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.
So today was not going well. Booker had been at work with the New York Public Library, had a full day ahead of him processing a batch of new items had had come in when suddenly the alert system went off. He had planned to pull in some extra hours but as the alarms blared and told him that people were being encouraged to shelter in place or return home, Booker realized that a lot more was going on than needed to. He had to be careful, the Sanctum for the coven was here and he held the key. If he lost it or, in some way, it got taken from him, that could be problematic for the secrets held within.
Nope. It couldn’t stay on him. But maybe at home it would be better protected by Javi. He had an in with the X-Men. If anyone attempted to break into his boyfriend’s shop / home, they would be in for a world of hurt. Yes. It was the safest there. But…he had to get there first.
This was stupid. A vespa riding through the streets of New York while it was half crazed with villains. Really Booker B. Bookman had to be an absolute madman to even consider this course of action. And maybe he was. Booker had seen a lot of action these days, dating an X-Man (or at least the X-Men’s tailor) and being involved with the Sanctum. But Booker wasn’t one to shy away from any of it. Especially since he was an adapted and the majority of those dangers wrought by mutants were easily canceled out by his wide-reaching aura.
Sadly not all hazards could be avoided by his presence.
Something like a comet collided into the ground near him and Booker had to steer his golden vespa away from crashing into whatever it was. He managed to hit the curb at just the right angle to topple over to his side. However, upon doing do, he sat up and found that the street was full of crazy people! People with guns, crowbars, animated chains, and the most absolutely SWOL man he had ever seen!
Wait. He knew that man! He saw him when the Mystics had attacked the mansion. Wasn’t that the guy calling himself Hercules!?
Banter was given and chain guy and Hercules were getting ready to duke it out. But, as Booker watched, he spied a flash of blue light, the appearance of man, and the flash of blue light again. Between each flash was the sight of a gun being thrown and suddenly Booker knew what he was looking at – a mutant. The man in a motorcycle helmet and wearing a belt of small firearms was teleporting wherever he threw them! That seemed…unfair!
Pushing his vespa off his leg, Booker stood and watched as the gunman teleported a safe distance from Hercules and looked ready to aim a shot. Quickly throwing caution to the wind, the librarian dressed in a slacks, a pin-striped vest, long sleeved shirt, and a bright orange bowtie suddenly ran forward like a football tackler set loose. His glossy shoes glistened in the light as he bridged the distance between himself and the Gunman and suddenly shouted.
”Herc! Behind you!” Booker shouted and with practiced precision tackled the Gunman across the midsection and brought them both down onto the ground. Quick thinking caused Booker to pull the gun away from his opponent and send it hurtling across street. The Gunman attempted to teleport (Booker could tell from the posing and the following shocked expression) and Booker winked. ”Sorry. Adapted.” He grinned, and quickly shouted afterwards as a fist was driven into his head, sending him careening off to the side as the Gunman scrambled to pull another gun from his belt.
The New York Public Library, for many people, is a place of wonder. A bastion of knowledge open to any and all, it is the place to be where one can find answers, helpful research, or simply just a cool place to run to from the heated, angry sun up above. Because of this, the denizens within its halls are varied, ranging from teenagers studying to adults looking for a quiet place to read. And while the technological world has advanced to the point where most of these hallowed volumes could be downloaded and read upon a flat, LED-lit screen, there was currently one audience that had discovered the love of books early on, and an appreciation for those skilled enough to read them aloud.
In the children’s section, sitting on a thick, yellow donut-looking table, is a tall, muscular man surrounded by kids. He is dressed in a simple button up shirt that seems to strain against his chest and biceps, slacks, and a stylish red bowtie at his collar. His hair is a sandy brown and combed neatly, his mustache and beard matching the hue and styling. His blue eyes sparkle with interest as he holds up a colorful book in his hands, reading with enjoyment to the varying kids sitting around him.
It is Storytime in the New York Public Library and Booker B. Bookman, a librarian, was enjoying himself immensely.
“So what do we say to Gerta the Gassy Dragon the next time we see her?” Booker reads from the page. He then sticks his tongue out and raspberries loudly, and is met with a chorus of similar sounds from the kids around him. And all together they announce.
“DON’T EAT ALL THE BEANS NEXT TIME, GERTA!”
There is another round of raspberrying and all the kids descend into giggling fits of laughter. Booker, smiling from ear to ear at the children’s mirth, chuckles as he waits for them to calm down. Slowly he ushers them there, holding his finger up to his lips and very soothingly shushes them until they are all miming him and responding in kind. Once everything has finally calmed, Booker closes the book “Greta the Terribly Gassy Day” and sets it on his magenta colored bookcart.
“Alright kids, that’s it for storytime today.” A mass break out of “awwww’s” responded and he smiled, holding up his hands. “I know, I know. But…I’ll be here next weekend! And I promise I’ll have not three but four awesome stories to read to you all! I’ll see you next weekend, okay? Remember, in the library we gotta be quiet so we don’t disturb the books resting, okay?”
The kids giggled and nodded before standing and moving off to their waiting parents. Booker smiled and watched them go. Once he was sure they were all with the people they were supposed to be, he stood, grabbed his cart and went about beginning to pick things up. He loved volunteering for storytime. But now it was time to get some of these books back to their homes.
Booker didn’t mind standing still. Heck, a lot of the time at his job he had to stand still in order to give directions in the library or to stand at his desk and fill out forms for new library cards. Standing still was just a natural part of life that he was more than willing to participate in. But there was something about this, maybe it was the ostentatious outfit, maybe it was just the fact that the gauzy frill kept tickling his facial hair, in any case, he felt a slight fidget in his limbs that was hard to keep under control. But for Javi…he would try his best.
Another tickle to his cheek and Booker sighed and slapped away the frill that was trying to become one with his cheekbones. Gods it was annoying.
>> "I wish. This is for someone who... wishes to have a Shakespearean persona while doing superhero work. Their words, not mine…Is that better?"
Booker had to crack a smile at this. Shakespearean-themed superhero? He could only think of one person Javi was referring to. ”Oh no. The Bardsmith is back in town?” he asked with an amused chuckle. ”I thought he had skipped down after that Speedigram scandal?”
Note to self: not everyone should have access to make a FansOnly account! Especially when said person has access to far too tight pantaloons!
Clearing his throat, Booker smirked to his boyfriend and nodded. The frill was tugged down just enough so it would stop tickling his stubble. Already it was one hundred percent better. With a sigh of satisfaction, the librarian continued.
”Much better! I don’t feel like it’s trying to whisper sweet nothing into my chin hair.”
Change seemed to be in the air all around New York these days. Big things of course had happened: Xavier’s mansion had been rebuilt, magic had been discovered, and equally important to all these things, Booker B. Bookman had given up his apartment. For many years Booker had shared that space with his sister, Nessa, but after she moved out to be with her girlfriend, Booker found himself in the cavernous space by himself. Sure, his own boyfriend, Javi, had been spending a lot of time there, but it wasn't the same. That was why when talk of moving in together occurred, Booker found himself making a decision he never thought he would – he would move in to someone else's space.
It wasn't that Javi had a bad place (who wouldn't want to live above New York's most amazing tailor shop run by the cutest tailor?), it was just that Booker was used to being the hero. He was used to people coming to him for help, for a place to stay, so when he moved in with Javi, it was an entire change to his world. And that wasn't a bad thing.
Move-in had been simple enough and now the two had been sharing the space for a bit now. There were a few bumps as they tried to get used to the living patterns of another, but it was quickly tempered by the addition of around-the-clock tailoring services and ukulele serenades. All in all…it was going well.
In this particular moment, however, Booker found himself having trouble standing still. Not because of annoyance or boredom, but because of excitement. Javier was having trouble with a costume and needed a model that would fill it out better than any of the mannequins Jack current had in his shop. Why go out and buy a jacked mannequin when Booker B. Bookman live in your house?
Standing patiently (save for a random and not annoyed tap of his foot) Booker hummed to himself as he eyes himself in the mirror across the way. The costume Javi made was interesting though the librarian was a little unsure what it was for. Given his boyfriend’s talent and growing popularity it could be for anything from a up and coming superhero to a neighborhood production of Mazes and Monsters: the Musical.
Looking down as Javi worked on him, Booker noticed the frill across the chest again and poked at it curiously. This only caused the fabric to wavering back towards his mouth and tickle his mustache. Sputtering, he waves the fabric away, looks in a disgruntled manner at the offensive frill. ”You sure they said they wanted the frill this high and not ‘please-never-use-mouth-invading-frill-fabric-ever’?” he asked innocently.
"Ahhh! AHHHHH! JAVI! THERE'S A STARLIGHT PIG CHASING ME!!" Booker shouts into the comm.
After the ordeal with the imps breaking in, things had calmed down quite a bit inside the mansion. A few intrusions, but nothing he couldn't handle. His favorite has been playing Whack-a-Mole with one mystic who tried to teleport in. Various portals open and from each one the mystic stuck in a hand or foot or head, to which Booker laid into him with his baseball bat. It was quite fun!
That is until the pig appeared.
It was beautiful at first. Booker watched as these pinpoints of starlight appeared in front of him. Dazzling and twinkling. But then they took shape, each one connected by a beam of light until a wire frame construct in the shape of a boar was formed. Instantly it locked eyes with Booker and the librarian could do little else but break into a run.
Now he was running through the mansion corridors, the living constellation of a massive boar chasing behind him, snorting and knocking over anything in its path. All the while, Booker scraped.
"JAVI! SOMEONE! I NEED AN EXIT PLEASE!" As he ran he jabbed behind him with the bat, the boar unfazed by it.
Booker smiled with a bit of relief as he felt Javier wipe the tears from his eyes. It was strange. When they first started dating, this was usually the other way around. Javi had terrible anxiety and needed a comforting and calm space, often something that Booker was only too happy to provide. But that had changed these days. Maybe it was just because of all the exposure Javier got with the X–Men, maybe it was just an example of things changing as they grew together in a relationship. In any case, Javi was good at calming others down too – which was something that Booker was extremely glad for.
Leaning his head into Javi’s hand, he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. As he could feel his heart rate calming down, he soon breathed a sigh of relief and pressed his forehead against the tailors and smiled. It felt good.
Of course he had to grin at Javi’s inability to remember most of the cool things he had done last night. That would be his luck. He had done so many amazing feats and yet he couldn’t remember any of it. Maybe it was better that way but Booker also had hoped he could recall it, just to help Javi really understand how great and selfless he was.
Booker then nods. ”Of course. I get that,” He shuddered and then turned to look at his display dragonzord dagger. ”Yeah, for as cool as some of this stuff is…it may be better to steer clear of it in the future. At least until whatever was set loose in the world settles a bit.”
Well because Photobucket sucks and utterly swallowed all my old works of art, figured I would post some of my newer stuff. If anyone wants anything (and I have the time and muse) send me a message on discord! You know how to find me.
Most current works:
Just know if that you are interested in me making an image for you that I work full time and I have a toddler at home so may not be the quickest turnaround. But I will do my best!
Booker could feel the tears stinging his eyes. He didn't like that. He didn't like getting this emotional because, if his own past traumas were any indication, it could really blow out of proportion and sendshim into another one of his episodes. It had been awhile since he had had one, though he guessed that was mainly because he hadn't been involved in epic battles with psychotic mystics. That was territory he tried to avoid.
But thankfully he had an anchor to keep away the bad thoughts. As he felt the anxiety swell and choke his chest, the heavy, warm arms of Javi circled his shoulders like a warm, fresh from the dryer coat. The words were sweet and caused more tears but they were dissolving through the ones brought by fear. It felt good, safe, like Javier was his own personal book jacket. And he was so, so grateful for.
He nodded along with Javier, digging as he buried his face in his neck. Helping was one of those things that Booker couldn't help but do. It was why he became a librarian! Sure it wasn't super helpful like a doctor or fireman, but he did help in his own way.
Booker then leaned back, looking down as his own exploits were listed. He had fought off a few mystics, saved a life, even threw his time bomb of a mecha onto the villain. He had done a lot. Some would say stupidly but not the people that mattered.
A gentle, sad smile crossed his lips as he looked into Javi's eyes. "You were…pretty great out there too. Fighting bad guys, mystics, even riding waves of water and pummeling demon dogs…" He wiped more tears away. "...I-I'm glad…we both got to walk away from it."
Booker really did feel bad. He had stepped in on an X-Man issue where they were fighting an impossible opponent. And not only that, he was at risk from harm for the first time in his life and he put any mutants around him at risk too! It was a lot to feel guilty for and the librarian was primed to accept all of it. That was why he had to apologize to Javi. The poor tailor already worried so much – having Booker out there probably made everything worse.
The nerves of anxiety began to circulate just under the skin. Booker could feel that serpent trying to coil around his heart as the highs from last night, combined with the pain from today and the devastation caused to the X-Men’s home just made him feel the absolute worse. He couldn’t apologize to everyone, but he could at least apologize to Javi.
He smiled a bit weakly when Javi confirmed that some of the details were still fuzzy (that was a hell of a potion). But after a moment he inquired if Booker had indeed piloted a giant robot. The reminder made Booker’s smile widen, confirmation that he had indeed done that. He turned to glance to the shelf where his new collectible now sat.
The librarian nodded his head.
”Yeah…” he said with a thick voice, the emotions held back but threatening to roll over again. ”...and almost got myself killed. I…I didn’t know what was going to happen but I still used those magic items. And…” He turned back to Javi, tears dotting his eyes again. ”...I was so…so close to not being here to have breakfast with you this morning…”
Booker then crossed the room and wrapped his one good arm around Javi's shoulders and buried his face in the tailor's neck. He wouldn't have missed mornings like this for the world -- but last night that choice could have easily been taken away from him.
Booker smiled a bit sweetly at the affectionate term. Really Javi was the best thing to happen to him. He was glad things worked out this way. They seemed to compliment each other pretty well. Classic extrovert / introvert coupling. Seemed a little cliched on the outside but Booker couldn’t remember the last time he was this ridiculously happy in a relationship and he owed it all to Javi, a fact he constantly reminded the tailor of.
Still, the librarian had to defend his honor. ”Uh, excuse you. Bruise and hairline fractures,” he said with a cocky grin. ”I’m a little tougher than that.”
He smiled as he returned to setting up the coffee pot. Pouring in the grounds with his signature mix of spices that no one knew. Even Nessa because as much as he knew she wanted to use her powers to glean his secrets, his adapted field utterly prevented it. Mixing the spices and grounds together, he set it into the machine and stepped back as he pushed the button to activate it. The manual french press would have been better but given his distinct lack of two functioning hands, it probably was not going to be feasible.
Thinking about the X-Men however sobered up his usually goofy demeanor. He leaned back against the counter, his question asked. Javi spent more time with them than he did, so it was as much a lost for Javier. He only hoped that S.U.P.E.R. would make good on their word and help the X-Mansion to rebuild. After how much the X-Men did for the world, it was the least that could be done for them.
Booker turned his gaze back to Javi and gave him a soft smile. He thought for a moment and then placed a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. ”Javi…I…I just wanted to say…I’m…sorry if you were worried about me out there.” He explained. ”By all accounts I…shouldn’t have been there. I was more a liability than anything. And…I’m sorry I put you in that predicament. I just…I wanted to help…I wanted to be there to help you and…I’m afraid I was more a hampering than a boon. And, for that, I am so, so sorry.”
Booker rolled his neck as he took his next round of pain pills. As much as he wanted to join the festivities last night at “Hexes and Hos” (he was aware of it), he was in too rough of a shape from that explosion. Thankfully DocProf, even though he couldn’t heal him, was still trained enough in medicine to know what ailed him. Broken and bruised bones and a near concussion. He was lucky it wasn’t worse than that and could be treated with a simple cast and some pain management.
In the end Booker was able to get back home, but not until late. He was grateful to rest in his bed but he worried that he would make Javier worry – especially since whatever was in that potion would eventually wear off. At least Javi didn’t wake up in a panic and fuss over him. Booker still liked to be independent, after all, whether injured or not.
Looking over his bruised face and his scarred chest, the librarian sighed deeply. Last night was stupid. He should have in no way been involved. He knew that. God was it COOL though! Quickly that thought was stamped down before it could reinvigorate him. He needed to be hurting right now. To do otherwise would be making light of everything that the X-Men are now going through.
Returning to the kitchen, a smile drew across his lips at the sight of Javier cooking. Booker snorted a little as he walked by, his free, working hand, brushing across Javi’s shoulders. ”My poor sweetheart.” He said as he kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. ”So sorry you’re going through that. Let me at least get the coffee brewing. Caffeine should help with the hangover.,” he nodded.
Several moments passed as he moved around the kitchen, setting up the coffee maker. During this Booker lifted his gaze to his boyfriend and smirked a bit sadly.
”You think the X’s will be alright? Like, their entire home was just obliterated. I can’t imagine what they are going through.”
Booker had experienced a heck of a night. And not in the same vein of “I finally beat my sister at her annoyingly over-lawed card game” kind of heck! This had been way more magical and cooler! He fought against mystics! He saw the Danger Room! He piloted a gosh darn Dragon Zord and flew in a pink bubble of magic! Memories were created last night that he may never experience again and he wanted to enjoy every single gosh darn second of it! However, pain made it difficult to remember it fully in a good light.
Wincing as he straightened up, she smirked softly when Javier came over to kiss him on the cheek. Booker’s good arm wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist to hold him close so he could lean down to kiss him back. However, the act of that caused another wince to his side. Okay, so maybe some help in the kitchen would be okay.
Self-harm wasn’t in Booker’s vocabulary. He would never willing make his injuries worse for the sake of doing it. However, truth be told, the librarian was a do-er. He did not like being ideal. He cooked, he cleaned, he worked, he had fun, he always managed to keep himself busy. Unfortunately these injuries were proving to be stern reminders that he had to take it slow and, despite his displeasure at that, the more he pressed on, the more he found himself needing to listen to them.
Finally Booker relented as he sidestepped Javi to allow him access to the stove. He wouldn’t hover. Much.
At the question he flashed the tailor a brilliant smile. ”Oh, I’m right as rain!” he attempted to say jovially – but grimaced at a throb from his bruised rib. With a guilty smile he slumped. ”Okay. Maybe I could be better. It’s, ugh, probably time for my pain med.” He then slipped away to get to the bathroom and the medicine cabinet within. From there he called back. ”One downside of being adapted, I don’t get to be healed by cool doctor mutants!” After the sound of running water and gulping, he returns. ”You? You went through a lot last night too. How are you doing?”
Booker was mostly done clearing things up when Javier had managed to rush in. At the questioning a guilty look crossed the librarian’s face. He knows he should be resting. As a matter of fact, if there were two people who deserved a day to sleep in, it was the two of them (and especially Booker because of his need to heal). But Booker had never been one to sit still for too long unless he was forced to. He was just someone who liked to keep busy and would often hear no alternative.
But not he was beginning to find some limitations. As Javier questioned him, Booker could feel the throbbing in his ribs flare up again. He was bent too awkwardly in an attempt to clean up. Thankfully he didn’t have to suffer it too much longer as his kind and generous boyfriend jumped in and started to help him clean up.
Booker smiled a bit sadly.
”Sorry darling,” Booker replied finally. ”Just…I guess my pain meds wore off and woke me up. After I got up to take them I got a really big hankering for bacon and eggs this morning so…” he shrugs innocently. ”...figured I could at least try to make breakfast. Though, sorry I’m sorry there will be no cinnamon rolls from scratch I DO have some leftover coffee cake if that’ll do instead?”
Cursed Maria Talbert Homemade Kitchen Collection! Booker grumbled as he squatted down, trying to pick up a few of the items with his remaining good arm. While he loved those bowls, and they were perfect for his baking needs, this wouldn't be the first time that they had betrayed him in this manner. Yes, what seemed like eons ago, when he had been dating this particularly yoga instructor, and Nessa was still living with him, both he and Atticus were – ahem…well, now wasn't the time.
Booker continued to mutter threats of scape heaps and goodwill stores to the bowls as he picked them up when he noted the form framing his kitchen door. Immediately the librarian straightened up, a little too fast because he winced at his injured ribs reminding him they were injured, and shot Javier a smile.
"OH! Um, hey babe!" he smiled and then jestered to the bowls in his remaining free hand. "Sorry! Didn't mean to wake you. Bowls just escaped my grip. Everything's okay though. Just…trying to get some breakfast started. Did you…sleep ok?"
Okay…so the thing at the mansion was a whole…thing. In all fairness, Booker should not have been there. He was a liability. He was an adapted and this was a mutants versus mystics fight. He was literally hampering not only his friends, but his boyfriend, and was vulnerable against the mystics and their strange abilities. It simply was not a good move. But, while he understood all that, he really just wanted to do his best to help. There was nothing wrong with wanting to help – at least that was what he convinced himself.
But, today was a new day and after a clean bill of health (no concussion!) Booker was feeling pretty okay.
…okay maybe not OKAY okay, but he was alive, his boyfriend was alive, and he had a sweet souvenir.
It was morning of the next day and while Javier slept in, Booker busied himself in the kitchen. Dressed in only his pajama pants, the librarian looked like he had had quite the time. A few bandages were wrapped around his midsection, gauze upon his forehead, and a few scabs from scrapes and cuts. He had looked worse! Though…maybe not by much.
Right now Booker was looking up at a shelf where once sat his vintage 4th Physician Sonic Socket, Booker had to remove it a few months back after discovering that it had actually been a fake and the certificate of authentication was forged. He had been wondering what to put there for a long time but wonder no longer!
Booker smiled as he looked up at the Dragon Dagger that now took up the space. It would forever remind him of the most awesome, and terrifying, night of life…where he piloted the Dragonzord against an honest Kaiju! Squeeee!
In his joy, however, Booker winced. There was that throbbing pain in his shoulder again. While he may not have had a concussion, he did get a few brusted ribs and lacerations and burns and a very slight stab wound when the zord exploded at the end. The worst part was that the mansions healer, DocProf, could do nothing for him. Immune to mutant powers and all that. But, he guessed that was always going to be the risk. He had to heal like a normal person now, bandaged and downing pain meds.
But that didn’t mean he could stop his life.
He glanced to his bedroom where Javier, he assumed, was still asleep. He was so brave last night that Booker wanted to honor that. A fresh pot of designer coffee was brewing, as well as a fantastic breakfast was on the way! Already the bacon had been placed in the oven (not without some wincing effort on his part) and he was getting ready to cook the eggs!
Now…he just needed…to figure out the best way to do that single-handed. Booker glanced down to his arm, still casted up and in a sling. It seems in his escape from the dragonzord, his arm got the smallest, tiniest hairline fracture, but it was all good! He could still wiggle his fingers, after all! Still…the difficulty had been upped. There was a small clatter as Booker reached under his cabinet for his bowl for the eggs. He could manage it. Truly! He didn’t need to wake Javier at all!
CLATTER!!!
Booker sighed. He was sure that the loud tumble of the steel mixing bowls was capable of waking even the sleepiest of super sexy tailors with a first name beginning with J.
