bakerstreet | I'll protect her on my own orders!

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I'll protect her on my own orders!

PROTECTOR/PROTECTED

There’s no real push to your actions; you do them as if they were second nature. Perhaps, initially, you were assigned this role, as protector and guardian of this person. Maybe you took it on because there was no one else. A natural guardian or not, good or evil, you caught a shining to them and felt…something. Something hard to explain, but you want to keep them safe and happy - or at the very least, content. No one is as dedicated to them as you. You want them to reach their goals; to help them achieve them, you'll do what you must, even if it means being their gofer or their right hand.

But most of all, you don't want them to end up like you. They're worth more than that.

Yet somehow, along the line, you became more to them, more than just their protector. You protect them anew and you've found a different way to make them happy. It's selfish, too, because you love them in your way and you want them more than anything. You may feel guilty, of course. They don't, though, and that's what matters.

Comment with your character, preferences, and what you'd prefer to play: protector or protected.
Remember, you don't have to be so rigid. A traditionally weak character can "protect" a traditionally strong one in emotional ways.
Reply to others.

Promise ✖ You told them you would take care of their lover, no matter what. You intend to follow through with that.
Close ✖ What are friends for if not taking care of unfinished business?
Debt Owed ✖ Kindness or favor has to be repaid, even if it's an investment in someone else.
Atonement ✖ Whether or not you particularly cared for the person who's gone is irrelevant. You just need to make up for past sins.
No Good ✖ You're taking care of the one left behind, but not out of good intentions. There may be ulterior motives here - no, there are definitely ulterior motives here. Or maybe this is the one good thing you've done in your life.
Guilt ✖ It's your fault that you're here and their significant other isn't. It's a paltry repayment.
Bearer of Bad News ✖ You can't blame them for wanting to shoot the messenger. You are telling them their lover is dead.
Related ✖ In days past, the living partner would be cared for by their dead partner's family. As a sibling or cousin of the deceased, you want to continue that tradition and take care of "family."
Wo/man Up ✖ Actually, their lover isn't dead, they're just dead to you, unable or unwilling to take care of business. You're stepping up.
Friends ✖ You were all friends before, so it's only natural for you to want to look out for them now.
Derisive ✖ ...this is the person they loved so much? This is who you're supposed to protect? Pathetic.
Resentful ✖ You can never forgive them. They're the reason your lover is dead, no matter how they treat you.
What They Saw in You ✖ You're beginning to see why someone would love them, how they'd want to give up their old ways and change. It's almost...nice.
Warming Up ✖ If you didn't get along at first, the claws are being put away now. It's better to at least be civil, isn't it?
Still in Danger ✖ Whatever killed one half of the pair is still out there, and the other half is in danger themselves.
Other Complications ✖ Not only did your mutual acquaintance leave behind a lover, but also children. You find yourself getting closer and closer to them, too, even if they aren't yours.
Compromised ✖ You can't look after them with a level head. You love them.
Can't Love Again ✖ You've lost before. You can't risk losing again, can you?
Out of the Dark ✖ One or both of you find yourselves in a hole. You can barely eat, hardly sleep, and depression has taken hold of you. Together, though, you may find the light and a way out of despair.
First Time ✖ Simply what it says. You two have taken your relationship to the next level.
Changed ✖ Before, you were bitter. Hard. Jaded. Now, helping someone - specifically, helping this person - has brought a new kind of joy into your life. You could get used to it. Easily and dangerously used to it, to be brutally honest. You shouldn't allow it.
Living Together ✖ You can take care of them more throughly if you're in the same place as they are, obviously.
Hidden Jealousy ✖ When their lover was alive, you were jealous of everything they had - including the fact that they had the person you're looking after now. Admitting this may make you feel like the most awful person in the world.
Secrets Revealed ✖ Eventually, your involvement with the death of their beloved will come out, and they will never be able to look at you the same way.
Dependent ✖ Replacing one unhealthy habit with another, you've become utterly dependent on your relationship with your caretaker, your guardian, your lover.
Won't Be a Replacement ✖ You can't help but feel as if you're merely serving as a stand in for what they've lost. It's understandable, yet you still can't allow yourself to be that and only that.
Not Really Gone ✖ What is dead should stay dead, but what if who you thought was gone isn't really out of the picture? Will they be happy with finding someone else so cozy and in love with their special someone?
The Same Mistakes ✖ You're falling into the same patterns that lead to their death. Will you meet the same fate?
Who's Helping Who ✖ You think you're taking care of them and helping them through their loss. Is that the case? But who's never been this happy before in their life?
Move On ✖ It's time to put ghosts to rest and let old demons go. You can't let your life become a graveyard.
Tragedy ✖ The ending is unhappy or even deadly for both of you.
Happy Ending ✖ In contrast to the above, you're both able to live as together as happily as you possibly can, whatever can be allowed.
WILDCARD

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Could be either, but expect her to take an active role if she's the one being protected.]

He made a tactical mistake coming down here without scouting the area first. Looking out a hole in the wall of his hiding place at the old Morlock tunnels, occupied with life that was at the moment extremely hostile to the Master of Magnetism, he could accept that he'd made a mistake. He thought there were mutants down here. He came to offer them a place above ground.

It didn't go according to plan.

These creatures were...well, they retained some vestigial humanity, but their mutations were so extreme that none of them looked human anymore. There were animal features and some appendages he'd only seen on horror movie monsters. He doubted they were mutants. The product of some lab, perhaps. Maybe the victims of some bizarre poisoning. Whatever they were, there was not enough humanity left to reason with. And he had tried.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had tried dealing with them as well, it seemed. He'd seen bones and bits of uniform scattered around the debris in the tunnel. Here in his hiding place, a small side tunnel, he could sense a second agent. The metal on the uniform and the weapon were unmistakable.

Magneto knew the helmet and the red and purple armor he wore introduced him quicker than he could, so he simply said quietly, "Come on out. If you want to live, we need to leave. The exit is blocked by the creatures, but there's a dwelling further down this tunnel where we should be able to hide until they calm down. There's a metal plate sealing the entrance but I...hopefully...should be able to get it open."

Hopefully he could, because he hadn't come out of that first encounter unscathed. Half a dozen porcupine-like quills stuck out of his shoulder, and he could feel his arm tingling as some sort of weak poison tried to work on him.

The uniforms and bones were what was left of her STRIKE team. SHIELD had been receiving reports for months about sightings of strange humanoid creatures living in the sewers and abandoned subway tunnels underneath the city. Director Fury had instructed her to take one of the elite STRIKE teams to gather more intel on whatever was living down there.

But it had been a complete shit show of a clusterfuck. Without knowing exactly what lived down there, there was no way to adequately prepare with the right kinds of weapons or the right armor. The confines of the tunnels meant that long guns were useless. The team would have to rely on handguns and other short range weapons. That obviously had not ended well.

The voice from another tunnel caught her completely off guard, and she swiveled in that direction. The thermal goggles attached to her helmet identified a target down another side tunnel. Hill made sure to keep a wall to her back since there was no one else to watch her six. She'd sustained a few injuries herself. Most notably the gash to her left leg.

"Identify yourself!"

"Quiet, agent. I am not at my full strength." An understatement. His power, already reduced, had been taxed enough by his effort to drive the creatures off and find cover that he could feel the beginnings of a nosebleed. "I would rather not have to fight the creatures off again."

After checking the hole in the wall to make sure the creatures hadn't heard them, Magneto rose to his feet to face the SHIELD agent. "Hmm. You're not one I recognize." Not here for him, obviously, there was too much metal. Fury knew better than to send anyone after Magneto without being armed properly. His instinct earlier was right. A glance at her leg confirmed. They'd been sent after the creatures. "I am Magneto." He could practically hear Charles chastising him. Couldn't you be a little kinder to them? He sighed. "Erik Lehnsherr. And we really do need to get somewhere safer, agent, while I still have the strength to open the door. We may be able to find at least a few supplies inside that haven't decayed yet."

He gestured down the tunnel she'd come from at a large metal cap sealing off a section.

"Lehnsherr?" She slowly lowered her weapon. "What the hell are you doing down here?"

The leader of the Brotherhood was the last person Hill had expected to meet down here. She was very well aware of him, and his abilities. Suddenly, she got the feeling things had just gone from bad to worse. But he wasn't wrong; they needed somewhere to hole up and reassess the situation and figure out an exit strategy.

"Alright, we should probably get moving before those things come back."

"There were rumors of someone occupying the old Morlock tunnels." He gestured around them as he made his way to the door. "When I heard there may be mutants down here again, I came to offer the occupants my protection and a place above ground. I was...not expecting this."

He extended a hand. Slowly, the metal swung out and away from the entrance. He grunted with the strain. His nosebleed was getting worse. He waved her inside and pulled the heavy metal plate back where it had been. Then he gave a groan and reached up to pull off his helmet. He tossed it aside.

The "dwelling" had been sectioned off from a bit of unused tunnel. Fresh air came from grates above their heads, where the rumble of subway cars could also be heard. It was all one room, but had a bed, a couple couches, a place for a fire in a barrel below a chimney that had been constructed out of scrap metal, a spigot that was dripping fresh water, and dozens of cardboard boxes full of everything from packaged food to first aid supplies to changes of clothing in various styles and sizes. Though the food had long since spoiled and the clothing hadn't been in fashion since the '80s, some of the rest of the supplies were still good. On top of one of the boxes was something familiar, a jacket with the X-Men's logo.

Magneto leaned against a wall, trying to catch his breath. His arm was almost numb at this point, and he could feel the poison trying to creep outwards. "I'm going to...need your help pulling...these quills out of my shoulder. They're poisoned. Nothing...too serious, I think. Once that's done...I can help with...your leg." He was still gasping for breath. He reached up impatiently and swiped at his nose. His glove came away wet with blood.

Hill flipped the goggles up and out of the way before taking off her helmet. "I don't think anyone was expecting this. What the hell were those things were those things anyway? I've never seen mutants that looked like that."

It was almost as though someone had taken a page out of HG Wells' book about Dr. Moreau, but that wasn't possible. Hill's blood ran cold. What if it was? What if Hydra had somehow figured out how to GMO themselves a new race of crossbred mutants? That thought did not sit well with her.

Instead of dwelling on the horrifying possibility, Hill went to work rummaging through any box that looked like it had first aid supplies. She found medical shears, forceps, gauze, and even a couple of sterile suture kits.

"You'd better sit down before you pass out."