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.
The serenity of the scene in front of him was Sylus's entertainment. The clouds were his tv, the birds and the noise of the city surrounding this green paradise was his radio. The beer and the cigar were his sustenance.
An old Dylan song played through his head as the world turned around him to the beat. Sylus puffed slowly, letting a cloud slowly grow above his hed, refusing to let it dissipate as it should. The bitter taste of hops filled his mouth as he downed another 5th of the beer.
He took a ring from his pocket and placed it on his scarred and desecrated right hand. It brought back painful, beautiful memories, and also a reinforcement of his purpose. A bolstering of his beliefs. A sad smile broke across his face, and he prayed briefly with closed eyes for all that he had lost, and all the work that was yet to be done.
Shuffling feet broke his private moment, and Sylus's eyes darted up towards the noise. This is when he noticed a two foot, green skinned humanoid with a freakin umbrella slide to a stop next to him with a pointy toothed smile on its face, and nabbed his favorite zippo, knocking over the beer in the process. The little thief zipped off towards the trees with glee in its eyes.
Red hot hate filled Sylus's mind as he leapt to his feet, putting the cigar out and stowing it for later. A perfectly good beer ruined, a relaxing moment destroyed, he turned and stared with loathsome intensity at the.....imp? leprechaun? gnome? troll? He couldn't think of a proper description, and didn't very much care.
"You freakin martian, get back here! I swear to Scora i will rip your tiny limbs off!"
He took off running, but not for long. In an instant Soot took to the air, a voluminous cloud of dark smoke rising into the trees. He flew after the tiny troublemaker. Thoughts of raging fires, and roasted martian on his mind.
"So... free booze and cheap women then? Your friend needs to have his head checked if it turns that he does find this place entertaining. It's only good for free drinks... and even those are half-assed"
The woman in black was cynical, harsh, bold, and Sylus was enjoying it more by the minute. It was nice to see that he wasn't the only one who hated being in this place. Maybe she wouldn't hate him when he burned it to the ground. He pondered the thought for the moment. She would also be a witness to his ritual., and thus a possible liability. But that was all assuming she got out alive.
A barback returned from a set of stairs behind the bar, carrying a couple of liquor bottles to replace the empties on the shelves. He noted the entryway and added that to a series of mental notes in his ever-shifting plan.
"I could point out at least a dozen places in this area better suited for good times....I won't though... I'm far too selfish for sharing."
She stuck to her loner display. Exuding confidence, independence, and an air of mystery with her words. This all seemed to Sylus to be a constructed defense that reminded him of every person who has ever lived on the street. When you lived day to day, fighting for everything you earned, you tended to play your cards cose to the chest. Even more so you played your emotions the same way. Never let the predators see your weakness.
As for her dozen places that were more fun than this trendy, but annoying bar, Sylus was not surprised. A musical concert that was composed, sung, and orchestrated by 5 year olds would probably be more enjoyable if not for the abundance of alcohol.
"Too selfish huh?" He looked her in the eye. "That seems far too naive for you. Its a tougb world to live in without any help..... no matter how scary you can be or powerful you are." Sylus sighed and finished his beer.
"And when it comes to the fun i plan on havin tonight, it has little to do with women. I haven't played that game in years...... Though the booze you would have right. Free drinks, good food, and an even better cigar would be a good day in my book.........Im Sylus." He said without a handshake or formal gesture.
He ordered one more round for himself and sipped at it slowly. Sylus was not sure if her loner facade would let her tell him her name. He was also not sure he cared. After all, at the end of the night she was most likely to be nothing more than an obituary in the paper, a tally mark on his page, a sacrifice to Scora.
"I'd take his advice, Buddy... Before something terrible happens to you."
It appears the woman had more than a little fight to her. Sylus noted that her aim was right on target, hitting the man with what would have been a crippling shot, if she hadn't pulled her punch. Instead the drunk landed flat on his ass and proceeded to grumble and complain about his condition. One of his probable frat brothers helped him to his feet. They both left in a hurry, the injured one muttering something about coming back to "shove his fists down their collective throats."
Sylus grunted, giving the simple gesture a tone of being impressed with the woman's charisma. The action being currently over, he set himself down at the bar once again. The whole scene took less than five minutes, which fit into his plans nicely. Even better, he only lost a couple of sacrifices by keeping the chaos to a minimum. Even though he enjoyed the alternative, this time it was better not to fight. Sylus ordered a beer, no need to be too hazy when the festivities started. The first swig bubbled and the bitter taste of hops filled his throat. He listened as the song changed again to something less mind numbingly loud.
The woman settled back down into her bar stool and sipped her drink.
"...I didn't need your help, you know."
She remarked with more than a little defensive undertone to it. He laughed with a whole new view of the lady he had settled down next to.
"Yeah i figured that out pretty quick. But you got it anyway."
He stared down at his drink and took another swig. It was a rhetorical comment. Sylus had always viewed the past as the past, there was little you could do about it without divine influence.
"... aren't you a little old for an establishment like this anyway?"
He almost choked on his beer. She had hit the nail right on the head. He took a longer swig from his beer to cover up his thought process as he put together a quick, convincing lie.
"You'd be right about that. Makes me feel ancient just sitting here. But i know the owner of this place, He's a good friend of mine and was suppposed to show me a good time in NYC. Better not be in this annoying hellhole."
It wasn't exactly dark out yet, mostly just shady. The sun sent occasional beams of light through the trees of Central Park as it traced its usual trail across the sky. In an hour or so the sky would begin to turn orange, a sign that twilight was soon to come.
Sylus Kade strode down a lonesome path, enjoying the fresh air and the taste of beer from the tallboy in his hand. Tonight had no work to be done, nothing to distract him from the beauty of the moment. Birds chirped, small creatures moved through the brush, occasionally snapping twigs in the process.
There was a bench nearby, but Sylus opted for the ground and the trunk of a tall oak. Leaning his back against the tree and sliding his way down, he breathed in the warm wind blowing through the trees. It was his favorite time of the day, and this was the perfect place to enjoy his favorite pasttime.
He pulled a cigar from the tube in his pocket. Smelling it briefly, he smiled. It had been awhile since he had enjoyed a good cigar, but a recent theft had allowed him the luxury of not only that, but a decent beer as well. Sylus stuck the stogie between his lips and pulled out his old zippo. It glinted in the rays of sunlight as he flicked it open, sparked it, and puffed. The bright orange tip burned slowly. As smoke lilted upon his tongue, a smooth taste filled his mouth.
"There's nothing like a good smoke." Sylus said to the air, letting the smoke drift from his mouth. He set the zippo down to his right on the grass, and breathed deep again. He blew smoke rings, stars, squares, skulls, anything that came to mind. The beer mixed well with the cigar, leaving a pleasant tingle on his tastebuds. This too, he set to his right.
Sylus sat and stared at a quieter world, unaware and uncaring of anything but this moment.
Her reply did not exactly surprise him, the habit was getting less and less common nowadays. Nor did her remark about her having been a thief. Though if she had lived a life of poverty, why worry so much about her lungs.
"If you have lived on the street then you should know that there are morre pertinent things that may damage our lungs or our body than a little smoke." He put no violence or anger into the remark, his posture remained calm and confident.
Sylus did not believe in unnecessary violence, it would only distract him from the two things that mattered to him anymore: his duties to Scora amd his own survival. However, leaving someone around to post his pictures around NYC would not help his situation.
He took a long drag and blew it out in another smoke ring.
"I think we both know that there is only one question that matters here. Why did you follow me and what do you plan to do about it?"
The cigar was cheap by Sylus's standards, but still he took pleasure in the way the smoke tasted upon his tongue. With each exhale, a cloud grew above his head, which swirled and moved of its own accord. It refused to disperse into the air, and after a while it seemed to shadow the area around him. After a few puffs, the adrenaline began to lose its edge.
The cursing of the gas station owner was still quite audible from the apartment. However it did little to hide the clang of something hard hitting the fire escape, or the soft thud of a visitor upon this desolate rooftop.
In hopes to prevent identification, Sylus faced away from this potential pursuer. Wisps of smoke from the cloud fell occasionally as it danced above him, obscuring his features at times.
"That was impressive." A female voice remarked with a casual air. As if they had met on the abandoned rooftop for coffee.
The area underneath the cloud brightened slightly as he inhaled, the tip of the lit cigar giving off a dull orange light. He breathed out and caught the smoke as if it was a ball, it hovered an inch above his burnt palm.
"Ha! I dont suppose you meant my utter lack of stealth, or maybe my poor choice in a target for robbery." He chuckled to himself.
There was little reason to deny the proceedings at the gas station. If she had followed him up here then she was a witness. The only thing that mattered was her next move.
He gestured to the air in front of him with the cigar. "I don't assume you smoke."
Now that he was in NYC there was much to do. Not only places to burn but also a living to be maintained. The current priority was food.
Most of Sylus's funds had been spent on gas during the trip from Arizona.....not all of it being used for the car. His stomach rumbled as he counted the change in his pocket.
"Scora may watch over me, but apparently not my pocketbook." Sylus said with a weary look as his possiblity for legal sustenation crumbled beneath the weight of his poverty. The situation was not new to him, he had abandoned any semblance of a real job years ago. He could steal food or money, it was easy when locked doors meant nothing to you.
Stealing money or sellable goods did not solve his immediate hunger, so Soot hit the skies, searching for a place to take what he needed. He soared over the streets, blending in with the dark night sky.
Gliding swiftly past a three story apartment whose windows were boarded across the first floor and broken from there on up. The large smoke cloud settled upon the sidewalk just down the street from a gas station that looked as if it had survived little better than the apartments. At least it was still open for business.
The warm, gentle wind blowing down the street felt great on Sylus's skin. It reminded him of his home. Yet as it brushed across his fingertips, it reminded him more of what he had lost, for they felt nothing. He flexed his horrilby scarred hands and brushed the dirt off his clothing. Living on the run had left him looking like he belonged in this rundown area of NYC. The holes in his shorts, and the stains on his t-shirt came partly from extended and brutal use, but mostly they came from his pasttime. They remained as visible testaments to his holy work.
He strode into the store, noting a couple of other customers, and began to search the shelves for anything he could easily fit into his pockets. His hand darted into the stocks whenever he thought the cashier was not looking, and after roaming for a couple of minutes, a customer approached the counter. The man asked for a pack of ciggarettes and held a case of beer.
When the woman behind the counter turned around to grab the ciggarettes, Sylus grabbed a tall bottle of beer and headed for the door. With his foot on the threshold of the store, he heard the lady exclaim, in a loud yell. " Stop! Thief! Harold come out here!"
Sylus's feet hit pavement as he looked briefly over his shoulder and saw an older gentleman lift a handgun into firing position. The first shot whistled past Soot's ear, and as a second was aimed for his center of mass, He changed. The bullet ran through a smoke sillhouette at the shoulder, and with a brief wave at the owner, it floated off into the sky.
Sylus stopped at the edge of the apartment building that was facing away from the station, and as he returned to solid form, a smile touched his face. The adrenaline rushed through his limbs as he breathed in the night air, pulled a cigar from his pocket, cut it, and slowly puffed it into life.
He exhaled in a perfect smoke ring, and spoke to the night air. "Wow, next time, choose a gas station that doesn't look like it gets robbed every other weekend, Sylus."
"Hey babe, why don't you ditch the burn victim and hang out with a man who's cool as ice?"
Sylus downed the rest of his drink in a single swig. He laguhed quietly to himself at the irony. Perhaps even more so at the man's ridiculous attempt at starting a conversation with the woman to his left.
'has dating changed so much in the last couple of years that this idiot is at the top of the social food chain?' He thought to himself, not wanting to blow his cover in the bar.
The tension in the air around the lady was palpable. An unpleasant grimace seemed to cross her face at the futile attempts of a man who was now giving a display of what is commonly referred to as "the gun show." After less than a minute she had dismissed him with a quick.
"Go away."
This did little to turn away a frater on a mission. Sylus, wanting to stay out of the situation but not being able to qualm his old chivalrous nature, felt his anger grow with each narcissistic comment and gesture that the man made. The sheer stupidity that flowed from the pores of this drunken soon-to-be college dropout was tremendous. Even worse, the woman seemed to be on the verge of violence, and apparently no amount of vehemence or loathing that was placed into a quickly snapped threat could penetrate such a thick head.
The alcohol flowing through the room did not help the situation at all. Luckily for Sylus, his best option was also in line with his emotions. Time to control the situation before any authorities were involved.
"Learn the lesson and walk away, boy, cuz if i don't break you myself, im pretty sure She will." he snarled with a gesture to the lady in black. He stood and centered his balance looking like the peak of calm confidence. That twinkle of madness touched his eyes once again as he stared down the young king of the campus.
The man's reaction was just what was to be expected of a drunken fool. Belligerent, defensive, and with no regards to sensible thought.
"Oh please, old man. Do you have any idea who i am bro?!? Do you even know where you are?" He exclaimed with just the barest hint of a slur on his words.
"Yeah.... your my favorite kind of opponent, big drunk and stupid, and currently im standing about 3 feet from where the paramedics will find your body."
The first swing came suddenly from the mans left arm,with the half empty beer bottle in his hand. Sylus was expecting it and swung his right forearm up in a deflecting block, and with his left arm he slammed a palm into the man's chest, making him stumble back and away from close quarters. The man was livid, stubborn, and more than ready to turn this into an all out brawl.
"Walk away, have another drink, but i wont be responsible for what happens if you continue."
Sylus stood at the back of the bar, next to some foul smelling bathrooms. He was shut away from the main crowd down a small hallway. Unfortunately, to reach his destination, he would have to move not only through the throng of drunken fraters and occasional drinkers, he would also have to move past the employees. And while Sylus could eaasily glide past the room, the sight of a self moving cloud of smoke may frighten the potential sacrificial victims from their soon to be resting place.
This would require planning and maybe a little sleight of hand. Grinning as he planned his route, Sylus grabbed some fresh rags from a nearby storage closet. Stuffing them in his pocket, he strode into the crowd as if he belonged. His casual cargo shorts and black t shirt blended in nicely. He moved toward the front and strode casually up to a bar stool next to a rather sour looking female dressed in black. His scorched right hand hit the smooth wood of the barfront with a bill stuffed in it. The dragon of his tattoo seemed poised to breath over the wood and money under his hand.
A young man behind the bar walked over soon enough. Sylus used the time not only to order his drink but to note the uniform of the bar. Simple black company t-shirt and baseball cap. Thoughts ran by as an improvisation played through his head. "Ill take a scotch, strongest you have." The man served him his drink, and was payed with a tip.
He sipped the drink, which of course burned on the way down just like the whole establishment was about to. Sylus sighed and settled down at the bar, noting entrances and exits. Keeping an eye on where the barbacks went didnt keep him from eyeing the people around him as well. He even noted the beauty of the women around him, for although he stilled ached after the departure of his long dead fiance, such things do not stop ones carnal needs. It was not his main objective, but Sylus was still a man, and an observant one at that. He could still enjoy the beauty of creation, before it was destroyed once again.
If there was ever a place to get lost in this world, it was New York City. Sylus lounged in the driver's seat of a stolen mazda tribute, its Arizona license plate having been replaced in the same parking garage that he was now parked at the top of. He smiled, grabbing a small notebook from his glove compartment and leafing through it until he reached the last page, he quickly looked over a series of tally marks.
"27 is just not enough. I need a big blaze to fuel Scora's flames."
Each of these tally marks was a person, burned to death in their own bed. For Sylus, they were just another soul for his great god. For the Phoenix Police Department and probably a couple of FBI agents, these were the victims of a mass arsonist whom they had been hunting down for 2 years now. It was only recently that they got an eyewitness description of the man.
This had brought Soot out of his comfort zone in the desert of Arizona, to the crowded streets of New York City. Here he could burn more, and hopefully finally sate his God's need for fuel. He stepped out of the vehicle, locking it behind him. With a brief thought, a half-smoked cigar hit the ground, and a large cloud of smoke flew over the city, combing the streets for a site to burn to the ground.
It eventually settled at the back door of a busy bar. A popular spot for the youth of NYC, it would not be a place where they would just let Sylus in. But no matter, slipping under the door in a hazy fashion, a man materialized out of thin smoke. The scars on his hands made them look gross and unusable, and the twinkle in his eye was unmistakable.
It was a twinkle of madness, and Soot enjoyed the feel in the air, if not the music. His lighter flicked on and off in anticipation of what was to come. Looking to the sky he breathed a small prayer.
"This is for you, he who tends the forge of life. I give you destruction as my sacrifice, Great God Scora.
Hey i am looking for an avatar amd signature for Soot. I am willing to look at any submissions so if anyone wants to try it out go for it.
Soot is a mutant arsonist who can turn into a cloud of smoke and control smoke. He is also a religious zealot who worships a fire god name Scora.
For my faceclaim i have chosen fredric lehne from supernatural. (he played azazel aka yellow eyes)
Specifics: any combination of the following: smoke, fire, lighter, matches, Soot, Sylus Ivander Kade, "destruction breeds creation", june 17 2010 or 6/17/2010, "In a housefire its the smoke that kills you"
Character's full name: Sylus Ivander Kade Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Soot Gender: Male Age: 37 Date of Birth: June 30, 1973 Nationality/ Ethnicity: Caucasian Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Chandler, Arizona Current Dwelling: The back of a stolen 2003 Mazda Tribute
Appearance
Hair color and style: Short black hair Eyes: Grey Height: 5’ 11” Weight: 193 lbs Build: Medium build Visible mutation: none Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: burn scars on both hands (more on palms than the tops), Tattoo of medieval dragon winding down and around right arm ends with open mouth right above burn scars. Left wrist has tattoo of blazing bonfire with smoke rising up and around arm. Last tattoo across upper back and shoulders of a date written in embers surrounded in smoke. 6/ 17/2010 Other Features: N/A
Everyday clothing style: Khaki cargo shorts with ashes stained on them. Black tennis shoes . Variety of t shirts. Uniform: not yet affiliated so no uniform. Sleepwear: Black pajama pants. T shirt Miscellaneous clothing. Silver ring on right ring finger. Variety of lighters and matches on his person.
Character
Personality: Casual and sarcastic during everyday life. When speaking about religion and during his ritual arsons he is fanatic and bold. Hobbies/ Interests: Arson. Smoking cigars. Card games. Burning ants with a magnifying glass. Driving. Job or part time job and description: Arsonist. Done the old fashion way: gasoline and matches. Religious zealot Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Afraid of divine retribution from his god Scora who tends the forge of life. Special talents: Breaking and entering. shrapnel and incendiary explosive making, Did HS and College wrestling plus a small stint of aikido training. Good at card games: especially euchre.
Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Would be seen by the outside world as evil or sadistic. Considers himself the agent of an ancient god of fire.
Mutations
Mutation description:: Can turn into a cloud of smoke at will. This cloud is equal in proportion to the mass of his body. Can only sustain this form for 5 to 8 min. The longer he stays as a cloud the more it will tax him mentally. This exhaustion comes physically when he returns to a solid form. Soot also converts anything that is on his person into smoke as well. Thus his clothing, keys, matches and lighters all stay with him when he goes into smoke form. This does not apply to any other living creature or anything bigger than a baseball bat. Note: Soot cannot create smoke beyond the mass of his own body. He also cannot create smoke at all in solid form.
Strengths: Makes him hard to hit or capture. Weaknesses: no offense in smoke form just lots of evasion and escape routes.
Secondary mutation description: Can control the movement of smoke around him while he is in both solid and gaseous form. This allows him a form of flight when he puffs into smoke and allows for the smoke to make a human sillhouette.
Strengths: allows for a form of flight.. Can make interesting smoke rings and shapes when he smokes cigars. Weaknesses: no offensive capabilities
Fighting Style
Explanation: Grapple and control the situation. Use leverage and opponent against himself in the form of throws and painful holds. If all else fails Soot carries a can of spray deodorant on him at all times so he can use it and a lighter as a makeshift flamethrower. Plan B is to burn the enemy and the area around him, then rise away with the rest of the smoke.
Pros for fighting style: Good at close quarters combat. Mutant ability makes him naturally hard to hit.
Cons for fighting style: No long range capabilities unless he steals a gun.
Faction Allegiance Currently unaffiliated, may be convinced to join some cause or another. As long as there is plenty of opportunity to scorch people alive.
History Of Your Character: Sylus Ivander Kade was born on a hot arid day in June. In a lonely clinic in the desert in a small town of Arizona. An uncomplicated birth even given the “unsatisfactory conditions” of the clinic. His mother’s words. Her plans of a safe clean birth in a high tech hospital in a big city were ruined by the overheating of the engine in their beat up rusting truck. Perhaps it was meant to be, for the arid desert of his birth would become not only the happiest place in Sylus’s childhood, but also the terrain of his rebirth.
Sylus, or as his childhood friends called him, “Kade” loved the desert surrounding his home and school. It was perfect for tag or riding bikes. And at night the stars and moon illuminated his whole town. Revealing the wonder of the universe above him. Each night he would sneak to the top of their town house and gaze upward. Wondering what the future held. During weekends and on colder nights, Sylus would sit with his father and look to the sky. The light from his father’s home-made chimenea dancing on the walls of the stone fence surrounding their backyard. On these nights his father would tell stories and sing songs to his children.
Kade’s fascination with fire began there, around that stone chimney and it only grew. During his early teen years he was caught several times with his friends burning away small brush fires in the desert or playing with fireworks and homemade explosives. To his mother, Kade was a troublesome child until H igh School. She gave him countless lectures on the possibilities of wildfires and the danger of playing with fireworks. Beyond these she would joke around the situation calling him “her little pyro.”
When High School came around, Sylus’s pyromania did not decrease, his urges were not abated. They simply became more controlled as he became smarter. His burning went from fires and explosives to smoking. At age 17 he was smoking cigarettes at least twice a day, and played with his lighter all day, even in class. While this went unnoticed by his mother and neglected by his father, a heavy smoker, his wrestling coach would have nothing of it. He would constantly scorn Sylus about his “ugly habit” and how it would “affect his prominent career as a wrestler.” Prominent was the wrong word. Talented yet lazy would have been better. Still, no one could complain about the results. His HS career carried him into college. Where the smoking, wrestling, and pyromania continued, while mixed in with the rest of the partying, schoolwork, and womanizing that had to be done. After a short 5 years Kade graduated with a degree in construction management.
He exited college and went to Phoenix, gaining work experience and muscle as he built for a construction company. His calloused hands were leathery and rough, toned and toughened by the everyday labor. This “grunt work” as he called it. Continued for 3 more years until, with hard work and American Spirit, he had the money, influence, experience, and skill to start his own company. Things were looking up for Sylus, no more so than when he met the girl of his dreams.
She was a short woman, 5’5” or 5’4” at most. With brunette hair and a brilliant laugh. Her Irish Catholic roots showed through her gentle nature. A brilliant cook and excellent listener, Katherine was the perfect woman for Sylus. She worked part time as a substitute English teacher, and whenever she wasn’t busy, her nose was in a novel. Sylus loved this about her, and when they moved into small house together, with silver engagement rings on both their fingers, He built a small pottery chimenea. He put it right in the corner of their rock fenced backyard. So he could tell stories to her and his eventual children.
This happiness and success would not last. On June 17 2010 Sylus sat and told Katherine a story around the chiminea. He smoked a cigar and they held each other and wondered about what the future held for them as they stared at the starlit sky. She went to bed early. He let her go with a soft ”love you.” And as he stared at the stars he thought that they held no mystery for him, that he truly had no real hardships ahead of him. Sylus sat and tended the fire, and a smile touched face. All was right in his world.
Yet as we learn the hard way, life has a way of kicking you in the teeth. Sylus had left only embers in the chimenea that night. But heavy wind soon swept them out the open front and into the underbrush. Which soon caught fire, and in the arid desert that was his home, Sylus’s house started burning. On a walk, smoking a stogie, he saw the smoke at the other end of the street, the flickering, dancing light of his childhood now danced around the block, emitted by the growing blaze that now held his fiance within. His cigar hit concrete within seconds, just after the first slap of his bare feet hitting at a dead sprint. Rushing past the on looking neighbors, Sylus kicked down the front door and ran up the stairs. The light and heat around him was intense as he ran up the smoldering stairs. The fire was burning through the house rapidly, and minor flames licked his skin. He emerged into their bedroom. Pushing through the smoke and coughing his lungs out he crouched low. Looking through the smog he saw Katherine passed out and trapped under a burning support beam.
He had lifted these beams before, many times in his work. And as he grasped the flaming obstruction he lifted with all his might. He screamed as his hands burned. Still, the beam soon hit the floor. Grabbing his unconscious fiance he turned towards the door and found himself surrounded by fire. With no easy escape in sight, Sylus sank to his knees. Weeping into the hair of the woman he loved Sylus Ivander Kade watched the fire for what he thought was the last time. The crackling around him still seemed comforting Broken by the sound of sirens that were too late to save anyone. As the floor beneath him began to crumble. Sylus said I love you one last time to his wife. The floor broke, yet as she cascaded into darkness below, Kade began to rise. One with the wind, he moved beyond his own house and later collapsed in the desert. Exhausted, he cried himself to sleep.
His dreams that night had nothing but flames and smoke. It all surrounded a giant man working a forge fed by the souls of those who burned. These souls then breeded new creations. Fueling the next generation of life. This man said “ I am Scora, he who tends the forge of life. Know this my son: destruction breeds creation, and for life to resume the old must be burned away. Go when you awake, feed my forge, and all that you wish will be yours.” (Note: Scora is not a real god, he is simply a dream that Soot converts into his own religious delusions. In all likelihood he will never see or hear Scora again)
When he awoke, Sylus Ivander Kade had dry eyes. The sacrifice he went through on the worst night of his life suddenly showed a new more grand purpose. His love was gone and this loss bred a hint of madness in his grey eyes. Standing, he stared at the sun, the great fire in the sky. Vowing to light the fire for his new god, Soot stood and once again became one with the wind.
Roleplay: If you first looked at his methods, Soot would be the world’s dumbest arsonist. He began by pouring gasoline at the front door and all other entrances, Continuing by bathing the first floor room by room until he reached the stairs. He walked up the stairs at a slow pour, his shoes making a squish sound of the new wet carpet. Half high off the petroleum fumes, he would continue with the upper floors, soaking every inch of every room but the master bedroom. It was in this room that he would tie up the occupants of the home with ropes and gags. Then, singing one of the songs his father sung to him, he would splash gas in a circle around the bed, light a book of matches, and let it drop unto the waiting trail of fuel. Then he would wait with those he brought to the door of Scora’s Forge.
Tonight it was an elderly couple. They wept and screamed against the gags as they heard splashing and movement downstairs. They looked into each other’s eyes the same way that Sylus had looked down at his wife. The sharp smell of gas hit their noses as they heard footsteps on the stairs. In time with those steps came a cheery folk song about the promised land. He came into the room in khakis and a smile on his face. With no shirt on they could see the burn marks on his body and every tattoo. Soot finished his work in the bedroom and threw the empty can in a corner. Sitting at the end of the bed he sat and stared at the room around him, glancing at the couple tied up behind him. Their eyes were wide and afraid. He sighed and reached for a side pocket in his shorts. Taking out a book of matches, he lit the whole thing, watching it burn for a second. The couple screamed through the gags. He sighed and with a flick of his wrist set alight the carpet. The flame spread along the path of the fuel. It spread quickly. Surrounding the bed in flames. Once again the crackle and spit of a large fire greeted Sylus. He smiled, even though dark memories touched his thoughts. Thoughts of burned hands and the smell of scorched flesh. Of firelight dancing across every wall. Of a woman he loved, and hoped to one day see again. He spoke aloud.
“ Destruction breeds creation. You are only the next bit of fuel in the forge of life. I know you do not understand, but please, rejoice. Your souls will bring on the next generation. You have lived a life full of energy and enjoyment. Your souls will soon feed the fires of creation. Through Scora you will be reborn.”
He took out their gags. “ I give you the same mercy I was given.”
“The time to say goodbye.”
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