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.
Posted by Chase Taylor on Jun 1, 2017 12:13:41 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
Chase shook his head. He did not have a sword.
"I could... use a stick?" the child offered.
>> "And are your parents okay with it? We don't want you to get in trouble."
Despite his youth, Chase understood the implications. His own parents had surrendered him because of his mutant gene, he went to a school for mutant kids. He knew exactly the kind of "trouble" the giant monster-mutant was talking about.
"I don't think I'll get in trouble," the changeling child assured the larger mutant. As he spoke, the color his hair bled from its usual black, to a ginger-red, making-known what he'd otherwise have to explain. It then reverted to black, "I go to a mutant school and Mama works there. She'll understand."
A mutant kid from a mutant school whose adoptive Mom worked there. No problem at all!
"So can I?" Chase persisted, "I can go get a sword no problem! O-or maybe I could be a wizard or something! Please?"
Posted by Chase Taylor on Jun 1, 2017 12:03:49 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
Delta 7's ears perked at the unfamiliar word that Mirage hissed.
>> "Okay, kid, listen. We'll get you out, okay? I don't know when... but we will. It is what we do. There are... others out there, like us. Not everyone is running scared."
Delta 7 nodded his head slowly, touching his hand to the mirror. He knew he forgot things-- he knew, because when he tried to wander back in his memories, it was muddy at-best before he hit a wall. Hopefully he could hold onto this memory, though-- that there were people out there, like Mirage, who would look for him. Who would get him out.
>> "Can you tell me anything about the other places? Or the place where you normally are? Anything like, what you see from a window, or how many floors there are, or how long it takes to get there?..."
Delta 7 waded his way through his recollections of the other place, the place where he usually lived.
"There are lots of trees, and we have to drive to get to the buildings. There are no windows, but there are a lot of floors." Implying that it was mostly underground.
"We go down small roads through lots of trees, then big roads." Highways or freeways, as some with more worldly schema might say. "I get morning rations before leaving, usually, leave after requisitioning. The sun is usually diagonal when we leave. I usually get midday rations upon arrival, and the sun is directly above." It could be assumed that it was between three to five hours away.
What made Delta 7 an asset to SUPER was likely what also made him dangerous. Despite his lack of real-world knowledge, his observational skills were one of his strongest suits.
Posted by Chase Taylor on May 21, 2017 11:10:38 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
Mr. Turner allowed for groups. On one condition--
>> "But if you work in groups, you share a grade. You can work solo if you'd like or form groups. I won't put a size limit but I grade off the person who does the worst."
Chase nodded, his eyes swivelling back towards his classmates. Anything was better than working alone. He didn't know what to do, which meant failure was sure-fire alone. At least if he was with someone, the likelihood of not-failing was a little higher.
>> "So if you form a group and someone stands around doing nothing congrats you all fail together."
Doing nothing wouldn't be an issue. He'd do something-- whether that something was "fail" or "try", it would be something. Mr. Turner said something about "dropping out" but Chase glazed right the heck over when he started to talk about that. Mr. Turner announced he'd make rounds once everyone got started, and the students set to deciding on how to group themselves.
Chase looked at the kitchens, the small cubicles with their own ovens, sinks, and counter-space.
"Even if we all work together," the twelve-year-old said, "I think there should be two or three people per station. I don't think there's enough room for more than three butts."
Amber asked if anyone actually had any skill with cooking. A silver-haired Asian girl announced that she had some skills. Chase shook his head wordlessly. He didn't have any, that's why he wanted to be with other people. So that they could carry each other.
In the back of his mind, Chase wondered if the silver-haired Asian girl would let him borrow a personal affect. He could just turn into her and subconsciously acquire the skills she possessed around cooking after turning into her. No... that would be cheating...
With his hand still covered by a sleeve, Chase lightly tugged on Amber's sleeve.
"Wanna work together?"
She looked different, which already gave Chase a sense of kinship with her. Though he looked humanoid right now, he could just as easily devolve into his natural form and be just like Amber.
Posted by Chase Taylor on May 17, 2017 19:09:13 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
>> "Good. Tell me everything you know. We can help you get out. Anything you can tell me will help."
"We?" the child lifted his gaze again, touching a clenched fist to the mirror, his eyes searching Mirage's, "There are others?"
The faintest glimmer of hopeful yellow-green wove its way through Delta 7's eyes. Mirage might not be able to reach them, but if there were others... maybe... maybe they could.
"There are other places like this!" Seven said, his voice raising above a whisper. He was crying now, but his voice was resolute and betrayed no weakneses. Anything he could tell Mirage would help, so he had to tell her everything he remembered, "We look for people like us, who can do things. Bad people. And we shoot them with these guns... but they don't die! It's a bag-and-tag." He didn't know the full extent of what that meant. It's just the term that Kappa's or superior Delta's threw around.
"And sometimes there are people they want, so I find them," Delta 7 said, "With my powers. And then... well, then they take them. And they do bad things. I think they do, anyways."
He was too young to really understand and besides, it wasn't as though SUPER detailed what they were going to do to Delta 7 when they kidnapped him. They just did it... the holes in his memory also didn't help.
"They did bad things to me," Delta 7 confided, "That's how I know. They did bad things to me, and sometimes they still do. They hurt me."
Seven's expression hardened, his eyes staring past Mirage, toward the reflected corner of the room, "They strap you down and poke and prod and zap you. They make it so you don't remember anything and do only what they tell you to. They hit you. They make you mean. They make you fight... that's what they made me do, anyways."
Chase's eyes pulled towards "Amber" first, and then towards the blond girl who joined them, Allegra. Allegra squawked at Amber and then stammered something about how interesting the class would be, and how hopefully they wouldn't cook people. Amber said something about, "Why not people?" and this earned a laugh that was a little-too-loud from the twelve-year-old. Why would they cook people!? The idea was so absurd, the twelve-year-old couldn't help but laugh.
"D-do you eat people?" the twelve-year-old asked the blond, not wanting to seem to judgmental. The colors in his eyes flickered through an array of curiosity and amusement, but he quieted as the teacher gained control of the class. Allegra asked if the boy thought they'd peel potatoes or do push-ups and the child shouldered a shrug. He didn't really know what to expect. And that unknowing intimidated him.
>> "This is Home Economics. My name is Mr. Turner. You can call me Mr. Turner, or Sir. This class will teach you how to feed yourself, cloth yourself, and maintain a home."
Chase glanced sideways at his neighbors, a small frown tugging at his lips. Yup, this sounded like the class that Mama wanted him to be in. Chase had been hoping for a nice teacher though-- a soft, fat grandma type perhaps. Mr. Turner looked like he could tear a phone-book in half with his bare hands.
It was at about this point that Chase locked eyes with Mr. Turner. He bashfully looked at his hands as Mr. Turner drilled the importance of his class, the purpose it would serve, on and on. Chase knew his eyes changed colors, and he knew that at this moment they were probably swimming through the worried/anxious hues of orange, yellow-orange and yellow. He was afraid that if he looked in Mr. Turner's eyes, Mr. Turner would know that the twelve-year-old thought he could rip phone-books with his bare hands.
>> "Today is a pre-test of sorts. You will be cooking a side dish, an entree, and a dessert. Once cooked you will set a formal dining placement and be allowed to eat, afterward you will clean the kitchens and dishes and put them up. Finally i will show you how to do a bit if upkeep in the kitchen."
Chase swallowed hard, feeling anxious. Weren't they in here to learn how to cook? That's what he was supposed to teach them... why were they cooking on day one, if they hadn't learned anything yet?
>> "There are three fundamentals of cooking. One, you must follow directions. The recipe is the law, at least until you get good enough. Two, you must be able to multitask. Multiple things will be baking, cooking, and popping and you need to focus on all of them. Three, don't be an idiot."
Chase kept looking at his hands. Follow the rules, do a whole bunch of things at once, don't be an idiot. How could you be smart about something you knew nothing about?
>> "If you can do all of those you will be fine. Most people have trouble with the third. Now non perishables are in the cart, meat and dairy is in the fridges. Don't use work stations 13 or 14."
The eleven year old could feel his ears growing warm, a restless spasm had grown in his leg. He bounced his foot. How could you be smart about something you knew nothing about?
>> "Any questions?"
Chase rose his hand.
>> "Good. Begin now."
Chase lowered his hand. He was younger than most of the students and, as such, was wondering if... maybe.. they got to work in pairs? Or did they have to work independently? He cast a glance at Amber, and then hoisted himself from his chair. Shyly, he made his way towards Mr. Turner, the anxious orange of his eyes virulent now.
"Mr. Turner, sir," Chase asked, his eyes pulling towards Mr. Turner's face. He looked at his teacher's nose, rather than his eyes. Eye contact was too stressful, "Are we doing this independently? Or is it okay to work in pairs? It's just, uh, I'm twelve. A-and I don't know a whole lot so, um... it might help... to, uh, have someone older help me? Please?"
Posted by Chase Taylor on May 16, 2017 18:32:41 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
>> "I... I can't. I'm sorry. I can't leave the mirrors."
Seven frowned at that, balling and un-balling his fists, clenching his teeth. How could a way out be so close, and yet so far. He couldn't lift his gaze, and he couldn't bring himself to put his hand back up to the glass. He looked down in the sink, the expression on his face fallen.
>> "But I can find another way, to get you out... You'll need to help me do it, though. Can you tell me what this place is?"
The child shook his head.
"How would I know?" he mumbled, lifting his gaze once more, "It's not the place I'm usually kept. But it has to be SUPER, because they're keeping me here. And the guard in the hall looks the same."
His gaze dropped again. His eyes were blurring, which meant that tears were probably welling-up. This is what happened when he reverted forms. He cried over stupid things. He cried period. It would be different once they reprogrammed him. Once they reprogrammed him, he wouldn't see people in mirrors that probably weren't even there. Once they reprogrammed him, he'd only cry if he was told to...
"I can tell you what they do inside the place I'm normally kept, though," Seven offered. What did it matter? They probably weren't really here anyways...
Posted by Chase Taylor on May 16, 2017 18:15:33 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
Among the students that filtered-in was the dark-haired human-shifter, head-and-shoulders shorter than most of the attendees. Of course, he could always try and look taller, but too much effort went into free-form shifts, beyond his usual "human" form. The Latino-looking boy took a seat at the table with dark-eyed, pale-skinned young woman, clambering into an open chair.
Cooking class had been Mama's idea. She insisted that it was beneficial for young ladies and young men to learn how to cook, because everyone benefited from learning life-skills. It wasn't a suggestion. It was a demand.
It was thus that Chase found himself sitting in a chair that was too big for him, feet dangling uselessly. He'd brought his backpack, just in case, and a wide-ruled notebook.
"Um... I-I'm Chase," the child greeted the dark-eyed girl, the sleeves of his sweater balled over his clenched fists. While outside of class he idolized the big kids, inside of a class they were scary. A big kids' class... this girl seemed about Chase's size, though, so she seemed safe, "Wh-what's your n-?"
>> "Quiet down! Time to learn."
Chase tensed, his eyes pulling towards the front of the room. That guys was huge. He looked like he threw bags of flour for fun. Probably the teacher. The twelve-year-old shrank in his chair, eyes owlish.
"Mirage," the child echoed. That was not a designation he was expecting. She was not a SUPER. The child's eyes pinched slightly, scrutinizing the woman in the mirror. He was relieved, hopeful, scared, and curious, and each of these emotions flickered through his eyes.
>> "I'm a mutant. My powers allow me to live in the mirror world. Why are you in there?"
"Mirage, are you from the outside?" Seven breathed, pressing his hand flat against the mirror, against Mirage's hand, his brow stitching. It wasn't safe here, not for her. His expression was forlorn. He thinned his lips, gaze cutting towards the door.
"I... I'm from the inside," Seven murmured, rubbing his head, "I'm not allowed to stay outside when a mission lasts more than a day. Most Delta's aren't."
He surveyed Mirage carefully, "Can you... take other people in the mirror world?"
They all sounded like a jumble of words, to him. He liked the "-ay" sounding names. Jacob... Taylor... Chase... the boy sighed.
"J... Jay? Jace?" the child tried. It wasn't really a name that Alex had recommended, but the boy liked Jacob and Chase, so he smushed them together. Was that even a real name? The boy closed his eyes, as if mulling the choice over, but the exhaustion was quickly settling in. All the poking and prodding and dragging the child around, and he just wanted to sleep. He was finally in a space that felt safe enough to sleep. He began to nod off, surrendering the decision to the older boy, until he all but nodded-off.
=====
Of course, the stay in the cell was brief. Time wore on and curiosity got the better of the two boys—Alex wanted to know why Jace heard his voice and, likewise, Jace was curious as to what happened next. The older boy surrendered his shirt for the experiment, and after a brief shift, two copies of Alex were sitting in the cell.
The SUPER’s were ecstatic.
He’d make a fine addition to the Delta ranks, presuming that they could train and condition him. Jace was wrenched away from his newfound protector, once again roughly hauled out of the room.
Days turned to weeks turned to months, before the boys would see each other again. Delta 7 was only a husk of the child they’d hauled in, his hair shaved even shorter, his face hard. Months of abuse, of brainwashing, of reprogramming and training, had changed him. He was a success, a tremendous success, and would be ready for his first mission in only a few months more.
A security officer led the boy down the hall. Delta 7 moved obediently behind him, wrists bound behind his back by hinged handcuffs. The door to a cell that should have otherwise been familiar was popped open, and the child stepped inside. The door was then snapped shut behind him, leaving a confused human-shifter in a cell with a larger boy.
Delta 7 kept his back to the door. His gaze trained on the larger boy, without a single flicker of recognition.
Posted by Chase Taylor on May 13, 2017 11:15:54 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
Unlike the other people around the playground, Chase was undeterred by the mutant’s presence. What a cool mutation. He halted in his slow advance across the playground—what if they left before he had the chance to tell the glittering mutant how cool his mutation was?! Chase leapt off of the side-rail and charged up the steps moments after the boy and girl charged past him. Chase clambered into the tower before the slide, and hastily pushed himself forward. Down he went, spiraling faster down the chute, until he was at the mouth of the slide, facing the enormous mutant and the two children. He was laying on the ground, now, and the other kids held their swords victoriously above their heads.
“H-hi!” Chase greeted. Suddenly aware that he hadn’t really planned what he’d say once he approached the two other kids and the enormous mutant. He just… wanted to say hi? “I’m Chase. What’cha playing?”
Regardless of the answer, the follow-up response was, “Can I play with you, too?”
Posted by Chase Taylor on May 13, 2017 11:14:00 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
>> "Over here."
Delta 7’s attention snapped towards the toilet. There was no denying it, he’d heard a voice. He edged forward, to where he could see the polished, stainless steel mirror. Someone was there, waving at him. The boy dropped his fists, looking behind him, looking around. There was definitely someone there, but there was no one in here. Just him. Intrigued, the child shuffled across the room, closer to the mirror.
>> "Hey. What's your name?"
“My name?” he echoed. Sometimes, he was given names for missions—but since he’d failed the mission, he’d forgotten his assigned-name. His designation, however… “Delta Seven. Or just Seven.”
Delta 7’s gaze flickered over the person in the mirror, checking over his shoulder once again to see if they were there. Nope. He wasn’t supposed to ask questions. Only answer them. What if this person was a SUPER, and then he’d get in trouble for insubordination? The last thing Delta 7 wanted was to incur more punishment—he was already in-trouble for delaying the mission, as it was.
“Wh-who are you?” Delta 7 replied, “Do you have a designation?”
Maybe they were a newer Delta? Delta 7 lightly poked at the cool surface of the mirror, as if to nudge the person in their shoulder.
“Why are you in there?”
Delta 7 was altogether too calm for a hostage. He knew his position. This was his life. If anything, he was curious about the person who was in his cell, but also wasn’t. The black fear bled out of his irises, giving way to the swirling yellow-orange of confusion and teal curiosity.
Posted by Chase Taylor on May 12, 2017 18:12:49 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
It was a hiss of sound-- a voice, barely a murmur. But, in the impenetrable silence of the cell, it was undeniable. Delta 7, who was sinking back into a seating position, tensed at the sound. Was it the guard? There was no protocol against standing by the door.
The child crouched in the corner, ready to spring-- and saw... nothing. Delta 7's gaze swept over the room. Door was locked. There was no guard. Slowly, Delta 7 rose, keeping his shoulder to the wall. He walked silently, his eyes trained-on the door. His irises had turned black with tension and fear.
His stance was one of someone with training in hand-to-hand combat, of one ready to lunge. He had the element of surprise working to his advantage-- no one expected a child to know advanced martial arts.
"Who's there?" he rasped. His voice was harsh from disuse. The Kappa operative he'd been given to was not a kind one-- they barked orders and expected Seven to hold their tongue, do as he was told. The child remained on the balls of his feet, ready to spring.
(ooc: Happens concurrently to thesetwo X-Mission Threads.)
Delta 7 sat in the corner of the holding cell, knees to his chess, arms constricted around his legs. Nighttime. The lights were always browned-out and there were fewer agents at nighttime. Presently he occupied the far corner of his cell, where he could watch the door from a safe distance.
He'd been assigned to a Kappa agent he hadn't met before, for a high-stakes bag-and-tag. Delta 7 was helping with tracking, but there'd been complications... it took longer than it was supposed to. He'd reverted forms. His mind was wiped clean.
They would try again tomorrow. He was taken to the nearest facility, just outside of the booming metropolis of New York, and put in a nondescript underground area that was adjacent to the main laboratory. Where Delta 7 was being held was more secure than the laboratory, enclosed in at least a solid foot of steel and behind numerous doors only operable by card-key access.
Delta 7 roused himself from the corner, padding to past the metal sink/toilet combo on his way to the door. Along the way, anyone else might have side-eyed themselves in the 11 x 17" polished, stainless steel mirror that hung on the wall, but Delta 7 had no such interests. He wanted to see if there were guards.
Almost imperceptibly, he leaned towards the window, eyes sweeping the hall. There was one. No designation. Not an agent. Probably on a contract. He leaned the other way. Security camera. He padded back across the room and, like a defeated apex predator in a zoo, he made the return to his corner of the cell.
Posted by Chase Taylor on May 5, 2017 19:52:13 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
Chase carefully ascended the stairs, and made his way to the bridge. The rails were different here-- closer together and harder to stick your feet through-- he'd have to be more careful, now. The child sidestepped carefully across the bridge, a couple of children with wooden swords roaring past him. They were smaller than Chase, probably younger, and they were hollering something about defending the castle. A boy led the charge, and a smaller girl followed suit. They made the bridge shake, and so Chase stopped his progress, clinging to the rails as he waited for the tremors to stop.
It was then that he spotted a rather large mutant scouring around the playground.
"Whoa!!" Chase shouted appreciatively. That guy was huge! How cool! Flickers of pink curiosity began to weave their way through the child's eyes, though the cheerful aquamarine did not subsist. Not only was the guy enormous, but he was also glowing. That was twice as cool.
"The dragon!!" the other boy, pointing their swords. They were now at the top of the tower. Chase was still steadily making his way across the bridge, his tongue poking out in concentration. In the Mansion, mutants were usually really cool about Chase's enthusiasm. They knew him, knew he was a shapeshifter, and embraced his admiration. Out in public, though, it wasn't really all that polite.
Chase finally reached the other side, clinging to a fat beam as he surveyed his route to the tower. Climbing up the stairs would be difficult. And going down the slide would also be difficult, because those two smaller boys were in the way.
Chase stopped to watch the large, scintillating mutant once more, his eyes owlish with intrigue.
Posted by Chase Taylor on May 5, 2017 17:10:30 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
>> "Alright, let's get outa this $#%&hole, huh? C'mon. Weather's great."
Delta 7 brusquely moved forward, keeping a clipped pace he proceeded from processing towards the exit. He made no indication of even seeing the people they passed.
Within the building, the temperature was kept the same at all times, a brisk 68*F. It was different outside. The sky could be different colors, the air could be different temperatures. It puzzled Delta 7, who spent a majority of their known life indoors. He always looked towards the "sky" when they went outside. Today the sky was the color of brushed metal, and the air was hot like the numbing poulstice that technicians put on your skin before they drew blood.
>> "Alright you little @#$^, get in the car. Just had it cleaned, so don't go looking for people to be, alright?"
Delta 7 nodded his head once, clambering up into the large, black vehicle. He planted himself in the passenger seat, and buckled the seatbelt.
Clean was an understatement. Sterilized was more apt. Just like the lab equipment that Seven was uncomfortably familiar with, there wasn't the faintest whisper of genetic information.
>> "You know the rules. Get in. Don't speak unless spoken to. Don't move too quickly, and don't do anything that will make me have to kill you. I ain't above offin a kid, but it ain't on the top of my to do list."
Delta 7's mouth formed a hard line. The fact that he was not dead, yet, was testament to his own utility. He had required reprogramming a number of times (unbeknownst to him), but had never warranted decommissioning. He was too much of an asset. A manhunt that might take weeks of investigation only took a few hours with Delta 7's abilities. If he went against his programming, for whatever reason, tranquilizing was the usual preferrred method.
Delta 7 wondered what might warrant being "offed".
>> "$#%^, I didn't eat breakfast. You hungry? I'm #@%$ing starving."
The car started before pulling away from the building. They gained speed, passing the guard gate with a wave. Delta 7 waited until they were clear of the gate to reach into his pocket and fish the chocolate bar out. He assumed the question meant he had permission to eat the proffered candy. You didn't waste your time with eating treats. You might lose the opportunity to eat it.
Nimble fingers tore a split in the Hershey's wrapper, and the child broke a row off of the bar.
In the military, you had a set amount of time to eat (and it often was not enough time to eat politely). SUPER was much in the same, for mutants who did not willingly provide their service. As such, Delta 7 eagerly scarfed-down the chocolate, his senses overpowered by the cloyingly sweet treat. He was only vaguely aware of where they were driving, and he looked up when they rounded the building. Thankfully, he had finished the chocolate bar. Delta 7 was in the process of licking his fingers clean when they rolled up to the drive-through.
>> "Wachu want?"
More food. Delta 7 looked at Delta 9 again. More food? Delta 7 didn't really have preferences when it came to fastfood, because the frequency with which he got fast food was low. Thankfully, he could read, however, and looked towards the pictures for clues.
"A... chicken nuggets... please?" Delta 7 asked carefully. He had, of course, already eaten at the facility. But there had been times where, as punishment, his feeding had become irregular-- this led Delta 7 to be opportunistic when it came to eating.
