Malhyanth
The Wolverine
Please do not enter this RP unless expressly invited.
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This roleplay is a fandom roleplay based around the X-Men universe. Within it there are a multitude of races, mutations, and roles to be fulfilled.
Religions, cults, tribes, civilisations are all broad and varied, much like the types of people that live in this world.
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This was not where Nix wanted to be. As he stood, suitcase in hand, looking up at the giant grey stone building, like a giant mansion, his chest heaved as a huge sigh, and his bright blue eyes narrowed a moment before he decided it time to push through the large metal gate, and enter their foreign world. It was true he'd been showing signs of a mutation for a while; he'd hidden it, as his father was in the task force assigned to Mutant Monitoring and Eradication, should it be deemed they were a threat to humanity. When his... power... started to manifest, at first it had shown as what looked like frost bite travelling up his fingers, but he was so often in contact with his mother and his friends, he barely absorbed any of their Energy. They felt tired around him, and sometimes they passed out, but everyone had just believed these individuals to be weaker than the average human. Only Nix had seen the pattern. And as he hit puberty, he noticed its speed increased, and the reaction from his family and friends when they touched his skin seemed more intense.
When his mother had nearly died of a heart attack, Nix had fled. He left home, and for a while walked the streets. He'd stolen what food he needed; he'd never had a huge appetite after all, and yet seemed to remain slim, and grow like a weed, as his mother had always said, tall. He was 18 now, and he was behind in school and learning, as he'd never attended again when he'd run away from home at 15 to save their lives. He had noticed his strange affliction develop further. His father had made contact once. It was to say he knew what he was, and that Mutants like him were a danger to humans, and if he ever heard of Nick, as he'd then been called, hurting another human with his power, his father would have no choice but to "put him down". Nix, as he changed his name to, didn't need it spelling out to him what his father meant.
However, as to be expected, the day came his powers put him in danger of being caught. He was maintaining his health with brushes of skin to skin contact with random people in crowds, maintaining his healthy status, till he was at a point where he was mostly normal for 2-3 days. It meant he had a window. A window to turn tricks, and survive; he needed to pay for his hotel, needed to pay for food, for travel. Men liked him. Said he was attractive. Hounded him from their cars as he walked down the streets. He allowed the first John in after he'd "topped up", as he called it, and earnt himself enough to live for a week. It was degrading, and he certainly hadn't enjoyed it, but it was work he could do without being at risk; if these men passed out if his power initiated, he simply left with their money, and they sought him again, thinking they'd simply been "that good". It made him shiver as he pushed through the gate to this building... this School for Gifted Youngsters. He caught his reflection in the panel that had provided him access and saw a young man with a haunted face; hollow cheeked and bags under sparkling blue eyes, bony and jutting all over. He didn't look like his years; he looked old. Damaged. He turned from the reflection and shook his head, his meagre possessions in the small suitcase rattling as he walked away, towards the front door.
The day the Immortal had turned up was an odd one. He'd been "topping up", walking through the crowd, brushing finger tips lightly over the flesh of wrists and backs of hands. He hadn't expected to be grabbed like a pickpocket, thick fingers gripping bruisingly tight around his wrist. He'd gasped and squeaked a little, as his dehydrated fingers were raised, so the short, hairy man with the intense, ageless stare glared deep into his soul. His snarl had shocked Nix, and he'd tried to tear his wrist from the man's grip. It didn't work, the man was supernaturally strong.
"What's this, bub?" Humans separated around the scene like it wasn't happening, the hairy man's forehead breaking into a sweat as he continued to grip Nix, the dehydrated, frost bite looking hands plumping before their eyes as the 'Energy' that flowed around their bodies mingled, and Nix's stole this immeasurably old being. It was Nix that passed out; the man was intense, and it drowned his body. He ended up like a rag doll, held up by his wrist only, and the Immortal simply stood there, unsure if he should let go, or keep him semi-standing. Seemed he decided on dragging them to an alley, where he dropped Nix unceremoniously, and left him with a card of sorts, saying there was a place for him; Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Nix had woken to the footsteps retreating, and his body fully healed. And, unsurprisingly, it had lasted for a good few days over his usual; seemed that Immortal mutant had fed his body very well, and rubbed off on him a bit!
Nix remembered packing his things there and then, removing himself from that world, and finding his way here. As he approached, the door opened, and a young woman approached, dark skinned, with silver hair. Nix stopped, face scrutinising; his electrifying blue eyes held suspicion. The woman simply spread her arms with a smile. "Professor Xavier is waiting for you. Please, follow me." Nix felt apprehensive, but nodded, swallowing hard as he shifted his suitcase to the other hand, and followed the silver haired lady into the building. Inside, student aged children, and adults, all drifted about. Some stopped to watch the new intake, others continued. Nix wondered if his childhood friend was here; they'd disappeared quite suddenly one day, and no one seemed inclined to search. Had they been a mutant and come here?
