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.
Ethan didn't step backward, though he sincerely wanted to. He didn't miss the eye twitching, but it only added to the ridiculousness of Jemmenai's appearance. Blue hair and streaked face, purple bunny slippers and robe? For cryin' out loud, she looked like a crazed, walking, Easter marshmallow bunny! A crazed Marshmallow buny that had been known to bite when aggravated. Literally. And she was looking really aggravated.....
"It's a good shade for you, Sir. Miss.... erm...." She wasn't looking less aggravated, but the noise in the room seemed to distract her. When she whirled back, he took to his heels and scooted out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. Let the mutie take most of the sting....
Neena watched him go, snorting slightly. Jemmanai grabbed the vacuum.
“Excuse me. We were talking. Are you the two sent to clean the rooms today?”
"Two?" She looked around pointedly. Then added, "I guess I'm considered the night crew." She shrugged. "Um.... did I miss something?"
“I don’t want your filthy hands touching me.” A rather ironic statement, since the woman lashed out and grabbed her arm. Neena decided to stick with the 'play dumb' card for the moment. She regarded her restrained hand with a curious frown.
"Well, I'm sure I can find some sanitizer somewhere. And some glov-"
“What was that Ethan?” The woman whirled on Neena's escort, sending him fumbling for words. “Hmmmm?”
“I was just thinking ho your hair looks like the color of that blue Easter grass. Sir,… I mean Miss… I mean… ahhhhh”
Neena could barely keep her composure, and turned away, clearing her throat. There were so many bad egg puns in that simple statement......
She attempted to pull her arm back, so she could continue on with her vacuuming, and hopefully cover her laughter with the roar.
“What are you looking at! Is there something odd that you are going oh my about?”
The woman shut the door on Ethan, who's jaw had dropped. Neena blinked a couple of times.
“Well?!”
The corner of her mouth twitched. She hadn't expected to deal with this situation quite so quickly. The little dye bottle had been emptied into the shampoo bottle, and disposed of in one of the trash bags outside. Buried, maybe. But still well within finding distance. Her hand was wrapped around the vacuum handle, hiding her dye-spattered fingertips. For now.
Neena bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. Unfortunately, she couldn't completely hide her personality.
"You, uh.... have something on your face.... Ma'am." She reached out for a towel with her free hand. "Would you like me to remove it?"
Neena emerged from a room down the hall, dropped a giant bag of trash besides two others, and grunted a bit under the weight. Then she went back in to finish up with the vacuuming.
Halfway through the task her ears caught the sound of something strange out in the hall. She shut off the machine and listened. There was some loud banging out in the hallway, but that wasn't the sound she'd heard. Shrugging, she turned the vacuum back on and continued.
Then she heard it again. Frowning curiously, she again paused to listen. This time she heard two people shouting at each other, a couple doors down. She recognized James' voice, but no the other. She shook her head and again resumed her cleaning, bending down to check the cracks. She hated cleaning, but she enjoyed being clean. Plus there was a little space in between the wall and nightstand, just large enough to secret a piece of cheese or fish, and let it rot. And it just so happened that this room's occupants were on her 'list'. And she also just happened to know that one of them had a very sensitive nose and a rather strong gag reflex. Lovely combo....
Less than a minute later the door to her location slammed open, loud enough to be heard over the vacuum. Neena straighted. She didn't have her glasses on since she was indoors. Though she wasn't surprised at what she saw, she still moved both eyebrows upwards, as if she were.
"Oh my...." She trailed off. In her head she added, <"So this is Jemanai.">
(OOC: Jumping ahead with the rest of Camp activities.)
Neena sighed inwardly. There were times when she really, really wished that she could experience fear. It might prevent her from doing some rather stupid things. Well, maybe not stupid, necessarily. Rash might be more appropriate. Or half-baked. Hair-brained? Maybe even foolish....
"All right, we'll stick with stupid," she murmured under her breath, then sighed. "Oh well."
And she continued right on with her sabotage. Today's agenda included, among other things, spiking a bottle of shampoo with neon blue dye. It was proving a rather difficult task to accomplish, due to the quirks of the owner of the shampoo bottle.
Neena frowned a bit to herself. What kind of woman doesn't keeps her hair care products in the bathroom? Hairspray, okay. Even styling gel, sure. But shampoo and conditioner? Those belong on the edge of the tub or shower, not next to the TV.....
Cleaning the Barracks gave the African-born woman opportunity to subtly make life difficult for some of the more 'rambunctous' guards in the Camps, scoring minor revenge for some of the indignities suffered by many of the girls. The current version was a rather mysterious, and painful, rash affecting many of the guards' nether regions. Jemanai was a name Neena had been hearing frequently lately, by both mutants and some of the male guards. Neena hadn't actually run across the white-haired woman yet, but all she'd heard about her was not pleasant. Thus, she was added to Neena's 'list', starting with a new do for her hair.
However, the problems presenting themselves were stacking up. Problem Number One: Jemanai kept her shampoo and conditioner in the main room, where Neena's every move was watched, either by security cameras or her escort. The later was outside smoking, fortunately. Neena had resorted to her clumsiness, knocking the bottle under the bed with her hips. She'd crawled after it, and was presented with Problem Number Two.
There was very little room under the bed, and th dye bottle was stuck inside her makeshift bra, pressed firmly against the ground. Neena huffed. It took some struggling to get it out, and in the process the lid popped off, spilling several drops on her fingertips and on the carpet.
<"Lovely.... Just lovely....">
The blue dye didn't stand out horribly against her dark skin, but it was still visible. And rather obvious on the floor. It wouldn't take a genius to connect the pair of squirming legs to the blue dot under the bed. And from there it wouldn't be a huge leap to connect her with some of the other stunts being pulled.....
Neena sighed and unscrewed the top of the bottle. If she was going to get caught anyway, may as well go through with her plan.
-------------------------------
Twenty minutes later Neena emerged, and headed to the next room, under her escort's less-than-watchful eye. Her hand was conveniently tangled in a pile of dirty bedsheets.
(OOC: Open for all guards, mutants with cleaning duty and other camp personnel.)
Then Men's and Women's camp were separated by double fences. Located in the space between camps, behind the Main Office/Infirmary and in front of the Mess Hall, was the Guards Barracks. Due to the nature of the camp residents, the Guard Barracks had a bit more security than the rest of the buildings, save the Main Office and Infirmary.
Compared to the Mutant Barracks, the Guards' quarters wallowed in luxury. Set up more like a motel than barracks, each guard was granted a private room, complete with twin bed, closet and chest, a TV, and a desk. Each room required an electronic keycard to unlock it, as did the main gate of the barracks. It was not completely his or hers, as the guards changed shifts every week, but it was much more private than the mutants.
On opposite sides of the Barracks were gender separate locker rooms, with private lockers for those who wished, as well as bathrooms and showers.
The most secure part of the Barracks was the Armory, only accessible by not just a keycard, but a valid fingerprint as well. The government fully expected riots and hostilities within the mutant ranks; in their opinions mutants lived for violence and knew nothing else. Therefore the Armory held enough riot gear to arm a small army. Everything from stun guns, tranq snipers and tear gas grenades to the more intense gear could be found. While nothing of overt deadliness was stocked, due to liability for unnecessary death and other such bureauocratic, red-tape nonsense, they conveniently ignored the questionable backgrounds and mental instability of some of the guards. Add in the Stalker bots that roamed the camp locale, and the govermentals assumed that the camps were 'well supervised'.
Any mutants who drew cleaning duty had to be escorted by a guard, preferably two, all during cleaning. Considering most of the guards would rather be harrassing the inmates, often escort duty fell as a version of punishment to the least liked of the guards, thus making it doubly difficult for the mutants.
(OOC: Okay, jumping this thread ahead the 7 weeks to keep in sync with the rest of the board.)
Neena entered the kitchen with her arms piled high with aprons and dishcloths, an empty laundry basket strapped to her back. The head 'chef', Betsy, as usual was bellowing at one of the kitchen workers.
"I SAID GARLIC POWDER, NOT GRANULATED, YOU IMBECILE!!" The chunky woman lifted a bowl containing pureed tomatoes, and overturned it on the head of a cringing young teenager. "START OVER!!!" The boy skittered to obey, moving as fast as he could, heading toward the pantry and the canned goods. Betsy shouted after him, "MESS UP AGAIN AND ITS LEMON JUICING AND ORANGE PEELING FOR A WEEK!!!" Considering the young mutant was allergic to citrus fruits, the threat held weight.
Neena paused in the doorway, glancing around the stack of laundry.
Betsy spotted her, and growled. "What are YOU looking at Klutzilla?"
Neena shook her head and quickly hid her face back behind the towels."Nothing."
Betsy narrowed her eyes and lips to slits. She relished wailing on the dark-skinned woman that had stood up to her, on Day One of the camps. But, unlike the majority of the uniformed officers at the camps, Betsy preffered to wait until there was a reason to beat the mutants. It was much more satisfying when the freaks knew they were in the wrong. As of yet, Neena hadn't done anything wrong. Of course, given her clumsiness, the round chef doubted it would be long.
"You know where those go. Quit gawking and MOVE IT!!"
Neena nodded hastily and scooted over to the appropriate corner of the kitchen, away from the main prep area. Shelving lined a small area, containing aprons, dishcloths, hairnets, packages of gloves, and various other kitchen 'apparel', along with a hamper for the washables. Also, a floor length mirror covered the wall, which Betsy used to inspect all of her 'volunteers' when they reported for duty. Neena had found it to be very handy in keeping an eye on her loud-mouthed host as she worked. Though, usually when Neena arrived in the kitchen, Betsy became preoccupied with someone else.
"You tell her Beebee." Ethan, Neena's guard escort, leaned against the doorframe, smiling. He wiggled his eyebrows. A prim, and very out-of-place, girlish smile appeared on Betsy's round face. She preened visibly and forgot to keep glaring at Neena's retreating back.
"Well, someone has to keep these rejects in line. They respect you more when they know you don't take crap from anyone."
As she passed a young boy with blue hair and sharp nails, he cleared his throat. "Special delivery."
Neena glanced sideways, and saw a small piece of yellow lemon peel sitting by his station, and a cherry pit, still a bit red in color. She looked away quickly. "Mmhm."
The boy shoved the little bits, as well as some other food trash, into the trashbin in a smooth move.
Neena set her bundle on the shelves, distributing them accordingly. Next she unstrapped her basket, set it down, and began unloading the dirty stuff into it. She was very careful, as Dino had indicated caution with the yellow peel. That, combined with the red, meant something dangerous was in there. She felt several small bottles; various spices, no doubt.
Then she hit something considerably larger, and round. Neena looked into the mirror. Betsy and Ethan were completely distracted with each other. Carefully she pulled the cloth aside.
A canister of the sedative. And it was nearly full.
Neena fought hard not to start laughing. She could barely keep from smiling. Quickly she covered the treasure, and finished her chore. Several minutes later she and Ethan were out the door, and headed back to the Laundry Pool, with Neena having only recieved a backhand across the face for nearly spilling a bowl of applesause as she passed.
<"Now, what to do? What to do?"> Her nearly-colorless eyes sparkled as she considered the possibilities. [/color]
(OOC: Just waiting for the rest of the camp to catch up in the timeline. And the powder is a sedative/power restrictor, approved by Librarian. More on that later. )
Betsy made sure a continuous supply of peppers, onions, garlic, lemons and various other such 'interesting' ingredients found their way to Raina's table for chopping or juicing, keeping her busy the four and a half hours until dinner.
Grabbing the girl's shirt with one hand, and another mutant with the other, she dragged the two over to one of the human sous chefs, if they could be considered that in this excuse of a kitchen. They were more like glorified fast food cashiers.....
"Gather 'em up and get 'em ready to serve. If I find any hair in anything, double duty tomorrow and a day in Isolation."
As everyone bustled out, Betsy was left alone for a brief few minutes. She walked over to the the five giant pots of gruel specified for the mutants; there were an overabundance of pure'ed carrots this time, giving it a funky orange appearance. She reached into one of the shelves and extracted a plain, unlabelled cannister. She opened it, and dumped a scoop of the tasteless white power into each pot, then stirred it in until it dissolved in the heat. Replacing the lid and cannister, she headed out to the line herself.
Fifteen minutes later Betsy returned to the table, leaned down so her head was right next to Raina's ear, and yelled, "SPEED IT UP!! I HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY!! AND YOU'RE CHOPPING THEM TOO BIG!! MAKE 'EM SMALLER!! AND QUIT CRYING ALL OVER MY FOOD!!!![/U]"[/B]
A bowl was slammed down to put the cut peppers in, before Betsy moved away to yell at someone else. The woman's collar kept her from back-talking, but her dark-skinned friend had made up for it. And since her friend wasn't here to speak for her, Betsy took the opportunity to make life as difficult as possible for the head-shaved woman. There would be no pleasing the chef, no matter how closely directions were followed.[/color]
The first batch of mutants to enter the kitchen were given dish duty. Holding a skillet, Betsy clomped over and tossed a plastic wrapped package at each one; in each package were an apron, plastic gloves, and a hairnet.
"The first one of you freaks I catch without this stuff on goes to Isolation," she all but yelled at them. "The next one gets to clean the grease traps for a week."
"And the third one?"
Betsy's answer to the man smart remark was a backswing with the skillet that connected with the side of his head with a solid THUNKK!! He collided with the prep table, trying to catch himself from falling. In a swift motion Betsy set the skillet on the prep table and snatched up a meat-tenderizing hammer, metal in material. She stalked forward, grabbed his wrist, and brought the hammer down with a heavy swing. He screamed in pain as his pinky and ring finger broke on impact. Besty grabbed his shirt collar and pulled in right to her face.
"Why don't you be the third one, and find out," she growled out. Then she turned to the others. "Well? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!!" There was a rustle of plastic as the packages were opened and the content donned. Meanwhile Betsy thrust the injured mutant at one of the guards overseeing them. "Get him bandaged up, then get him back here, ASAP. He's got a double duty to finish." She returned the man's pained and angry glare with an almost feral grin. Behind her, one of the human cooks was already cleaning away the blood and sterilizing the table and hammer.
Once the dishwashers were set up, potatoe peelers in place, and onion choppers crying, she turned back to the pot of stew she'd begun. The stew was for the guards dinner, and had identifiable chunks of vegetables and meat. She had been told that she could not make decent, in her mind, food for the mutants. While she was not a fan of mutants in general, and agreed with the view that most of them needed to be locked away from society, she was a chef at heart. And no chef worth his or her salt would left food go out that they wouldn't eat themselves. Yet that's what she was being forced to do. Thus, she was taking her wrath out on everybody, guards included. If they wanted to eat better, then they'd better order it themselves.
Suddenly she sniffed the air, a distasteful expression on her face. "What's burning? I'll skin anyone I catch burning anything!"
Then her gaze landed on the woman that had bled all over her Cafeteria floor. Instantly Betsy's face flushed with anger. "They put YOU in here??" Abruptly the anger drained, replaced by a downright evil grin. "All right. I can work with that. Get over here!"
She grabbed the girl's dress and dragged her to one of the tables, where a ten-pound bag of jalepenoes sat. She handed the girl a slightly dulled paring knife. She had no qualms about the mutants getting hold of anything sharp in the kitchen because, in her words, "If you're going to attack me, you'd better kill me. Because if I get back up, you won't be."
"I want the whole ten pounds deseeded and diced. Not chopped, not minced. DICED. I suggest you don't cut yourself or touch your eyes. Or your neck."
Ten pounds wouldn't take long at all. But for most people, doing such a job without gloves would leave their skin throbbing by the end. Using a dull knife would make the juice and oil squirt, a menace to eyes and face. And touching any kind of a cut, bruise, scrape, or any sensitive part of the body like eyes or tongue, would sting like acid.
And if the woman didn't come off the worse for the wear, Betsy would still win, once the evening's stew worked its way through the guards colons that is....
(OOC: Let me know if this doesn't work Librarian. This is the Camp kitchen, where all meals for both mutants and guards are cooked. Betsy Blagg is in charge (Profile in Guards List) Continued from Men's Camp Anyone with Kitchen Duty can post here.)
Betsy stormed from the women's side into the men's side like a hurricane. She was soaking wet from having slipped on the wet floor that dark-skinned back-talker had been cleaning, while she'd attempted to break up the fight among the women. Betsy knew that hadn't been an accident. She was so furious right now she just wanted them all gone, out of her Cafeteria.
Yes, it was her Cafeteria. Her Cafeteria and her kitchen, and she dared anyone, anyone to challenge her on that. She swiped an electronic keycard, which unlocked the door in between the two sides of the Mess Hall. The soundproof glass slid open silently, then shut behind her.
"I WANT EVERYONE OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!!!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, the bellow echoing off of the walls and shaking the eatware. She ignored the fact that most of the mutants had already begun being moved out.
She moved into the kitchen area through another coded door. The instant the door shut behind her she grabbed a metal spoon and a huge metal pot from the equipment shelf. She slammed it into the sink with a teeth-rattling BAANNNG!! and turned the water on full force. Then she turned to the other woman and men scattered about the kitchen.
"QUIT GAWKING AND GET COOKING!! DINNER'S IN FIVE HOURS AND ANYONE WHO SCREWS UP IS GOING TO BE THE MAIN INGREDIENT IN TOMORROW'S LUNCH SPECIAL SURPRISE!!! MOVE IT!!!!"
The underlings began rushing around as if their feet were on fire. Considering two of the cooks had already been sent to the infirmary with minor concussions from being beaned upside the head with canned goods and/or potatoes and apples, they felt it better to heed their Chief's warning. Silently they gave thanks that, starting after dinner, some of the mutant inmates would be drafted in to handle the brunt of both the manual labor and Betsy's wrath....
"I don't know what it is yet. I may have... cure whatever it is but I have no idea what it does yet... But I can be sure it has something to do with numbing the body... or something along the line. I've seen cases like this..."
Gwen listened, still keeping her expression neutral. Maybe she could send a few certain others Colyn's way. Ones who were having harsher reactions to the sedatives.
"Hm. Well, we'll check it out then. Let me get a blood sample real quick." She was an expert, so the procedure should've been quick and painless. "I'll send it to the lab boys and see what they'll tell me." Of course, she already knew what they'd say, but Colyn and Nika didn't need to know yet. Maybe Gwen could use the info for another push to stop the over-medicating. Maybe.
"Oh please let me help out here. I've spent most of my time in here anyways so I know where things are."
Puppy dog eyes have nothing on Kitty-cat eyes. "Fine," she finally sighed. "I'm sure I can find something for you do around here. For one shift. You still need a second."
Gwen scowled slightly. She was supposed to be professional, unbiased. It was becoming increasingly difficult to be so in this place.[/color]
Neena used the commotion to her advantage, to blend into the background. Under the guise of gathering and replacing laundry, she assessed the layout of the Infirmary.
It was laid out like a small clinic. Several beds lined one wall; not enough if this mad rush were to keep up. Tables inbetween the beds, curtains to separate them if needed or wanted. A suspiciously unused-looking sanitary sink/counter in one corner. Restroom in another. Several doors leading to other areas, some marked some not.
She took a special interest in one door marked 'Supplies'. There was a tiny window in the door. She gave a quick glance to be sure chaos still prevailed, then peeked inside the window. She saw shevles lined with, <"Imagine that...">, various supplies. Well, it seemed that the Powers-That-Be wanted the inmates of their lovely little getaway to be in decent health. Can't enjoy such interesting activities as Rock Smashing and Pretend-to-be-a-Punching Bag with a cough, now can we?
She moved away quickly before someone could pull her away. She waited a few minutes, during which time Gwendolyn pulled Nika past her. She reached out and gave the cat-girl's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and flashed her a smile, before she was whisked away.
"What the hell is in that water it taste like dirt and rust!" Jason's outburst distracted her momentarily. In the rush of people she lost track of him at first. When her gaze finially found him, he was in the process of lying back down. And possibly in the process of zoning out, given the glazed look in his eyes.
<"Good to know the painkillers work,"> she thought.
One of the other doors caught her attention. It was marked 'Miscellaneous', and the window was dark.
<"Miscellaneous? That's begging for a peek...."> She made motions of gathering up the sheets, moving closer to the door. But she couldn't make out anything in the room. She bit her lip, weighing her options.
<"This is gonna hurt...."> She bent over a bit, letting one of the sheets drag the floor, and wound the loose end around her ankle. Then taking a deep breath, she stared at the door and blinked.
The instant her xray vision activated, the restraining cuff did as well, and sent a jolt of electricity up her arm and through her upper body. She hissed, and jerked backwards, pulling on the sheets in the process, which pulled her feet from under her, and effectively dumped the rest of her ungracefully onto her back.
"Hey! No goofing off!" That was the most she'd heard her escort say that day. She bit back the pain and attempted a lighthearted chuckle.
"Eh, sorry. Always been a bit bumble-footed...."
"Right. Get up. That stuff isn't going to wash itself."
<"Huh. A grammatically correct statement. Whaddya know?">
"Right away Boss." She grunted a bit as she stood; she was going to be stiff the next day, for sure. On the way out she smiled at Natalie, and crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Jason. She wasn't sure either of them were conscious enough to see.
As she was led out, arms full, she considered what her quick 'glimpse' had revealed. Shelves lined with small canisters, none of them marked, all the same in shape, color and make. What was in them?
The thought occupied her all the way to the Laundry Pool.....
(OOC: No prob. Hope this 'busy' is a good 'busy'. Let us know if we go too far, or need to change something to keep her true to character.)
"Well well, how did you get here?"
<"Now that's a stupid question."> Neena prudently kept the comment to herself. She backed away to allow Gwen to do her job, but hovered nearby to assure herself Natalie would be okay. The girl had some kind of healing abilities, Neena knew, but not how extensive. So she drug out her laundry gathering duties as long as possible.
"Need another roll of guaze." Being nearby already, Neena obliged. Gwendolyn looked up at her, a bit surprised. "You here again?" Neena grinned.
"Well, at least I'm making work for you." The rolly nurse gave her a rather bland look, as if to ask, 'And I should be grateful why?'. Neena shrugged, still smiling. "Sorry. Laundry duty. Guess I'll be in and out regularly."
"I'm ecstatic." was the bland answer as Gwendolyn returned to her patient.
"Gwendolyn I think you better take a look at this one." Gwen huffed as yet another guard appeared hauling in another mutant.
"What is this? Grand Central Station?!" This one was the white-furred cat-girl that Miss Fragile-lying-on-the-bed had partially healed. Partially being the key word. She saw the spreading blood on the girl's dress. Wonderful.
All right, enough lazing about. Having patched up Natalie for the moment, Gwen began ordering those loitering about, starting with NIka. "You, sit here. You," at nurse, "get more bandages. You," at a second nurse, "get him," pointing to Jason, "some painkillers. And not just tylenol either," she warned. Then she turned on the guards.
"And all of you, out! If you're not helping, or paying me admission, then out!. This isn't Ringling Brothers, despite the circus!" She grumbled as she turned to check Nika, motioning for the girl to lift her dress so she could assess the wound. "Idiots in uniforms. May as well have sent postal workers...."
Neena listened to the berating, trying her best not to laugh, and went back to her work, as slowly as possible....
And the powder is a sedative/power restrictor, approved by Librarian. More on that later. 
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