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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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.
"MotherF***er!!" A heavy, hairy knuckled fist sank squarely into the nose of a surprised bystander, as the target of the left hook slipped out of the way at the last second. The new addition to the fight toppled over like a tree, body completely ridged- a complete K.O. if she had ever seen one. The two brawlers who had started it continued on, ignoring the fallen man like he didn't exist.
"That all you got A**hole? Huh?!" The smaller of the two men danced around another thrown punch, his lip bleeding from where the other man had landed a surprise fist in his face at the very start of the fight. The taller, more muscled man growled out a few colorful sentences that he slung together, and chased the other guy further into the club. A pair of bored blue eyes watched on, accompanied by an exaggerated, drawn out sigh.
You would think that being one of the only decent looking females in the bar would garter a good amount of attention from the men folk, but she had forgotten that this place was geared more towards brawling than her type of entertainment. Megan crossed her legs casually, her head propped back in her palm, elbow on the counter supporting her. Well, even if she wasn't being entertained quite as much as she would have liked... she was out of the house and she had snagged herself a free drink.
"Hey, sweet thang... can I buy you a drink?"
...make that two free drinks. The twenty three year old adopted her most alluring fake smile and turned to the tall, gangly looking man who had sidled up next to her. He was wearing dark leathers and a bandanna wrapped tightly around his head. She guessed biker dude. Awesome. "...From you, darling? Of course~" Practically purring, she winked at him. He responded with a grin, gap-toothed grin and turned away to order her a second of what she was already drinking. Her sentry spiderlings outside the bars doors chattered silently about someone new coming in, and she turned her attention this way and that looking for a new face. The soft clink of glass on counter dragged her attention back to the matter at hand, and she turned on her stool to find a nice, shiny new drink.... and a haggard old man still sitting next to her.
Ah, oh well. One could only hope that they vanished when you closed your eyes. "You know, darlin, you look young enough to be someone's daughter."
...Right. Because that wasn't creepy at all. Megan's eyes darted toward the crowd around her, while she smiled at the man. She had a friend hanging around out there somewhere... she just needed to spot him. Adjusting her silky halter top, she wiggled further away from the pedo biker and tapped her fingers on her jean clad legs. "Oh, well aren't you just the sweetest thing. Thank you!" If her voice got any sweeter, everyone in the room would get diabetes.
Posted by joejoe1990 on Jun 7, 2011 3:12:58 GMT -6
Guest
Joe felt very good tonight, and he looked good enough to match.
This bar had been recommended to Joe by a customer the other day, and although these tips had so far sucked, it was still a nice excuse to take the top off of the Race truck, and dress up a bit. Joe reflected on his decision of clothing for a moment, he was wearing the only footwear he had, black combat boots. He had his best pair of dark blue jeans, with a tan leather belt and a medium sized “Chevy Trucks” belt buckle, and a black button up shirt tucked in neatly. This wasn’t New York style, but that may have had something to do with where Joe was from, being the middle of no and where.
As he parked the Chevy he grabbed his cowboy hat from the back seat and checked his reflection in the mirror. Joes Ego was sufficiently boosted when he couldn’t help but smile at himself. Honestly, looking like this, who could manage not to smile at me? Joe thought to himself as he walked towards the bar and calmly walked inside.
Once again, his customer had either gotten a very poor read on Joe, or simply didn’t like Joes haircut, because this wasn’t The Joe’s natural habitat. Joe had started to question if New York had anything that was his style at all though. Either way, he was all dressed up, had spent the fuel, he was going to have a good time one way or another.
Joe stood next to the bar and ordered a beer while he surveyed the rather violent seeming crowd, looking for potential threats and to see if there were any women even worth speaking to. I’m so glad I let that paranoid voice in my head talk me into concealing that dagger in my boot…
Pedo biker kept talking... something uninteresting about his bike and apartment and blah blah blah. Megan's icy eyes landed on her friends dark head bouncing around in the crowd as he made his way back toward her from the bathroom. She couldn't help but smirk a little. The boy was a year older than her, but he had kept himself cooped up inside his apartment for the last few years. He had made the unfortunate mistake of happening into her place of work while she was on shift, and had captured her attention in a bad way.
Colton wasn't exactly a people person. He was a mutant, and a night owl... but far from being social. The young man had locked himself away from society after his power has manifested, and he had paid a price for neglecting himself in the process. He was taller than most his age, and lanky by all standards. His clothes draped off of him in awkward angles, and he had to constantly flip his hair from his eyes in order to see where he was going. Not only that, but his skin was afflicted with man dime sized patches of hardened scab. He not only looked like an out of place loner, but he looked like a diseased one.
...but... He was what Megan needed at the moment. Those scabs of his were used both as shields and weapons, and with a stalker on the loose she needed something to put between herself and her crazy ex who just wouldn't learn how to move the f*** on. Raising her hand slightly, she sipped at her newly acquired drink and waved Colton over. He needed to hurry up, taking his sweet time was getting her leered at. "Oh... would you look at that. My boyfriends back..." She shot the older man at her side an exaggerated 'i'm so sorry' pout, and batted her eyelashes. The boyfriend ploy usually worked to shoo them away, back on the hunt for easy prey...
"...Who, him?" The scraggly man laughed harshly and didn't budge from his seat even as Colton sidled shyly up to Megan's side. "He ain't nothin' but a pup. You need a real man darlin.... not some speckled goth kid." Colton reeled back from the insult with a soft well I never!, pointedly ignoring that his choice of dark clothing did tend to get him mistaken for a goth more often than not. Megan sighed, swirling her drink in her glass and eyeballed the two brawlers from before as they passed by again- still in a heated fist fight. "Yes, well... if you happen to see one, send him my way. I'm rather bored of grandpa's and college kids hitting on me." Her remark earned her a bark of a laugh. Pedo biker didn't budge. "I like your attitude... wanna go for a ride on my hog?"
Her lip curled at the offer, and she rolled her eyes. What class! Blue eyes drifted back down and locked on an odd sight.... a cowboy hat. In the middle of a biker bar... in the middle of New York city. She couldn't help but giggle, which didnt help her situation- as the biker dude took it as a sign that things were going well. The brawlers were sent back past were with shoves from the indifferent crowd, and Megan casually stuck out a foot and pushed her gangly friend into the frey. Colton automatically put up a shield of scab to protect himself, which sent both of the battered men flailing in the opposite direction. Punches were thrown, boots met gut and face alike and a number of threats and curses filled the air. Mere moments later, half of the crowd erupted into a full on brawl and Megan smirked from her seat in the corner. Pedo biker was still eyeballing her, but if she had her way that would end soon enough. Now... where had that cowboy hat gone?
Posted by joejoe1990 on Jun 7, 2011 4:18:09 GMT -6
Guest
Joe was getting some eyes from “Bikers” throughout the bar that didn’t seem to think much of his hat. Quite frankly Joe didn’t think much of them either. Joe had bought his first motorcycle when he was 17, even had been involved in some motorcycle racing. The difference? Joe loved his proper motorcycles. The kind that performed, the kind of bikes that were fast around corners, got good fuel mileage, and where able to ride more than a few miles between bars or breakdowns. All in all? Joe had not decided what he hated more, Harley Davison Motorcycles, or the MEN that ride Harley Davison bikes.
So far the biker jackasses more or less silently hated Joe. Joe did notice one particularly attractive woman with dark colored hair, and then he lost her in the crowd. About this same moment a short man whom Joe quickly dubbed Napoleon started talking some garbage about real men. This is when Joe considered going off and saying something stupid, but instead just smiled politely and walked away, noting the man’s face, just in case Joe had a good opportunity to break someone teeth later on.
Shortly after a woman who looked to be somewhere in-between her mid 30s and dead asked Joe to buy her a drink, which Joe declined as politely as he could. So far he had interacted with two people, neither were worth Joe’s time. This was completely a waist of his time, and he started towards the door, debating between video games or Comedy Central tonight.
That’s when Joe spotted the young woman again, slowly making her way in his direction. Joe sipped his beer and turned away as he tried to both look casual and think of something original and charming to say.
The fight curled back toward her position, and Megan blinked as the hat blinked back into existence, then out of it again. Seriously... a cowboy hat? She had to find out who this guy was... The last time she had seen one of those had been years ago, back in Oregon. ...wait a minute...
A spike of fear flew up her spine, and she coughed into her drink. She knew one person from Oregon, who happened to have a few wide brimmed hats of his own. sonofab*tch. If it was Trent, she needed to get the hell out of the bar, maybe the state even... Slamming her drink down, she gave the old biker the cold shoulder and slid from her stool. She was going to find that damn hat, and it's owner was going to get a face full of web.
...well, unless he was cute. Then she might just yell at him a little, or something. Megan sidestepped a few stragglers from the fight, her eyes searching for and locking onto the hat. She calmed instantly.
It wasn't Trent. Just some cowboy wannabe. Her lips returned to their normal smirk, and she continued on toward him. She didn't even realize that Pedo biker had gotten up and followed along behind her the entire way. "You know," she started, stopping a little ways away from the guy with her hands tucked into her back pockets. "That look went out of style a long time ago."
She heard biker dude clear his throat behind and rolled her eyes again. If the old guy wasn't careful, she was going to have her spiders jump him the second he walked out the door. She leveled her stare back on the hat fellow. "The only cowboy left around here is the Marlboro man."
Posted by joejoe1990 on Jun 7, 2011 18:49:33 GMT -6
Guest
You know, That look went out of style a long time ago. She was then interrupted by another biker bandana with a small member. Joe was tiring of them and their kind quickly, and like most men, a combo of beer and attractive young women was enough to cause semi violent tendencies. Joe's pacifistic nature pushed these thoughts aside just in time for him to catch the rest of the woman's statement. "The only cowboy left around here is the Marlboro Man."
Joe sidestepped to let a drunken man through, conveniently placing himself almost between the lady and the pervert. "What can I say, maybe I'm old fashion." Joe grinned and tipped his hat playfully, which seemed to somehow bother the other gentlemen also. Joe chose to ignore the glares as he continued. "My name is Joseph J Klepto the Third, what's yours?" Joe asked casual as he shifted his drink to his left hand. "You may call me Joe if you prefer, miss."
Again the pervert made some sort of noise, and Joe simply ignored him, keeping a calm and confident smile on his face, doing his best to anger the insecure looser.
Joseph the last cowboy. It had a little bit of a ring to it. "I take it your horse is hitched outside?"
With a smirk, she crossed her arms over her chest and let the men folk maneuver around her. Pedo biker did not like being pressed out of the way, and with one jerk of his chin a few other scraggly old men wandered over to join them. Megan eyed them for a moment, before shrugging off her concern. She wasn't worried, she had a Joe shaped wall in between herself and the grandpa gang.
"Call me Charlotte, Joesph. Pleasure to meet someone so unconcerned with fitting in."
She heard a familiar voice call out to her from behind, Colton's to be exact, but ignored it. Someone more interesting had happened by... "Hey, buddy. We're gonna have a problem if you don't step out of the way." Megan's eyes curved up a little with joy at the prospect of getting to see the cowboy fight... but when another handful of leather clad men stepped forward behind pedo biker... she lost the urge to start something. Five on one was okay... but ten? Lame. Utterly lame.
The door wasn't far from them, and she had her scooter was parked just outside."Don't you guys have something better to do than pick fight and harass women half your age?" Yeah, nice and sensible question to halt any growing tension in its tra- "You know, like change your depends?" Oop. There she went. Peace right out the window... Pedo biker's face screwed up angrily. He slung a rude name at her and wrenched his fist back, intending to send it flying straight into joe's face.
Posted by joejoe1990 on Jun 8, 2011 3:35:55 GMT -6
Guest
“Charlotte, what a beautiful name.” Joe ignored the unhappiness from his adoring fans as he kissed the back of her hand gently. This, cobbled with Charlotte’s accusing the men of wearing old lady diapers made the next moment inevitable.
One of the uglier and louder men was being made to look a fool, therefore biker educate said he had to try and hit the closest man that was not a biker. This was unfortunate.
Joe’s reaction was lightning fast, especially when compared to the old man attacking him. The movements were not complicated; he just was more level headed, faster thinking, and more balanced than his first adversary. Joe moved back at the last moment, causing the man who was expecting a nice semi solid face to stop his momentum, to instead tumble forward. Joe grabbed a hold the man’s arm while he was off balance, and for good measure stomped the man’s foot as he attempted to regain his composure, and watched him fall awkwardly to the ground. Joe was pleased; he had done this without losing his cowboy hat.
You would have had to have been watching very closely to understand what had just taken place. Without loosing a beat Joe handed his beer to the young woman so as not to spill and waited for the next moron. They all seemed slightly hesitant, so Joe addressed the crowd and the young lady calmly with a smile. “Anyone else care to dance, or should I politely take my leave?”
Ick. Her palm was suddenly assaulted with a kiss. So, Joesph was also a gentle man? She shook it off as he turned to deal with the pedo biker. She had to give him credit for being quick, and not getting punched by a senior. It would have been disappointing if he had been taken out with one feeble hit...
Once he had taken down the man though, she noticed the others rolling up sleeves and setting drinks down left and right. Most of the bar had gone quiet, all eyes turned their way as people waited to see the impending brawl get under way. Some of them even had snacks at hand, like it was a movie. Megan blinked as Joe daintily handed her his beer, before curling her lip at the drink. She set it aside on a table without batting an eye. She hated beer. Disgusting drink that one was only supposed to revert to when you were low on cash, or- in her case- willing buyers.
She felt her grin slip back into place as the cowboy challenged the crowd, but didn't exactly want to stick around to find out if his bravado matched his strength. "Oh, hey.. look at the time. Let's get going, cowboy." She reached out and snagged his arm, half steering him, half dragging him past people out into the street. The bikers roared and gave chase, getting momentarily caught up at the door as a small group of people were sent flying.
The dark haired spider mistress whistled to her children to either follow, or get left behind. She heard a chirping of yessum!'s and grinned to herself as she hauled ass to her scooter. Once there, she hopped on the little red vehicle and brought the small engine roaring to life. Handing her dented helmet back to Joe, she waited for him to hop on, before putting the pedal to the metal out onto the street. The biker gang clambered out behind them, hopping onto their bikes as well to give pursuit.
"I hope you can hold on tight!" She shouted, peeking back over her shoulder to see how close the bikes were getting. ... Oh boy, they were closing in fast...
Posted by joejoe1990 on Jun 9, 2011 16:35:26 GMT -6
Guest
This was a very, very strange conundrum for Joe. There were two policies that Joe held close to heart, never refuse an attractive woman who grabs your arm and drags you out of bar, and the second policy was never ever, ever NEVER get on a scooter… If Joe’s truck had been parked somewhere that he had to worry about angry bikers vandalizing it, if Joe wasn’t desperate for personal interaction, or if he didn’t find Megan to be so fascinating, he would have refused.
Oh yes, and if they didn’t have a crowd of angry scorned bikers fallowing them he might have resisted this option also.
She handed Joe a helmet, which he found even more distasteful than the scooter. Joe also was not sure what to do with his fantastic hat, and while fumbling Megan had applied the throttle of the scooter, and Joe accidentally dropped the helmet.
Great… Im on a scooter, piloted by a woman whom I met six minutes ago, and I have a heard of angry midlife crisis’s chasing me. Now I owe this woman a helmet.
All he could do was hold onto Megan with his right arm, and hold onto his hat with his left. He wasn’t about to pull a weapon unless one of the bikers did so first. They were getting very close though.
The rumble of motorcycle engines was growing closer... a sound Megan did not like. Her scooter could go fast, yes, but against a hoard of Harleys? They didn't stand a chance, unless she took to using a little fancy maneuvering. Her bike sped up as their pursuers started to close in. She could hear hoots and hollers over the wind whipping past them. Blue eyes squinted, red lips thinned and she ducked closer to the handle bars.
Fond memories of the last time she had done such a thing sprung to life, as well as a cheeky grin on her lips. A newly met gender shifter clinging on for dear life as she hauled ass down the roads toward the hardware store.Oh, those were good times. She shifted her weight, ripping past a car up ahead that had the audacity to actually go the speed limit. Her small red scooter left her more than enough room, where as the men on their decorated hogs had to take a little more time to move past traffic.
They were approaching a busier section of the city, which really just wouldn't do. She may have been booking it down the street at double the recommended speed... but she wasn't crazy! Taking on the full brunt of New York traffic would slow her down and get them killed. Or arrested. Both were equally bad. Without uttering a word of warning, she jerked her bike to the right, drifting a little as she turned down a side street that would lead them into a rather quiet neighborhood. She left black tracks in her wake and the larger bikes would have to slow down in order to make the turn without crashing.
The sound of screeching breaks, then metal scraping against pavement brought a grin to her face. someone hadn't slowed down. She chanced a peek over her shoulder, noticing that two of the bikers were missing.
"Two down! A butt load to go!" Absently, as she weaved haphazardly around a line of cars waiting for the street light to change to green, she wondered if she had unintentionally kidnapped the man who had his arm hooked around her waist. She decided it was possible, but that she didn't really care all that much...
Posted by joejoe1990 on Jun 10, 2011 0:27:48 GMT -6
Guest
Joe heard the sound of screeching brakes, and even in his current situation, all he could think was something to the effect of. You paid $17,000 for a bike, which is $10,000 more than it was worth, and you can’t afford to service your brakes. Midlife crisis, overcompensating moron! This did have one practical and helpful bit, at least 5 of the other morons would stop to assist.
The somewhat concerned passenger simply couldn’t help but wish he had his motorcycle for this. It would effortlessly run away from these buffoons and Joe was well practiced in splitting lanes on his bike from some time he had spent in California, something New York Harley riders would have never done. Joe then rationalized that while he was dreaming about things he would change about this situation, he might as well put himself inside his Deuce and a Half, or erase all the Harley Davidson chasing him, scratch that, erase all the Harley’s from the planet, or any of the thousands of other ways he could think of to rectify this situation.
Another brief fantasy of firing a semi automatic shotgun off the back of the scooter at the crowd of ugliness that was fallowing them, then Joe pictured a .50 cal mounted to the back of the scooter, and then decided to count the remaining crowd. Joe counted twelve, give or take three jerks. One thing that was factual was that Megan was a master of her chosen vehicle, and Joe wondered what kind of havoc she could create with a larger bike.
"I don’t suppose you have a plan?" Joe shouted over the hamster like roar of the scooter.
All in all, Joe had given in to the situation and was simply enjoying the silliness of all of it. How terrible would it be for these gentlemen to have to explain that they lost to a scooter?
Her companion shouted something about a plan... Plan? Pfft. Who needed a plan when you were hot? Smirking, she shrugged a shoulder and cut another sharp corner. "Who needs plans?" The traffic around them picked up to the point that Megan was passing people left and right... which was not something she liked doing. It attracted attention. Icy eyes shot left and right, looking for an easy escape from the situation they were in.
Her eyes locked on the dark indent of an alley on the opposite side of the street. An alley, which looked wide enough for two scooter s side by side. The perfect escape... only problem: there was a lot of traffic heading their way.
Megan's lips pursed and she took a moment to consider which option as better. nearly getting them killed by driving recklessly through opposing traffic... or staying the course and running out of gas with a murder of bikers after them. Eh... she always did hate making decisions. "Hunker down, cowboy, and hold on!"
Megan turned her bike so sharply that she had to stick her leg out after the bike stopped skidding, to make sure it didn't topple over on them. Her alley of choice was longer than she had expected, and darker... but small. She'd like to see those jerks squeeze their shiny Harley's in after her! Half way in she was able to drop her speed until she could hear if they were following from a distance. She glanced around, lips pursed again and followed the winding corridor of the alley until it dumped that back off on a street.
A street she didn't recognize. "Huh... I think... we may be lost." With just a hint of humor in her voice, she pulled her scooter to a stop and listened. Not a trace of roaring engine on the air. Apparently she had lost them. Turning, she raised an eyebrow at her passenger. "Still alive back there?"
Posted by joejoe1990 on Jun 10, 2011 4:24:38 GMT -6
Guest
To say the least, Joe was in a bit of a panic. He was flying sideways on a scooter. Piloted by a Kamikaze. Pursued by morons. This was not his area of expertise, and one of the few things that Joe honestly did fear. A few breathing exercises later, they were flying down an ally so narrow Joe turned to the side, worried about getting his shoulders removed.
When they came to a stop they were in one of the worst neighborhoods in New York, surrounded by small building that looked to be in terrible shape. Almost just to finish off the cliche' a piece of newspaper blew across the street. Not the safest neighborhood for two white people on a scooter.
Finally, the madness slowed to a halt, and Joe was also happy to notice that the sound of angry over-compensators was finally fading. The fantastic young pilot mentioned something about being lost, which was no worry to Joe, having been a long time delivery driver and had an excellent sense of direction. Now all that was left to do was enjoy the rest of his evening with his lovely kidnapper. "Ya, I am good to go. Got any other fantastic adventures for us tonight?"
Joe wondered if he would regret asking this, but after a quick reflection, it was obvious that this would be a night filed under ‘Joes most interesting adventures in NYC’ Joe adjusted his cowboy hat with a smile and then commented. "Im not sure you noticed, but I think I owe you a new helmet…" Joe trailed off, then decided that this was not a bad thing at all. "I hope you don’t think this too forward of me, but I do have own a few motorcycle helmets that I never wear back at my apartment, and its not far from here." He stopped and then quickly and awkwardly added, "So that I can replace the helmet… that I lost… because…
"Ya, I am good to go. Got any other fantastic adventures for us tonight?"
She hooked him with a soft squinted glare. "There you go with those plans of yours again." Tsk-ing him, she tapped her fingers on the handle bars of her scooter and glanced around. It was like she had stumbled out of New York and into a ghost town. The only thing keeping her rooted down were the looming buildings everywhere. "Rule number one of having a good time? Never make plans. Rule number two? Hoof it!"
The twenty four year old grinned and set her scooter back in motion, pulling out slowly onto the deserted road. "Im not sure you noticed, but I think I owe you a new helmet…"
Ah, her helmet. She did recall seeing it roll off into the street as they started their little escapade. One shoulder shrugged, and she peeked over her shoulder at him while stopping at a red light. "I did, and you do." She winked at him, and turned back to watching the light.
"I hope you don’t think this too forward of me, but I do have own a few motorcycle helmets that I never wear back at my apartment, and its not far from here. So that I can replace the helmet… that I lost… because…"
Oh... how painfully and delightfully awkward! Turning back with an eyebrow cocked, she let her smirk grow tenfold and simply watched as he ran himself into the ground. It was cute, in a way. The last time she had witnessed someone stumble over their words around her had been that annoying coffee boy who wouldn't leave her alone... She didn't miss him, but she sure did miss getting free coffee in the morning. Ah, the unfairness of life.
Megan felt honor bound to mention something about how taking a tour of his apartment was a bad idea... not only because she tended to come back unannounced and make herself at home, but also because she had an ex on her tail who could turn his home to plaster dust and wood chippings. With a soft, indecisive sigh she folded her arms across her chest and grasped for mental straws.
She ended up with the short one, go figure. "Being to forward is asking me why i'm still wearing pants when you introduce yourself... Don't laugh, that's actually a pick up line." Turning in her seat, she motioned him off her bike with one hand. "You do owe me a helmet though, so lead the way." Scooting back a little, she made room for him to take control of the bike and tapped her fingers on her jeans. Megan was not the type to take directions. She was more likely to ditch you in the middle of the city after getting irritated for missing a turn three times, than she was to follow simple orders.
"Just don't scratch the paint, Cowboy." She added in, with another lashy wink.
