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.
Her eyes lit up and so did her whole face when he mentioned the garden, her accent even got thicker and her voice came out a little high pitched. “I vould love to see garden first, but vhy ve don’t start in classrooms, ya?” And then she cleared her throat a little and laughed at herself for getting so excited. Her voice returned to its norm, and she looked completely relaxed by this point. “But if you do not have time, we can plan for another day, ya?”
She did glance around at that point, and started to meander for a moment, not going more than a few yards. Her voice raised only slightly, she probably didn’t need to speak up too much because hallways in schools usually echoed a little, “I will be donating regardless, Sir.” And that would be the most blatant sign she wasn’t flirting, she was still very politely formal with Nate. When she turned, she went on to explain, “I want younger people to have better knowledge than I at their gifts. It is very important that they receive full benefit of what my donation can bring them. You see, my poppa left me money when he passed just recently, and a business to run. It is in his honor that I bring to children this joy because he loved children so. I chose this place because I certainly would not be alive to have been able to see him before he passed…”
Her breath hitched a little, but she remained in good spirits, lifting a hand to push a strand or two of the bleached blonde behind an ear and out of her face, “Pardon my babbling, I get very…” She trailed off for a pregnant moment, and then chuckled at herself again for forgetting the English, “Excited to help.” And with that, she wandered back toward him, stopping before being in his personal space, a polite distance away. If there were any plants within the area, they would be perking up slightly at this point, seem a little brighter, blossoms a little more plump, but most notably, their scent would be more noticeable. Mind you, these were subtle changes and temporary. It was also an unconscious thing on her part at this point. If it wasn’t clear before, it was clear now that she was indeed one of the gifted, and plants were part of it.
Her handshake was not a tight one, but nor was it lax. Up close, she had to tilt her head back only slightly. He was tall compared to her, but she wasn’t so short that she would get a crick in her neck. The woman nodded softly as he spoke, smiling at his own assessment. “I had only been once before… But my life was saved.” With a soft shrug, one shoulder lifted and her jacket creaked gently.
She couldn’t tell if he had the gift or not, but hers was probably a bit more evident. She no longer tried to hide it though, after having let herself think she was a freak for too long, she was letting herself feel comfortable in her own skin. But neither did she flaunt her gift. There were still those in this world who would try to do something unsavory to her if she would flaunt it openly.
“Anyway, nice to meet you,” she said softly, “If he isn’t here, I wouldn’t mind to see what I invest into. Would you mind to show me around? I mean, you do not have to if you are busy, but I would see this place with a teacher.” It may have seemed like she was flirting, but if he paid enough attention to her body language and not just the natural purr of her accent, she was asking a legit question. She did not lay a hand on his arm or shimmy up to him, and nor did she bat her eyelashes and pout her lips.
She was genuinely interested in taking a tour. After all, she was donating a rather large sum of money… 1/3 of what she had inherited from her father’s death money wise was going to the school, approximately $100k. She also wanted to talk about other things, like possibly erecting a small greenhouse somewhere on the grounds to give students a positive outlet and get their minds off of things like violence. The latter would involve her donating seedlings from her own company.
Xavia gave a real smile at the thought, her face transforming into an almost glowing look. This was going to be wonderful, not just for her, but for the kids. Yes, she thought, her father would have wanted something like this.
She turned at the sound of the male’s voice; her eyes finding the source rather quickly because he obviously wasn’t a student. Xavia had started just slightly when his voice rang out, but only because she was caught up in the thought of the past. Her head cleared quickly, though, and the songstress stepped forward and offered a well manicured hand, “My name is Xavia,” which she pronounced as Sah-vee-ah, “I have come by to talk to headmaster.” Her accent, although not as thick as it could be, was obviously Eastern European.
Her mouth curled up in a half smile, though it didn’t completely warm up her eyes. There was a grim quality to her gaze at the moment. “If headmaster is not here, I need to speak to someone who can take donation.” She gave a soft nod and awaited his reply.
Indeed, the closer he got to her, the more he might be able to smell the scent of her natural perfume. It wasn’t synthetic smelling, that much was quite up front. People would be sneezing around her a lot if she were to wear such disgusting scents upon her. No, this was the smell of real flora. She did not seem to not even notice if he smelled it, she didn’t really smell it much because she was used to her own aroma.
Her hair was hanging loose today, the blonde locks reaching shoulder length about now, as she was letting it grow out. If or when he shook her hand, she’d retract when necessary and unzip the crop jacket, revealing t-shirt that said “Tree Hugger.” It was funny because she wore leather at the moment, and though he didn’t know this, she was a vegetarian.
She took in his image, the stormy color of his eyes, his shaggy hair, etc. Xavia took in the way in which he dressed, and then lifted her gaze back to his face again, her own expression somewhat neutral at that point in time. It wasn’t the kind of gaze that screamed of flirtation, it was merely of one gathering information; the gaze of the first impression.
And then she spoke again, “I want to give thanks to these people who helped me when I was in trouble.”
She had missed this place immensely, though it was no longer the bullet ridden and nature choked abode that she’d squatted in. Indeed, it had come a long way and taken a goodly amount of cash, but it was all hers. The plant mutant found herself relaxing one day, lounging on the chaise she had decorated the living room with, channel surfing in her boredom. Food TV… Music… Chuck N—eew, History – eh.,, She clicked to local news, and left it there.
From that point, she’d head to the kitchen and pop a bowl of popcorn with the expectation of putting a DVD in and relaxing for the rest of the night. As soon as she returned, she set the bowl of popcorn on the end table and meandered over to the shelf to pick out a movie. When she didn’t find anything she liked right away, she picked at random, flopped on the chaise, and started the tedious process of picking the cellophane off of the case.
Her attention was everywhere tonight, but then it was rapt on the tv when a particular piece of news caught her attention. She stopped what she was doing immediately, the dvd dropping from her hand as it went lax. She couldn’t believe her eyes…
*Jupiter news story insert*
Part of her was rejoicing, and then the other part was crying. He was alive, the one she’d given up on for dead. Oh my god, he is alive! She stood up and fumbled for her phone, punching in some digits. When she reached the person she wanted, she gave him instructions to bring himself to where she was, and after hanging up, she grabbed for a pen and her pad of paper.
“Jupiter, Please meet me. You’ll know why when you arrive. Transportation will be provided. All My Love Layla”
He probably wouldn’t know her as Layla, after all, that was just her stage name. But she didn’t want him to immediately guess it was her, she wanted it to dawn on him once he saw the house. Not only that, but she needed to meet him on her grounds, because she was liable to wreck her bike as nervous as she suddenly felt.
She took a deep breath, and when her former body guard knocked on the door, she handed him the note, which she rubbed the smell of roses onto. Hopefully the message wasn’t too cryptic, she just couldn’t gather her thoughts to send a long letter. It was all happening so fast…
And then the messenger was gone, and she, who stood there in the doorway breathing heavily, turned on heel and went upstairs to change into something besides her night clothes, she chose a dress that looked a lot like the one he had bought her when he’d taken her from this place. And then, she sat there on the piano bench, waiting anxiously.
It was a day that should be like any other day in New York, New York. The pigeons were warbling, the air was smoggy, crime rates were crime rates, and Broadway was fabulous. So why was this day different? It wasn’t. Not really anyways. Xavia was back, though, and it was good to be home, for sure. She’d spent the last week or so just relaxing in New Hampshire, and then another day or two to decompress from post vacation blues, still kinda thinking about her dad and the funeral, which had only happened recently. She knew that she needed to get back home eventually though, and so she left her family behind, taking her third of the profits from the greenhouse, and because her mom was thinking about selling, she insisted she keep the deed because she just couldn’t let it go.
So now here she was, owner of two properties, comfortably financed, and about to launch herself into her music career in both Broadway and recordings. Unfortunately for the latter, she had no songs of her own and she wanted to do original stuff. Now what?
The leather clad plant mutant sat atop her Harley, and was heading down the road, weaving between cars when the traffic was not clogged. Oh, how she loved her bike, it was so much quicker than driving a car in this city, and much more convenient than wandering about on foot. She was headed to the Mansion, intent on forking over a healthy donation to invest in the future of gifted kids. Once upon a time, she had been too snooty to even think about helping one of “those” people out.
It took a bit to remember where she was going, but she eventually arrived at the place she needed to be. She slowed the bike to a stop and kicked the stand down, shutting off the ignition and pocketing her keys. Leather pants creaked as she swung her leg over and dismounted, and then moved to take off her helmet. Her hair is shaken out and her aviator glasses are removed and one ear piece was stuck into the pocket of her crop jacket. Booted feet crunched as she walked toward the entry of the edifice.
Upon her entry, memories of her first time here were flooding her brain. If it hadn’t been for the boy with the animals, she probably would have been driftwood. She also remembered accidentally poisoning the blonde girl. She was sure a lot of people had been mad at her, but at the time, she wasn’t in a good state of mind.
The woman glanced around, and she sighed a little. One thing she didn’t know was how to navigate the halls. So when the first person came along that she could ask, she would ask where she could find the headmaster. She was hoping that the donation would not only ease her mind for those she never thanked, but it would give another generation of mutants a chance to learn how to use their gifts properly… That was something she didn’t have, a formal education about her gift.
For now, though, she wandered the area near the entry way, gazing at random things in general, the checkbook burning an invisible hole in her pocket.
Posted by Xavia on Aug 18, 2012 13:14:58 GMT -6
Derek Menes likes this
Beta Mutant
c21e56 - Rose Red
Bi-curious/Straight
Artair's Lady
542
70
Sept 21, 2017 11:25:52 GMT -6
Kimmie
Individual
Character's full name: Xavia A. Worshahlai Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: (if applicable) Dryad Gender: Female Age:34 Birthday: June 3, 1983 Nationality/ Ethnicity: Hungarian Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Hungary
Appearance
Hair colour and style: Naturally Black, Curly (sometimes straight), and long. Right now it is manic Panic Blood Red Eyes: Caramel Brown Height: 5'6" Build: Slender Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: The backs of her hands are roadmapped with scars that looked to be from a lash. She also has collected many scars eksewhere, such as stretch marks. But they do not make her less attractive. Other features: Pretty gorgeous, but not in the cliche way, her nose might be a little too large and her eyes too far apart, but her killer smile makes up for that fact. You will be able to smell her before you see her, she usually smells like hothouse roses.
Everyday clothing style: Preppy, she likes to wear silk and lace, and lots of jewelry that depict plant life. She has also taken to leathers for riding her Harley. Uniform: (if applicable) Sleepwear: All Natural, but if kids are involved, t-shirt and shorts/ Miscellaneous clothing: Has many costumes, likes to play dress up.
Character
Personality: (How you character behaves, social tendencies, quirks, etc.) Is pretty shy and sweet, usually, but if someone pushes her buttons the right way, she will turn psycho. It is hard to make her mad. Hobbies/ Interests: Plants are her life. She loves to collect exotics, succulants, perenials, annuals... etc... etc.... etc... Job or part time job and description: (if applicable) Independent Singer Jobs can be established later through in character RPing. If you plan on working at the mansion it will have to be approved. Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Bugs and fire. Special talents: (not related to mutation) She is a former concert Pianist, she can also sing like an angel. Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: (please explain)Good – She had once not cared for any particular alignment, but she is moving toward goodness, wanting to use her gift for something besides personal gain. She would help old ladies cross roads with her gift if she could.
Mutations
Mutation description: She can take the shape of a plant, and manipulate flora She can transform into any plant she chooses, but has less control when she is in a rage. For instance, she could be standing on the side of the road when some random attacker smacks her against the head, and she gets mad... The plant she turns into or draws from is random. No, she cannot point to the ground and make something grow, it either grows from her body (the first stages of transformation but with the minimal effort), or she has to physically touch the ground and transfer her energy into the earth (which, depending on what she is trying to grow, takes varying levels of energy. It takes her longer to force a tree to grow than it would take for her to push some daisies.) And this only works in the immediate area (think personal space) and the plants will wither away if she moves out of a 10 yard circle She can manipulate plants that are already there to grow from seed or nothing, but not when her stamina or strength is low. She can also manipulate the plants to move a certain way, i.e. curl around someone’s wrist or tickle someone’s foot, but not while she is a plant herself because it takes too much energy to shift into a plant. She can only control up to 5 different species at once, and they all must be within the radius, with the exception of larger plants, which she can only manipulate up to two whether they are the same species or not, and she would not be able to manipulate other plants at the same time. If she is controlling one species, she is concentrating less and can manipulate as many as she needs to so long as her energy is not sapped too much, but the radius is halved. Her clothes stay with her if she shifts as long as the material is not man made, or of animal origins (i.e. leather would probably fall off, but cotton would not) She tries to stay away from wearing leather if she knows she has to fight. If she is wearing the leather when a fight happens, well, hopefully she is wearing cotton underwear and bra, otherwise she really is nature girl. The longer she stays a plant, the less likely she is able to shift back into her norm until she is knocked out. She has approx. 30 minutes to shift back to her norm, or she will have to spend thrice the amount of time it takes for her transformations... She is a plant, and plants can be harmed like any other thing. If she gets hit by a blade, she still bleeds. It depends on the type of plant she becomes on what type of harm she can handle and not handle. If she is a tree, well, punching a tree would hurt, yes? But if she is a blade of grass, she can be crushed underfoot. Fire would not immediately do critical damage, being that live plants usually have moisture. She would smolder, and then catch fire, and if the fire isn’t handled in time, she could possibly die. Hopefully, she is able to not catch fire because that would be bad. As far as what kind of plants she can turn into, she cannot turn into any species in the world. She must have some form of interaction with said plant before she can turn into it. She has to touch it, smell it, and sometimes taste it. It takes her between 30 seconds to learn the species, 5 minutes to transform into that the first time, and every time she transforms it takes less and less time to form, but no less than 30 seconds. If she is fully transformed, she cannot move from the spot she is in, if she is still somewhat human, she can still walk/run, but will freeze the moment the mutation takes full effect.
She has no limit to the size of the plant, but the bigger the plant, the longer it takes to shift. Her normal range of manipulation is a 20 ft radius, another 10 when she is rained on and/or in full sunlight. The further she gets away from plants she has manipulated from already thriving plants, they simply return to normal. If she brings the plant to life herself, they will wither and die.
When she is in plant form, only her thoughts are of human origin, she cannot see or hear, but sense through tremors in the ground how far an enemy or person might be, as well as sensory communication with plants in a 5 ft radius, leaving less time to react. She can’t hear when people are around, and the other plants don’t actually talk to her, but it is assumed they release a chemical that she may or may not react to, the way humans release endorphins. – Also want to add that it is less likely for her to shift into plant form when it is in the middle of winter, as it is cold and plants don’t normally like cold.
Strengths: Sunlight and rain: She can manipulate plants from farther away. When fortified with sunlight and rainwater, her strength is increased by half, and she has a better range of her manipulations. However, the further the plant is from where she stands, the shorter the lifespan.
Weaknesses: Fire, and Frost Her attacks slow way down, and she is more easily dispatched when confronted with fire and frost, much like any plant. If it is a particularly strong fire attack, she goes up in flames until she is KO, she will shift back into human form and STILL be on fire. She has X amount of time before she burns to death. The longer she stays a plant, the less likely she is able to shift back into her norm until she is KO, and the weaker her attacks get. It would be harder for her to grow a plant from nothing. It would take her more time, and leave her open for attack.
**Power Growth Added (July 10, 2017)**
Growth description: Plant Possession: Xavia can jump into a plant the same way a ghost can jump into a person, thereby taking control of said plant and different things that a plant can do.
She can meld into one tree at a time, one bush, or an area of small plants to accommodate her body mass. While possessing the plant(s), she retains her senses, though sight and sound are distorted. She is able to control movements of the plant(s). Her time limit within the meld is up to 60 minutes. She touches the plant(s) she intends to go into, and her body completely melds into it, making it so she takes on traits and attributes of the specific plant(s). She can meld up to 15 times a day safely, with emergency only five more times in reserve that might amplify weaknesses or side effects.
She will hear a tearing sound going in and out of the plant. If she is thrown out of the plant, the sound is more like a wet, yucky sound.
Strengths: When in a tree, she can withstand more damage as it is harder to damage a tree; the bark and wood provides armor When spread between small plants, i.e. a field of flowers, she can pull herself out of a flower that is being damaged while retaining meld with the rest. She can simply just pull herself out of the plant without harm if she does it within her time limit or before damage is done to the plant... Or if she is shifting from close to ground, it will kind of be like if she came out of the dirt and was just laying there. She can amplify one attribute of a plant if the plant has potential for airborne uses; like if she is split between poppies, she can make the pollen more potent in order to cause someone to possibly suffer side effects such as drowsiness of inhaling the pollen, and this is due to her ability to produce said pollen on her own.
Weaknesses: She cannot hop into multiple plant species, they must be all of the same species or the meld cannot happen. If she is spread between multiple units, she has fragmented vision, and sounds would echo and distort. When the plant is significantly damaged, she is thrown from the possessed plant(s); petals being plucked or branches being broken, for example. She cannot control plants that she is not melded into. She can get hurt in the process of the damage to the plant(s), and can feel what the plant feels. She does not teleport between plants Side Effects of overdoing it: Being thrown out of the meld forcefully, headache, nose bleed, fatigue, injury from being thrown out
When thrown out, she might get thrown about ten feet and as little as five. Her senses are affected by being in a plant. Once in the plant(s): Sight – Singular: She sees a monochromatic pallet of colors, and it is like looking through a fisheye lens Sight – Plural: Her sight is fractured like a broken mirror with the same color pallet. Sound – Singular: The sound is muffled Sound – Plural: The sound is muffled and echoing Feel – She feels what the plants feel
Fighting Style (if applicable)
Explanation: She fights with her fists and feet when she needs to (punching and kicking) Pros for fighting style: She has a mean, right hook, she can kick pretty high and do some gymnastic style moves with ease. No bullets/blades. Cons for fighting style: Her left hand is a bad aim. She cannot jump very high, and her speed is moderate with everything but her right hook. No bullets/blades.
Faction Allegiance The X-men/ The Order/ The Kabal/ Other/ Unaffiliated All new characters start as unaffiliated. Joining a faction can be established through in character RPing. You don't ever need to be affiliated with one of the factions.
History Of Your Character: Xavia was born in Hungary and immigrated with her family at a young age to the city of Kalamazoo, MI, where her father started a greenhouse business and soon brought in the riches to his family. His youngest daughter was the light of his eyes, and very spoiled in comparison to her siblings. This affected her attitude, and she because a mean girl for a long time. She was quite arrogant, she thought mutants were the scum of the earth, and she treated everyone who was not worth it in her eyes, like they were inferior. But then, she would find out that she was what she hated most in the world...
Xavia had been abducted as a teenager, her friends killed, her family devastated, and the whole town of Kalamazoo left asking questions. She was the most popular girl in school, why would anybody set out to do that to her and her family? For a year, the mystery remained, and Xavia was still missing. For a year, her family hoped, and then gave up on ever seeing her alive again. She was special to her captor… She didn’t know it, but she had power in her that could change the world if she used it right. He would get rich off of her, he was sure of it. He didn’t care that he ruined her life and killed to get his hands on her. But she hadn’t awakened yet, she was still dormant. He needed to figure out how to tap into that raw power.
You see, he’d watched her, stalked her, and breathed her. He knew her better than she knew herself, and he had her. The old man wiggled his fingers in delight when he saw her pretty face, and he cackled in that mad scientist way. “Soon, my dear, you will blossom.” The first day he had seen her, he was fascinated by the things she did without her own volition. How the flowers seemed to bend toward her hand if she reached to touch the blossoms, how the grass perked up and seemed brighter, how even the trees sighed happily with the breeze of her passing. He followed her, then had her followed, and finally hired the right man for the job of nabbing her.
For the next year, he was her father. He brought his rose to life. He experimented with injections, temperature control, sun lamps, and plants until the day she finally bloomed. He took notes the whole time, of course. And finally satisfied, he let her back out into the real world to observe her in her “native” habitat.
Human X had most of the information they wanted, and she returned home in a zombie-like state, flowers growing at her feet in the middle of winter.
Several years later and she was kidnapped again by the same people. She ended up in New York City and ran into all kinds of trouble; squatting in houses, running into lots of bad guys, and even ended up in Romania along the way as a means of running from the man who loved her and who she loved. She was captured there and tortured, losing her memory for some time. When she returned to the states, she was a different person.
It was after she recovered her memory that she had a brief reuniting with Jupiter... One thing led to another and she became pregnant but had to go on tour due to her contract... Then she found out her father was ill and had to go home to Michigan, where she found out she was pregnant. She gave birth to a baby girl, Delilah, who is four now. Her father passed away shortly after. She stayed in Michigan for a few years to help with the business.
New York was never too far from her thoughts... She has since returned and the shennanigans continue... She currently lives in the house she squatted in, she owns the greenhouse business and because of expanding, has gained quite a bit of pay off... On top of her album sales.... and the fact she now works at the mansion as a Biology and Botany teacher. Okay, so the woman keeps busy.
She gave birth to a baby girl, Delilah, who is four now. Roleplay Where did you learn about this site?: My best friend, aka Pixiewercat Do you have any other existing characters, if so who: I have many in various realms, but this would be my first, here. Sample RP:
It was a balmy night in August when she made her return to New York City, her body sheathed in leather from head to toe and on her shiny new Harley. She rolled to a stop in a residential area, booted feet pressing to the pavement in front of the old Victorian house she’d once squatted in. Memories flashed through her head as she gave a sidelong glance toward the beautiful edifice, once tattered and vacant, now flourishing with fresh paint and restored glory. Hell, the sod still looked like it had been freshly rolled out.
A ghost of a smile touched her lips, and she pulled off the helmet that protected her head. Blonde hair fell in a braid over her shoulder with the movement of her actions, while supple fingers gently placed the straps of said helm around one handlebar of the bike. She turned and looked at her new property. Xavia’s hips swayed and her pants creaked as she began to walk toward her home. Her keys were then retrieved from her pocket and jangled as she slid the correct key into the lock, shaking with anticipation. When the lock clicked, she pressed the button at the top of the long brass handle and pulled that heavy door open, and she reached in to turn the knob for the foyer lights. The chandelier flared to life above the gleaming floors, and the newly restored piano that she’d had taken from this very house to be saved.
A breath that she didn’t know was baited was released as she entered her home, and she headed straight for the bench that sat in front of said piano. A small laugh bubbled forth as she slid to the center and lifted the cover that lay between her and the keys. Her fingers shook as she touched the ivory and played a few notes... She launched into playing some Bach, her body relaxing and beginning to sway.
As she closed her eyes and bent her head foreword, memories of things began to fill her thoughts… It seemed like forever and a day since she’d made a pile of ripped blankets on a dusty old mattress into a bed in the bedroom upstairs, before she’d been rescued by her red prince and taken away to a better place. And then she’d run away from him… Her head rolled back and her mouth opened, the smell of roses seeming to seep out of her pores and through the house as she remembered her love for the man in question, the man she’d not seen since the fateful day in Romania…
The music was beautiful and graceful as it left her fingertips and traveled through the grand piano. Her feet touched the pedals that caused the sound to stay longer, and memories of everything that had happened since then. The loss and return of her memory, her career becoming a tour across the country as she opened up for various artists of more note than she held, and finally, the visit to her family for the first time since she’d been taken from Kalamazoo… “My darlink… My darlink!” her mother had sobbed into her shoulder, “Ve thought you died, Sa-vee-ah… Your poppa, he is sick vith heart ache…” Xavia remembered visiting her father, holding his hand as he died with peace in his heart, knowing his beloved baby was alive and safe. She remembered the funeral, and the burial… She said goodbye to him then, and made peace with the lost souls of her friends, and she hugged her mom goodbye and left town again. There was nothing left for her in Mid America besides heart ache.
When she finally made it back to New York, she felt different. There was no longer fear holding her back, nor the blank canvas of her amnesiac brain. She was whole and filled with a sense of renewal. She was someone who could stand up and face her enemy without trepidation… She understood herself so much more now, she knew who and what she was. No more hiding…
With the final notes ringing, a soft breath left her. Xavia was brought to the present, to where her hands were poised above the piano keys. When she looked around her, the room was filled with growth, potted plants having become thrice their sizes. Emotion formed a lump in her throat, and she slowly unfolded herself to a stand, reaching up to unbutton her vest. From there, she went to explore the house…
Xavia was definitely not a mafia baby. Heiress? Yes. Though that had nothing to do with why she was being protected. Not that she knew the other girl was contemplating reasons for the singer needing protection. The part about the kidnapping was true, of course, but how would Verdigris know? Xavia was always careful about details like that.
She cleared her throat again, testing her tongue against the roof of her mouth a little, “Um, yeah, brain freeze.” More like freezer burn. She had the tendency to forget that the cold was not always good for her. Why couldn’t she take on the succulent strength of withstanding cold? Bah. And then the subject changed, thankfully. She wouldn’t have to curb to avoid explaining her situation. After all, she had no clue she was talking to someone as special as she was. It wasn’t like she had never used her gifts in public, but she was more careful at the moment because of the nature of the situation.
“I suppose you could say I play.” She said, smiling genuinely, though it wasn’t a full blown one. It was a gentle curving. Guilty. This was one of the clubs she was usually booked at when not working at the hotel, but today was a pleasure trip, not a business trip. She needed to relax like crazy, her nerves were simply shot. Her neck was tighter than a Cheerio around a pea.
“It really is a nice place… They did a wonderful job with renovations, I think.” She grinned and shifted on her stool. “I have not seen you here before. You here for the first time? If so, you’re in for a treat tonight, I think. They are bringing the big band out in a little while.” As per routine, she thought. “They really get to playing the stuff from way back when, you know? The stuff you don’t hear much anymore over the blasting of rap beats and guitar riffs. Ahh, always so beautiful and smooth like porcelain,” she went on to say. She forgot about the welts on her palm and gestured passionately as she spoke, seeing as she was an animated sort of person. Absentminded sometimes, and perhaps a little eccentric and off her rocker, but that was Xavia. She was probably one of the slim populace of genuine characters in upper crust NYC. And she had plenty of reason to be off her rocker. At least she didn’t turn evil from all of the issues at hand.
Her eyes sort of half closed as the patronage applauded the end of the song, and a ragtime tune began to play. If one knew ragtime, one would know this song to have been played by Muggsy Spanker & His Ragtime Band. Some of the patrons swarmed to the dance floor and started dancing the jitterbug, swing, or similar dances. The club was definitely hoppin’ that night.
“I suppose I have taken up enough of your time…” Her voice was flat, as if she knew he had small doubts. But no, she didn’t call him on it. She heaved a soft sigh, sinking to her knees next to the coffee table. She didn’t look at him now, she wasn’t about to fall apart. Not right now. The silence grew stale very quickly, but she remained thusly as she retrieved the microcassette for him. It was a good minute before she spoke again… “I am just trying to make sense of things, you know?” When she had the tape, she stood and offered it to him.
“Call the hotel if you find anything… Please.” And then she grabbed the pad of paper she always had handy for the same reason she had the tape recorder handy, and quickly jotted down a few numbers and addresses. “I am giving you my parents’ number and address because perhaps they have more information. I don’t talk to them because I don’t know how deep into my life those people are. I don’t want to hear that they are dead because I called them, you know?” She sighed. “They never liked to bring it up with me, either. I think they were afraid I was like glass.”
She tore the page out and handed it to him, “If anybody knows information, it’s them. I would have contacted them myself if I could risk it… I also gave you the number for my job and the address. Is there anything else you need from me?” And finally, she looked up with a blank expression. Lord knows she wasn’t going to get her hopes up that he would find answers for her. Whether he believed her or not at this point wasn’t the issue. The bad guy was.
There were lots of things that she couldn’t piece together. Why her? What was so special about her?
“Take it. I don’t talk to many people anyways. I have the hotel taking calls for me quite graciously.” She wandered from the chair to the fireplace, grabbing the other cell and looking down at it. “For that matter, you may have this one too.” She turned and looked at him, but didn’t immediately bring the phone to him. A grim expression crossed her features. “I have to wonder… What is it about me that they find so important that they kill for me? So many lives… I am tired, Detective.”
When she said she was tired, she wasn’t asking him to leave. No, she was the type of person who was blunt, if a bit nervous. She would ask him to leave. But she did not. “I know there must be a thousand questions running through your mind by now, too. If I were you I would wonder too. Any sane and rational person would find my story to be farfetched, but what reason would anyone lie about watching people die?”
Xavia snorted and moved over to the coffee table, gently setting the sleek, and more expensive looking phone next to the recorder. She then crossed her arms over her chest and gave a weary sigh. “Whoever it is seems to think that I am something worth killing for. But why? Why take a young girl from her home and take away the best years of her life? Why that day? I don’t understand what it is they are looking for in me, but they can’t have me. I am human being, damn it. I am not some experiment!”
She began to pace again, wracking her brain for possible answers, tapping her finger on her upper arm and sighing little sighs of frustration every now and then. What could she do? She was tired of running, tired of being chased, tired of people dying in her wake without her doing the killing, save for one man. Turning on heel, she gave pause and thought. Really thought. She was silent and her gaze was rooted on the old phone.
Her face scrunched up in concentration as she tried to remember something, anything that could be a clue. Sweat popped up on her brow as images hit her, mostly blurred and pixilated like. They flitted through her mind like the blipping of a TV screen, this is how her flashbacks were. Her pupils dilated, a sure sign she was in flashback land and not the here and now.
She scarcely paid attention when her spiked chocolate shake was placed on the gleaming marble of the bar. Her eyes were on the two men who went to pretend they weren’t there to protect her as they nonchalantly checked girls out and did the dude thing. Her mind was wandering with the sound of a familiar tune, one which she sang often at other clubs and fought the urge not to hum along to now. Her lids slowly shifted halfway down, veiling her gaze with long, dark lashes.
Then she heard a voice, and the singer flinched out of her reverie. Xavia nearly knocked her mudslide off the bar as she turned toward the source. Playing her clumsiness off, she grabbed for the drink and gave a sheepish smile. “Um, yeah. They are protective too much sometimes, but they are paid well, I suppose.” A genuine smile crossed casually over her glossed lips. “They insisted on joining me. I think they wanted to wear suits.” She rolled eyes and then offered her right hand. “Um.. Xavia..” she said, almost calling herself by the name she had known herself as for a year.
After a shake or not, she grasped the straw of her drink with forefinger and thumb, placing it between her lips and sipping the frozen beverage. Oh, lord… Maybe trying a mudslide was a bad idea. The roof of her mouth burned. She gave a slight wheeze and deposited the drink on the bar and peeked down at her hand. Yup, welts. She closed her hand right quick and in a hurry, and let the mudslide sit to warm. Freezing Cold+plant mutant=ouch (She could handle a little ice in her vodka, but that was pushing it). But she had forgotten again in her haste to get out and do something fun.
Hopefully the woman would miss the little peek see at the hand. She was not exactly open to the public about her abilities, now was she? Nah. When she was sure she could talk again after “freeze” burning the roof of her mouth, she cleared her throat out of necessity and then said, “I always love hearing other musicians at work. The music is lovely, yes?”
The slightly injured hand curled into her skirt, and she looked around somewhat, always scanning for danger, always checking, always… Careful. She knew that danger didn’t care where she was, it would happen when it happened. A fact, that. “This place is nice as well, too. The owner said he paid pretty handsomely for the customizations. Only the best for his patrons.”
Her gaze remained fixed on the wall for a few moments more, and then she looked directly at him with eyes that reflected a soul older than the young body that harbored it. A smile played at one corner of her lips, and she nibbled her bottom lip while he talked. The smile never reached the rest of her face: it was a cool one.
“I can tell you what happened at the hotel…” she said, “But what happened before the hotel is important too, yes? How about I start at the beginning? I hope you have a tape recorder handy…” Xavia stood then, the slip of a woman. The smell of rose was strong, but there were none in sight, not even potpourri. “Actually, I have one. You can just take the microcassette with you.” With that, she left him for a moment. When she returned, she had a recorder, and a package of unused tapes. “I generally use these for songwriting, but this is more important.” She sat down and canted her head. “Whether you’re ready or not, Detective, it is passed time to get this ball rolling.”
It took her a few seconds to get her resolve, she grabbed for a fresh tape and looked at him silently before she loaded the recorder and shut it, pressing record and setting it down. Then she began to paint a very vivid scene that might have seemed farfetched. “My name is Layla on stage, but I am actually Xavia Worshalai. I was born in Hungary, my family came here for American Dream, yes?” Her voice cracked a little and she regarded him with a level gaze. “I was the kind of girl every girl wanted to be. My papa and mama own a greenhouse and are doing quite well. I was the kind of girl who picked on people for their flaws, not knowing I was flawed myself.” Deep breath. “I suppose back then I was normal. Homecoming queen, you see? I had everything but sense…” Tired chuckle.
“The beginning to all of this happened eleven years ago, Detective. I was having a large party for my birthday, my sweet sixteen. Everyone came who I invited, it was lovely. But then there were gunshots. It still makes little sense to me, but I suppose they wanted me very badly. My friends were all killed in a massacre because they wanted me.” Deep breath. She stood and began to pace as she spoke. “I remember waking up with bright lights blaring in my face. I guess they kidnapped me, but I don’t remember. I mean… I was in shock when my boyfriend died in my arms, there is not much I remember except for maybe seeing men dressed in black.” She swiveled to look at him with an angry, but very honest look on her face. “I wake up in some lab, strapped down like animal.” Her accent even deepened with her anger. “I couldn’t speak though. I had tube in my throat. But an old man was standing over me, laughing and saying he knew I was ready, he knew that I had what he needed.” A visible shiver rode through her small form.
“I don’t remember what else happened because he put something into the IV that was in my arm. It was green liquid… I felt warm and then everything went black. When I was aware again, I was walking down the highway toward my home… I don’t know how long I was gone. I had no memory between watching my boyfriend die, the man in lab, and getting home. It was all so strange… And then I notice things. Little things… Things about me I kept secret from my family. Oh, it scared me. I discovered I was a ‘freak,’ you see. I mean, I don’t think I am now, but teenagers… you know?” She gave a bitter laugh and plopped down in her chair. “I thought they did it to me, but now I know it was me all along.” That cloying scent of roses started to smell like decaying foliage then. “I could touch a dead plant and make it live. I could make grass greener. I could grow rare plants in a climate that wasn’t meant to grow those plants. Think of it, Detective… Plants that might be extinct, what if I could bring those back to life? Do you know how dangerous that could be? I didn’t think of it that way at the time, I was young and foolish.”
Without forethought, she gave him a demonstration, raising her palm and concentrating. It started with a sprout, and then little green tendrils curled around her hand. “I could do something scary and amazing and beautiful at the same time…” Morning Glory began to climb up her arm and she buried her face lovingly into a blossom, then continued with her story. “In any event, I don’t want to give a full life story. Everything I want to say is important, I think. I hope, anyway.” Another pause is given, she pulled her face away from the bloom and shook her arm, causing the vines to wither and drop to the floor. Xavia walked to the mini fridge and opened it, grabbing a couple bottles of water. She set one down in front of him and returned to her seat, opening the bottle and taking a swig with the sound of crunching plastic. After she put the cap back on, she continued. “I was left alone like that for years, but eventually wanted to go out and see the world again.” I was tired of being afraid, and by the time I was old enough to understand, I decided to hire someone to help me find answers. I thought he was a private investigator.”
“He wasn’t who I thought he was. Somehow I was kidnapped again when I went to meet with him at the park. He injected me with something, I think. I… I don’t know. I wake up in van, and there are thugs. I panic, and make accident happen, and then someone rescued me from the van. I thought I killed the thugs. There was a young man who help me and took me to a school, I think… There were many young people around, like… Children and teenagers… And some of them scared me because they were like me. I… Ran away.”
“I found out where I was soon enough. You don’t need me to tell you that I found myself in this city.” She shook her head. “New York. I pretty much had no place to go, and did not know that they were tracking me, still. I sleep wherever my head would find comfort… When it was warm, I sleep in park. When it was cold, I try to find shelter. I find abandoned house and slept there when I could. It is an old house and I can show you if you need me to. It had a dusty old piano in the foyer. At any rate, they found me there, so I run. Some people stopped the thugs that chased me, and I ran away and hid in the park… I stay there for a while because it was warm enough.” Another pause for a drink is given.
“That is where I met Jupiter.” That was most assuredly a sore subject. The look that crossed her face was of agony, the kind one gets when someone they loved died. “I take him to my place… I knew it was dangerous, but I was building a life there. The thugs came back and almost kill me that time, but he killed them instead. At any rate, he took me to a place where there were others like us. I was growing to care for him by then, afraid for him. There I was, and I was being hunted. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being hurt because of me. So I tie him up with vines…” She kind of laughed a sad laugh, “And then I ran again. I left everything he gave me and ran like coward.”
“They did not find me again after that. I joined this mission that would take me to Romania. I will not go into detail there because it is not important or relevant to what you need to know. It is another story altogether and a very vivid picture, that. Just know that I woke up one day with no memory at all. I come back here and go on with my life thinking I was someone else. Something told me that this was the place I needed to be, here. I saw glimpses of my red man in my dreams every now and then. Saw faces of those who I knew, but they were all blurred… I couldn’t remember and it drove me mad. I didn’t even know who I was before all of that. Xavia Warshalai ceased to exist, Detective.” She leaned her elbows on her knees and folded her hands around the bottle. “I was Layla from the moment I set foot in New York again.”
“It started out peaceful. I was left alone for the most part because I was nobody. I was just another face of just another girl who had just another talent/ I did not seek to become popular when I took the job at the hotel. I just wanted to survive, no? I also needed money to try and figure out who I was and where I came from, and… I honestly just wanted that alone. But my boss, the man who was killed, said he saw something in me. I mean, he didn’t know about what I am, but he saw me as a star and told me so. I started to sing in the lobby and in the lounge, and he booked me at clubs so I would attract more and more customer.” She sighed. “I was supposed to appear at a charity function a few months after he hired me. I decided not to use car because the hotel where the gala was at, was only a few blocks. I get dressed and headed out, and was getting some air. I would not have spent long outside because it was cool, but not freezing.”
“I didn’t know that I was being followed. I… Didn’t see them coming, they were on me out of nowhere and they were attacking me. You showed up dressed as Santa, and a few others showed up. There was a woman there, she has really blue eyes. I remember them, and at the time, she was so familiar but I didn’t know who she was. I know her now, she was at the school to talk to me, she was on plane to Romania, and then she was there to help rescue me. I got into car, and it seemed like… I knew they weren’t one of us, you know? Not… Special… They were normal. I remember that much. But then one of them got to me using some kind of force… He was staring at me and my head started to hurt… And I know that power because someone else has that power, but he was not that same man from the school.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “Man with same power, his name is Garret, I think. But this man who used the same kind of power was not him, was someone else altogether. It stopped after a bit though. He was taken away.”
“So finally, I shut myself in hotel room and only came out to work. I was afraid of being hurt again. I didn’t know why I was so afraid, I still didn’t remember my life before I was Layla. I wanted nothing more than to be left alone, to be a recluse. I did not answer my phone, and I did not answer my door. My boss hired a bodyguard for me and I wanted to be alone one night. The night that they found where I was staying…” Thick swallow. “So I took a walk. I walked to the place where I had been attacked. I wanted to try and remember, but I didn’t stay for very long because I felt so uneasy. I got it in my head that I needed to leave. I had to run. I am good at that, if you cannot tell by now. I ran to my room and started throwing clothes into my suitcase. I heard a pop, then, and turned around. My boss was coming in with the bad men.” She was starting to get agitated, but did what she could to remain calm, wringing her hands. The click of the tape is heard as the first half hour of her story came to a halt, and she fumbled with the recorder. “I know this story is long, I am sorry if I take up too much time, but you have to know all of it…” She flipped the tape and pressed the button again, clearing her throat.
“He said we had contract and asked where I was going, and then the man with the gun told me it was good I packed because I was to go on a trip. I didn’t know who the men were, I was frightened.” She swallowed again, “My boss must have found out that someone was looking for me… The man with the gun said his fate was in my hands, he should be kissing my ass and saying sorry for naming me. He named my name for a reward. He always was a greedy little toad. I was being dragged away by the time they took care of him. And then I was fighting with the man who was dragging me while the other man was running down fire escape.” She shook her head. “He hit me and… I saw red. I wouldn’t let him kill me. Something snapped and everything that happened before came back all of a sudden. I remembered feeling like a victim and having no power over my own fate…” Xavia’s voice rose and she slammed her hand down on the table, “So I hit him back… I.. I fought with everything I had. We fell and scuffled for his gun and it was between us, and then…. Then he was dead. The gun went off. He was on top of me and he went limp and his blood was on my hands. I killed him. I didn’t mean to, but I killed him. And..” her voice lowered… “And… For a moment I felt a weight lift from me, like… I just saved myself, I didn’t get help to save myself, I did it on my own for the first time… And… It was like something I had never felt before, do you know how that is? It is a liberating feeling…. And then I knew fear again, because I killed him. I had never before shot a man. So I screamed. And then you came along.”
It was not the end though, she did not reach over to press stop, but a prolonged and agitated silence followed with some heavy breathing. She wasn’t crying, her eyes were shining, and she was shaking with her anger for what had happened to her. Her hand visibly shook as she grabbed for the cap on her water bottle, opening it and taking a long guzzle to help calm her nerves. She needed a stiff drink after this, she thought. When she was calm, she began to speak again. “After you left, Detective… I don’t think it stopped. I don’t think it is over…” Her gaze was tired and her shoulders were slumped a little by that point. “I… keep getting phone calls. Empty phone calls… I buy new phone and still… they come… I don’t understand it… I pick up the phone and every time I pick it up, all I hear is static. Just… Static… I don’t want to pick up the phone anymore because I know they are calling me.” And as if on cue, the phone lit up again. It had probably done that at least twice while she was talking. She saw the light in her peripheral vision and shook her head, gesturing toward it. “By all means…”
Things were starting to look up for Xavia. She was offered a chance to do a demo tape for a recording studio, she had herself a new job, she was looking for a house in the burbs, and she was starting to make a name for herself. She didn't know if that was a fringe or if that was a bother, that last thing though. Regardless, she was out to celebrate her climbing up the career ladder.
Because her case was still open, both of her bodyguards had insisted on joining her. They probably just wanted an excuse to wear black suits, she thought as the taxi pulled in front of a jazz bar. They both got out in front of her, and then one offered a hand. She took it and was helped from the Taxi, and she leaned in long enough to pay the cabbie. "Keep the change," she said, and then pulled out. The cabbie saluted the blonde and drove off from there. Both of the meatheads flanked her, then, and she made her way toward the entryway.
Inside, she sauntered toward the bar all lanky like, her copper cocktail dress shimmering in the soft light of the establishment, gathering a few glances of admiration on the way to the bar. Of course, she didn't particularly care that people looked at her, they didn't matter to her. She was used to it because of the nature of her mutation. She was beautiful and younger looking than her 27 years, an ethereal sort. And with her make over, she went from being a shy looking dark, to a blonde bombshell, and it wasn't even for the attention.
Hell, she could do without that part. But lots of things had changed about her since her journey. She was toughened up, though still somewhat jumpy, she wasn't as shy, but nor did she scream for someone to come to her. She wasn't running anymore, she was in the spotlight but somehow retained a sense of privacy in her rising popularity as a singer. She was not penniless and homeless anymore, that was for sure.
Xavia sat down on a stool and raised her hand to gain attention from the tender. "Mudslide, please. Start a tab." The man nodded and gave a look of leisure pursuit and turned away to make her drink. She rolled her eyes and turned around, leaning back casually, tucking her purse under her arm while she swept her eyes over the interior.
She already knew there would probably be nothing familiar about the place, nor the faces that milled about. "You may mingle," she said to her bodyguards without looking at them, her Eastern European accent somewhat thick tonight. As she watched them retreat, she breathed in a sigh of relief, having felt a bit overcrowded. Thank god.
Many apologies for never posting when I am taking time off. It is not because I do not want to, it is because I am very sickly. I have to pace myself and never expect to know when I am going to be ill, unfortunately. Right now I am in the middle of a very rough patch, but I am still wanting to post every now and then. I appreciate any and all patience for my delays.
Speaking of, here is an update: I have been going to the doctor at least on a weekly basis in the last two months alone. They are still not settled on a diagnosis, I am being tested for everything under the sun. There is a possibility of surgery. I am okay for the most part, but sometimes very very weak.
