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.
Evelyn was a strange creature for Sylar to comprehend. She was similar, and yet very different to anyone else he'd encountered. The experience made him realize just how different mutants could be, much like normal people. She could probably survive perfectly well in either world, unlike Sylar who could never make it among normal people, and was still too timid to enter the mutant community. "That still sounds like kinship to me, maybe not on the level of a pack, but sounds like being friendly to me." His use of the word friend was rare, outside of Serena, Sylar didn't believe he had any friends, or that he would make any more considering his personality.
It'd quite some time since he'd read a Holmes novel, longer than even the 3 years he'd been living underground. "It seems i'm not the only mutant given a name through his actions." Her description of her ability reminded him of Holmes's skills, though even Doyle probably couldn't imagine somebody would exist one day with a realistic version of that uncanny ability. Sylar remained crouched, never standing, or meeting Evelyn's eyes with his own gaze, however his tail straightened up, hanging in the air behind him, swaying ever so slightly as their talk went on. Evelyn of all people could probably decipher Sylar's animal language, if she had a mind too, especially since it was similar to a cat's.
Most people might be upset by talk of their parents, but Sylar had long since cut most of the ties between child and parent. She didn't offend him, and though she'd been able to rub him the wrong way a few times, his stoic front only spoke of one thing, a lack of emotion towards the topic. "My previous life ended when I became this way, I don't think about it very much." Sylar moved finally from his position, turning from Evelyn and creeping a few steps towards the pile of clothes and rags that had been heaped towards a wall of the junction. He pulled out the bag of chips that had started the whole encounter, popping the plastic apart and grabbing a hand full.
He crunched into the handful of snacks and swallowed. "Barbecue, not bad." He mumbled to himself, his hunger having literally dropped his attention on Evelyn for the moment, at least it seemed that way. Though he wasn't watching her with his dead eyes, his ears would pick up even the slightest movement by the girl, essentially showing she posed no threat in his mind. He spoke while eating his way through the rest of the bag. "I think your view on people is going to get you hurt." He turned back to her, his head looking over his shoulders a bit as he spoke. "Fear and hatred are powerful emotions, and people are stupid. Your luck will run out sometime, and you'd better have some decent friends to save you when it does. " Sylar said bluntly, she seemed nice enough, but her curiosity and interest in prying reminded him of his days in school. Nobody was naive or curious forever, eventually you'd get burned, and ignore the bad around you.
But maybe Sylar was just bitter, cause his life was forged by bad thoughts and ignorance, and the fact that when he suffered, nobody ever came ot help him, just out of the goodness in their hearts.
Sylar sat on his heels, resting his hands on his knees as he talked with Evelyn. She was certainly curious to keep speaking with him instead of seeking escape from his dank domain. Part of Sylar was starting to enjoy the encounter, yet another case of a mutant trying to inspire him beyond his loathed self image. Though Evelyn wasn't like Serena or Alma, but kind of a more middle grounded approach in opinion of mutation. "It seems every mutant wants to promote kinship, none of the ones I've met will just accept what I say, instead it's always a fight to try and cheer me up." He didn't smile, but his words were lighter and becoming friendlier.
Her mutation was super human observational skills? Sylar recalled his life from years ago, when he was just the blind kid in the library. He tilted his head in puzzlement before speaking. "So...you're like a mutie Sherlock Holmes?" He'd read a bit of Sherlock Holmes, though there wasn't much available in braille, he'd at least read some major classics. So she could observe and notice the most minute of details. That kind of super sense must be interesting, Sylar's senses allowed him to pick up on things normal people couldn't, but it was fundamentally different in that his senses were heighted to superhuman levels, similar to alot of predatory animals. In her case that meant she could focus in on things people just missed.
This really made him wonder if the trail she'd followed hadn't been so minimal that only she'd have been able to notice it. Sylar had developed something of a soft spot for other mutants, and her experience with her own parents kind of made him want to like her even more. At least as a fellow mutant. " I'm not sure if I should say you had it better or worse than my own experience. Mine simply called me a monster, and wondered if I should be whisked away by the government." Sylar never truly learned what his parents thought of him, their reactions to his mutation were more than enough to cement in him a permanent separation. "So why are you sitting down here trying to cheer up some sewer mutie? I know what I want, but what does this idle curiosity of yours get for you?"
Sylar was starting to realize something as this encounter when on, and reminded him of another encounter he had in the sewers with a strong woman. Sylar realized strong women were not something he could handle, a lack of fear seriously unnerved and broke his pace. He wasn't sure how old Evelyn was, but she seemed to have guessed he was younger. A lot of people had trouble guessing his age, unable to judge based on anything but his voice. She was close in her description of him, the fear of his baser instincts is what kept him down here, but it was the fear of his parents that had sent him down here to begin with. She also revealed she was a mutant, something he hadn't guessed at yet, at least not seriously.
He sighed, his voice having melted into the weak vocals of a teenage boy. "I've spent three years living with this body, and it's not the outside you should worry about." Mutants were afraid of their powers, or what they might do with them by accident, Sylar wasn't afraid of accidents, he was afraid of his ever regressing mind. "You may not see me as a monster, but I'll become one eventually. You don't know the whole story of my mutation." Part of him wondered what it was like to be able to talk like she did, always a step ahead without having to ask what the other person was thinking
He chuckled at the irony of her statement. "I guess people and mutant's really aren't so different when they're afraid." He'd avoided the riots entirely, knowing just how dangerous a powder keg of fear and aggression could be. "So I gotta ask, what exactly makes you a mutant? I'll seriously laugh if your mutation is an ability to dominate a conversation." She had said she wasn't a mind reader, but she might as well be if she could guess things like she had been. Without his image of a monster, or aggression as a mutant, Evelyn was left talking to a rather timid boy.
He shook his head and sighed, "Maybe I did, she was terrified, even more so after I snuck up on her. But no kid deserves to feel like that, alone and terrified, with nobody to help. Kid's should be with their parents, at least while they're young." His voice was exceptionally melancholy for a moment, as his mind wandered to the day his parent's called him an abomination and wanted to abandon him after he mutated. Even if Sylar devolved into a monster that stalked the night and fed on fear, he'd at least like to know that little girl remained happy with her parents, like he never could.
She was right, a reputation was part fact, part fiction, and Sylar had taken full advantage of the fiction aspect. This girl was either absurdly observant, or had better instincts than he did at reading a person. "People did create a monster, I'm the result. Even if I don't want to be one, I at least want to keep the image as one." An odd statement, Sylar wasn't really all that horrible, his seclusion and fear of attention had helped him keep his inner beast docile for three years, but to keep that part of himself locked away, he needed people to think he was exactly what he was repressing. "I need to be feared, or else I have to be the one afraid." A poetic statement coming from a highschool drop out who lived underground.
Evelyn didn't back down, which Sylar was growing to expect as time went on between them. His threats had failed, and the girl was most likely more intelligent than he was, at this rate she'd completely back him into a mental corner. However, she didn't know what his life was like, or how his past had been, so all her words meant little to him as they soaked in. "Sitting down here keeps me from being dead lady. You're normal, you don't have to be afraid of all the other normal people. I do, so I need the monster, and that's why you can't go around telling people it's just some kid with a tail." Sylar's history was complicated and filled with hardship, something he assumed she couldn't understand even if he'd told her. And her refusal to accept what he was kind of shook his own determination, and that was really bugging him.
They say a predator can smell fear, and somehow Sylar knew that she understood that he really could kill her if he wanted, that he was truly dangerous. However so long as she was talking to the human beneath the monster, she was keeping that danger at bay. Evelyn had surprised him a few times in short span since she stumbled onto his home, however her mention of his encounter with a lost child stopped Sylar completely for a moment. He knew that story would be in the news somewhere, but nobody ever seemed to remember it, or place him as the one who'd turned the girl in. "I...uh...Nobody ever brings that up." He said slowly. "I..I mean...she was just a kid, some scared little girl, what was I supposed to do?" She'd been matching him word for word so far, but for a brief moment now, she'd disarmed Sylar completely.
Evelyn seemed to have an exceptional ability to agitate Sylar on a level he wasn't very used to. It was like all of his actions provoked the opposite reaction in the girl. He'd have to really get some practice in again at scaring normal people. Her staunch defiance in the face of his show however kept him a bit unnerved. The last thing a predator wanted was to face something that wasn't afraid of them. "You happened upon my lair, that's all. Most people up top know my reputation and what i'm capable of." He had hoped to spook Evelyn into simply running off after he got up never to bother him again, but her growing boldness was really starting to irk him. "And maybe i'm not the murderous sort, but you're really pushing it lady."
His tail pulled back from the floor, bits of rock falling about as he unsheathed it from the stone. The weapon had lost none of it's gleam, and quickly moved back into a position to suggest a strike. She had a point, generally he was exceptional at leaving no trail from his raids. Maybe he'd grown lax over the past few months. "You got lucky is all." He stated with a bit of annoyance, unaware that Evelyn's astute observational skills were a bit beyond the average person and may have helped her pick up on the subtle cues that lead to this encounter.
So according to her, she really was just a nosy girl poking around where she shouldn't be. At least that meant nobody else was after him, or that she couldn't know all of his inner thoughts, even if she'd been surprising able to read him. It reminded him of a previous encounter in the sewers, though this time she'd come to him instead of the other way around. She had some guts to be proud of being so nosy that she'd stumbled onto an urban legend. Sylar wasn't half bad at reading body language himself, and he'd realized the girl's boldness wasn't going to falter at more empty threats. He leaned back a bit, removing his hands from her shoulders, instead crouching over her and giving her a bit of space to move away.
His face became stoic and serious, losing what little hints of surprise she'd been able to pick up on earlier. "I don't know that it's ridiculous, but I think it's poor judgment." He responded, perhaps she wasn't a native of Manhattan, or she didn't listen to rumors. Either way she'd never heard of him, or at least didn't buy into the rumors of him attacking people in the night or hunting animals. "You're pretty bold to pick an argument with a sewer monster lady. After all, whose to say I couldn't just eat your body after I killed you?" He said, forcing a grin and revealing the metallic sheen of his hardened fangs and teeth. However this statement wasn't a threat like his earlier words, right now it was more matter of fact.
He stared at her for a moment, gauging how she'd respond to the situation now that he'd backed off a bit. She could try to run, and he might let her, but this standoff had kind of reached a stalemate with Sylar unsure of whether to get seriously violent or simply knock her out and leave her above ground a few blocks away. "So you found a sewer mutant. What now museum girl?"
Feeling secure in that she seemed to be all on her own down here, as well as no threat to himself, Sylar calmed from his "predator" mode into a more normal state. He still didn't know what he'd do with her, but he'd rather not kill some girl and have to deal with any repercussions that might have. Though while he was thinking on how to scare her into keeping these events a secret, she had the courage to talk back to him! He was taken back a bit, his face showing only the faintest hint of his surprise. "Not that dumb? I'm a violent monster who lives in the sewers lady, and most people KNOW to be afraid of that! And do you feel how wet it is down here? Chips are the only thing that keep for any amount of time!" Suddenly his voice was much softer and boyish, her words having sort of goaded him into agitation, though more of a teenage agitation than an animalistic one.
She pointed out he'd left behind more than enough clues for her to follow him, and sadly that was a valid point. It'd been awhile since anyone came looking for him, instead of him stumbling onto people like he'd done a few times in the recent past. He'd have to cover his tracks better if this girl was able to read them. "Yeah well the city was pretty hectic lately so most people didn't notice anything. Next time there won't be a trail." He growled, a confirmation more for himself than her. However more than her ability to argue with a sewer dwelling monster man, Sylar found himself bothered by her insight into how he was thinking.
He stared at her, unsure of how she managed to read him like she'd just done. "How'd...how'd you know what I was worried about?" Maybe she'd just gotten really luck with a guess, or knew him a bit from his tabloid articles, but either way she'd hit the nail on the head with her words. Or maybe she was some kinda mind reader. "Who are you? A cop? Some kinda mind reader mutie? I still don't buy that you're just a cat sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." Even if she was just some curious nobody, he couldn't just let her go, not when she knew he was down here, hanging around the sewers in this area. "If, and I mean if I let you go, how could I be sure you wouldn't bring others down here. If you're so curious I'm not going to just let you up to go running to some paper. Curiosity isn't always healthy lady, and neither is your lack of fear. I could kill you ya know, rip your throat out, or..." His sentence didn't finish with words, but the sound of his tail striking forward into the stone, the blade digging a nice little chunk out. He was trying to sound scary again, but she'd already thrown him off his game a bit, and his words and form showed a lack of total determination.
Sylar's body was light weight, mostly from malnutrition and being a smaller individual, however the strength he could put out was immense, meaning he could overpower the girl at any time, a fact he quickly gathered from his ambush on her. He paid no attention to the sounds of her bag and flashlight as they were thrown away, focusing all of his senses on her. Each one reading Evenlyn like a book, looking for any ques that spelled danger. He continued to bore holes into her with his dead eyes, hidden from her sight as he listened to her response. He showed no physical response, but in his thoughts he quickly squashed her words. What person delves into the sewers simply because they heard something? It's a dark putrid place, and anything you'd hear down there had to be dangerous. The illogical curiosity bothered him.
The pressure on her shoulders let up a bit, Sylar identifying the girl as no real threat, however he did not let her up or remove himself from pinning her. "That's stupid, nobody runs off into the dark after noises they heard. I don't buy it." He growled, his mind trying to figure out what her true motive might be. The city had been a little crazy recently, but he'd made no big ruckus while that happened, staying hidden during it all. So nobody should be looking for him, and she couldn't be one of the few police officers that still came hunting for him, at least she didn't feel like one. His nose wrinkled in the dark, making a slight huff noise as he took in her scent. She smelled like your average girl, nothing surprising or unusual. And her form looked normal as well. Was she really just curious and followed him without thinking about the danger?
He tilted his head slightly to the left, looking up for a moment and focusing his hearing on the noises in the tunnels. Nothing but the usual gurgle of nasty water, or scampering of a rat. She was alone. He spoke again, with a somewhat more subdued tone. "What's wrong with you girl, the dark is full of things that could kill you. Chasing Boogiemen will get you hurt." Sylar was unsure of what to do now, this girl had followed him to a hideout, meaning it had to be abandoned, plus this meant a normal girl had been foolish enough to chase him in the dark. He'd thought all his time above ground scaring people as the Predator would keep this from happening. He'd have to scare her pretty good to keep her from leading anyone else down here on a monster hunt. Lost in his own thoughts for a second, his form let up on Evelyn, giving her a chance to breath beneath him.
The faint sound finally got close enough for Sylar to clarify what it was. It was steps, but unlike most people who stomped about either from urgency or fear, these were light, barely audible even to his superhuman ears. However, now that they'd gotten this close, Sylar let his instincts turned on, his form shrinking against the ceiling as he waited in ambush. A form entered his lair, small and light in frame. A woman, distinguished by her smaller frame and lighter temperature. His thermal sight ingrained with a target, Sylar waited but a moment to judge her intent.
He might have been surprised by her flashlight, if he wasn't blind, but in the moment Evelyn looked up, Sylar released the grip in his hands and pushed with his feet against the stone. His monstrous form leapt down towards the girl. His intent was to pin her against the floor, eliminating any threat she might pose before she had a chance to even think. He had no idea who she was or why she had come into his home, but all that mattered was the things hiding in the dark usually didn't want to be found, and that was Sylar's preference. His claws were spread shoulder width apart, each aiming to pin one of her shoulders down without tearing into her flesh, while his body would follow suit, pinning her stomach to the ground, leaving her helpless and his tail available if needed.
Evelyn only had a moment to try and react, and most people had no idea how to respond when a monster was assaulting you from the dark. His hands found her shoulders, forcing her backward with both strength and momentum, throwing her shoulders towards the ground with a thud. His body rested atop her, his face hidden somewhat beneath the folds of his hood, only a terrifying hissing noise escaping his lips before he spoke. "Who are you, Why'd you follow me?" He growled at her, voice thick with violent intent. His goal was to intimidate her and knock any fight she might have had in in her out to be replaced by fear. His tail curled forward like a scorpions, and held fast behind his form, the obsidian blade glinted against what light there was.
Above ground, Sylar was always alert, cautious, and mildly agitated from having to expose himself to the world. But down here, in the sewers, he was in his element. The dark concealed his form, and the constricted network of tunnels was a maze for anyone who couldn't navigate properly. He'd spent years learning every inch of the sewers, which spots were safe and which were active for city workers. Most people couldn't and didn't want to track him, afraid of what he was, and unable to follow what tracks he left behind. The putrid stench of the sewer masked his own scent well, and the darkness concealed the claw marks he'd cut into the stone when running or climbing, meaning that anyone who did come down here, would be entirely at a disadvantage against the Predator of Manhattan.
Unaware that a rather gifted detective was on his trail, Sylar continued toward his lair, a circular junction where a few tunnels merged together at a pool of water. Not something you'd like to drink, but it kept the temperature in the area cooler, meaning he could sleep comfortably here. His trail of sounds grew dimmer as he made his way into the junction, exchanging them for a bit of rustling as he moved about some old clothes, and stored a few different food items in hiding spots. His senses were keen, but with very little air movement in the sewer, it could take awhile for a new scent to permeate, and quiet steps echoed poorly. For now, he was unaware of a guest in his home.
However as he settled in, something seemed off. His ears buzzed softly with a faint noise, possibly footsteps? Though they were too light to be any of the usual suspects, perhaps he was mistaking the noise for something else down here. Sometimes the wind blowing through a grate, or some old piece of metal rusted off and fallen. Either way, he left his stash of snacks, and turned to the wall behind them, digging his knife like fingers into the stone, and then his toes, all of which were sturdy razor sharp claws, holding fast in the old mortar. He clambered up the wall a bit, his form vanishing into the shadows created by the curved ceiling, leaving behind no trace of the Boogieman, save for the shallow movement of his chest as he breathed.
Sylar was a creature of opportunity, an ambush predator wearing a person's flesh. Something big had been going on in the world above, and though he'd spent much of that time staying in the shadows, in the aftermath he'd been using the time to ransack certain stores and buildings for food, to replenish what little stocks he kept in his hideouts in the sewer systems. He gathered up some various foods, chips, candy, bread. With a bag stuffed with light weight hand foods, he'd fled down a man hole into his network of tunnels he called home. The manhole hadn't quite fit back into the slot, leaving a bit of space into the world above, a bit of light streaking down onto his form, unbeknownst to the Boogieman.
Finished with his hunt, Sylar crept along the tunnel, his obsidian claws clacking against the stone, creating a familiar echo as he navigated through the dark. There was a junction a block or so away, and that was where he'd bunk down and eat. The tunnels amplified the sounds of his movement, the claws scraping against the stone, a bag sometimes dragging and other times rustling against his dirty form. All this movement, this faint marker of a creature in the sewers was unnatural to any who might hear it.
The sound grew fainter as he made his way to the end of this tunnel, turning left and heading deeper into the labyrinth that existed beneath the streets of New York. Normally a speedy timid individual, with no one around, and his catch in hand, Sylar crawled through his home at a slower speed, enjoying his return trip to his makeshift next in the dank underbelly of society.
With most of the blood flung from his claws, Sylar bent forward and ran the blades of his fingers slowly against his tongue, cleaning the last bits of viscera residue from them. Though his body was active in it's maintenance, his mind never strayed from the strange girl before him. Sylar had a bit of experience with mutants now, but he still found it strange to meet people not intimidated by his form or predatory nature.
Sylar was always at war with the Predator inside, depending on his instincts to survive, but afraid to give into them fully for fear of how dark his inner beast could truly be. Sylar wondered how the stress of trying to mingle with the normal world must feel, but his own lifestyle was stressful enough. "I don't mingle with the human world very often. My form is too alien for the normal people." Sometimes he wondered if he felt a bit of jealousy for those who could pass for normal, but he still preferred his safe and hidden lifestyle to trying to force his way into the light. "It sounds like you spend time as a bridge between my world and theirs. Human, but hunter as well." He inched a bit closer, his form looking like he was staring at her, though his eyes could never discern more detail of her form no matter how hard he squinted or stared.
He could hear her bitterness at his comment, perhaps she had a feature he couldn't see. "Are you not perfect?" He asked, a serious question with no hint of sarcasm or insult. Sylar never though to inform people he was blind, a feature that greatly altered how he perceived people in his life. "Your shape looks normal, you got some mutie feature?" Sylar bluntly asked the girl, no caution or tact in his voice as he inquired about what could be a sensitive subject.
Having finished his grooming, Sylar returned to resting his hands on his knees as he spoke with Kiva. "Don't think I ever met anyone from Canada before. Though I don't meet people very often to begin with." He knew Canada was north of the States, and cold, but he couldn't remember much else from geography courses back in school. Sylar's claws were encased around his fingers, razor sharp implements that limited him from any sort of delicate work that wasn't chopping meat apart or climbing surfaces. He felt a bit jealous knowing she'd learned how to do use her's for something so precise.
"Mine are far too sharp to do anything like that. Though I can climb fairly well with them." Coupled with is superhuman strength, Sylar could easily pierce brick or concrete surfaces to create his own hand holds in building faces. A talent he'd grown to master over the past few years in the urban jungle and sewers. Sylar wasn't sure how he'd feel about being painted, other than slightly uncomfortable at knowing someone had an image of him. "I don't even know what I look like, but I think it would feel a bit odd knowing someone else had a portrait of me." He didn't assume she wanted to paint him, and he might even let her if she wanted to. But it would feel odd knowing an object held his image, and he'd never be able to observe it.
Sylar didn't assume he'd ever get pity or concern over his life, but when a mutant showed interest in him, he did kind of feel human again, sharing stories, and interacting like a person instead of a monster. He didn't smile, but his voice softened a bit after her statement. "Funny how life never gives us what we want, when we want it." His tail curled a bit at the tip and swayed. "But thank you, for the sentiment." He meant those words as well, which was rare for the blunt sewer dwelling teenager.
Sylar figured other mutants all changed around the time he did, puberty. Hearing Gina had suffered physical alterations since infancy kind of surprised him. His stoic face changing for just a moment beneath the shade of his hood. "I've been turning into a monster for three years. It happens in spurts, I imagine it's more difficult when it happens your entire life." Sylar didn't care for pity, nor did he give any. He didn't feel sorry for anyone, the world was an ugly place, and it did ugly things to everyone, especially mutants. "Perhaps you're simply in a phase of change, that happened to me before."
He could sense her tense up, a reasonable response to what he was, but he was glad she didn't start calling for help or trying to bolt. He didn't need chaos right now when he was trying to be a guest in this mansion of mutants. "I stopped being a student some time ago. I came here...because I was curious. Curious to see how mutants lived above ground." Sylar wasn't sure he could ever go back to being a student, or trying to become a member of society at large. But he did feel a longing, at least for some kind of social interaction, to bond with another living thing that wasn't a meal or a rat in the sewers.
His following words were quite harsh considering the tone he'd had during most of this encounter. "I've been abandoned by family once, I don't need another one." Though he considering Serena someone he could befriend, Sylar still adamantly refused the idea of ever belonging somewhere like a child was supposed to belong to a family. If one pair of parents could abandon their child, why would he ever trust anyone else to love him unconditionally.
He didn't however want to upset Gina, who he realized he was feeling quite a connection with. He listened to her explanation for her injury and wariness. So the police had gotten to her, Sylar always knew it would happen if they got a hold of him, but he felt somewhat enraged knowing they had done it to a girl, even if she was a mutant. "I don't like the police, always on a never ending chase to persecute mutants." That was a baseless statement, but Sylar had cemented police officers as "bad guys" in his mind since day one of his life as a mutant.
His own lifestyle and experiences made him quite empathetic with Gina at the moment, but his advice was probably not the best he could have given. "Paranoia isn't a bad thing sometimes. Sometimes it saves your life. I have no ideas about hurting you, but I don't blame you at all for being cautious of me, a stranger in your house."
He wondered if he might even be able to help her considering her situation. "You know, blindness isn't an entirely crippling affliction. Have you tried focusing more on your other senses?" Sylar immediately switched topics, wondering if his experience from being born blind might be able to help this mutant who he felt echoed some of his own past.
Sylar's eyes could see the chill in Alma's body, her extremities had lost most of their color in the sewers, and even now didn't have the orange and red colors they should, but she seemed to be recovering. Sylar could also see the logic in her words, he'd spent a lot of effort convincing anybody who ran into him, or saw him to be terrified of him, and that had carried on to most of the local cops, who were quite wary of a direct confrontation with the Predator in the dark. However, he'd always been "barking" and not "biting", Sylar was still just a boy, timid by nature and unaware of his potential for cruelty and mayhem that laid with his weaponized form.
"I spent a lot of time spooking people, scaring them at night, especially anyone who got curious. There hasn't been a worker to that part of the sewer in over a year because of me. I at least look pretty scary to most people." Sylar didn't think he was weak, or unable to fight, he just preferred not having too. A natural method for most predators in the world, better to be feared over respected. At first he crept behind Alma, sticking to the sides of the street, kind of easing into any shadowy spot he could. But slowly he had to walk like a normal person, his tail easing down to the ground and trailing behind him, his claws hidden in his jacket's pocket. He disliked being out in the open, but crawling would draw attention from a distance.
Sylar's response was fairly curt considering he didn't actually trust Alma's words, though he wanted to. "That question was pretty dumb, considering you're the only person I've given reason to fear me in awhile. But I'll try and behave." He didn't sneer, or speak with a disrespectful tone, but he clearly sounded cautious of the entire situation. He wondered what this place was like. He'd seen a school for mutants, and met mutants who were so kind and friendly it was almost uncomfortable, so a place for mutant criminals had to be an entirely different environment than what he'd been experiencing lately.
Sylar picked and prodded his meal as he finished the better parts. He couldn't be too picky considering his life style, but he wasn't quite animal enough to gorge himself on organs just yet. He was entirely focused on Amber now, his hunger sated for the night. He sat on his heels, and began cleaning his claws, a process involving various motions, and a bit of licking to prevent blood from drying into them. His clothing was already a mess and would have to be ditched, but he didn't quite feel the need to leave the scene just yet.
A mutant girl, hunting in the park who changed into something else. He wondered how he'd never run into her before, but it was probably due to his own overwhelming talent for going unnoticed most of the time. His tail swayed back and forth a bit, his form somewhat reminiscent of a cat being idle. Sylar didn't make any kind of noise, or physical response to her statement. But he didn't really believe in balance either. "Balance? That's nonsense. The more you give in, the more the predator takes over." Sylar felt like his entire mutation was a monster, feasting on him, slowly taking over his body. He was still human, but for how much longer he didn't know.
"Not all of us can pass for normal and enjoy the human world." He flicked his claws a bit, bits of blood spraying off with the momentum of the movement. "It must be nice to choose when to be a mutant and when to be normal." His words may have come off as bitter or confrontational, but the tone of his voice was the exact opposite. It was mostly calm, and steady, no hints of anger or frustration, just a matter of fact monologue aimed at Amber in response to her statement.
