecting the designs on the wall, Kyle didn't notice that his comments were getting a physical response to show on Isabel's face. His curiosity also dulled out the fact that the tone in her voice was anything but friendly.
The sound of something on metal made him glance over to her as she came down from the ladder. This also let him notice her display of paints and the the other needed materials a little more clearly. She had quite the diversity of colors there, most of which she didn't seem to be using. At the same time, several of them looked to be getting quite low.
Her tirade snapped him to actually pay attention to her for a moment and when she was done, Kyle simply gave her one of those smiles that she would know by now meant he wasn't concerned about his health when something interested him.
"I can read quite well actually. It's one of my favorite hobbies, truth be told. As for your name on the door, didn't see it at all, sorry to say. And if no one comes into your room ever, well, guess I'm the fool that gets to be lucky number one then." His eyes wandered back to the designs and instead of responding directly to that last statement of hers, he continued.
"These are some unique designs you got going here. Are they meant to symbolize something or did you just come up with them out of the blue? Pretty creative if you did.
You look like you're running low on paint though. I can get you more." Kyle dropped that last part almost casually, like it wouldn't bother him one bit to do so. And it wouldn't.
Only an idiot would smile when Isabel was indirectly threatening them. He was either taunting her, which, knowing him, was entirely possible or he was too stupid to realize the warning in her tone. She wasn't exactly pleased with either possibility. Inviting such stupidity into the Order was a terrible mistake, if that's what was preventing him from heeding her words. Inviting in someone so ready to antagonize one of its most violent members wasn't exactly a great idea, either. She was beginning to wonder why Lori would have signed on someone like Forte.
There was also the remote possibility that he'd somehow realized that she wouldn't kill a fellow Orderling. Having a healer on the premises would also make any maiming only temporary, though no less painful to endure. This was troubling in the sense that is meant someone knew about that particular weakness of hers and was willing to take advantage of it. It was an infuriating thought.
She refused to be goaded into discussing the designs she was in the process of painting. He wasn't going to find any kind of deep meanings behind them and they weren't going to reveal any kind of redeeming characteristics in her, which she was still suspicious of him trying to discover after his insistence of befriending her.
And she certainly wasn't going to be accepting any supplies from him. Somehow the offer was offensive to her. Like she was unable to procure her own supplies or realize when she was running low on them and needed someone to assist her.
The heavy glass jar full of murky water smashed into the wall next to his head. It was the last warning she was going to give.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Even though Kyle's eyes were directed to the walls and the drying designs upon them, his instincts warned him that possible danger was forthcoming. In fact, his tendency to glance for whatever reason to either side was what let him catch the sight of something heavy heading his way.
By then it was too late to do anything, but the jar that Isabel had thrown at him wasn't directed at him, not directly. The jar smashed with a crash against the wall beside him, spilling murky water and glass shards to the ground at his feet. With a raised eyebrow, Kyle glanced down to the shattered pool of glass and water, then turned his attention to the one who'd thrown it.
"I'm surprised how defensive you are. I can understand the intruding on you're room, but it seems like you're more worried about me seeing that you like to paint. Like it degrades your image or something...I think it improves it to be honest."
Sighing and shaking his head, Kyle glanced to the wall once more, then smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess that's a good warning. But, seeing as the mess around my feet is my fault in a way, I'm going to clean it up. Stab me now or when my back is turned, because that's what I'm going to do and that's the only way you'll stop me."
Bending down, Kyle picked up an unused tray from nearby and started picking the larger pieces of the jar up and throwing them into it. He'd have to find a broom to get the rest, after he'd cleaned the water up somehow. That would be the tricky part...especially if he was bleeding out at the same time. Blood was a pain to get cleaned up properly, after all.
Isabel continued refusing to be goaded into letting anything slip as Forte made assumptions about the reason for her anger. She wasn't hiding any character flaws she might have perceived in herself. If the young man thought there was some sort of sensitive side to her that she was trying to cover up, there wasn't too much she could do to persuade him to believe otherwise short of showing him his own innards and hoping that got the message across. She was just painting scribbles on the wall. She didn't particularly care if they were seen by anyone.
It was the circumstances surrounding their viewing that was making her so angry. A young man that she hardly knew cam busting into her room uninvited and was refusing to leave. It was an intrusion on her privacy and the one space she could call her own. Her room was always the one place she could hide out if things got to be too much or if she just wanted to be left alone for a while. And then some fool waltzes in without a second thought and makes himself at home.
There was no reason she should have been surprised that the young man didn't take the hint that had literally been thrown at him. And yet his offer to clean up the mess she'd made caught her a little off guard. It was suddenly a shame that he didn't have to clean the glass out of his skin. He was doing a damned good job of ignoring her and courting death.
His invitation to stab him in the back was extremely tempting. From the sound of it he wasn't even going to defend himself, the belief reinforced as he actually did turn his back on her. It would be so easy. Just slip a spike between two of his ribs and twist. He'd drop like a sack of rocks and she could leave him rotting in the hallway for someone else to deal with.
She had to remember not to kill him. She would retaliate, she just couldn't mortally would him in the process.
Instead she closed the space between them and picked up the left-over dinner tray she'd had in her room for she couldn't remember how long, careful not to drop the shards of glass that were on it. Then she swung it at him. Fast and hard. She was aiming at his face, glass shards first.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Kyle was expecting her to do something. Little as he knew about Isabel, the one thing he did know was she wasn't the kind of person to let a slight slide. In fact, he was fully expecting the retaliation to come any moment now, which left him with the unfortunate problem of how to avoid being stabbed to death avoid something so simple.
His back was to her, but Kyle had adjusted the angle of his head to allow him to see her, in a little detail, out of the corner of his eye. It wouldn't do anything more then give him seconds of warning of her intentions, but seconds could be crucial in what might easily become life and death.
The perceived attack eventually came, although it was slightly different then what Kyle had been expecting. Kyle had thought Isabel would take the chance to stab him fatally with one of those bone blades of hers; instead, she grabbed the tray full of glass shards and swung it at him. Of course, this was why one of his hands had been kept free at his side. A bolt of energy snapped from his fingers, strong enough to snap the incoming tray from its wielder's hands.
Not fast enough to deflect the entire attack though. Several pieces of glass managed to clip one, a larger piece in particular opening a small gash just above his eye. As quick as he could, Kyle had spun around and had one hand slapping one of Isabel's aside while the other came up to her face, energy glowing in his hands. His eyes were a mix of silent rage and temptation.
As fast as it came on, the rage and temptation faded, forcing a sigh from him. Wiping the blood that was blocking his vision, Kyle turned and picked up the tray once again. "Well...we could be here a long time if you don't let me finish. Here, I'll make you a consent; I'll leave right now, without cleaning up at all, if you agree to come with me to the nearest art store.
I'm not getting you paints because I don't think you can or anything stupid like that. I'm going to get them because I did poke my nose in here and that's my way of apologizing for it. Say what you want about me for it, but that's how I damn well work so get used to it.
Or you can decline and I'll start cleaning again, deflecting your attacks and throwing my own back until this entire place is a bigger mess and I'll still be here because I said I'd clean the mess I made. It's your choice; try picking the one that lets you win and me lose hmmm?"
Isabel hardly flinched as the young man's hand swung for her face. She was irritated that she'd managed to do little more than create a gash in his own face when she'd had a whole tray of glass to work with, but she could at least hope he'd gotten the message. She didn't have to rely on her mutation to harm him. She had a few tricks, but she'd manage to harm him either way.
His own threat of violence didn't really surprise her, nor was she going to back down just because he'd manage to get his hand so close to her face. Pain was something she could deal with, especially since she knew what kind of pain he could inflict. As far as she knew he couldn't quite kill with those little bolts of his. She wasn't even so sure they could open up flesh, just sting like hell and potentially bruise if they hit hard enough. She could deal with something like a black eye. He'd have a harder time dealing with a missing one. As it was she was doing her best to keep her own hands away from his throat and his face. I she got her hands around his windpipe, she'd probably be unable to stop herself.
The choice he presented to her after he'd removed his hand from the proximity of her face was a frustrating one. She didn't want to pick either one. She wanted him out or her room, but she didn't want to have to follow him out. She wanted to stay right where she was and leave the mess right where it was. She'd clean it later, before any big naked red feet could potentially trod upon the broken glass.
She did have to choose, though, because the ass had made it clear that he was exceptionally stubborn and would do as he pleased regardless of how much of his blood she spilled onto her floor. "Fine! Paint!"
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
The fact that Isabel didn't flinch at the possibility of him unleashing his energy came as both a surprise and yet not a surprise at all. She had never flinched before in the face of danger, doubtless would she now, having faced him in combat twice. What did surprise him was that the thought of his energy hitting her at point blank didn't concern her though. True she'd taken hits from him before, but those had all been distance moves, hit from afar and often weak in their strength.
It amused him to no end to know she hadn't seen what a full burst of his energy at point blank could do; best keep that a hidden secret until he needed it.
Again, he waited for the enviable blade that would lay him open and leave a nice color to paint her floor and walls with. And once again, it never came. That fact was filed away for future reference, before Kyle's attention was grabbed by the sudden words that Isabel snapped at him.
In one swift motion, Kyle's hand was back at his side, his face lined in a grin that mirrored the victory he felt. With a slight gesture of his hand, Kyle motioned to the door, making sure that Isabel was the first to exit by only a step or two...as to prevent her from going back in instead of dealing with her choice.
"See, that wasn't so hard. And this way, you get paints for free while you burn money that's not yours. A win-win in a way, don't you think? Alright then, I'm still new to this city and the like, so you'll have to lead the way to the art store, or the nearest place to acquire these paints. So lead on then, oh masterful artist of bone and brush."
That last part was more of a playful tease, and yet, was a compliment in its own right. Kyle was, if nothing else, good at playing with words when he needed to.
"My paints are always free," Isabel grouched as she reluctantly stepped through her doorway and out into the corridor, beginning to head for the lobby without bothering to wait for the young man. She wasn't too concerned about whether or not the door was closed. Most people knew better than to invite themselves in either way. Maybe if she was lucky she'd be able to turn a corner quickly enough and lose the pest. He couldn't be to familiar with the building's layout just yet.
She had never made a habit of paying for any of her supplies. Whatever she wanted she simply took, either from people out in the parks or from the craft stores themselves. I wasn't like the individuals she was taking from could do anything to her, and she could easily outmaneuver the cops and hoof it back to the Sanctuary if she didn't feel like a fight.
As it was she didn't care much about burning anyone's cash, either. If that was the aim, actually burning it would be just as effective. She had never gotten into the habit of paying for anything, nor really of letting anyone pay for her, and as such she had little understanding over the concept of money. She did of course understand that certain amounts were larger than others, they just lacked any sort of importance to her. Unless antagonizing someone or trying to prove a point, she had no need for receiving or spending money, as everything she really needed was already provided for, and anything else was always up for grabs in some way or another.
She ignored his little quip as she breezed through the Sanctuary's front door and out onto the street, heading in the direction of the nearest craft supply store. If she stabbed him now, he would still be on the premises and could potentially still follow her back to her room. Better to stab him in the street or in the store where he'd have a harder time finding his way back to the Sanctuary.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
"Yes, yes" was his only reply to her words, gracefully slipping aside to let her pass by before falling into step behind her. He had no doubt anything Isabel wanted was free, whether by design or simply because what she wanted, she was given. This case was no different, which was why it stumped Kyle that she was so set against it.
Still, she had agreed for the most part. Now all that was left was to ensure that the deed was carried out.
From the first step, Kyle could tell that she was trying to lose him. Her pace was quick and sharp, carrying her quickly around one corner and just as swiftly down the next. Sadly, Kyle was no stranger to a quick pace and every corner she turned, he was right there almost on her heel. Kyle said nothing, made no sound; but the grin on his face would not fade. A small victory, if there was such a thing with Isabel, had been won. And he was going to feed off it.
The front doors to Sanctuary soon came into view and the rapid pace carried them out its doors and into the busy streets beyond, basking in the midday heat that was returning slowly to a once frozen city. Isabel obviously knew where she was going, as she started off without question or pause off down one of those streets.
Still smiling, Kyle stepped the pace up enough to draw level with her, then turned his gaze to half focus on her as they walked. "So why painting? Not that there's anything wrong with it or anything, but I never would have figured you the painting sort. Well, not with a brush anyway."
He couldn't just make things easy could he? Couldn't just shut up, follow her to the shop and hope not to end up downing in a puddle of his own blood? Oh no. He had to try and chat. He had to pull his whole wanting-to-understand-her bit. Had to try and make Isabel interact with him like a decent, civil person.
Ugh.
"Because I can. It's easy, time consuming, and I usually don't have to deal with people when I'm busy with it." She wasn't about to get into thinking up any sort of deep psychological reasoning with this guy. Why did she need to have a reason to paint? She'd been doing it so long she'd forgotten why she'd started in the first place anyway. She just did it to keep herself entertained while she was alone when she didn't feel like getting blood on her clothing.
She supposed she should be thankful that the shop she had in mind wasn't much farther than a few blocks away from the Sanctuary. Sort of a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. She was kind of surprised it hadn't gone out of business yet, though she didn't exactly stop by all that often to plunder supplies and scare off the clientele so that probably helped.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.