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.
Will listened as Quin talked about where she would have been. A tea shop? He didn't know where, but it probably wouldn't have been better off than the cafe, if this sort of crazy thing was happening everywhere. By Central Park? That... Sounded bad. No cover, people panicking would be running in every direction if something happened there. Maybe she could pull some kind of trick with her powers? She'd said she could feel things and move things with her mind, but -- he guessed there were limits, restrictions. There always seemed to be.
Moments before there was a shout, Will's blood ran cold. Footsteps. Purposeful. Headed right for the door. Crap. Maybe someone -had- seen them come in... Or maybe Rocky or Hammer or one of the others had some power that could track them? If Quin could feel things, maybe Rocky could feel rocks he'd thrown? Will's aching muscles tensed and his legs protested and it was only the stiffness in his legs and his own indecision that kept him in the bench long enough to hear the voice yell out.
“NYPD!”
Now, Will typically had feelings on law enforcement. But he'd call himself a hypocrite later, as a wave of relief washed over him at the yell and the appearance of the two law enforcers. His eyes locked onto the two advancing officers. Weapons drawn, they didn't look calm, that was sure -- who would be with the chaos outside, but neither did they look like they were going to jump at shadows. Cautious, let's call it. Maybe even professional, though Will's mind wouldn't allow him to think it.
However, even with senses sharp enough to give him seconds of advanced warning, it didn't make his brain any smarter or process what to do next any faster, and his hands were still in his lap until Quin gave him a nudge. Following her lead, he lifted both. Ow. One hand over his head, hoping that the pair would see the makeshift bandage on the other and understand his reluctant in putting it up as well. As one of them holstered their weapon, it seemed like it was enough -- though he supposed neither he nor Quin looked much like threats.
The one cop spoke, looking directly at Quin, referring to her as 'Archer'.
Quin had some emphatic feelings on that in response.
Will added this to his bucket. He prayed his later bucket would continue to hold all the things he needed to think about later, talk about later... though he couldn't help a baffled look from crossing his face, his eyes darting between the officers and Quin. The mutant was, however, courteous or smart enough to keep his mouth tightly shut for the moment.
It might not have served him terribly well over the last decade or so, but Will's underlying paranoia that everything was just a hair away from going wrong was about the only thing that was keeping him from being a complete wreck right now. That wasn't to say he was doing much, if at all better than Quin, but at least all that worrying had given him a fair resistance to stress. Still, he'd been working on wrong assumptions, using the wrong equation, but still wound up getting enough of it right. It did feel like betrayal though, that other mutants had been a part of it, he knew people would be people, good and bad regardless. The guy with the knife, sure, that sort of idea had been in his head since high school, but somehow he never expected to be on the receiving end of another mutant's abilities.
"Heatstroke in the park. Riot at the coffee shop. Sure, we can do tea and tidal waves next time." Will snorted, the laugh still forced, but a little less. Hard to say if fatigue was finally just beating down his ability to stay on edge, or if he was actually calming now that their immediate issues seemed to be solved. "Should I wear runners or flippers?" At least Quin seemed to be willing to put up with the bad jokes, throwing her own back at him.
What did you say to someone you'd only just met, but you owed your life to? To someone who's life you might have saved in turn.
Jeez. He might have saved her too, after all, huh? That wobbling pile of 'later' thoughts was starting to topple, and he couldn't help but go over their flight out of the cafe.
Quin took down Hammer and Bat. He distracted Knives and put him down. Quin said they needed to leave, they ran. The car... Yeah, even he'd just managed to notice that in time... And even if she hadn't been there at the time... it would have blocked off that back alley pretty bad. With all the noise from the front on Broadway? But he wouldn't have moved so quick if she hadn't said to move and he wouldn't have made it against all four and...
Will could feel his stomach twist as he realized the amount of times they'd skimmed though danger to get to the place they were now. The man raised his hands to rub his temples as though trying to massage away the thoughts of all the near misses. Will swore colourfully under his breath, letting out his breath a slow exhalation before straightening back up on the hard bench, shifting to try to get a bit more comfortable, the muscles in his legs feeling like they'd been completely shredded from their panicked flight. "Pretty lucky we ran into each other that day... Dunno where you'd be today otherwise, but..." He didn't want to, didn't need to finish that sentence.
Will knew that just sitting here and licking their wounds wasn't getting them anywhere, but he also knew there wasn't much else they could do. If they, if he heard anything, they'd react appropriately. There'd have to be some amenities here they could use if they needed to stay for any length of time, so with luck they could wait out whatever was happening outside.
Pull. Stitch. Hold that there. Not that one. Give that one slack. Easy. Easy now. Will made delicate changes as the seconds ticked by, staring down without really seeing as his forehead knitted together in an expression of concentration. It was... bizarre to just know how to do this, but it seemed just as strange to not know. How did you make a fist? You just did. Will used that innate knowledge and the ebbing of the phantom ache in his ribs to keep adjusting things. A minute passed, maybe two, and Will would have kept going, but Quin shifted, and he could feel her relax as he still held onto her wrist.
That was probably enough then. Too much and she might not feel the wounds at all, make things worse by moving around. Will made sure he kept that small corner of his mind locked around the link to Quin, held it fast, and gingerly let go of the redhead. Her wrist slipped from his hand, but the link remained. It held. Good.
”Thank you…How long….?”
Quin's question pulled him out of his head, the mental map of her senses winking out of his awareness as their physical connection broke. That tenuous link remained, keeping the changes he'd made locked in. That mental connection continued to feed a thin thread of his power into Quin, to keep her sense of touch dulled, but he wouldn't be able to make further changes without touching the redhead again. Of course, it would be easy enough to sever the connection and have her senses return to normal, but Will was pretty against that idea, at the moment.
"S'long as I can keep my eyes open, really." Will said. It was a bit of an oversimplification, and he might have been overestimating his resources -- he'd never tried to hold a link for more than a couple hours and certain not while he was in this shape, but... From what he could remember, holding a single link didn't put much of a drain on him, basically just the mental equivalent of making sure to keep your hand in a fist. "Just be careful, nothin's actually fixed. You just won't feel it so much."
Quin apologized while he was explaining, the two of them talking over one another, words tangling up. This time it seemed like it was Quin's turn to tear up and sniffle at the stress of the day. This was supposed to have been just a nice day. Where had it gone so twisted?
"Nah, s'alright..." Will said once they'd both managed to say their piece. "I'm one stubbed toe from breakin' down entirely." Will laughed, the sound a little brittle, too much truth in the words to be really funny. He took a long breath in and let it out slowly. It shook on the exhale. He reminded himself they were safe now -- at least for now. He tried to believe it. "I." Will started, lost his train of thought and trailed off. What was there to say? The man wanted to apologize for getting her wrapped up in this, Quin wouldn't be here if she'd never run into him. Will wanted to thank her for saving his life, and for still being here with him, but they'd probably just go back and forth on that.
"Y'know... Think I liked it better when it was just the sun out t'get us."
Will listened as Quin explained a bit about what her powers were like, what she'd done with the weapon back at the cafe. The little hesitations, emphasis on words... It was a familiar cadence, not different from the way he would try to describe the way he could sense the myriad ways that he could tweak someone's senses when he opened up that part of his brain. It wasn't seeing, it wasn't feeling, not exactly at least. Frustrating, not having the right word.
"It was dang cool though, watchin' you do your thing. Makin' a shield was smart. Movin' stuff without havin' to touch it seems super neat, too." Will complimented Quin's abilities and her actions in the cafe unabashedly as he tried to work up the nerve to try and help out with Quin's pain.
As Quin caught onto the words he didn't say and muttered how it sucked he couldn't help himself the same way, Will gave a little laugh, though it lacked humor. "Yeah -- Haven't figure out how to turn my own senses down. Can be a lot, sometimes." Will admitted. Didn't seem much point in not admitting it, Quin picked up on the things he didn't say about as quickly as the ones he did -- and it was a bit cathartic, being able to actually talk to someone about it. Even if the situation was completely insane. Any bit of comfort seemed appealing right now, maybe that was all it was.
Quin asked him what she needed to do and Will nodded in response. Raising a hand he hesitated before reaching out and gently grabbing one of her wrists. "Sorry, gotta hold onto you for it to work..." Will said sheepishly, as though he hadn't been grabbing her hard enough to leave marks only minutes before. Without the adrenaline and excitement from the chase, it felt overly familiar touching someone he'd only known for... an hour? Time felt weird right now. It felt like moments but also a lifetime. "But, uh, just lemme know if things feel too weird." Will tried to chuckle, managing a single weak 'ha', before he continued. "Gonna be dulling your sense of touch, so... You might feel a little numb, might make you a bit clumsy. But things'll hurt less." The effect would be more anesthetic than analgesic, but hopefully would allow Quin to breathe a little easier. If they had painkillers, he imagined they'd both be taking them, so this wasn't that different, really, was it?
For the second time today, and the second time in several years, Will reached out with his powers and Quin's sensory map stretched out in front of him like a tapestry. Unlike with Knives, he let this one linger, focused on it. As the link solidified, he could feel the faintest echoes of Quin's bruised ribs and the worst of the scratches from the fight. Just a hair more than sympathy pain and oddly distant, like feeling a blow through thick padding. Jeez -- that had to -smart- if he was getting feedback from it at all though. Will tentatively sifted through the cords and snarls and threads of Quin's sensory tapestry, focusing just on the ones that said 'touch'. Finding the first, he moved the thread out of it's natural place just enough, holding it there with a stitch of his own energy, so that it would hold it's new position, and moved onto the next. And then the next.
Neither of them seemed to be very good at admitting that they had done some good back there. Had the situation been less dire, Will probably would have either been amused or frustrated at the back and forth they kept getting into, brushing off their own actions and accomplishments and praising the other. And Will could tell Quin was not going to let this latest attempt of his pass without a similar fight. Suppose with how she'd fought and ran to get here, he shouldn't have expected her to just give up in an argument either, even if it was a good natured back and forth. "Guess I should be glad he didn't get my throwing arm then." Will joked back, giving a little humored scoff. "Y'got a good arm yourself. Guess it'd be javelin throwin' in your case though." Will teased back, recalling the makeshift weapon Quin had launched at the man wielding the bat.
And they talked about things that were less fun, but probably necessary. Taking stock of their injuries together. It was probably good to think about them, even if focusing on them made the hurt more obvious. Good to be as honest as possible in case things got bad again, and to make sure you were aware yourself of how bad you'd been hurt. As long as they were both being honest, it didn't seem like either of them were in mortal danger. A tiny laugh broke from his lips as he thought about how badly he both wanted, and didn't want a shower. How nice it'd be to get all the dust and dried and drying blood off of him, but how much the myriad of little nicks was going to sting when that happened. Silly.
Finally, Quin acquiesced to his proposition, but peppered him with questions. It almost seemed like she was looking for an excuse to not accept the help, if it so much as inconvenienced him. Boy was she stubborn. Combined with how she'd fought in the cafe, throwing away her shield and completely burning herself out, he couldn't help but think her actions rang as self-sacrificial. Maybe Quin saw herself as something of a martyr? Thoughts and questions again for the overfull 'later' bucket. Besides, it was a bit hypocritical for him to judge -- wasn't as though he'd always made the soundest of decisions.
Between his idle ponderings and trying to find the best words to use, Will hesitated as he thought about how to answer it all of Quin's questions exactly. It really wasn't the time to explain and complain that he'd been trying to get his abilities to work like that on himself for years. Eventually, as he wasn't able to find a good way to answer the first questions, Will decided to just ignore the first half and answer the second bit, since that part was easy. "Promise it's not gonna hurt me or anything." Will stated, giving what he'd hoped was a reassuring smile. "I haven't done this for a bit." Years. But half-truths seemed smarter here. "So might take a minute or two once I get started."
Quin said she thought he ribs were bruised, but she couldn't tell how bad things were. It sounded like she was pretty sure nothing was broken at least. But he'd have been equal parts impressed and terrified if she'd been managing to stay upright with broken ribs, let alone the running they'd done. He didn't know much about first aid beyond cuts and abrasions and burns. Cracked or bruised ribs were outside of his scope of knowledge. Did you mostly just leave them be? Wrap the person up like a mummy? Even if he knew, they didn't have anything to help. The church probably had -something- somewhere...
Will made a point of squinting at Quin's cheek as she showed the cut across her cheek, as though he were inspecting it thoroughly. Well -- he supposed he was looking more closely by default than most other people would be... Not important. "Well, if you pick at it when it heals, maybe. Be a story to tell for sure, if it does scar, 'bout how you saved some scrawny barista." Will gave a weak chuckle at the attempt at humor. Joking made things a little easier, even if the words rang a little hollow, he could smile at least, and it was starting to feel a bit less forced. He'd managed to work out the pick of... something, a half inch long sliver of sharp stone or ceramic that he stared at with equal parts interest and contempt.
Quin asked him if anything else was bothering him, besides the wound on his left arm, where he'd been... cut? Stabbed? Hurt with the knife from the thug he'd been struggling with. Will gave her a non-comitial shrug, pausing a moment before realizing Quin wasn't liable to take it as an answer. "Arm's the worst, for sure. Bit banged up from scuffling with the guy. Head hurts." That part was more than just the missing hair and the rocks that had caught him in the back of his head, trying to keep on high alert had left him with a throbbing headache as well. "And that one guy got me pretty good as we were getting outta there." Will waggled the shard he'd freed from his skin in demonstration before tossing it to the floor.
"If..." Will started, hesitated, then kept going. "If your ribs are real bad, I can help. Sorta." He raised a hand tentatively, but kept it close to his side, the mutant's brow furrowed in thought as though he wasn't 100% certain, but plugged on anyway. "Make things hurt a bit less anyway." He could still do that, right? His ability to debility someone's sense of touch wasn't so nuanced it'd just be -pain- he'd be dulling, but he could explain that if she agreed... Assuming he still remembered how to, anyway. The trick with Knives was easy. No finesse, just pull as hard as possible. This would be harder.
"Nothing's broken, at least." Will answered, flexing both his hands open and closed after Quin had let go of him. His left hand hurt, and the slivers of glass in his palm were driving him crazy, but without tweezers, steadier hands and a lot of time, there wasn't much he could do about that. The right was fine, fingers a bit sore from clutching onto Quin's wrist for dear life, but otherwise alright. Overall... he felt about as bad physically as he ever had. He could tell without looking he was bleeding and bruised across his back and legs, and his left arm felt heavy with how much the knife wound hurt. Mentally? He was tired past the point of being numb, raw and sore and he felt like he was made of spun sugar or glass.
"'bout as bad as I've been though, if we're bein' honest." Will gave a bitter laugh and a weak, vulnerable smile, rubbing his eyes with his good hand, the trembling in his limbs making his movements clumsy. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling the strands stuck to his forehead back and slicking them across his head.
Ow. He'd forgotten about the chunk of hair and scalp that Knives had taken as a parting gift, the tiny cuts at the back of his head from Rocky's last shot. Jeez. If anything bigger than the tiny shards he felt had caught him in the head...
Nope. Nope. Nope. Later. Didn't matter how full the bucket was, that was a later thought.
Will wiped his hand off on the thigh of his jeans, not wanting to know what parts of the wetness on his palm were sweat and what was blood, just letting the denim scrub away the evidence. He must look a mess. Quin looked, well... She looked like she'd been through what they'd both just been through. However long it'd been. 5 minutes? 5 hours?
"Hope the clergy doesn't mind us bleedin' on the benches..." Will muttered, adding a quiet laugh himself. It wasn't funny, but he didn't know what else to do but laugh. Cry? Scream? They felt appropriate too, but Quin was still trying to make light of things. To laugh. To try and keep spirits up.
Will let the silence hang for a long few moments, picking unsuccessfully at a bit of rock embedded in his forearm, trying to get it out before he spoke up. "Serious though... You got hit worse than I did back there, you sure you're alright?"
Will wasn't religious by any stretch of the word, but he was considering saying a prayer of thanks for the thick walls and heavy doors of the cathedral they'd managed to find sanctuary in. In spite of the chaos outside, the screams of people, malicious, panicked or pained, it was quiet. He could only imagine the people that were supposed to be here had vacated. He could only hope that whomever had been here was safe now.
It was calm, finally, blissfully calm. His rattled senses could finally begin to settle, instead of bombarding him with sensory stimuli so fast and so intense it made his head throb. It was quiet. The light was steady, calm. No movement except for them. The air was still, the ground was still. Taking a breath... well, he could still smell sweat and blood on them both, but... the church was oiled wood and ancient stone and the smell of old candles and incense.
Slowly, the steel coiled knots of his muscles slackened, going from a taut bundle of nerves and arching limbs to shaking like a leaf on the bench. Will's one hand was still wrapped around Quin's forearm, clinging to her either like a lifeline or like he was worried she'd vanish if he let go. "Yeah..." Will answered, dazed, almost not believing that they had made it somewhere safe, even temporarily safe. Even so, the tension wicked away steadily now that they were out of direct danger.
Trying to take a deep breath, it hitched, turning half into a sob as he choked it back. "Sorry..." Will apologized, gingerly raising his sore arm to wipe at his eyes. It wasn't so bad if he bent it at the elbow, just couldn't use the shoulder or bicep much right now. Later was starting to catch up, it seemed. Will took another breath, slower, more careful, let it out slowly. Sniffled and wiped at his eyes again -- he could hold off later for a bit more.
"You holding up?" he asked Quin, hoping his voice sounded more steady than he felt. Will wasn't 100% sure if he meant to be asking her if she was okay physically or mentally, being concerned for both.
Close it. Close it. Closeitcloseitcloseitcloseitcloseit.
Quin was saying something. He'd probably have a sarcastic or pithy remark if he heard it. Well, he heard it, but it was noise. Sounds. He understood that they were words but it didn't reach the language part of his brain. Will put his back against the door, both shoulders, felt the stones and bits of ceramic under his skin yell at him. He pushed with his legs, they yelled at him too. He might have been yelling himself. His feet scrabbled, then caught. The door didn't move, and then it did. It closed with a thud and his moment carried him into the heavy bronze and he leaned against it, gasping for breath.
Did they make it? Were they actually okay?
”I really need to sit down…”
Will heard Quin, actually heard her this time, the panic and blood pounding in his ears having ebbed enough that the rest of his brain was working again. Sitting down was a smart idea. He just needed to convince his legs that they wanted to keep moving. The didn't -want- to, but he made them and he was suddenly thankful for the hours he'd been forced to run in circles every week to keep from being able to hear the electricity humming in the poorly grounded sockets in his apartment.
Come on legs, you can quit soon, I promise. Will thought to himself. Momentum. Use it. An object at rest stays at rest. He was grasping at straws and dimly remembered physics lessons and half-baked platitudes.
Looking about, the immediate area was just hard floor and open space, but up ahead, maybe 30 feet and a few steps up were a stretch of chairs and benches.
Will tried to push off the door with his good arm, found it grabbed or grabbing Quin's arm. The distinction was blurry and unimportant and maybe it was both. He used it nonetheless to get to his feet proper and pointed with his bad arm, straight ahead. "There." It was all he could think to say. Then he was off, tired foot in front of tired foot. Each stepped he was either dragging or being dragged in turn. 30 feet felt like 300, but eventually it was 0, and they almost fell onto the bench. Even though it was hard wood and narrow and cold it was the best seat he'd ever found and he felt like crying. And he might have been. But he couldn't wipe his face to see if it was sweat or tears, because one arm hurt and the other was stuck to Quin and it didn't matter anyway.
"We make it there an' you can slug me as hard as y'like." Will muttered, desperate to cling onto some amount of normal in the insanity his day had turned into. Trying to joke, to pretend like putting one foot in front of the other wasn't taking every bit of physical and mental strength he could muster. It was the right choice, he knew, to make this run. To find shelter. But walking -toward- that noise, that chaos, even if not directly, was terrifying.
And then it was time to be quiet. Step. By step. It felt like a ludicrous kid's game. Or maybe sneaking around at night, trying not to wake one's parents as you snuck into the cookie jar, or peeked at the presents under the tree -- but so much more tense. He was wound so tight he could feel his shoulder throbbing in the makeshift bandage, every muscle was coiled like a steel spring and ready to snap.
They crept close. The noises were getting louder. Was it just because they were close, the buildings cutting less of the chaos? Were things getting worse? Will didn't have time to wonder as Quin took off like a shot and he followed in kind, a fraction of a second behind the taller mutant. As they crossed fully into the intersection, the sound almost bowled him over, and he made a point not to look, closing his eyes as he ran until the building blocked the sound of screams and carnage again, where he knew he wouldn't see anything.
Dang, but Quin was fast. Will thought he might have her in a marathon, but it was hard to keep up with her longer stride. His running was off anyway, he couldn't get a proper gait with his messed up arm. Didn't matter. Had to run. Had to keep up. He ran, kept pace somehow.
As they crossed the second intersection, Amsterdam, noised came down from further up towards the University but less than at Broadway. The worst of everything was behind them. Will still didn't look, focused on the doors ahead. Doors were closed. All of them. Good sign for nothing happening, but were they locked? Barricaded? Too late to turn back. As they hit the stairs together, his body felt like lead. The world was threatening to turn into a noisy smear of colour and sound as he ran out of fear to run on, ran out of adrenaline, running on spite and stubbornness and a half-drunk espresso.
He was aware of his arm twined with Quin's as either he'd grabbed her, or she'd grabbed him and they were hauling one another up the stairs. He was aware of the doors looming ahead of them as the made it, somehow to the top of the steps. Will threw his body, shoulder-first (having the send at least to throw his -right- shoulder at it) into the massive bronze slab, almost bouncing off. "Open, you piece of...." The mutant swore and hissed and dug his feet in as he felt the well-kept hinged give way to the desperate pushing of his exhausted legs, the door slowly grinding open, managing the push it open enough the he could stagger inside with Quin.
Will's legs were shaky as he stood. Shock, probably. Everything felt a half-step removed and a little fuzzy around the edges, but that was fine, he'd deal with that later anyway. The later bucket was full, so they'd just need to get along regardless. He was thankful at least, that for all the bits of mug and stone Rocky had gifted him, his knees and ankles seemed largely fine. Jeans took some of the edge off the blast too, but he was going to be picking some sharp bits ceramic out of his calf once they got properly settled.
"Least you had the courtesy to 'pologize," Will gave a weak chuckle, trying to play along with the joke, "'sides, I think there's probably insurance on 'em? Gonna..." Will shook his head as the realization that his job might have just gone up in a cloud of dust and angry hammer hands, especially considering there was no guarantee that the group hadn't done worse to the place out of spite after the two of them left. They hadn't been -chased- at least. Though, to be fair, most of them hadn't been in the best shape. "Gonna... figure all that out later." Will assumed there was going to be a later. There had to be, they hadn't fought tooth and nail to not make it.
Quin went on to explain that she didn't have any easy escape route either. Running all the way to the 55th was a -big- ask right about now. Maybe on a good day it wouldn't seem so daunting, but right now 50 blocks may as well be another state. As he tried dredging up any half-remembered scraps of places he'd been around here, Quin asked about the cathedral as a potential spot.
Will followed Quin's gaze to the, quite frankly, immense gothic church. Straight down 112th and they'd be there. 112th itself looked clear, but Will could still hear echoes of conflict coming from Broadway further up, 113th and higher. When they crossed the intersection, they'd be exposed to whatever was spilling over from where the trouble had started, were the noise was focused. If they were quick, they should be fine -- but that was assuming the church itself wasn't a warzone. Will stared down the street, looking for any movement out of place, anything that looked amiss with the cathedral.
Not a thing. Serene. Calm. It was almost eerie with the distant sounds of chaos in the air and the dust (or was that smoke?) rising from further up Broadway, towards the university. But it could work.
He had to hope they wouldn't get targeted crossing Broadway. Had to hope Amsterdam wasn't just as bad. Had to hope he could trust what his eyes saw when it came to the cathedral. And he had to hope they'd both be able to make the run. Two blocks. Two and a bit, maybe. Easy, right? He ran that all the time in the park. Easy.
"Yeah. Yeah I think that could work." Will agreed, nodding to Quin. He wanted a minute or two longer to think, to rest, to plan. Honestly, he wanted to lay down and wait for it all blow over... But not making a choice was making a choice to do nothing. There was a chance -now-. There was no guarantee that there would be one later. They could be found. The fighting, chaos, riot... whatever it was could spill out further. Their wounds could be worse than they thought and they might not be able to keep moving once it all caught up to them... Will looked over Quin critically at that thought, at the way she clutched her ribs, the blisteringly fast rock projectile coming to mind. Will didn't know how much that shield of hers had absorbed the hit, but it clearly hadn't been all of it.
"Straight for it's probably best... We can move quiet and careful at first, but once we get near the first intersection, run like your tail's on fire." Will said, as much to himself as to Quin. That'd make it easier, block and a half that way. Not two. Might make the difference.
"Yeah. Not like I knew exactly what it was, but I heard something way too big, movin' way too fast." Will replied as Quin half-asked, half-guessed that he'd heard the car before they'd had the misfortune to get in it's way. He did, however, shake his head as she said that it was amazing. "I dunno. Like you said, powers come in handy, but they don't feel like they're good for much most of the time."
Will could feel a conflicted knot in his gut at the praise. Partially, well... it felt nice. He'd been able to keep them from disaster, and on some level he -did- know it was because of his abilities and his choices, but... On the other hand, it felt unwarranted, like he was getting complimented for being able to see the colour purple. His senses being amped up was just something that was, not something he did, like Quin had actively managed with Hammer and Bat. He filed those thoughts and feelings away for later, but the 'later' part of his brain was starting to get awfully full.
"I sho-" Will started to apologize for saying that bandaging the wound was going to be worse because of his mutation, but before he could start saying that he shouldn't have said anything, Quin was already tightening the cloth about his arm and his words cut off into a hiss, the man sucking in air through his teeth as his hands twisted together. By the time Quin finished tying the cloth off, Will was lightheaded and could feel sweat beading on his forehead -- though that could have as easily been from the panic and sprinting as anything else.
"S'good... Better than bleedin' until I go anemic." Will replied to Quin's apology as soon as he found his voice again, speaking in a strained whisper. Testing things, Will tried moving the bandaged arm experimentally, tentatively. It still protested having to do anything, but the hurt was less sharp and severe. Seemed like the cloth was keeping the wound bound and covered well, and the pressure on it helped to keep it from opening further. "Thanks..." Will said as he leaned back against the pillar behind him, letting his head fall back gently against the stone.
Will allowed himself a few long seconds to just breathe. The stone was cool in comparison to the air and his skin, and it was solid, sturdy. One. Two. Three breaths. Okay.
"Okay. So..." Will said, sitting back upright, meeting Quin's gaze as he tried to keep calm. "What do we do?" He asked, trying to rack his brain for any options he could come up with. "Any friends? Places to go?" He placed his good hand on the stone plinth, slowly pushing himself up to his feet. "My apartment's not really close, and well, the cafe's... I could try callin' a coworker, see if we can hide there, but I dunno where any of 'em live if I'm bein' honest." He might not have been used to being caught up in the thick of trouble, but it didn't change things that much. He just had to find the way out so they could skirt the edge. There -had- to be a way out.
"Well then, from one insomniac to another, don't lemme keep you up." The tired mutant commented half-jokingly as Lee started getting herself ready to get back to running, earbuds being readied for... Well, Will assumed music, but who knows? Maybe she liked to listen to podcasts or audio books. Though, he was pretty sure it was music he'd heard earlier when she'd first taken them from her ears.
Will pulled out his phone again, pulling up a map to get his bearings. While he -was- quite familiar with the park, it was late, his brain was packed full and he didn't want to spend 10 minutes walking in the wrong direction now that he was finally tired enough to crash. Looked like the quickest way would be cutting through the grass to the street and then straight on for home. That was good, kept things from being awkward -- saying goodbye and then walking for the next five minutes in the same direction wasn't something he wanted to cap off the night with.
"Night Lee." Will said as he started trudging across the grass, a hand raised in a casual wave goodbye. Brain buzzing with new thoughts and body buzzing with exhaustion, he knew the only trouble he'd have with getting to sleep now would be waking up to his alarm in the morning.
Well weren't they a pair? It was clear neither of the two of them were feeling particularly proud about the way things had gone -- no doubt adrenaline and fatigue and pain fueling a lot of the negativity. And, well, it was always a whole lot easier to look back on what happened and say what you should have done, what you could have done. Hindsight is 20/20 after all. (Well, maybe more like 20/2 in Will's case.). "Think you're bein' awful hard on yourself. You made sure everyone got outta there, fought hard... just ran outta options."
Quin spoke about her powers, in his mind severely downplaying what she'd done. She talked about like they were a novelty, an amusement. Not something that had just saved a half a dozen people, if they were including themselves in the equation. Possibly more, if the skirmish at the cafe put Hammer and company completely off of any further trouble today. Slowed them down if nothing else. Will wanted to say something, started to, but the words wouldn't come. It wasn't as though he had a particularly healthy relationship with his own abilities, made it hard to protest her dismissal of her accomplishment.
At Quin's question that poked at asking about Will's own powers. As she asked about knowing about the car that had come barreling down the alley or what he'd done to Knives, Will tensed. He'd known the question was coming, invited it really, by commenting on Quin's. Even so, it was still a thing he was scared of admitting. But... not saying anything wasn't going to change the fact she knew -- and he'd toyed with the idea of telling her anyway. She'd shown him concern when they'd first met, didn't -really- know him so wouldn't be able to out him in any way if things turned out bad, and now it turned out she was a mutant herself?
"Senses. Can mess with peoples', like our friend in the cafe. And mine are pretty sharp." Will explained as simply as he could. He couldn't make eye contact as he spoke about what he could do, instead he eyed the strip of cloth as Quin readied herself to bind or bandage the gash in Will's arm. "Which means this is gonna suck." Will tried to make it a joke, forcing a laugh and a grin through gritted teeth as he prepared for the cloth to wrapped around his upper arm, closing his eyes in an attempt to distance himself from the experience.
Will sucked in air through his teeth in a hiss as Quin lifted the sleeve of his shirt. That really did hurt. She didn't look too worried about what she saw there so... probably not life threatening. She wasn't exactly smiling and cracking jokes though -- light duty for lefty for the time being then.
Quin was pretty sure there was an infirmary at her place? Will's mind worked over that sentence once, twice and then stopped worrying over it, beyond the fact that they could probably get some help if they got to wherever she lived. A school or something maybe? Had Quin said she lived on campus?
At her suggestion, Will fumbled with the ties from the black apron, wincing as he instinctively moved both arms to reach for the knot. Ow. More carefully, he used his one good arm to work the knot free and tug the apron off over his head, holding it out to her, the fabric wadded up in one hand, trying to avoid letting it touch the ground. "Good thinkin'. Wish I woulda grabbed the first aid kit from the cafe, but..." There hadn't been time, nor had he the presence of mind to even think about it until now.
As he held the apron out for Quin to take, he listened to what she said. It didn't sound like it was a story that came easy, and, she seemed reluctant to tell it at all. Long story, and it didn't sound like it was a fun one, from Quin's expression. Almost seemed like she had been struck worse from that question than the rock that had battered her in the cafe.
Then, she thanked him. Will was stunned, part confused, part guilty. A part of him nearly hadn't stuck with her. It pained him to admit, but a month ago, he probably wouldn't have stuck with her. Easier to do nothing and claim it was impossible, or not your problem. Easier to leave it to someone else. What was it called, the by-stander effect? Or maybe learned helplessness. Learned callousness, perhaps. Luckily, a stern talking to had recently shaken him up, made him think, at least a little, and so when push came to shove this time, he made a choice rather than giving up.
It was bizarre to realized how a couple chance encounters had gotten him to this exact point. Without that talking to... he probably wouldn't have had the guts to take down Knives the way he did. And if he hadn't run into Quin... Jeez. If Quin hadn't been in the shop, he probably wouldn't be here at all. The people in the shop either. Quin had been enough of a threat and a deterrent that the people inside had gotten out... whether or not they -remained- safe was beyond them, but... Yeah, he definitely owed Quin more than a coffee or two.
"I just... I just ran." Will clumsily tried to dismiss her thanks, conversational politeness and gnawing guilt making him feel too awkward to accept her words outright. "Should be thanking you. You saved our tails, takin' out half of 'em." Will paused before continuing. It was a sore subject for him, being a mutant, but it wasn't for everyone. Even so, he wanted to approach the next bit politely, carefully. "Neat trick you've got." He said, alluding to the use of her powers in the cafe. It didn't seem exactly like she'd been trying to -hide- what she could do, but it had also been life-or-death. That tended to change the stakes.
