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.
There were sounds of a few sets of feet outside the apartment. It seemed as if the police she had called were working their ways to the room. Not there yet, though.
It was Cheshire. Amelia was tired enough not to care that she had known he was around, and STILL shouted at him to freeze and acted as if he were the criminal.
Kendra was asking what to do, and Amelia just said: “Okay. Go check on the woman in the closet. Make sure that she is alright.” Left unsaid were the words ‘and he is telling the truth.’ She could be paranoid. It was a free country.
The man in the biker helmet was turned towards her, the one seemingly in charge. The one who had talked less, but been asked more. He had never really stopped watching her. Makes sense, she had shouted freeze. She could have a concealed weapon.
To Cheshire, she said: “You stay here until police arrive. They’re going to want a statement.”
The man suddenly sprang up from his position, to cling to the ceiling. No matter how much training one takes, it never really prepares you for that. He skittered towards the nearest exit, a doorway in the room that lead to a window. He was going to run away without giving a statement…
She could have drawn a gun, could have used her power to do a great many things, but— she was tired, and what was the point. She let the man go. As far as she was concerned, he was never there (until it became relevant).
He escaped moments before the police arrived. She turned to them. “The guy who tossed a woman out a window is on the ground. My invisible partner is checking on the second woman in the next room. Should be right back—“ Amelia said.
This was… far more complicated than previously thought. She needed… a closet, for which she needed a lock pick to pick locks.
People were potentially in danger, could be dying, and she had to pick locks. Couldn’t she just tranq herself, and they’d put the body by the door and just be okay with that…? Was that a big ask? Was that wrong?
And also, if she could pick locks, why hadn’t she just picked the locked door they needed to get past?
“Hrm…”
Amelia turned, and tried the locked door again. Time, essence. Nope.
A whole six minutes passed during which Amelia knocked frantically on the apartment door, tried to break it down with her shoulder, and used her cellphone to alert the police. She shared that she was with SUPER, but they needed someone to enter the apartment, and—
Cops can be real jerks, laughing like that.
She would have bothered Kendra in her closet, if she had retained the patience. What she needed, for the future, was her own set of lock picks, and laxer standards.
By the time Kendra had actually done something, Amelia had all but forgotten her. One. More! Shove!!
She rammed it with her shoulder, the very moment the door swung inwards. Amelia came tumbling through. She caught herself, rather than fall on the floor.
It was dark within the apartment, with the only light from windows and from the hall outside. It was quiet, though, which was a very bad sign. There had been screwsmung up until there wasn’t.
Cautiously, she shuffled into the next room.
There were two shapes in the dark. One was on the floor, not moving. The other was kneeling over the first. They seemed to be doing to the persons wrists, as they pressed a knee into their back. They had a rounded head shape to their form.
Ugh. There should be a law against elevator music and using this song. There should also be a law against people singing along to the song. In confined spaces, where one could not avoid them. It was almost enough to make her a bit punchy.
Amelia took a breath, and calmed herself so she could focus on the fact she was taking herself and another into a fight against an unknown person who may or may not be an enemy. It is possible the falling woman had been an accident. It is also possible it was not, which was what assumption she was operating under.
The doors finally opened once the elevator stopped, and she followed Kendra out.
Kendra drew her tranq gun.
>> "Pretty sure this is where I saw'em come in." She had her gun up like some sort of police officer. Amelia arched one eyebrow. "Split up and look for the asshole?" Kendra asked.
“Absolutely not,” Amelia replied. “Hey, can I—“
Another scream cut through the air of the apartments, and Amelia muttered a quick “Never mind” as she ran towards the sound of the voice, taking lead. Whatever she had been about to say, it did not matter any more.
They reached the place because someone was still screaming. Amelia spun to face Kendra.
“Tranq yourself and unlock the door from the other side. It’s locked and they need help.” She suggested. “How many shots are left in that anyway?”
Who had lead? She was Ill-suited to being the offensive end of this mission. Part of her incredulity had been due to the simple fact that her mutation worked on clothes, and the polar bear had no clothes. It had to have been a joke. But if they were serious, then she would take lead. And delegate. Be an offensive coordinator for coke bear mission.
“I will take lead.” She said. “But I value input. Follow me.”
Another part of her incredulity had been a bruised ego, and needing help. But she actually needed help, nudity was her number one weakness after all.
She nodded to the boss man, then started walking out the door: they could speak more in the car.
Along the way, she was quiet. Thinking. They would take her vehicle. The trunk was full of tools.
What did she know of this Ranger character? Not much. He shot trouble. She could use that. Again, delegate.
She unlocked the car and held the passenger door open for him. Then, she got in and started the car. Before she left, she turned to him.
“My power works on clothes and bears don’t wear clothes, so the trunk is full of tranquilizer rifles and assorted toys. I am hoping you will be able to help me here, and I’m not too proud to admit I value the help. I’d you have any suggestions before we leave, any gear you want got, we can get it. I can play coach but your power will be more useful today. You be quarterback. We will figure out the play.”
>> "Haven't seen home in years, but Georgia. Augusta actually. Just a peach pit in a whole orchard."
Amelia nodded. It was not really an answer, because it spoke of her past and not her present. Amelia let the woman get there. She did not rush.
She was between residences presently. Hmm. Blushing about it, it embarrassed her. Amelia didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to embarrass the woman more. She started talking, to fill the space.
>> "Ya know. I thought when you found me out i had really stepped in it. I was like, great going girl. You done picked a whole Boquete of oopsie daisies. But'chur not like that. You're a good person. I can tell. Got a knack for these sorta thangs. You would definitely be good cop. No doubt about it.”
“Thank you,” Amelia said. Cool, calm, collected. That was what the woman took from her. It wasn’t her, through. She just had learned some restraint… and in her day to day life, she rarely showed it. She must have showed it that day, if someone thought she was anything other than trouble. But she supposed she could be a good cop, even though she had been fired from the actual police force for being a bad, absentee, cop… she could at least be a good person. “I try.” She added.
A voice in the back of her mind spoke, and yes, it was Yoda from Star Wars. He had a lot to say on trying.
>> "I don't suppose you got a couch I can sleep on a night or two?"
O-ohh… oh, no. If she was trying to be a good person, that was absolutely something she ought not to do. She had restraint. She could be proper. But her first thought with this woman had basically been “she’s kind of cute, I should get her number.” On no planet did that mean “offer her your couch.” It just lead to too many bad places.
“I can find you somewhere to stay,” she said. “But I don’t think it will be my couch. I think SUPER has crash rooms, similar to hospital ‘on-call’ rooms. And we can find an apartment or something, probably…” she said.
She wasn’t really sure. There were options, but the woman was an unknown and she did not want to promise too much. Her place would have been a good place, if she knew the woman more and was not being Proper. The important thing was, they would find something that worked for them, and she would have… something. If only the mansion has not been destroyed.
They did not dwell too long on the subject because they got distracted.
>> "Hey uh.... Do we stop mutant break ins?"
Amelia turned to look at her. “H-huh?”
>> "I thank that guy just broke into that building.”
SUPER Was not the police. They usually did not respond to burglaries. They responded to violent mutant attacks, violent mystic attacks, sometimes humans doing bad things… but generally, the police handled stuff like breaking and entering.
It was late. She did not want to take longer getting this recruit to the office so she could be recruited. Amelia did not like letting her down like this, she probably wanted adventures. But seeking adventures wholeheartedly seemed like a nightmare to her.
Plus, where was the person breaking into? Looked like a fairly high floor. She did not want to climb that many flights of stairs, and could not fly. Stopping, getting inside the building (which probably had security), finding and riding an elevator… when things like this happened, they usually happened fast. And there was also the risk that either she, or Kendra, might get injured doing an unassigned mission. And then Amelia would be in trouble.
The driver glanced back at them. Amelia told him “Keep going.”
She tuned to Kendra. “Sorry. I’ll call the police now. That’s usually their job: we respond to violent mutant attacks and that sort of thing. And—“ A scream from several stories up caught her attention, a falling body.
Before she could react, the car had slowed to a stop, and a black and yellow blur had passed above them to catch the woman and stop, feet and one hand pressed to the side of the building.
It was a figure around 6’ tall, in jeans and a black leather jacket, with some sort of weird shoes on his feet. They looked almost like boots, except they seemed at this moment to look half-finished. Like they were all toe and no sole. He (they) wore a yellow smiley face motorcycle helmet, and the woman who had just been caught had her arms wrapped around their shoulders in a death grip. She was crying.
That changed things.
Amelia put down a bunch of cash, which should cover fare and tip, then stepped out of the cab. She did not wait to see if Kendra would follow.
This was a nightmare, an absolute nightmare. This night just kept going on and on. She was bound to get in trouble for this. Super did kind of act when things got violent and they saw.
She saw the mutant hero several stories above them. They were walking down the side of the building like it was regular ground. Amelia had heard of this hero. Cheshire was his name… because he wore helmets with smiles on them. He seemed like the jumping, acrobatics type. Lots of kicks and stuff.
Amelia rushed to the building entrance, and flashed her badge, then turned and directed a hopefully following Kendra to follow. She got them an elevator.
“What floor was it again? I guess they’re violent now. Maybe we will have backup from Cheshire…”
The elevator would take them wherever Kendra said.
((oOc Cheshire is one of my characters so I’ll move him if he moves, take us where you want and set the scene please!))
“The ancient commercials are on again, m&ms creeping up on a fat man. Polar bears with bottles they absolutely could not possibly open without thumbs.”
“Not that I’ve seen, no.” The agent eyed her.
Amelia eyed him back. “So, this bear mutant.”
“Polar bear shifter.” He said.
“Not the one from the x mansion. The one who helped with—“
“With the wizards?” He finished for her. “Thank god, no. That one’s just a kid. He’s a grown man. Goes by Ursa Major,” he laughed.
“So repeat the situation one more time…?” Amelia requested.
“One moment. They’re about to let him in. There.” A door opened. “Thank you for coming,” he turned to address the newcomer. A male. Looked smart. “We brought you in because our agent needs backup on this.”
“I do?” Amelia asked. He continued, as if she had not spoken.
“A 30 year old drug dealer has stolen a shipment of cocaine. He must have tried some of it, to ascertain quality, or whatever, but the substance interactions with his mutation have been frightening. Currently, we are in hour two of his rampage in the warehouse districts by the docks. You know the ones. We have cleared the area of workers currently, and kept it off the news, but we need your assistance to take him down and bring him in alive. Local law enforcement wants to use him for information. Target is a full-grown polar bear shifter, high on cocaine, and angry-“
“Can’t believe this…” Amelia cut in.
“Mr. Hunter, can you help?”
Everyone in the room looked to the ranger for confirmation. The brown-haired woman in a black duster looked annoyed.
Oh, a person she had known. Nothing super interesting. And probably a mistake. Amelia’s curiosity deflated like— a pricked balloon was a boring and overused phrase. An overripe melon? Pumpkin? No, those took time to deflate, and her interest had escaped her rapidly, like the gas that escaped the Hindenburg. Wait, no, too much. Oh well, maybe there wasn’t a phrase to describe her loss of interest, but she was also a little disappointed.
Would have been a lot cooler if it had been armed robbers or Timmy. Or if Kendra had just been covering for inexplicable embarrassment. Yeah. Or that. Kendra was talking a lot, though. Like to cover. Amelia knew how that worked, from experience.
Daydream wanted to stay Daydream. “No need,” she agreed. “Don’t even need a code name. I’ve never had one.”
They went back to walking.
After a minute, Kendra said >> "So, does this make you my partner?"
Amelia talked for a while, about company history or her own history or about all the partners she had once had or about the fact she had never had a partner in her life or about Kendra’s super status, or lack thereof. But none of it mattered, because Kendra was daydreaming. Gotta maintain the brand. Amelia absolutely had not gone pointedly silent once she realized Kendra was not focusing, only to start talking incessantly once she realized Kendra had tuned back in. To make it seem as if she was in fact talking. Probably this entire time. She had not done that, noooo. Nobody could ever prove such a thing.
“… and after your probationary ‘trial’ period, an agent may be assigned to you, or you may request-“
>> "You know. I thank if'n we were in a buddy cop movie. You would be the bad cop. And I would be the good cop."
She thrust out her thumb. “Taxi!!”
My god, it actually worked. A yellow cab stopped at the curb. Amelia gestured to get in. Once situated, she gave an address and they were off. She turned back to Kendra.
She smiled. “Horse goes before cart. You can talk partners with your hiring officer. Usually, my only partner is myself.” An in-joke. She smirked at it. She could be her own good cop bad cop. It wasn’t a funny joke. Not a funny situation. She had her moments. She couldn’t always account for every moment of the day. Sometimes, she even woke to find a mug of coffee clutched in her right hand. And she was left-handed. She paled, and covered it by looking out the window.
“I would make a good bad cop though, wouldn’t I? Make peoples’ clothes feel too tight, make them tense, do something menacing. Completely out-of-character.” She talked low. Then her voice brightened. “So tell me about you! Home life? You have somewhere you’re staying?”
The cab rolled along.
Agents needed somewhere to stay, stability of sorts. She had been a cop, and knew what lack of job often meant. Ride to assume, but the thought had struck her and she felt obligated to ask.
Were there barracks at HQ? Apartments they supplied? All good questions to ask, in general, alongside required time to unlock dental and health care coverage, vision, etc. She had never hired on. This was all going to be new territory for her.
Aura got intense for a minute. Amelia let her process things. Sounded like it had been a hell of an experience. She had been full of anger after her kidnapping too, but super had not taken her mind and made her do awful things. So—
They moved on to numbers and rides. Aura was for it.
Amelia made a call. Like 15 minutes later, the x jet arrived. It landed, vtol style. Amelia led Aura in.
Shard greeted Aura jovially enough. Said something about deja vu. Then, Shin flew them to the other side of the water, somewhere safe. They dropped aura off.
“Call me,” Amelia waved.
The jet took off vertically, then disappeared into the night.
Grand tour of thangs. Somehow, Amelia liked the way the woman spoke.
She nodded. Moved through the door.
She kept walking a few moments after Kendra stopped. Didn’t see her pause, as the woman had been behind her. Amelia only noticed it when she turned to look back at the woman after she had said something.
What was with that body language? Forcibly looking away from her, at the end of the street.
Amelia turned and stared in the same direction, she saw nothing unusual. Maybe if she moved to where Kendra was standing…?
Amelia ignored the question for the moment, as she stepped up beside Kendra, and staaared where she was staring. Long and hard, she squinted even. Then, she squinted at Kendra’s face, up close. Eyes.
“What were you staring at so intently you stopped walking and locked on a position down the street? I was worried you saw armed robbers, or terrorists, or Timmy fell down the well. Hm? Oh. And we’re telling them who you are, so you can choose whatever name you want and don’t have to pretend. Now. What was so interesting? Hm?”
She tilted her head, still kind of close. It had been a long day. She was tired. And this minor bit of confusion had really hit her. As far as she saw, she saw a New York street at around 11:00 at night. Did Kendra want a hot dog from the vendor or something?
>>Kendra turned gongs to her abilities with a question. "What exactly is'it you do anyways? Those were some impressive powers. You put a hurt'n on that boy."
A hurt’n. Yeap. She opened her mouth to reply, but Kendra gif to blurtin’. She filled the mouth with pie, instead. Listened.
Dreamwalking. Definitely explained the tranq gun. Which had been useful. Hell, Amelia didn’t dream walk and she was planning on requesting one from the higher ups. Then, when people asked what her power was, she could say “uh, sleep gun, duh?” And leave everything else a happy mystery. Instead of answering like she soon would.
Invisible bullets were interesting…. Note to self: if she joins, get her a machine gun. Or don’t. Yeah. Maybe don’t requisition that item, instead.
Amelia idly wondered what would happen if Kendra brought clothes. Invisible jacket that the woman had been holding in her arms, would Amelia be able to manipulate it? Could she manipulate clothes she could not see? She had never tried.
“Yeah. Invisible katana would be terrifying. But you can see you and you can see what you’re holding? Lose a hand, otherwise.” She chimed in. Kendra had said ‘know what I mean?’ Yeah? Well? Amelia did.
Kendra confessed something she probably thought was awkward:
>> "I have to have time to rest. If i go to hard at it.... My brain doesn't get the proper amount of rest it needs to do whatever it is it does, and my cognitive functioning, inhibitions, decision making skills all go down the crapper.”
But then wasn’t that most people?
Maybe not so awkward after all. ‘Long as she didn’t snooze on the crapper, least. She left that unsaid.
The waitress was eying them. Oh boy. Hater, concerned citizen, or Karen who disliked profanity, Amelia wondered. They had said crap. Crapper. Crap. She took a long drink of coffee, and shot the woman an apologetic look. The woman turned, and pulled out a weathered bible. The waitress ignored them, and read. Looked like she was in a juicy bit. Amelia’s shoulders relaxed.
Kendra had finished/ it was Amelia’s turn.
“Well,” she began slowly. “Powers as they are, I think I can safely say I am a daydream believer.” Was this the 12th or 13th time someone had made that joke?
“My powers are… Kind of complicated,” Amelia took a sip of her coffee. “I manipulate clothing… make psychic constructs that affect it, put buffs on my own clothes, that sort of thing. Defensive ones. One time, I kicked an evil wizard in the crotch with my mind.”
She volunteered the information earnestly enough, wincing only a moment after, as she recalled how that had ended for her. He got naked and blew up a mansion. “Pro tip though, if you see any flying wizards, you’re better off running the other way.”
The waitress looked at her pointedly. She had said crotch, hadn’t she? Amelia finished her coffee in a quick burning knock back like a shot. Luckily, it had mostly cooled. Mostly. Her pie ala mode was long gone. They should take the hint.
Amelia put down enough cash to pay for both of them, plus tip.
“Want to get out of here and go join up?” She asked. It was, what, 10 now? Almost 11? Headquarters was like Denny’s, always open. “Or we can do it tomorrow. You’re probably tired.”
Her real name was Daydream, not nightmare. Well, what a difference that made. Like night and day. Ba dum tsh.
Woman was untrained, and clumsy. She had noticed some of that during, but had not wanted to say anything. Sometimes agents get upset about being called out on their areas they need to improve upon.
She nodded slightly. “I see.”
Training can solve a lot of problems associated with being untrained.
Woman needed money, though. Was not opposed to joining up. Maybe she ought to learn what Super actually did first?
>> "Sure what's the job?"
Amelia explained it for about a minute. It went something like this:
“SUPER stands for Strategic Unit for Preternatural Experimentation and Research. Which means— uhh.”
God, that was a dated title. Did they even do experiments and research any more?
“Well, basically, over on the other side of the rift they used to bag and tag dangerous mutants so they could monitor them. And sometimes they appear to have done some preternatural experimentation and research, but what I basically do is respond to violent—“
Then Kendra daydream was like:
“sorry sugah, could you repeat that for me?”
So, she did. And was really glad that daydream had entirely missed that that entire minute of faltering.
“SUPER catches bad guys. Mutants who cause problems. Or sometimes, violent offenders who aren’t even mutants. One time, we went after a woman with a drug that made people turn young. That sucked, on the receiving end. Recently, we fought magic people who wanted to open a portal to a world of magic and summon an eldritch god. We, uh, stopped that, too. Super hush hush, very top secret.” She winked at Kendra.
Dear god who ever had placed her in charge of recruitment was a fool.
“I’ll tell you what. I am able to set up a meeting with the group to talk about recruitment and to further detail what it is we do. We can arrange for training, and put you in a starting position, or even an internship. You can learn from experience. Start small. And have an exit strategy.”
>>the woman known as Kendra decided that she was going to go onto the offensive. "What brought you into this line of work?" She asked.
“One sec,” Amelia said, looking at the menu.
Their trip to the coffee shop had been silent, thoughtful. She had been full of thoughts. Did she share the truth, the whole truth, or a selective truth doctored with not lies, but omissions. That really depended upon their goal here. What was their goal, here? Ah right, here was their goal: recruitment.
“Black coffee and a slice of peach pie, thank you.”
The waitress left.
“Now then,” she smiled at Kendra. “I’ll give you the short story. We can save the long one one for a rainy day. You remember that rift in reality a few years ago?”
Ah yes, Amelia. That little ol’, very common rift. Around seven years ago. “It was all over the news. Warping, time dilations, all built up to ripples in reality, and people literally walking over from the other side. That’s SUPER’s coming-to-America story, ala American Gods. They came from over there. Okay, that was the back story. You’re following now. Good. Short version, coming right up.”
She paused. The waitress arrived with their coffee. And her pie came with ice cream. Kendra also had not left. Suuuuper.
“Okay. So. I joined SUPER,” Amelia said slowly, mixing a forkful of pie and vanilla ice cream. “When I assumed the identity of my Alternate Reality self and infiltrated their ranks. I got guilty and told them. Now they check their agents a bit better. Which is why I’m the best person to offer you a job. Turns out, Nightmare stayed on the other side of the rift when it closed. So, do you want to hear about the job now?”
Once the final dose had been administered, Amelia covered the man up. Pulled them up. Dismissed her constructs, and whipped out her work phone. While Nightmare looked after the injured woman and reveled in praise, Amelia made a quick call to corporate.
“Agent Mellitus, here. I caught Drake.”
Words.
“Yes already. He was on the same subway train as me, if you can believe that coincidence. Just one car over. Plus, I had help!”
Words.
“Agent Nightmare.”
Words.
“Uh huh.”
Words.
“Uh huh…”
Words.
“Uh huh. Listen, we’re just pulling into the station. You have my location data. Track me, be topside asap so you can pick this man up. I’ll handle The Rest. With my history—“
Words.
“Okay. Bye.”
Amelia hung up. She rubbed at her chest absently, in the spot she’d been hit. Hurt.
They were stopped now. Paramedics took the woman. She was in good hands. Wound looked like she wouldn’t bleed out. Hadn’t lost enough to be a concern. The way she had cursed Robert, rather than passing out… had it ever been in doubt?
“Nightmare” approached. Bad feelings in the background of her mind. ‘Told you so.’ They weren’t hers. Her inner ghost roared.
>> "Need help with this one?" The woman asked.
She smiled a winning smile at the woman with the Georgia accent. “I never turn down good help~” she said.
Together, they got the unconscious man to his feet. The cloak drifted over to them, at a flick of Amelia’s eyes. Her smile faltered slightly, as she split her focus. Half on nightmare, half on slipping the cloak back on the man’s shoulders. She was a hood liar, though. By the time it was on, the smile was back.
“We’re supposed to take Robert topside. Help me with this,” she shifted her body to better contain her side of him as they stepped down out of the subway car. Amelia glanced at her as she followed. Smiled. “Maybe we don’t tell them we pantsed a mental pattern together.” She winked.
—
Topside
SUPER support came. Quickly. Four officers, in plainclothes. They bound him, they had sedatives. Prompt, polite, professional. They had already coordinated with emts and New York transportation authorities to share information. Victim data, video. “Everything else will be in your reports,” they assured nightmare and Amelia. They did not plague them with tons of questions. They did not eye nightmare. Nodded, smiled at her. All in all, it took 5-10 minutes for them to collect the patient and professionally lie to her face.
They were done. Amelia grinned at Nightmare, after super had left. “Sooo, coffee?” She asked. “And first names. I think we’re there now. People who save my ass get to call me Amelia.”
She never had done aliases. What do you call… that. Whatever it was she could do? Food for thought.
>> Yeah.... I uh.... just so happened to be on the scene" Nightmare said.
“How convenient,” Amelia commented.
‘This was Nightmare, from the AV,’ the ghost in her mind seemed to chide her. ‘Believe me.’ A mental feeling of confidence suppressed her brief flash of doubt.
Yes, odds were against it. But a lot of people had come over from that Counter-Earth. Come onnnnn~
She don’t have much time to dwell on the thought, because Robert hit her and sent her flying. Oof.
She addressed Nightmare, and begged Robert to stop. Did her thing. And Nightmare tried persuasion as well.
>> "Last chance Robert. I don't give second warnings. If your next words aren't I surrender. You're going to be in a world of pain."
Or was that intimidation? It was Nightmare. Of course it was intimidation.
>> "You okay agent?" The woman asked.
“Peachy.” Amelia got to her feet. Her purple haze vanished as she mentally dismissed it.
Robert was talking, now. The same old tripe. Nightmare shot him, in response.
Amelia took a step forward, involuntarily. This was supposed to be non-lethal!! But then, oh— it was a dart. Not a bullet. On account of it being visible, and not exploding his head and stuff. If they had needed exploding zombies and vampires, she could have done that with the gun in her pocket.
Good. She would not have to discipline the other woman… Although it was taking a while for the sleepy time dart to do its thang.
Enhanced endurance. Right.
Nightmare slid towards Robert, tripped him up; Robert fell on his face. Nightmare mounted his back, and pressed her little stick where it would threaten and hurt.
>> "You have the right to remain medicated. Maybe you should take the hint. It's okay people...." Nightmare said addressing the other subway patrons. "We got him...." She said forgetting already about his super strength. But he didn’t.
With a huff and a grunt of fury, if not effort, Robert, nee Dracula, pressed against his cloak and the ground. A bead of sweat slid down Amelia’s brow as she tried to hold back the tide with a mental effort. But— pop. There went her mental control. There went Nightmare, as she tumbled off the rapidly rising Robert.
He untangled himself from the cloak, presently. Tore it off, cast it aside, then turned. A little slower than he had been moving before, perhaps? He reached out, and picked Nightmare up with both hands… He held her aloft, anger in his eyes. But he did not throw her. No. He held her, a hand under each armpit, maybe even gently? And as he stared at her, he seethed.
“You…” he said, quietly. “Have the same voice as the spirit from before. I see thees now. You are no ghost… yet.”
Yes, it was gentle. He set her down on a subway bench, gently. And smiled at her, darkly. It was almost an insult. He was much stronger than her. Twice a man’s strength, even. Which meant he would need double the dosage.
The man dressed as Dracula loomed above her, like a… well, like a goddamn nightmare. He hauled one arm back, fingers splayed. His nails were like claws, filed to points, and painted… a dainty black. Like the night. He flexed his fingers, and readied his coup de grace. His killing blow. As he did, a pink drill of aura spun into existence on the left fist of the woman behind him. And another mental construct filled his pants…
Amelia now had limited clothing sense awareness and control over the contents of Dracula’s pants. Yay.
Dracula prepared to kill nightmare. Amelia prepared to control his pants.
“Hey, Robert!” She shouted.
“Dracula!” He turned. He was getting tired of people calling him the wrong name.
“Eat this!! Aura drill!!!”
Amelia rushed him, and swung the massive pink drill. It was over a foot long, and around half a foot at its base. It spun threateningly at his face. He moved to take a rapid step back, met unexpected resistance in the form of a pressure in his clothes, staggered at it, and readjusted to fling himself backwards forcefully, using upper body strength alone.
His head whipped back. Not fast enough.
The drill spun cleanly through his chin. And out the other side. The chin was flawless. Constructs she made could only touch and manipulate clothes. He has not known that. Robert had overcorrected. He was falling. As he fell, the drill vanished and reappeared, as a hand. On his sleeve. She knew aikido. Little pressure, redirects big force. She applied force, and guidance. Turned him. Helped him land once more on his face. Boom.
Ghost hand pulled his pants down, just a little. Exposed cheek. Very tastefully, very professionally, like an attending nurse assisting a doctor. Held things in place.
“You know,” Amelia noted. “One of the best places to administer a shot is the buttocks. Nightmare, you have more darts, right? Give Robert his medicine.”
“No,” Robert yelped. “Halp!”
The ghost pants pressed down on his legs with all her psychic weight, pinning him to the floor. He lacked the leverage to escape.
All of a sudden, a laugh happened from seemingly nowhere, and Amelia’s skin crawled. Robert swung at the sound.
Amelia blinked at the series of events that briefly followed the Dracula wannabes attack on thin air. At first, she had thought it was an attack on her, so she had stepped back. But someone nearby was like “hey, what the heck?!” And stood up, like something had bumped into them. And that was weird. And then nothing much happened after that.
Robert glanced around. “Spirit!” He shouted. “I am your master. Obey!”
“I don’t think it’s a spirit…” Amelia muttered to herself. A different word was in her mind. Mutant.
An invisible person? Sounded feminine. The laugh had, at the very least. An invisible girl.
“What would it be, then? Loathsome hag.” Robert asked.
“Putting a pin in that loathsome hag comment for later. Have you ever heard of mutants, Robert? Because you are one.” Amelia said.
“Mutant?” His tone was scathing. “This term. I do not know what it means.”
“Mutation: Any change in the DNA sequence of a cell. Mutations may be caused by mistakes during cell division, or they may be caused by exposure to DNA-damaging agents in the environment. A mutant in this day and age is someone with shiny powers that let them do stuff, like suck blood to get super strength.”
Robert sneered at her. “My powers be not mutation.”
Footsteps echoed down the metal sausage tube that was the subway car. A few moments later, an exhausted woman was panting. Doubled over. Holding up a finger. Catching her breath.
>> "Hang on, just gimme-gim-gimme a minute. I put a hitch'n my giddyup. Im plum tuckered."
And she had a Southern twang.
A sensory memory drifted in from the back of her mind. The sound. The ghost of a memory of a face came next. Then, a name.
As the woman took her time learning how to breathe again, Amelia eyed her.
This was not a normal memory type situation. She, herself, had never known this person. This was an Other Amelia type memory, wasn’t it? Like when she had tapped into the memory of the secret government installation she had found using memories stored in her brain from somebody else’s mind.
Long story short, there had been an alternate universe and she had found her evil twin there. They’d fought here. She had gotten hit by an unrelated psychic attack from the third mutant on the scene, who had simply been there before evil twin had tried capturing her for SUPER fun. And two minds, evil twin and Alpha Amelia, had merged. So… This was an Evil Twin Amelia thought. This woman looks like the SUPER operative, Nightmare.
Amelia ran with the stray thought for a separate mind within her own head, and tried not to think too hard about it that very moment.
“Agent Nightmare,” she said. “Glad you could make it. Could use your assistance peacefully helping this fine gentlemen over here. Robert, we’re agents of SUPER, your doctor sent us to help you. Will you let us?”
Robert ran at her with blinding speed, and threw a punch at her chest with the strength of two men. It sent her flying backwards, towards Agent Nightmare. Amelia’s mind flew into action. Something like a purple haze caught her like a baseball glove at the last moment. It cupped her in midair, a rounded, partially-visible psychic construct. It hung about a foot from Nightmare’s location.
Over her shoulder, Amelia called out: “don’t let him hit you, Nightmare! If I weren’t wearing an enchanted duster, I would be puking blood from that hit.”
She wasn’t, she was in pain and grimacing through it. There would be a bruise like a horse kick tomorrow.
She looked at Robert. “Please, calm down. Please.”
Then, she held up both her hands and sent psychic energy into the body of count Dracula’s cape. It started to wrap the count up in a massive hug. The hug would not detain him for long. He was strong, strong as two men. And her focus imparted the strength levels of one Amelia Mellitus, who sometimes worked out. But it was a sudden surprise, made to buy time. And that was all she had hoped for in life.
