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 Alma Elizondo on Jul 11, 2013 14:09:09 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
“More or less,” Alma admonished, smiling drolly at Sylar’s first supposition. The dry-humored expression remained fixed upon her features as she simply dismissed the second supposition with a frank, “Not quite… I’m just a familiar face. People won’t give you as much trouble if you’ve got a chauffeur of sorts.”
Even if that chauffeur wasn’t exactly “popular” with their cohorts. Alma heard the rhetorical inquiry, but didn’t see fit to answer it. She had her theories, and for the time being, she was trying to keep her head low.
Once within the confines of the restroom, the woman allowed herself to relax. What a hectic night. Tired hazel eyes flicked towards her reflection, catching the eye of what seemed to be a mud-monster in the woman’s stead. Alma huffed and peeled the dirty clothes off of her, tossing the rancid things into the tub. Once free of her clothes, Alma toweled-down with a washcloth, relieved as she scraped off the grime. She’d clean more thoroughly later. For now, this was sufficient. The washcloth was tossed into the bathtub as well and, wrapping a towel around her, Alma began to rinse her hair out.
Finally rinsed free of the gunk, the woman changed her clothes, relaxing at the touch of dry, clean-scented clothes. Once changed, Alma sauntered back out into her bedroom
She wasn’t certain of what she’d expected Sylar to do—definitely not sit still. He had sunken low to the floor, following his nose as it led him around the small room. Was he… smelling her things?
“Find anything interesting?” Alma said lightly, using the towel to squeeze the moisture out of her hair. She patted the damp black tendrils a few times before tossing the towel onto the floor, beside her wardrobe, bare feet padding quietly against the familiar carpet.
“I haven’t done tours before so I’m not entirely sure where we should go,” Alma confessed, “Kitchen and dining…? Rec room? Library?”
She was just tossing out random proposals, seeing if any might catch the boy’s interest.
To be honest, Alma really just wanted to sleep. The night had sucked the energy out of her. And, of all things, she had now offered to show the very creature that had tried to kill her around her abode.
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Jun 20, 2013 0:52:21 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
I'm writing here as a precautionary measure--
Just yesterday, a soda exploded in my messenger bag, which was also carrying my laptop at the time. Now, while I was able to turn the laptop on long enough to copy files to an external hard-drive, I don't feel safe or comfortable turning my laptop on beyond that.
Sooo, I'm taking my baby to a mechanic to get it cleaned out, which will hopefully be a quick and easy fix. Dunno how long this will take, but until that point, my hours online will be drastically less-- I will be using my brother's laptop, and seeing as he's on the computer as much as I am... yeah, not much computer time for me until I get my baby repaired.
And, I swear to God-- if I come out of this fiasco with the same laptop, I'm getting a giant sticker that says "Lazarus^3" and sticking it smack-dab on the front of this laptop... because it's already survived a fall off of a bunk bed, and spilled soup, already. Now it has spilled soda to add to its repertoire. If it lives. ^^
This affects Gina, Chase, Alma, and Sophrosyne. <3
Peace out.
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Jun 8, 2013 13:22:19 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
Alma smiled and chuckled at Sylar’s sentiment, and shook her head imperceptibly.
“They were only reacting in my defense,” Alma assured him, glancing over at the sprites that meandered around her and him unperceived. One of the smaller ones was even clumsily attempting (and failing) to clamber onto Sy’s foot while he walked, though his arms kept ghosting through the perpetually-moving appendage, “Unless you’ve got sugary food… then they’re just nuisances…”
The boy drew his hood, remarking on how he could go around unseen if need be. The two stopped in front of the Sanctuary, and only offered the observation that it was big.
“That it is,” Alma agreed. She exchanged glances with the other mutant, lightly patting his shoulder. It was out of reflex, her inclination to reassure him.
“You will be fine,” Alma assured him, “Particularly with me accompanying you.”
Alma was only telling a half-truth, but betrayed none of this either physically or verbally—Alma had landed herself in a fair spot of trouble with the denizens of the Sanctuary. Her presence may or may not have been beneficial to the young monster’s cause. But she didn’t want to put him any more on-edge informing him of that.
“Well, let’s go, then,” Alma said, glancing both ways before striding across the street. She jogged up the stairs, and pushed open the front door, holding it open for Sylar. Lisa peered at her from the front desk, her lips forming a curious, though hardly-approving, line.
“Good morning, Alma,” she greeted, “You look like you had a… hm, wild party.”
“Had a spot of fun in the sewers,” Alma murmured, “This here is my newfound friend, Sylar. He may be interested in residing here, but he wanted to check the place out. I'm going to give him a grand tour after I change.”
“Don’t get any of that filth on the carpet,” Lisa sighed, returning to a puzzle book that was splayed open on the counter. Alma nodded and gestured to Sylar, leading him towards the residential hall. As she meandered in that direction, one of the Abyssi came sauntering down the hall, clad only in athletic shorts. On his chest, the mark of ♀. He was head-and-shoulders above the young woman, and though she was caked with gunk, Venus cast her a smile.
Alma nodded to the red behemoth and continued into the hall, making sure that Sylar was still with her.
“This is the residence hall… everyone lives here, has their own room and bathroom,” Alma explained, “I’m stopping here so that I change clothes and wipe down really fast, but I should be finished in a few minutes. Then, we can continue.”
Alma pulled out a key as she stopped in front of her door, unlatching it and stepping inside.
“Welcome, to my humbled abode,” Alma said with a smile, “Sit wherever, I’ll be done in a heartbeat.”
Slender fingers retrieved a t-shirt and shorts, and fresh undergarments for each respective half. Alma deposited the fresh clothes inside on the bathroom counter. Alma slid off her boots, and as she closed the door, assured the young boy, “No more than five minutes.”
With that, the door clicked shut. Leaving the sewer monster, and the bodachs, free to roam in the room.
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Jun 4, 2013 12:27:50 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
Alma listened while Locke spoke, half of her attention lingering on the professor. He was making a steady progress on the syllabus, having now moved onto discussing the texts for the course. She glanced back at the boy beside her, tilting her head. The hair-twirling slowed to a subconscious stop. The class, as a whole, turned to the next page of the syllabus, and Alma followed along. As if she was actually paying attention. Locke made known his preferences for soda.
“You say that like you’re going to win,” this earned him another impish grin, “But I am determined to defeat you.”
The fussing with the hair wasn’t so much a conscious sign of boredom, but a subconscious thing that her hands began to do when she wasn’t taking notes. Even if her mind was preoccupied with conversation, her hands had nothing to do.
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Jun 4, 2013 12:16:08 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
A small smile curled at the corners of Almas’ lips while Sylar spoke. He spoke of spooking those who got too close… using his appearance to keep people at a distance.
“Trust me… most people catch a glance of my spirits and run in the opposite direction,” Alma said softly, lest someone be listening to their hushed conversation, “Nothing like a disembodied shadowy figure to make grown men whimper like little girls.”
Sylar walked bipedally now, a certain, human ease in his gait. His response to Alma’s caution was met with a reply that was nothing short of a teenager’s peevish quip. A laugh escaped Alma, one that seemed too loud, for the situation. Alma quickly squelched any further chuckles by covering her mouth, and shook her head.
“The dangerous ones won’t be afraid of you,” Alma murmured, “I can assure you of that. I'm more concerned with you pissing them off... or letting your curiosity get you into trouble.”
Alma tapped her nose with her index finger. She was, of course, speaking from personal experience. The dark-haired woman came to a halt, facing the street. Their walk had transpired quickly, since the two have them had each other’s company to occupy a time that Alma had previously spent wandering solo. The bodachs gathered behind her, murmuring as she halted. Alma was facing a cathedral, or so it outwardly seemed, her hands upon her hips. It was a tall, dark gash in the cool light of the weaning hours of the night.
“There she is,” Alma murmured, “Across the street is the Sanctuary.”
She paused, looking up and down the street to check for traffic. Seeing that there wasn’t any, she looked towards her cohort, who was beside her.
“…would you like to go in?” Alma inquired, “Sometimes it helps to have a current resident accompany you.”
Whether she had said that she’d just show him where it is, or not, it was worth making the offer. He’d followed her so far, anyways.
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Jun 3, 2013 21:20:09 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
We shall definitely finish our threads. :3 For future reference though, who would you be interested in? XD Alma or Gina (...or Chase? Even though he hasn't had a thread with ya.)
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Jun 2, 2013 23:10:49 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
So, I lost the old thread that I made requests in, so rather than rummage about for 'm, I decided to start anew.
I realize that I have a few threads in which I have (for a very long time) neglected to reply in. I am very sorry, dearies-- I shall respond as hastily as I can. On the other hand, many of my threads have died. As such, I'm currently advertising all three of my characters for threading purposes. Following this will be descriptions of where I will have my characters at for the time being.
Gina: I will say that, at this point in-time, her nocturnal senses have balanced out, and she has some use of echolocation. That being said, she will probably be venturing outside of the Mansion a little more freely (though with a friend, more than likely, given the recent Riot events). She will also probably be expressing an interest in the X-trainees. This does not mean that she will end-up in the X-Men. In fact, it is my intent for her to go slightly rogue, to the point that, by the end of her senior year, she may be (politely) asked not to return to the Institute... that's a year away now, though. Gina is a seventeen-year-old who is just ending her junior year at Xavier's. She is still a rather sweet, kind-hearted lady, but after the beatdown from the cops that began the riot, she's been slightly more jaded and a little less trusting in others (who look human, that is-- she still trusts and likes the outwardly mutated a lot...) Profile is here!
Chase: Ten-year-old adoptive son of Gemma Cervantes. I don't have much in the works for him. He's brutally honest and a little bit shy. Don't let his age deter you! I can find ways to get him out in the city for a good thread. He has a knack for letting his curiosity get him into trouble. He lives at the Mansion. Profile is here!
Alma: A young, attractive woman who is twenty-and-a-half years old. She's the niece of a mafia boss in the city, and currently resides at the Sanctuary. She also has a knack for trouble, mostly because she is so nosy, and because of her indirect criminal involvement. I am also going to apply that she is currently a waitress at a hip, local nightclub that is owned by a man who is employed by her uncle... but, under the table, up until she turns twenty-one in October. Her profile is here!
Comment below, and I will PM you. :3 Also, if we already have a thread (which has likely been at a standstill courtesy of my absence), don't let that deter you! I would love another thread with ya.
Thanks!
GinaChaseAlmaSophy ^_^
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Apr 27, 2013 18:19:45 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
Alma leaned her head upon the heel of her hand, surveying Locke with a smirk. She, too, was enjoying the bantering thoroughly. Locke’s tirade cut down the other classmates for their “inflated sense of self-worth”, which only made the woman’s grin broaden.
“…you are just like an old man, you know that?” she observed frankly, letting out a faint laugh, “I wouldn’t be so skeptical of people. I mean, sure, most of them are idiots, but there are some intellectuals out there. It would be unfair to lump them into the same category.”
Alma twirled a strand of hair. It was easy to forget that some of these people might be a good deal younger than her.
“Maybe… an upper-division ethics class or something,” Alma said with a shrug, “Like a seminar on evolution would be the best context…”
Locke pointed-out how heated it was getting, and Alma shook her head, “I’m not angry. I enjoy bantering like this.”
She hummed as they discussed the stakes.
“How ‘bout we get something to drink after… there’s a cafeteria on-campus, right?” Alma proposed, “Loser purchases said drinks?”
Two sodas, or a soda and a tea, wouldn’t be quite five dollars.
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Apr 27, 2013 18:08:43 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
Alma sighed as the familiar fabric rubbed against her cool skin, comforting her. The young woman rubbed her arm, trying to rub heat back into it, her arms quivering with the chill that still clung to her. Sylar was quietly explaining that he lived underground because it was safe, not because he wanted to. He’d been down there for three years, now… three years of darkness and moonlight? Sounded sad.
“No safer place than a place where the police dare not go,” Alma murmured, lightly stepping out of the alleyway and into the pale light of a street lamp, eyes swiveling around the street to orient herself. Yeah… she knew this place. She knew this place very well… she’d be back at the Sanctuary in no time at all, “I know I feel safest when I’m surrounded by the biggest and baddest. Nobody crosses them.”
Her footsteps were slow and careful, and she’d glance back occasionally to make sure that Sylar was following her. The boy frankly demanded what Alma’s intent was, certain that the woman meant to kill him.
“I promise, I will not do you harm,” Alma swore, tracing a small “x” over her heart with her fingertip, “And no one at the Sanctuary will hurt you, either, unless you give them a reason to. So just… don’t give them a reason to kill you.”
Alma smiled faintly. Don’t do like she did, is what she meant.
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Mar 31, 2013 21:57:10 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
The disembodied head snarkily replied that Mr. Silva was not Alma’s type, and proceeded to describe Mr. Silva in great detail.
The corners of her mouth twitched, faintly at first, before growing into a wry, somewhat dark smile. So this guy had seen Silva before. Sure, Mr. Silva didn’t look like much, but he had a keen head upon his shoulders. Sure, he had a weakness for women, but most hetero-normative men did.
“Oh, so you’re a stalker and a matchmaker?” Alma quipped, “Well, aren’t you a multi-faceted individual.”
She released her grip on his hair, allowing the head to bob up as it spoke of the mutants that hid there. She needed protection—and, now that she wasn’t restraining him, the blade was a reasonable defense.
Apparently the little weasel knew more about the place that she did… sure, Alma had her suspicions, but to hear the word from the mouth of a snitch… it simply reaffirmed it. She kept her face blank and cool, still wearing that wry smirk. She wore the look of someone who was well aware of her predicament, and was gauging the response of the floating head. In actuality, this was new news to her.
“The safest place to stay is the most dangerous place to be,” Alma countered. It sounded counter-intuitive, but it was true. As long as you didn’t make a scene, you would be just fine.
“I keep my head down here,” Alma murmured, “They don’t know who I am. I would prefer it to be kept that way.”
Alma rose slowly, straightening her shirt and surveying the bobbing head.
“You, on the other hand,” she said sharply, “Are an outsider. With a camera. Those two things combined will get you into a world of trouble… and I’m nothing compared to the big-guns that are holed-up here. I propose that you leave.”
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Mar 31, 2013 21:25:02 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
Alma sighed and rubbed her forehead, cracking a smile that wasn’t really all too cheerful.
She breathed a sigh in Spanish, expressing exasperation, before giving a mildly humored, “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine…”
Alma was just teasing, but really—this boy seemed stuck in this mindset that there could not be change, and would not be change.
“I have family from here,” Alma reiterated, looking towards the teacher without really paying attention. She was trying to sound matter-of-fact, but the tone translated to indignant, “I have come to the States often, I know what they are like. I am familiar with the human condition.”
“But these things are temporary,” Alma murmured, “With knowledge comes understanding. By not talking about mutation, we perpetuate the fear of it. By talking about it, suddenly the alien becomes familiar. If we look what makes us uncomfortable in the face, we can become at-peace with it.”
Alma looked at Locke unabashedly, but he was more focused on the floor.
“What are the stakes?” the woman inquired.
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Mar 27, 2013 19:12:35 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
Sylar paused as Alma mentioned the discarded garb, and the young woman gave a faint, humored "hm". When she was a small child, one of the things that her uncle had taught her was how to hide. There were some mutants, he explained, that could percieve things well beyond a human range. One had to be smart in evading them. Alma wouldn't brag to him, though-- he'd be disappointed that she'd panicked in her evasion. Panicking was the first, most fatal mistake that a person could make. Sylar commented on her body temperature, and Alma tried to surpress the chill that ran down her spine.
"I soaked the shirt with goop," Alma murmured back matter-of-factly, "It's damp, it won't do any good for maintaining body heat."
Keeping one hand curled around his tail, Alma used her other arm to start lifting the shirt over her head as she wriggled out of it. It was better to get out of damp clothes before one caught hypothermia. Alma paused as they rounded the corner into the larger room, which she could tell they were in by the echoes around her. She allowed herself to be guided to the nest, depositing the soiled shirt at the edge, and emptying the extra twice-stolen contents of her purse. She replaced her shirt, and stuck her coat in her bag, along with her boots. She did not want to get filth in those. She then took hold of his tail once again.
"Okay," she acknowledged, as Sylar announced where the exit would be. And in response to his inquiry, "Technically, no. Technically, it's a mutant-only homeless shelter. They call it the Sanctuary. There's just some criminals hiding-out there, too. The place just has enough of a reputation to keep the cops out."
Alma sighed as the kid spoke of being a weapon and a monster. It was a sentiment that she could understand, even if she didn't have the looks of a monstrous individual. And yet, he didn't consider himself powerful.
"You are raw power, kid," Alma assured him, "It's just a matter of how you use it."
A quiet settled before Alma murmured, "I know what it is like, to be feared. Being followed around by spirits and all... even if I can hide my gifts, that does not change the fact that I have them... and the spirits always get me into trouble..."
They slipped into silence once again, and Alma let herself be absorbed by the darkness, occasionally glancing back to make sure that her familiars were still following. The lights of their eyes bobbed like stars on a string behind her. Sounds were growing more prevalent now, but they were still muffled by layers of street that rested above them. Sylar leapt upward suddenly, and Alma released his tail in surprise, coming to a halt.
"What's going on?" the woman inquired, looking upward blindly. The creature responded that they had arrived, the low thunk of a punch opening-up a circular-shaped hole in the cieling. Alma squinted at the pale light that filtered in past the boy, breathing a sigh of relief.
Outside. Alma followed up the ladder once the monster had cleared the path and exited, carefully ascending into the pale light of the night. She slid out of the manhole, but didn't rise, uncertain of how steady her legs were.
"No offense..." Alma breathed, "But I am glad to be out of there. I don't know how you live down there..."
Now capable of seeing, she wiped off her feet and slid her boots back on before unfolding herself, rising to her full height to survey the boy in the half-light of the evening. Sure, he was scary to behold, but he had the face of a kid.
"Thank you for not killing me, Sylar," Alma said with a nod, "Do you want me to show you where the place is? In case you decide to ditch the underground?"
In other words, did he want to accompany her? Alma walked slowly towards the mouth of the alley, peering onto the avenue for a better idea of where she was. She lingered there, at the threshold, looking back towards the child that hid in the shadows.
Part of her was also unnerved by the whole experience of being hunted, and she was now on-edge, the shadows of the alleys all bearing unfriendly and hidden eyes that bore into her back. She was paranoid, and was not looking-forward to the long, lonely walk back to the Sanctuary.
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Mar 24, 2013 0:55:55 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
Alma was shivering now, slowly wiping the grime off of her arms and flicking it to the ground. She didn’t need to cloak her scent now. He wasn’t snarling at her, now, for which the young woman was grateful. The young woman still shivered, coming down from frayed nerves and adrenaline, her throat stopped up with anxiety.
>> "I can trust you?"
Honesty was probably the best policy with the kid, considering that he was her only way out of the tunnels. Besides which, he wasn’t a danger, now.
“On this topic of keeping you a secret…” Alma added as a stipulation, “Yes. It is a mutual respect that I pay to other mutants.”
Alma felt something touch her side and, not expecting it, she jerked away slightly. When she realized that it was Sylar’s tail, she lightly grasped on to it, trying not to tug on it.
“Can we go by… the, uh, place I woke up first?” Alma inquired, “I ditched my boots… and my shirt… I’d like them back. I should probably return the food and shirt I stole from you, too…”
She wasn’t exactly making a good case for the whole “trust” argument, but at least she was being honest, now. Alma meandered behind him, her eyes probing the darkness as they walked. She still couldn’t see, and her footsteps plodding clumsily over the uneven floor. Occasionally, the young woman stumbled, but she always managed to regain her footing.
“Ooo, no, not the Mansion,” Alma said warmly. She paused her response as he described the place, the encounter that he’d had with a mutant girl. Alma chuckled, smiling. Mutants were so readily willing to lend a helping hand to their genetic cohorts. He spoke kindly of it, and Alma listened.
“I come from a different place,” Alma informed the boy, “It masquerades as a homeless shelter for mutants. In actuality, it houses some pretty shady, dangerous sorts. But because of that, the police tend to leave us alone.” Alma sighed contently. Her relationship with the place varied upon what sort of trouble she got herself into. “I mean, it’s not dangerous for mutants, like us. Just mind your own business, and you can stay there scot-free. They’ll keep you safe. Free food, free bed… it doesn’t get better.” Alma cleared her throat. “The Mansion is different. It is more like a school for mutant kids, and more friendly with the public. They even have a superhero team, I here.”
Alma meandered behind him pensively, his last statement lingering in Gina’s mind.
“And I don’t know what you mean by ‘wouldn’t want’,” Alma retorted, sounding indignant, “A kid like you is just my sort, boy. Meanin’ no offense by this, but if you run with the intimidating sorts… even if they’re young intimidating sorts… no one messes with you. I like having that kind of power.”
A warmth tinged the corner of Alma’s tone.
“And if it’s the human-looking flesh-bags you’re worried about, there’s plenty of real mutants too… a bunch of big red guys. A lizard-looking guy, too, ‘cept I haven’t seen him in a while. Think he migrated elsewhere.” She cleared her throat again. “But I digress. It isn’t just people like me. It’s people like you, people more mutated than you, and a spectrum in-between.”
Profile Link Here Alma speaks in orangered. She also speaks French and Spanish. I don't. Google Translate makes mistakes.
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Mar 23, 2013 22:54:19 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
Alma tilted her head as she read the mimes’ messages. She quirked a smile at the response. He wrote informatively for a crowd of activists—sounded like an answer that an activist would give.
She followed him slowly, pausing as he cautioned her with a staying hand.
“I won’t ‘rat’,” Alma assured him, as soon as she read. She quirked a smile, and shook her head. Giving away information like that, before gleaning more, would be stupid. Besides which, knowledge was power. The more you knew, the more power you held. Alma wouldn’t give it away so freely.
“But… I could be held responsible for my thoughts?” Alma inquired, trying to quirk an amused smile, “Sounds like 1984.”
Posted by Alma Elizondo on Mar 12, 2013 19:00:24 GMT -6
Delta Mutant
118
0
Jul 14, 2013 10:20:50 GMT -6
The boy was silent as Alma moved, and it was then that the woman knew she had him. Though his mutation had warped him, she knew that deep down, he had no killer intent. He was scared. And when a woman faced her fate boldly and called his bluff, his argument crumpled. Trust was not an option, killing her was the only solution… but he was not yet ready to take that step. The knife, however, was still pointed into her stomach, waiting for the final thrust.
>> "I...I'm just a kid… My parent's abandoned me, I have no friends... All I have is my life, I..I couldn't let that go… I just want to be left alone. Safe in the shadows… I can't live up there, so I just wanted to hide down here..."
Alma exhaled a sigh of relief as the knife dropped. She could hear the loss of will in the boy’s voice, but until the final admonishment, she had still had the blade pointed towards her gut. Alma laughed breathlessly, without humor, tears spilling freely from her eyes. She’d been so frightened, so certain that her ploy wouldn’t have worked… for a moment, she had thought that death was truly imminent. Alma released the kid’s hand, and brought her own hands to her face, her shoulders shuddering as relieved tears streamed from her eyes.
She was just… so floored… that it had worked. She murmured in Spanish, mopping at her eyes with the heels of her hands.
“I would never turn you in,” Alma avowed, her tone still shaking, “Ever, okay? We’re mutants, kid. We need to look-out for each other. Besides which, I’m technically in-hiding, too. I’d never expose someone like that.”
Alma slowly reached for her knife, closed it, and wedged it into her bag. The closed blade clanked against the stolen canned food. Alma grinned—she’d have to give that back before they left. She let out a yawn. The adrenaline was slowly trickling out of her system, leaving her shivery, tired, and rather miserable-feeling overall. She wasn’t in the condition to leave at this very moment.
Alma got up, slowly, her joints creaking in protest.
“If you would… show me the way out… I will leave, and not come back,” Alma promised, “And I will not tell anyone that you are here, or that I saw you in the store… if that is what you wish. But-“
Alma paused, peering into the darkness as she spoke.
“The marks that you left when you cut through the metal door are very distinct,” she cautioned, “They will know to come looking for a mutant, when no human explanation can be found.” She peered into the darkness, draping her bag over her shoulder. “You would be safer in a group of mutants… of your own kind. If you’re interested… there is an aboveground place… the place I live, where it is all mutants. Very safe. Some of them have bad reputations that would make you and I look like saints… but it keeps the police, and the humans, out… You’d have your own room, plenty of food, and the freedom to walk about without hiding.”
Alma smiled faintly, “At night, the surrounding streets are pretty dead. I know a few quiet alleys that could get you pretty far, and I’m sure you know the underground like second-nature, so it is not like you would be trapped against your will. Just a thought for you to consider.”
Dunno how long this will take, but until that point, my hours online will be drastically less-- I will be using my brother's laptop, and seeing as he's on the computer as much as I am... yeah, not much computer time for me until I get my baby repaired.
He has a knack for letting his curiosity get him into trouble. He lives at the Mansion. Profile is