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.
Unlike Calley, Sonya had not spent her adolescence as a housecat.
She had, in fact, spent those years in high school... specifically in an urban New York high school where "social interaction" -- at least, of a certain variety -- placed higher than most academic subjects on the List of Interesting Things for almost everyone. And while Sonya was by no means the most popular girl in school or anything, she had certainly picked up a few things, by osmosis if nothing else... including, but not limited to, How To Tell When A Boy's Palms Are Sweating... even if he's sitting on them.
Neat! And not only in the sense that it's always nice to get that sort of reaction from a cute boy, but also in the far more practical sense that the more Calley concentrates on the boy/girl thing, the more likely he is to trust her.
> “You know, I don’t know. It’s kind of high-tech… I’ll have to ask him sometime. > Better than tinkering with it. Tinkering leads to breaking, breaking leads to > something-something…”
She laughs and nods. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. My little sister took our television apart, once. It didn't end well for anyone... least of all the television. Still... maybe you could ask him? I mean, not to insult the Zelda pendant in any way -- I think it's great to show off your own tastes, no matter what anyone else thinks -- but it never hurts to explore options, right? You never know, you might enjoy it."
> “I just have kinda more money than I know what to do with, sometimes. > Can you tell I don’t really spend much time here? "
"Well, now that you mention it: yes, I can. You may be the strangest boy I've ever met, Mr. Tiger Calley Friend-of-Technomancers-and-Llama-Kidnappers, but even you must get mail sometimes... not to mention, you know, listen to music or watch TV or do something with your time other than eat and read the occassional paperback." She waves her hand around the room to indicate the distinct lack of any sign of such activity, then shrugs. "Besides which, you already said you were spending most of your time partying with the 'cool kids' and were looking for someone to catsit, remember?"
> I mostly just come here when > I’m avoiding people. And to feed my cat. Not that I, umm, avoid people. Much.”
"Clearly not... not if you're willing to invite a complete stranger to your apartment to take care of a cat who isn't even here." She smirks just a little, then continues: "I guess hanging out with all those llama-kidnappers can get pretty tiresome after a while."
> “So, what have you been doing since the raid? Were you there for it? > I kinda missed it, what with the being elsewhere at the time, and all.”
Sonya hesitates for a second, and reminds herself that she really needs to prepare stories for situations like these if she's going to keep up the multiple-identities thing. Still, she recovers smoothly enough -- "Well, I guess now that you've shown me yours, I suppose I can trust you... even if you are a mysteriously wealthy teenager with mysterious friends, right? I was almost there, to tell you the truth. A block or so away, on my way, when those... things attacked. Amp and Vibe were there, right out front on the street... they'd been shopping, or something. And then there were machines, and police, and guns... and --"
She doesn't need to fake the feeling of shame on her face when she ends the sentence. "I ran away. Far and fast. I guess that's pretty much what I've been doing since... running, and trying to find someplace safe."
> “Isn’t it shiny and nifty? It shifts with me! A friend of mine made it for me. > He’s either a technomancer or a genius human. Not sure which. > Be nice if he’d made some clothes for me, instead…”
"Yeah, I guess that'd be pretty useful, huh? No more having to strip in front of girls you just met." she grins up into Calley's blushing face and adds "Though maybe not as entertaining..." with an entirely straight face before walking away towards the couch.
> “So which do you like better—the studded collar or the Triforce? And, umm, sorry if I scared you. > With the tiger-ly-ness. And the erratic pouncing and jumping.”
She nods agreeably, perching on the back of the couch before answering. "It's OK, really. I was just startled. I mean, you did say you could do that, I just... it's different to really see it, you know? The tigerliness, I mean. The erratic behavior I'm starting to get used to." She chuckles at that. "As for which I like better... well, I guess it depends on what you're wearing with it, I suppose. Does it only switch when you do, or can you make it look like a collar in your boy-form? That would be... interesting."
Which, she admits to herself, it actually would be. To be honest, the flirting with Calley had primarily been intended to keep him off-balance, but it's turning into a surprising amount of fun in its own right.
"So, this technomancer friend of yours... does he pay the rent for this place too?"
Sonya peeks through the crack in the door as a half-ton of tiger transforms to tailless teen. Several thoughts run through her mind at that point.
Wow... so that's what it looks like, huh? I'd expected something more spectacular. is one of them. She's undergone hundreds of similar transformations, of course, but she's never seen it from the outside, and she'd expected something more like special effects in the movies. Instead, it's almost imperceptible: the tiger is gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by a scrawny teenage boy wearing nothing but a pendant.
So thin! is another. For a boy with what she's observed of Calley's dietary habits, he is remarkably scrawny... she can practically count his ribs! Of course, that's not too uncommon for a teenage boy's metabolism, but it's still remarkable... and on further thought, even more so, given his powers. He can obviously change his mass when he shifts; why wouldn't he carry pretty much whatever weight he wants to? Well, maybe he likes to be thin... or maybe it just doesn't work that way.
I want one! is another. The pendant around Calley's neck had been a black leather studded collar a second earlier, just as she'd suspected. She hadn't thought anything like that was possible, but now she knows it is she's flushed with envy. It would come in very handy, a garment that changed its appearance when she did.
Though apparently it's not as general-purpose as she would like, since he has to get dressed like any other guy -- one leg at a time. She watches as he changes into the fancier clothes from his closet and pockets the chew-toy, then busies herself with flipping through one of the stray paperbacks as the bedroom door opens behind her.
She gives a low, approving whistle as she turns around to look at him. "Hey, you clean up nice, Calley!" She walks over and runs her finger along his collar, then hooks it under his pendant and pulls it up out of the shirt. "So what happened to the studded collar?"
Had someone asked Sonya, prior to this moment, what her reaction to an intimidatingly voluminous tiger doing a remarkable imitation of a gleeful housecat would be, she'd have guessed "frightened". Had whoever that was further clarified the hypothetical by explaining that the tiger in question was, hypothetically, playing enthusiastically with a lime green squeaky plastic hedgehog, she's pretty sure her answer would have stayed the same.
She'd have been wrong, though... her actual reaction is far closer to "bewildered." Especially when the scream-and-leap (without, admittedly, the actual scream) turns into some strange wheezing respiratory thing; she's about to ask him if he's OK when it is replaced by purring. I never knew tigers could purr... neat!
"Um... well, I guess that answers that question, then," she adds, getting something like her equilibrium back. "Chew toy. I suppose I should have guessed that." There's something contagious about the sheer glee with which Calley-tiger mauls his plastic hedgehog prey, and the urge to rub his belly competes with the phobic desire to avoid any contact with animals, though it ultimately loses.
Of course, the way the tiger-head hangs upside-down off the edge of the bed is also a bit disquieting, showing disturbingly sharp teeth above -- well, in this case below -- the black studded collar and the tawny fur. Man... those could really do a lot of damage if he'd want-- wait, wait, back up. Collar? Sonya can't remember whether Calley was wearing anything around his neck or not, but she's pretty sure she'd have noticed a black leather studded tiger collar.
Now that's interesting. Clothing that shifts along with you... I could use that, myself!
"That's very cute. I bet your cats love it, too. But I'll let you change back to human form now..." She gets up and walks back into the living-room, closing the door most of the way behind her... after all, she'll probably get more coherent answers to her questions if she lets him shift back to a form that can talk.
Sonya wasn't sure what to expect when she strode into Calley's bedroom... after all, taking liberties with a tiger isn't the safest of activities, ordinarily... but she relaxes a little when he seems to take it in stride. She's not quite sure what an offended expression on a tiger would look like, necessarily, but the glare she gets from over his tail seems like a pretty plausible candidate; still, he doesn't seem upset by it... no growling or anything.
OK, then. Let's see how far I can take this... "So... let's see what the well-dressed tiger is wearing this year, shall we?" She starts rummaging around the room, making a whole production out of it, narrating as she goes along in what is quite possibly the worst Robin Leach impression ever assayed by mortal man. "Well, viewers, it appears Tiger Boy is a dedicated boxers fan," she croons as she opens a dresser drawer full of them, then pauses briefly when the next drawer turns out to hold dress pants before adding "-- but he does like to dress up on occassion! The sweatpants and T-shirt look is just to fit in at the local McDonald's, it would seem... a tiger of the people, is our friend Calley. Quite lovely, quite lovely..."
All of which is actually something of a surprise, she decides as she saunters to the closet. I guess this really is his apartment, after all... a Sanctuary safehouse would have different stuff in it. The clothes do seem to be sized to fit him, and they're the only clothes here. But there's still no way someone like him who can afford to pay rent here wouldn't fill it with every funky gadget he can find... unless the whole impulsive-little-boy thing is just an act? Which is possible, but on the whole she prefers her "kept boy" theory..
The closet holds suit jackets and dress shirts, consistent with the dress pants in the dresser and nothing else about the kid. "...but by day he affords a conservative, stylish look, combining European charm with New World boisterousness." She doesn't really know what she's saying, but as far as she's ever been able to tell during all the hours her mom made her watch that stupid show, that makes no difference. "But without question, viewers, the most intriguing aspect of this Tiger Boy's lifestyle is AAAAK!"
She'd been trying to figure out what on earth all the pillows are doing crammed in the closet when he moves like a tiger-striped blur; by the time she screams and pulls back he's already sitting back down on the floor, exposing what she can only assume is the tiger equivalent of a smug grin. She doesn't have a lot of time to study it before she trips backward over the thick carpet, landing relatively harmlessly in a sitting position with her back against the wall.
"Ow!" she cries involuntarily, then blinks at the memory of Calley's teeth; the absurdity of complaining about a mild bruise when he could just as easily have severed her arm at the shoulder suddenly overwhelms her, and she starts giggling rather helplessly. "OK... (giggle) you win. You can (sporfle!) keep the (hee!) boxers. Just one (snort) more question... what is up with the (hah!) hedgehog?"
She points shakily at the lime-green squeaky hedgehog sitting at the head of the bed, which she'd been working her way around to before her performance was interrupted by tiger-speed. It is, after all, the only thing in the room that resembles a personal artifact of any sort; she's curious about it.
Sonya's last several months have been filled with events she'd never thought possible, and the truth is she's growing rather accustomed to it.
So when the scary tiger curls itself into a tiny ball and peeks at her over its tail, somehow managing the remarkable feat of becoming almost cuddly, she mostly takes it in stride. And the little head nod/shake gestures are downright cute, and it's clear he's trying not to scare her. So she untenses slightly and lets herself move a little closer to him... not quite taking a step closer, but no longer backing up quite so uncomfortably against the furniture.
When he points inquiringly towards the bedroom, Sonya replies in an amused voice "I already told you, I'm not that kind of girl... not when we've only just met, anyway!" But she is curious about the bedroom, and whether it has the distinguishing characteristics the rest of the apartment lacks, so she takes the opportunity to walk into it and turn on the lights.
The clothes piled up near the bed look predictably familiar, except for the red flannel boxers, which she picks up and makes a show of inspecting -- "Boxers, huh? Funny, I would have pegged you as a briefs boy..." -- before looking around the room.
Calley seems somewhat impressed by her little show-and-tell session, which is a relief, though it also seems to make him extremely nervous. Well, that shouldn't be too surprising... I did just stab myself, after all. Maybe he doesn't like blood.
> “Yeah... shifting. That’s going to involve a minor bit of nudity, > what with me not trying to destroy these clothes, so I’m just > going to go over... there. Back in a bit.”
Sonya tries not to laugh at Calley's sudden bout of clothing-related embarassment, almost successfully... she doesn't really manage a serious face, but she does keep the merriment down to a mostly stifled snorfle. "Wow, you really do know how to cut to the chase; I'm impressed. But I warn you, if the lights dim and mood music starts playing I'm out of here. A girl's got to have standards, after all."
On consideration, she decides she likes the fact that he blushes. It's a normal teenage-boy reaction to a situation that could really use an infusion of "normal". And she does contemplate peeking through the crack in the door, if only out of simple curiosity -- well, OK, complicated curiosity -- but the truth is, between her experiences with gender-swapping and the amount of time she's spent in locker rooms of both sexes since arriving in Manhattan, her curiosity about male anatomy has been mostly satisfied for the forseeable future.
It also occurs to her that looking around his apartment while he's off changing clothes -- or, rather, removing them -- would be a clever thing to do... but the truth is she's not sure what to look for, and she's nervous about being caught, so she ends up doing not much more than looking around surfaces for some clue as to what this guy is all about.
At first, she doesn't see anything especially interesting... then it occurs to her that that very absence is interesting. No mail. No newspapers. No TV. No computer. No music. No art. A few books scattered about, but no bookshelves. It's more like a generic hotel room than someone's actual house... well, a hotel room that never gets cleaned, anyway. And anyone who can afford the rent on a Central Park-facing apartment can afford gadgets... so either Calley's an ascetic, which the junk food belies, or there's something weird about his living here. Is he squatting? No, the power works, that's not it. Unless he's hacked the electrical grid, but again, a hacker would have gadgets. She tentatively concludes that this isn't actually Calley's primary residence... just someplace he keeps his cat. Or cats. Which makes him either so stupidly rich he doesn't even think about money, or it means he's got a, um, patron.
Neither seems quite right... he's cute enough to be a kept boy, maybe, but seems too squirrely to maintain the pose for very long. Well, maybe it's connected to Sanctuary... if I were running a home for wayward mutants, I'd keep a few safehouses not many people knew about all over the place. But she'd concluded earlier that Calley wasn't enough of a Sanctuary insider to know about that sort of thing. Oh well. Just another piece of the puzzle, I guess.
The big cat that pads into the living room from the bedroom terminates her train of thought and nearly makes her jump off her feet. "Gah! You're huge!" She's relieved by the way the tiger sits calmly, but she still puts some distance between them. Part of that, admittedly, is her animal phobia coming to the fore -- even though she suspects that this particular tiger-form wouldn't make her stupid -- but most of it is just that the creature in front of her is physically intimidating as hell.
"So... you're Calley, then? I bet you and Sara get along just fine, huh? Can you talk when you look like that?"
(( OOC: 1) I'm making some guesses here about what Sonya can see based on the tone of your earlier description; seems friendlier than making you describe it all in detail. Let me know if I'm off-base and I'll fix.
2) This will potentially become relevant in a later post... Calley: boxers or briefs?
3) I haven't planned ahead at all, actually... playing by ear. So it won't be too big a deal for me to avoid whatever directions you're going in. ISYMiYSMY over PM works for me. ))
(( ooc: nah, no mod necessary... I figured it was probably something like that, which is why I ignored it IC. handwave handwave handwave, moving on. and yeah, I'm enjoying their power similarities, though I hadn't realized we'd duplicated the thought-process behind it... even cooler! Maybe we should coordinate one of these days so we don't grow too similar over time... or, conversely, maybe work out a shared origin story... I still have no idea what Sonya's real background is. ))
(( OOC: Sure, ffwding to the apt is cool... Sonya's playing this all by ear anyway.))
Sonya tries, mostly unsuccessfully, to conceal her nervousness as Calley leads her to his apartment. She's really not at all sure what's going to happen next... for all she knows, he's really an insane serial killer looking for his next victim.
Oh, come on, she berates herself. That's just being paranoid!
But the more time she spends with Calley, the less sure she is about that. There's something not quite right about the boy, though she can't quite put her finger on what it is. Still, doesn't matter. He's my only connection to Sanctuary... he can be as crazy as he wants and I still have to keep him talking.
> “He’s with one of my friends, right now. Do you like cats? I’m a fan.”
Well, that explains the lack of cat, anyway. Sonya's relieved: she'd been steeling herself to deal with the inevitable "oh hi you don't like cats so let me be affectionate" cat-thing without giving away her animal phobia to Calley -- too much chance of him making the connection to Sonny -- but it's good to have that particular challenge fade away into nothing.
She shrugs in response to the question, adding "They're all right. I'm not really an animal lover, to be honest. Too messy. Not as bad as babies, but still." Probably not a great way to endear herself to her new friend... somehow, cat people always seem to judge everyone else by how much they like cats... but probably better than pretending to like them and getting caught out later in the lie.
> “So, ah, in case you didn’t catch it from my obscure wording earlier, > I’m a tiger shifter. And I can heal, some. "
Sonya had actually remembered the tiger-shifting thing from their last meeting on the walk to his apartment, but decided it was best to pretend otherwise... and the healing was a genuine surprise in either case. "Oh! That sounds pretty useful... the healing, I mean... though, I guess, the tiger thing, too. I mean, in a fight, or something."
> "And Syn and Abyss and Overcast and Vibe and some other > people are fine, but Isabel and Amp and Sonya and Sonny and > some other people aren’t—we think they got shipped to the camps, > so at least they’re alive. Don’t know how many of them you knew."
(( OOC: Um... "Sonya"? Has Sonya actually used her real name around Calley? Or is there another 'Sonya' floating around? Or is that an oops? Not responding to that yet, but if Calley is actually using her real name Sonya's gonna quietly freak. Let me know.))
"Yeah, I guess Abyss would be pretty hard to take down, huh? Glad he's OK. Syn, too." Ordinarily she'd leave it at that, but Sonya recognizes a credential-swap when she hears one, and nods. OK, I'll play...
"I don't think I met Isabel or Overcast, though there were a lot of people and it's hard to keep track... especially with the gang nicknames everybody seems to use. But there was the girl with the bone-weapon things, I remember her... is she OK? And the cat-girl... Sara? Sally? Something like that. Oh, and the pyrokinetic boy... I never learned his name."
(( OOC: the pyro is an NPC I introduced during "Sonny's" escape from Sanctuary. Captured.))
She pauses for a moment, then adds "Sonny -- that was the hunky guy, right? Never did find out what his mutation was... he seemed nice, though. Even if he was totally obsessed with Syn's body." Oddly, it's not difficult at all for her to fake annoyance over 'Sonny's' hormone-drenched fawning over Syn, even though it was herself doing it... it feels like someone else, really. Boys are different, she realizes, not for the first time.
"And Amp and Vibe are the twins, right? They seemed nice... wait, they got separated? That... that's got to be hard for them." Not that Sonya had had much time to get to know them before the raid, but their closeness was obvious to even casual observation. "Is Vibe OK?"
> "I mostly just saw them around, when I visited Isabel. I’m her boyfriend.”
Sonya nods, her "tagalong boyfriend" theory reaffirmed. "Oh... so you weren't really part of Sanctuary, then? Guess that's why I never saw you there... not that I met everyone, either."
> “And no offense or anything, but I’ve got to know you really are a > mutant before I say anything else. I’m probably maybe actually not > supposed to be away from where everyone else is, right now. Errhm, > so, what are your powers?”
Sonya laughs. "What, we only trust other mutants, now? Well, I guess that makes some sense given how things are. But, you know, it's not like you've proved you're a mutant, either... just talked about it. And it is a little weird that you just up and started talking about Sanctuary to a complete stranger, don't you think?" She raises a challenging eyebrow in Calley's direction as she gets up and walks into the kitchen, rolling her sleeve up to her elbow as she does so.
She's given some thought to this moment on the walk to the apartment, and hit upon a different "power" she can demonstrate without giving away her real ability... which she's still not willing to do, except maybe to Syn if she can get in touch with her. "But, OK... I guess I can go first. I'm a little like you, I guess. I can heal some. Just myself, though." I wonder if that's a coincidence... or can all shapeshifters heal? That would make sense, I guess... healing's just another kind of shapeshifting. It still feels weird thinking of herself as a "shapeshifter", or for that matter a "mutant", but it's getting easier.
She rummages through Calley's kitchen for a little while, looking for a knife or scissors or something sharp. Finding one, she places her arm over the sink and slices it quickly across the skin of her arm, hissing under her breath at the pain, and makes sure Calley sees the cut and the blood pouring into the sink.
OK, here goes, she thinks to herself, and shifts into the same template she's already wearing. She's learned, in experimenting with her abilities over the last few months, that physical injuries repair themselves when she shifts from one form to another... she's betting that the same trick works when she shifts into the same form she started out with.
Which, to her relief, it does. The blood doesn't disappear, of course, but she can feel the stinging of the cut go away when she shifts. She runs the water over her arm and demonstrates the uninjured skin. "See?"
She puts the bloody knife down on the counter and stares at Calley. "But, OK... if we're playing I'll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours, now it's your turn. Tiger, huh? That'd be cool to see."
Although she won't realize it until the next morning, this little experiment has also taught her a new facet of her powers... namely, the ability to keep a template "live" in her cellular memory for more than a couple of days by shifting into it regularly.
Sonya’s eyes go wide at that, despite her attempt to seem nonchalant, and her struggles to find something to say grow more and more difficult as her fear of giving herself away competes with her fear of losing his interest… especially now that she knows Sanctuary survived in some form.
Well, that’s assuming I can trust this guy. He seemed nice enough at Sanctuary, but not really an insider… does he really know anything, or is he just puffing himself up?
Before she can quite figure out what to say, though, Calley has started talking again.
> “You know, you are entirely correct. We shouldn’t be talking about the talent show […] in public; […] That apartment I was telling you about? It’s four blocks from here. Guaranteed-non-bugged for reasons of complexity and llama kidnappers who look after their own. So we can go there and have a show-and-tell, or I can walk you home and say ‘goodnight’.”
She laughs, equal parts nervousness and – well, no, on second thought, almost entirely nervousness. “Wow… way to cut to the chase, Calley! Does that approach get you a lot of girls?”
Humor aside, though, his offer (or should that be “offer”?) certainly clarifies the question… and simplifies her answer. Because, sure, he might be some kind of mutant-hunting psychopath or God only knows what, and there’s no reason for her to believe him about the room not being bugged, and he might not really know anything at all about Sanctuary or anything else… she’d had him pegged as the tagalong boyfriend when they last met, and nothing since then has made her change her mind. All of that is true.
But then again, he might be able to put her in touch with Syn. And that’s a better chance than she’s had so far, and she’s not going to let it fade away without taking it.
“Well, the night’s way too early for ‘goodnight’, don’t you think? And the ‘show and tell’ certainly sounds intriguing. So lead on, my brave caballero… just remember, I’m allergic to llamas.”
And, she reminds herself, not too crazy about cats. But she can’t let that little fact slip… too much chance of Calley making the connection between her and “Sonny.” Which reminds her… “Oh! I’m Teresa, by the way.” She extends a hand again, feeling a little awkward about it since they’ve already shaken hands, but not sure what else to do.
> “Would that thing-in-common be the tiny little trivial fact that you are a mutant? > ‘Cause from what I saw, Syn didn’t much associate with the human residents > of Sanctuary. And she certainly didn’t invite more non-special-people into her little club.”
Sonya hadn't even known there were non-mutant residents at Sanctuary, and a tiny part of her mind files the information away while the majority of it tries to figure out how to cope with the unexpected success of her gambit.
> “So, what’s your talent? Personally, I do a striped roaring zoo impersonation. Fry?”
"No, I can't -- oh. 'Fry.' Right. Um, thanks." She takes another French fry and munches it thoughtfully while her mind races. 'Striped roaring zoo impersonation?' What does that even mean? She files that question away, too, concentrating on how to reply.
She'd known this question was coming, after all, but she still isn't sure how to handle it. She can just refuse to answer, but that seems like a mistake. Absurdly, this conversation reminds her of all the secretive little hallway chats during her senior year about who was dating who... and she realizes it's the same kind of game, the trading of confidences and little secrets and misleading hints, it's just that the stakes are a lot higher. The trick is to not answer it without shutting him down completely.
She settles on shy/nervous but irresistably interested, the sort of thing that usually keeps boys hooked. "Well, um... I'm not sure that's the sort of thing we should be talking about in public, really... especially not these days. You never know what kinds of ears are floating around, you know?" She looks up and down the relatively deserted street with a nervousness she doesn't have to fake and adds, in a tone of hushed confidence. "But, well, yeah, her interest in, you know, 'special' people did kinda have something to do with it."
As he steps away from her she looks him over again and adds, with a hint of interest she also doesn't have to fake, "So... you're 'special' too, huh? I guess that explains why you know her. Not that it makes any difference now, I guess, with Sanctuary kinda, well, gone."
The boy seems distracted by something -- probably by trying to figure out who she is and why she's talking to him -- but still maintains a casual air. That's interesting.
And he doesn't take the "dinner-and-a-movie" bait, and she wonders what that means... distracted? Shy? Doesn't like her? Doesn't like girls? It's equal parts disappointment and relief: on the one hand, she'd hoped to distract him, perhaps get more information out of him by flirting... on the other hand, she didn't want to get herself into anything she wouldn't be able to handle. Plus, he actually is cute, she reminds herself... not everything is about playing junior spy, after all.
> “So, Syn herself recommended you to the Sanctuary? I wonder why. Was it for the talent show?”
"Well, she wasn't real clear about her reasons. I kinda got the impression she prefers asking questions to answering them, y'know?"
It grows clearer and clearer to Sonya that this conversation is leaving as much unsaid as said, and the former set seems by far the more interesting. Which isn't at all surprising, really, and reinforces her growing sense that she really ought to know what she's trying to accomplish before she initiates these sorts of conversations. Some day, I'm going to have a plan.
Calley is suspicious, that much is fairly obvious. That, also, isn't at all surprising... she would be too, if a stranger popped up and started quizzing her on Sanctuary out of nowhere. And he'd pretty much just asked her if she was a mutant. Which she wouldn't mind revealing to him, really, but then he'd want to know what her mutation was. She could use the same line she'd given Syn and Abyss, about being able to detect mutations... but then he might make the connection between her and "Sonny." Of course, she could also tell him the truth, but... well, she's reluctant to do that. It's clear that these people are playing for high stakes, and she doesn't know who the players are.
Well... she doesn't have to answer, does she? It's not like any of the mutants she'd met at Sanctuary had told her what their abilities were... she can just claim it's private. But she has to give up something to stay in the game, here, and she can't take too long to think about it without raising even more suspicions. "I guess... well, I guess she thought we had something in common, know what I mean? She thought I might, um, fit in." There. That wasn't giving away too much, but it threw some chips on the table. Now it's his turn to call or fold. At least, she hopes that's how the game works... it seems to work that way on television.
> “Syn? Black hair, red highlights, about my height, cute face beneath the > constant dragon scowl? I saw her around a little, but can’t say I was best > buds with her. How did you know her?”
“Did? You make it sound like she’s --” Sonya stops short, remembering the wreckage, and blurts out “Is she OK?” before realizing she’s reading way too much into the choice of past tense. “Um, sorry. It’s been a tense few days. Anyway… it’s not that I know her all that well myself… we only met a couple of times. It’s just that she’d recommended Sanctuary as a place I could go, like you were about to. Except then Sanctuary got kinda, well, not so much a place people go, and she’s gone, and I hear a bunch of residents got arrested, and I don’t know what’s going on… and I don’t know why I’m even talking to you about this stuff, it’s not your problem. It’s just that you brought the place up, and I thought maybe you knew how to reach her. Never mind, it doesn’t matter.”
> “Actually, I was thinkin’ my apartment.”
“Oh-ho! That kind of creepy. Um, no, thanks. I mean, you’re cute, but my momma didn’t raise me to move in with cute boys I just met.” She looks him over for a second and adds with a grin “You could talk me into dinner and a movie, though.”
> “I’m thinkin’ you might be party material, though. ‘Cept that only the cool kids are invited. Are you cool, Miss...?”
Sonya shrugs, ignoring the prompt and answering the question. “You ask me, anyone who talks about how cool she is ain’t cool, you know? I’m up for a party, though. Especially if they’re not serving Big Macs.” She can’t quite decide how serious he’s being, and how much of this is metaphorical, and how much is just plain goofy, so she decides to stick with literal for now.
> “I’m Calley, by the way. Pleasure to have a midnight stroll with you.”
She takes his hand, and is unsurprised to establish that he’s a mutant… though she’s a little surprised to note something familiar about his genetic structure. She can’t place the familiarity, but it nags at the back of her mind just the same. “Nice to meet you too, Calley. Thanks for the fry.”
Sonya blinks at Calley’s reference to Sanctuary… not that it ought to surprise her, since she’s fully aware of his connection to the place, but it does. She’d expected to have to drag the conversation around to the subject.
She’s not really sure whether she should respond or not, and makes another mental note to herself to have some kind of plan in mind before trying to do this covert-identity contact thing… playing it by ear only takes her so far. (Granted, it’s not like she’d planned to run into Calley in the first place… still, she’s going to have to get better at this.)
Ultimately she decides it’s as good an opportunity as any to bring up the subject she’s actually interested in. “Um… well, yeah, now that you mention it… Sanctuary is where I was intending to go, before they shut it down. That’s where my friends were.” She takes a deep breath and adds “Really, I’m trying to get in touch with a woman named Syn, who used to live there. But I don’t know how to find her, now. So…” she shrugs one-armed. “Like I said, nowhere much to be. Sure, I can afford a hotel room, but all I can do there is sleep, you know?”
Curiosity nags at her, though, and she adds “So what’s this creepy-sounding place of yours? Is that where the drug-free llama-kidnappers party is?”
Sonya remembers the boy as an odd one from their brief encounter; apparently that wasn’t a transient attribute. If anything, he seems to be making a production out of it, like a clown or something. Which is interesting. Not terribly helpful, granted, but interesting. She wonders what his story is, whether the clownishness is a cover for something, or just the way he is, or what.
> “You just won a french fry. Or would you like a burger? I’ve got a lot of burgers. Personally, I was out on a fast food run. So now I ask you, as you have kindly permitted me to: ‘What brings a lovely lady like yourself out onto relatively abandoned streets at this hour?’”
“Lack of anywhere else to be,” she replies, honestly enough. “I was supposed to stay with some friends, but that… um… kinda blew up in my face.” The literal truth of that makes her laugh again, albeit somewhat bitterly, and it occurs to her that she hasn’t laughed this much in months. Apparently the clownishness is contagious.
“Yeah, you really do have a lot of burgers,” she adds as she takes a French fry out of the offered carton, hoping to distract attention from her own reasons for being here. She looks him up and down appraisingly and continues, with just enough of a grin to make it clear that she’s teasing: “And you don’t seem nearly chubby enough to eat that much on a regular basis. Are you on your way to a party? Smoke too much weed and have the munchies? Paying a late-night ransom to the world’s worst kidnapper? Planning to lock yourself in with your girlfriend for the next twenty-four hours? Boyfriend? Llama? My curiosity knows no bounds.”
