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.
Sitting in the chair opposite the detective, Garrett ran his fingers over the smooth skin of his head. Though he could grow hair now, he had taken a liking to shaving his scalp with a straight razor. It didn't leave the smoothness of his original state, but it brought him back to his roots. " Yes. Garrett Wills. I am sure we will meet many times over in the future, so I wanted to let you know that little experiment of mine was a one time thing. I'll leave the crime fighting to the professionals." That was the olive branch that he had.
Garrett always carefully used his words. Words were much more powerful than most mutations. They contained potent energy of the thought processes which crafted them in the first place. The path he was going to take with the officer was slippery at best, treacherous at worst. Especially in the confines of a squad room, where they had all the power. First things first. " I had heard a rumor that many of the officers of this division are mutants themselves. Is this the case?" A positive answer would make a big difference to Garrett.
It didn't mean sympathy on either end necessarily. But considering his ethos, every foothold was a foothold.
Vague annoyance. He expected as much from her and rightly so. It was as if she were doing a little handwave without using her hands. Apparently the big leather chair had softened her spine. Her eyes bored down on him as did her words. She was being pleasant, but firm. He crossed a leg over, his own features mimicking hers. Business before business. He could respect that. " I'd like my old job back. Or something similar. My old job of course being Public Relations at the Sanctuary. I can present a resume, but I am sure you know it well. It's all in order. I want to help educate the mutant youth as I should have done previously. Previously meaning when I abdicated your predecessor which allowed you to put your name on the building."
Either she'd bite or fight. Who knew? It was certainly liberating to just say what he meant for a change without all of the maneuvering. His own eyes remained fixed on her own. He had no reason to feel fear. If he had, there would have been little reason to come into her territory where guards or cronies could have at him. Though, really, who was left to complain? Most of his reputation was built on rumor. Regardless, he hoped that he had answered her question clearly without being too obtuse.
And she appeared. Big business had been kind to Lori. Long gone was the wild eyed bombshell that he remembered from the past. Clear and concise. Assuredly deadly. It made him tingle. His eyes naturally traced her figure anyway. Memories usually forgot something that the eyes gravitated to. No smiles were appreciated, as they would have been fake. Honesty was the only policy on his end, so he appreciated its reciprocation.
"I have to admit, I didn't expect to see you again."
He let a genuine grin appear, nodding with eyebrows raised in agreement. " Only the present is a living thing, right? The past only exists because we have pictures and we all agree." He noticed the lack of hand extension, though he was surprised that she didn't do it on reflex. As if he would pull a joy buzzer here of all places? Ah, well. Memories were all she had to go on. And weren't they grand?
"What can I do for you, Mr. Wills?"
" Please, call me Garrett. I don't think I've ever called you Miss Faust." Garrett suspected he was not going to be escorted to the office, so he would just make his case where he stood. Or sat, rather, taking a seat where he had been previous, his head inclining toward one nearby. " I had hoped we might talk in a more secluded area, but I suppose I understand your precaution. Perhaps as I continue, we might do so. Anyway, if you know me, you know that there is one thing that has always been at the forefront of my ethos, however twisted the path may have come and gone. I have and do believe that mutants are a people, a burgeoning race which has been seen as little more than monsters and saviors. We're so much more. Shall I continue or shall we move?
No suits in the current EZ-Bake Oven known as Downtown. Garrett dressed casually, light khaki pants and a yellow button up top, short sleeved. This was no formal inquiry, though it was certainly an inquiry. It had been no labor to find out who Jorge Cervantes was and since he had never been arrested for anything, walking into MRC headquarters was as easy as walking into any other public building. AN ID check, a breezy jaunt through a metal detector. Sure, he got a few stray glances from cops. In his opinion, they could look at him all day on the videos later if they liked.
The elevator was a bit stuffy, smelling of stale sweat and a smattering of aftershaves. He sucked at his teeth as the floors eased by. With a soft ding, he stepped out on the floor, looking at the little directory and following it promptly to the squad room. Walking in, it was surprisingly small. He assumed that with the apparent mutant crime waves going on, it would be larger.
He saw the man he had seen in the abandoned tenement at his desk. He was quite sure he would be recognized as well. Approaching the desk, he admired the style and background of his nameplate. It was impressive. " Detective Cervantes. May I sit?" he assumed it would be alright to do so and did so.
Garrett sat in the comfortable seating, perusing a Popular Mechanics issue and nursing a complimentary coffee as he waited for Miss Faust. The business appeared to be thriving with her at the reins, meaning mostly that the people coming and going looked like they were actually employed there. When it was King, he often thought they might very well have been actors. Things were different in many ways now, but in others, not so much at all.
There wasn't much reason to go over it again since he was going to tell her about it soon enough. He wasn't quite sure when the smoke cleared. Maybe with the burning of that leather suit. Nevertheless, a clear path revealed itself in the unmaking and soon after he had scheduled an appointment to meet his previous adversary. Why adversary? It was probably a bout of bitchiness the two of them shared. Neither had ever actually attacked the other. Garrett was still surprised that he got in so easily.
Replacing the magazine to its original home, he rotated his neck. It had been some time since he felt a real enthusiasm for something. A desire without any mortal trappings or sticky agendas. It was as pure today as it had always been. The pleasant girl at the desk looked up to him as if she was receiving important information through her ear. "Miss Faust will be with you in just a moment, Mr. Wills." Standing and straightening his suit, a gray tailored number with his old red pinstripe tie, Garrett thought it made a nice touch without throwing the kitchen sink at her.
It didn't take long for the officer to return,gun in the classic ninety degree posture. The weapon's sheathing and the genuine thanks made Garrett bow at the waist before slipping the doll mask off. Smiling and wiping his face of old sweat, he spoke to his ally. " It was my pleasure. I suspect I have a few minutes of response time. " Folding his arms up and behind his head, he fiddled with the zipper of the suit, a few inches peeling back. The heat poured vertically out of him, making him suddenly clear with the rush of cool.
There was little reason to conceal his identity from important people. Not that everyone wasn't, more that in the game of vigilante, one man island only goes so far. Besides, he had been on television enough times to make paper bagging obsolete. " To save you the hours of research, I am Garrett Wills. Formerly X-Man, formerly Order, formerly RUPERT, ...presently burning up in this suit. I hope you will keep my identity a secret from the police force. It's harder to get things done when the weight of an organization gets attached to one's name, however benevolent." It was as relieving internally to let the steam out as it had been externally. Listening to whatever the other had to say, he did his little circular dance of social bee until he was passing the cop. " Wouldn't surprise me if our next meeting was less informal. I look forward to it."
So, now everyone was friends. Meet and greet could be penciled in at a later date. the use of his mutation had awakened the neural fibers in the masked man. Tingling and what could be described as a pleasant fondling of the nervous system occurred within as he had affected another. He was hooked, taking a deep breath as he listened to the good officer. “I dropped my cell phone in the other room. I’d just call for back-up, but I don’t think we can keep this guy occupied for long. He’s a long time criminal and he needs to be brought down.” The black sack of red stitch turned on its axis, ear turning up at the mention. Brought down. He liked that, nodding and smiling beneath the featureless leather.
“If I can get to a sizeable source of water, I can use that to incapacitate him. Did you happen to run into a water heater or something when you entered the building?” Incapacitate. Another fine suggestion. he shook his head at the mention of water sources. " Go get your phone. I'll wait. I'll check the two cronies." Of course, that was a lie, but in a crisis of sorts, lies became less intrusive. As soon as he turned to get it, Seizure padded off down the hall, though actually doubling back to make it to Razorback's room tootsweet. All this talk had him revved up and ready.
Easy enough to trace with the bestial wailing and all, the foe was found hunched over, sniffing at himself. The sniffing found another target soon enough, the bleeding head turning toward the man in black. the two looked at each other silently for a moment. One, a twisted visage of injury and rage, the other a silent observer, a statue of intention. The latter could see the fading neural pathways pulsing in the creature's forearm, a remnant of their brief union. A hand raised and with it followed the throbbing and pulsating fire in Razorback's hand. A sudden connection was made from screaming hand to the pain doll. Back and forth, back and forth.
All the while, unbeknownst to the hairy oaf, a pathway of shining energy was writing itself , spreading from its original source. By the time the rage got the best of him, Razorback was mapped to the midthigh. His rush and bellow of primal rage was intense, but in reality just the lone cry of denial, like the mammoth as it descended beneath tar. His mind may have wanted him to charge Seizure and gore him to the last, but only the thoughts occurred. Motor control messages were tapped out, as if he hadn't paid the bill. His only movement was to fall face first to the floor. Unfortunately, he landed on his bad eye. Bummer.
Crouching down in the field of the good eye's view, a hand patted the shoulder of the immobilized man-boar. "Furniture stores? You should really try harder next time. Now try to relax." Standing slowly, a finger pointed at its spine, a brief seizing before unconsciousness appeared. He walked a slow circle around his quarry, the footsteps of the cop being heard, a muffled sound of his voice. He'd already seen his face, but no reason to meet the entire police department. Only problem? Only exits without cops were windows.
"Listen, buddy, are you crazy?” The jury was still out on that one. Judging by the look he was giving Garrett, he could easily be jury chairman." You need to get outta here while you ca–”
--SMASH--
Garrett covered his eyes, a light cloud of wood and plaster dust floating out from the wall's wound. Known carcinogens were a no no. The cop was lethal with the wrench. It could be a sidearm for him, but probably not so good at range. Which reminded him about something. A small token of goodwill. Rising slowly with his hands out and palms open, he turned his back to the officer, revealing the pilfered pistol. Pointing toward it with both hand and head, he spoke softly but clearly. " I got this from one of them. You are probably better with it than I am."
Reaching gingerly behind, he passed the gun off to the other, grip facing the cop. His face turned to the twisted and broken fingers, his face creeping up into a crescent of anticipation. It was like blood in the water. He gripped it before it could slip away, the neural map tracing back. Garrett could almost see the map though the wall was in the way. It was slightly disconcerting, but the clear shot of neural stimulation steeled his focus. Razorback's howls became whimpers, though his bestial roots brought on more sounds of violence. He turned back to the officer, sliding the red stitched doll mask back over his face,
" So, how do you want to do this? We should have a moment as I turned his pain up to eleven." Maybe the officer would be sympathetic to Garrett's plight for anonymity after all.
His senses began to balance out after the dizzying cacophony. Garrett was more than annoyed at the leather of the suit as it slipped over him like a loose set of second skin with his sweating. Looked great, if that counted for anything. He had to take the mask off. It was just too hot. The sudden release of the heat trapped in the mask relieved him. The cop would just have to over look his identity. It's not like there was some kind of rulebook for costumed vigilantes, anyway, so no rules were being broken.Crouching against the wall, hands on knees, he took a few precious moments to breathe and cool down, rampaging mutant or not.
Stepping out into the hall, he could hear someone saying something about noses, his head still a bit swimmy from the heat. A solid cracking thud was heard, a resounding howl of pain following it. wiping a small river from his face, he pulled his gloves free and tucked them into his belt, the strange stitched mask still in his other hand. No rest for the wicked was the mantra for the day as crony number two appeared from a nearer door, his back to the manipulator. The guy had a crowbar in his hand and started to move toward the chaos when Garrett simply said, " Hold up."
It obviously caught the guy by surprise, his body 's movement confused for a moment. Turning, his hand raised with the iron shaft gripped solidly in it. "What are you supposed to be, freak?" Garrett didn't have an answer. Be it the heat, the confusion of the moment, or just his own wobbly mind, he let the coil slip free of the bullwhip, its weight hitting the floor. The thug snickered, " Hey man, it ain't that kind of party. Unless you dig pain." The crowbar raised as the guy wore a smug smirk. The whip traveled the distance between them, curling up and catching him just under the chin, blood forgetting to flow for a moment wit the speed of the attack.
" As a matter of fact..." He sprinted toward the target, who was reeling from the shock of the leather's bite. In a pushing tackle, Garrett was on tyop of him, his ungloved hand touching his cheek, the map of the pulsating wound glowing and magnifying in an instant. " I do dig pain. How about you?" His own mutation channeled into the wound, magnifying its pain until the man's jaw began to shiver in spasms, tears immediately streaming from his eyes as his breathing quickened.
Footsteps ahead. Hand still pushing pain, Garrett looked down the hall to see the cop, no worse for the wear, running from the room where Razorback howled. The gore drenched wrench in his hand told the tale. Garrett had used his one good quip, the realization that he wasn't wearing his mask just irritating the piss out of him. Vigilante unmasked, day one. Oh well. " Need some help?"
As he sat perched on a fire escape, sweat trickled into Garrett's eye, burning it. As sleek as the leathery suit was at night, during the day it was an oven. And it was only April. He'd definitely have to work on something that was lighter and easier to work with. He had been watching the appliance store for a while. Normally, a shop such as this would blend into the background. However, this time it was inhabited by Razorback and two of his cronies.
He was a great beast of a mutant, carrying the tusks and demeanor of his namesake. The cronies had to be human wannabes, since Razor wasn't the type to let anyone one up him. Of course, there was always the possibility of one of them being on M. It would make sense in the presence of such a monstrous thug. A sedan pulled up at the edge of the block with enough of a sudden stop that it had to be cops. He saw one get out, most likely a detective. He didn't recognize him from MRC, but RUPERT's dealings with MRC was on the periphery at best. So was Garrett.
Or in this case, Seizure. He wiped the sweat from his face before pulling the doll-like mask over his face. He watched the glass door once the man went in, gun drawn. The silent pause seemed to stretch forever, though it probably only lasted a minute. As if it were made of toilet paper, the door to the shop exploded out as Razorback charged through into the street, his toadies on his heels. The cop didn't miss a beat, giving chase and barking orders. Garrett slid down the fire escape ladder as soon as the group had passed him, staying as incognito as a man in a full leather bondage outfit with a seven foot bullwhip could be.
He had been doing his own bit of surveillance, watching Razor and his minions hole up in the condemned tenements. He was going to wait until nightfall, but they were getting antsy. Come to think of it, the minions were shooting something, but he had assumed it to be heroin. Hopefully it was. At least he had a reason to act now, to move from the easy world of plotting and planning to the harder, yet more exciting, world of doing.
Entering the lobby, he could hear chaos somewhere higher up as Razor was no doubt throwing large objects around. That cop had his hands more than full and Seizure was more than happy to be the equalizer. There was no power to the building. Even if there had been, the elevator looked older than he was, so stairs and sweat it was. His black leather head with the rich red stitches poked out of the door nearest the noise. His eyes closed so his ears could extend down the halls. Razor and the cop and one other to the right. One on the left. A smile crept over the vigilante's face from beneath the leather.
With little reason to sneak, he walked down the hall, clearly standing in the door frame, looking at one of the cronies as he was loading a pistol. In the moment the man turned, his face became one of both fear and surprise, drawing another smirk from Seizure. the next look was a familiar one, as the man's face scrunched up in a landscape of pain and neural misfiring. And then he took a little nap. Fingering the pistol's steel, his head cocked like a bird. Effective, but so obtuse.
The sound of splintering wood snapped him out of his little daydream. He did think to grab it anyway, the gun. Kept it out of the enemies hands and more importantly, lack of eloquence or not, bullets could be the only thing to take down a wild boar. The gun slid into the belt, placed in the small of his back. Garrett tried to focus his hearing again, but the gratuitous crashing and smashing only assaulted his ears, leaving him shaking his head to clear up the cobwebs. He moved into the corner by the door in case the other human came back to check on the wayward other.
Gadgets galore, standing at attemtion on every shelf, hoping to be the selected item to be used. That was probably a little intimate for cold technology, but after all, as mature as the world had made him, Garrett was only a few years older than Madlaina. She handled and inspected the camera box, though ti seemed something wasn't right about it. He tried looking over her shoulder, but he didn't want to seem too imposing so early. It was apparently the wrong model, so he stood back and let his little bundle of dynamite handle her own business as his eyes lazily scanned the units on the shelf nearest.
An associate of the store came to join her and aid her in her search. It seemed that the one he had handed her was a newer model that carried the name, but didn't pop the pictures out. his grin widened as she seemed toretract from the stick the man used to get a different box down. He didn't let her see it, though, since his mind naturally assumed that it was something about Romania and her past that made her believe a common store employee might actually hit her. Her glee was infectious, spreading both to himself and the older man who waited on them. Garrett would find himself very fortunate if he could persuade her to be with him all the time. Baby steps for now.
She held the box and the film out for him to inspect, asking if the purchase was alright. He merely flourished with his hand at the empty shopping cart. " In the cart, dear." He continued to push down the aisles, looking for things that might pop out at him. A strange circular device, like a C-shaped open ring found his attention. It had a slot for batteries and he fumbled with it, looking at the small placard nearby. 'Stay cool every day with the Personal Cooling System!" Finding the power button on the demonstration model, he placed it around his neck as shown in the picture. The device whirred to life as multiple fans blew against his neck and head, surprisingly making the room feel much cooler and comfortable. Did they come in a smaller size, he wondered? Or could they be made to? If so, it would fit very well beneath a suit made mostly of leather.
Garrett watched with interest and a sort of glee at Madlaina's erosion of defiance. Once it was made clear that she could have whatever she wanted, she set about the store with the consultant, picking this and that. He simply waited for her at the counter, monitoring his Blackberry as she moved around the store. He was happy that she would be getting not only shoes she needed, but shoes she wanted. It made her eyes shine and that was a sight for sore eyes. Eventually the shoeboxes were brought up and he paid the guy as she seemed to nibble her lip and look coy. He knew she was genuinely like that, but it didn't make it any less appealing.
As they left the store, he carried her bags for her so she could loosen up further and enjoy the sights and sounds of the mall. her head swiveled from bright window to bright window, until Garrett felt a gentle tugging at his sleeve, directing him toward a shop that seemed to sell all sorts of electronic devices, both old and new, big and small. Like a child at a candy store window, she pointed with glee at a small camera. "Poloroid!" The shrill yelp of a noise caught others off guard. Garrett could only smile and indulge her further as they entered the shop together. Inside, the shop seemed to be the size of two normal shops, with small rickety shopping carts inside. He put the shoe bags in it and began to push it, finding the boxed versions of the cameras on a nearby shelf. He handed the box to her to inspect. " Same rules apply. I might even get a thing or two this time." He smiled and winked at her, happy to have her company.
And so Micah sat. And then he spoke. His ideas were concise and prepared, though they seemed to run a bit like a tap left on too long. He had probably obsessed over it a great deal. It was like a stream of consciousness that had been dammed up too long and then here it came, washing the valleys clean. Garrett couldn't help but chuckle a bit when he mentioned the mantra. ‘Kick the asses of people who don’t agree with us.’ How truth could be spoken so eloquently and even more so from the mouth of someone so fresh and new. The man before Garrett was an idea. His bold decisions and movements filled him with envy, wishing he had been so bold when he had first arrived.
There seemed to be a brief pause, perhaps for either air or to swallow down whatever nervousness Micah had. Garrett folded his hands and listened intently to the rest of the pitch. Using mutations to make the world a better place. Who knew? The jury was still out on who should enjoy the true benefit, but surely the things he spoke of could only help relations between humans and mutants. Garrett let it absorb for a moment and then he retorted. " I think it is the best idea I have heard in a long time, Micah. I think that you have a long and bright future here with us. I am happy to aid you in any way you like in this matter. I can certainly contribute Mansion funds toward this project, as well as speak to Sam about it. I also have a network of mutant operated businesses that I can involve with this endeavor if you like." With a practiced and polished flipping gesture of his fingers, he drew a card from the drawer, handing it to him. It read MORA in the center, beneath described as Mutant Outreach Resource Alliance, then his name and the title Chairman. A phone number was in the bottom right along with an email.
Garrett sat at his desk, a three dimensional image being turned and rotated on the screen before him. It was his suit, now finished for the most part. He had added a small utility belt and found some interesting devices to add, but he was still poring over a very important problem. Reach. There were a plethora of possible enemies he might be facing in the near future and many of them could put him down before he could get to them. Of course, lying in wait for an ambush was always the primary option, but sometimes that would not be a possibility. He was not getting caught in a bad spot like that.
So, how to defeat this problem? He had his own ranged attack, potent in of itself. The problem for it was that some may either be resistant to the pain spikes or in other cases, like Abyss or Isabel, they could simply come charging right through anyway. What could bridge the gap? His hand raised before him and he pushed it forward, fingers fanning outward. His wrist pulled back and moved forward, as if he was some wizard leisurely throwing spells from his palms. What could bridge the gap? The gesture and the thought kept snapping back.
A doorknob turning halted his creative process and he quickly sat up straight, closing the image on the screen out and saving it to his hard disk. A young man entered that he didn't recognize, seeming to be brimming with zest for something. It was in his eyes and on his face. Genuine interest. What ap leasant change from bored nodding.“Hi, my name is Micah. Are you Mr. Garrett Wills, the one in charge of Public Relations? If so, I have an idea I’d like to share with you. I think it could change everything.”
Garrett's own face lit up. Not only an interesting idea, but one that could change everything. And to boot, it even had something to do with his office at the Mansion. It wasn't often that Garrett's own honest interest was piqued. " Those ideas are the best kind. I'd love to hear all about it. Do shut the door, please and have a seat." he leaned forward his body signalling his interest in the coming topic, whatever it might be. In the back of his mind, the thought process over reach continued to wind.
The picture of domestic bliss, indeed. Garrett watched Maya plant a wifely kiss on Sebastian and pleasantly had no negative reaction to it. All was as it was meant to be. Jude's happy bounce slowed and his bright eyes narrowed in Garrett's direction. As much as Garrett wanted to return the gesture, he had to remember that currently Jude was a little human boy and while he might believe he knew what was what, he didn't. So he just turned a glance at the little man who sauntered off to his room.
Listening to Sebastian's comments about his studies, Garrett couldn't help but chuckle as he helped himself to a cup of tea. " Come on now, old man. There's no need to be modest. We are but babes in your midst." he watched him be courteous and try to help his wife and attend to familial matters. It was nice in a mutant sort of Norman Rockwell way. beaming with pride and confidence at Sebastian's words of praise, he didn't feel the need to retort. he just had never heard his talents put that way before.
“So, you mentioned that you had some sort of business to discuss? What are you up to now?”
Of course, business straight away. Garrett preferred it that way. Picking up his briefcase and opening it on his lap, he pulled one of the recently crafted glossy portfolios out and placed it on the table facing Sebastian. He spoke as he closed the briefcase smartly and returned it to his side, enjoying the tea during breaks." Well, I've started a non profit up to benefit mutants and their loved ones. As you can see, it is called MORA, or Mutant Outreach Resource Alliance. basically, it is an umbrella organization that will refer mutants to various facilities and places in the City where they can receive the extra attention they might need that they could not otherwise receive from the mainstream. I plan on making several visits to area businesses that might be of use to those in need and the Iris Clinic was first in my mind. So, have a look and see what you think. Also, since she is already here, I wanted to see if Maya was interested in involving the Full Circle. If nothing else, it is free advertising for the Clinic, which I know firsthand you could use." It would be nice to see mutants in the waiting room rather than dust bunnies.
