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.
Site adaptation by Sen, Lix, and Tempest. <3
Have You Seen this Evil, Possessed Teenager? (Open
It was one of those extra crisp mornings in New York when Agnes Nicholas decided to head out of the mansion and take a long walk. It was rare that Agnes had ventured out of the mansion these days, even more so out of her room, because of certain incidents that occurred with other students. Her abilities tended to make her very unpopular and try as she might to not draw attention to herself, unfortunately it was a bit difficult when bugs followed wherever she went. She tried her hardest to blend in, to go unnoticed, but people notice when bugs are floating around in their water glass and she is nearby. It was not the best of circumstances, but she survived as best she could.
It was better than living out in the streets anyway. The tall, scary woman counselor convinced her of that much.
She sighed as she strolled through the streets of New York, wearing one of her own ensembles of a dark jeans, boots, and a purple top covered by a deep gray winter coat. It was frayed and obviously had seen better days, but at least it was clean for the first time in months. Maybe that was the whole reason she wanted to go out to begin with. Whenever she was on the streets, she wore the coat underneath a ragged and dirty patchwork cloak she still owned. For the first time…she got a chance to show off a little.
Though she had no money, Agnes did not let that take away from the fact that she felt a little freer. She walked without fear because she was sure that enough time had passed that her parents would have stopped looking for her, she had at least one friend at the mansion, and though she may have had an altercation or two, she really was beginning to feel the slightest bit happy.
Still, as she passed restaurants and coffee shops, her eyes would trail to the happy patrons inside and a small pang of jealousy would ring in her heart. She would give anything for the chance to just walk into an establishment and buy something with her own, earned money. That was the one thing she felt happy about when she lived on the streets, she never stole. At least some of her morals still existed within her despite the fact that she was “demon possessed”.
She sighed as she stopped in front of a coffee shop and stared inside. There was a multitude of types of people there: college students, business people, poets, slackers, gamers, musicians. The place seemed rather busy and though Agnes wanted to join them: to smell the freshly roasting coffee on this cool morning, the mix with the bustle of several people, to just listen to the various snippets of interesting conversation she could hear, she knew that she couldn’t. Her mutation would give her away. Someone would notice the bad odor and it would only be seconds before bugs began to appear. So, reluctantly, she began to turn away…until…
“God will save you! You only need to deliver the heathens!!”
Agnes paused, her breath catching in her throat as she immediately recognized that voice. Slowly in horror she turned and spied the last person she wanted to see…her mother. Her mother, short woman with tan skin and salt and peppered hair, shouted at the street corner, holding up a sign that announced salvation while a small number of followers watched and agreed with everything she said. She screamed about the bad people of New York needing to be cleansed, about how the mutants were not people, but merely innocent souls who had been possessed by dark forces and given abilities no human should possess.
Agnes cringed as one of those signs her mother held up, had her own picture from high school on it, with bugs drawn all around and several choice words such as “pestilence”, “demon”, “evil”, “possessed” written all over it with lines pointing down. With a gasp of realization, that any of these people could recognize her, Agnes turned away before the people gathered could turn towards her. Needing an escape and fast, she glanced at the coffee shop.
Grinding her teeth anxiously, she quickly pulled open the door and ran inside, praying that the street side preaching would end soon. Accidentally she bumped into someone carrying a coffee and a danish.
The man whom Agnes had just bumped into looked irritated and immediately turned him his nose to her. The runaway was about to say sorry again when the man suddenly flared his nostrils as he caught a bad scent and turned away from her, as if trying his best to not gag. She didn’t catch on at first as to what was the cause of the man’s sudden sickness, but she caught the image that made her spine tingle. Mentally she cursed her luck as she watched a six-legged insect, crawling on its belly across the shop floor and towards her shoe. The man must have gotten a whiff of her insect scent and had turned away in disgust.
Agnes ground her teeth as she turned as well and headed deeper into the shop. She could not risk going outside and being caught by her parents. She was only now starting to find some kind of freedom that did not involve living in a dirty heap in an alleyway. She did not want to risk all of that for her parent’s maniacal attitude towards her mutant abilities. She would have to risk offending people with her powers if she still wanted to have the freedom of have them on her own terms.
With a grimace she apologized as someone bumped into her and made her way over to a table in the back of the coffee house. Thankfully it was empty and hidden away so even if her parents did happen to pass her location, they would not be able to see her. Quickly she slid herself into a chair and pretended to read a pamphlet for some free poetry jam sessions that the shop would be holding soon, all the while still keeping an eye out at the window.
She really must have looked just a little suspicious. Yes her clothes were a little ragged, but that was not the tell-tale part of her character that drew people’s attention. It was how skiddish she seemed. She was squirrely, constantly checking the window across the store, always look at that same pamphlet and pretending to read it cover to cover, even the way she nervously rubbed tips of her thumb and forefinger got people’s attention. Though no one believed she would rob the store or anything, plenty of people still had their curiosity piqued. One such person was a waitress, a tall imposing woman with fiery red hair and black lipstick who walked over to her.
“Hello, Miss. What have you decided on today.”
Startled, Agnes looked away from the window and turned to look up at the tall woman who seemed to be testing her. The runaway quickly shook her head as she picked up the pamphlet from the table top once more.
“N-No, not yet. Can I have five more minutes?”
“Oh, might I suggest something then? We have several house specials, including our bold pick of the day, our Caffe Misto and several iced coffees as well as Decaf roasts.” She announced off the top of her head and pulled out her writing pad. “We even serve several types of smoothie and baked goods, including danishes, old fashioned doughnuts, and scones…”
“That….all sounds great, but I’m just not ready to order yet. Can-?”
“Or we even several types of tea, including Black, Green, Herbal, Passion Friut, Earl Grey…”
“No, I want more tim-“
“And we have Red Eyes, Expresso Shots, or can you mix and match your own Blends, we even-“
“NO! DAMMIT! LISTEN TO ME…” Agnes yelled, inadvertently drawing all attention to her. She shook, her hands trembling, lips quivering as she tried to calm herself and looked over at the woman again who had her mouth open wide in shock. “I-I just…want a couple more minutes to decide. Please?”
As she sat there, looking guilty under the gaze of the waitress, Agnes shivered as she felt a familiar tingle in her chest. It felt almost like a heart attack, or at least what she assumed one felt like. The her chest buzzed as if she felt something out of place, something that was completely wrong with her internally, but it was no mystery what it was. She was agitated, the woman had put her on the defense and Agnes was in no mood for it. She wanted to disappear, to fade into the crowd until the demonstration outside ended…but apparently that plan was starting to fail. With a gulp she gave another look to the woman who now looked completely upset at being yelled at.
The buzzing wanted to grow louder but Agnes grit her teeth to calm herself down and keep the sound from being audible.
“I-I’m sorry…just….five minutes…please.” she pleaded. She then watched with some satisfaction as the redheaded waitress huffed and turned back to head behind the counter. Only a little relieved, she turned back to the window and glanced at several people, all of which even glimpsed or glared at her.
Meekly she held up the pamphlet to look through it again, all the while counting down five minutes and praying that the troupe outside would leave before her time here ran out.
((I hope you don't mind I NPC'ed Agnes' mother, please let me know if you would like me to make any changes to my post. Also, I hope it's ok I jumped in. One final thing: sorry it's a long post))
Crazies had always littered the streets of New York. Those odd people that shouted out about the second coming of the Lord and how everyone must repent or be dragged to hell. Though Ahorta never particularly entertained the thought, she took the pamphlets for some light reading. It was always fun to see just how crazy people were, of course, completely unaware of her own mental state. This day did not seem to have many crazy sign holding people, screaming their pleas for repentance down the already filthy streets, then again, Ahorta had not been looking for a crazy sign-holder today.
It was only fair that she ran into one when she least wanted to read. The woman was shorter and quite ugly to the unstable mutant. She held up a sign of some girl with bugs around her. A tingling sensation travelled up her spine like a tarantula making it's way to her neck and she even shuttered. The woman immediately directed her attention at Ahorta, noticing the shared disgust for 'vermin'. "You have seen the evils! You have seen it, I can tell!" For a moment, Ahorta nodded her head in agreement. Sure she had seen the evils of the streets, but who had not?
"These mutants, they are the worst! Only the Lord should have power, these mutants are a disgrace!" she spat out. Her words pierced Ahorta like the fangs of a poisonous snake and all emotion, or the small amount of amusement that she had allowed to display on her face, drained immediately. Though her mouth was covered, as always, by a surgical mask, her lips had curled and her eyes had narrowed. "Oh, and I suppose YOU'RE God's gift to humanity?! I suppose you can cleanse the world of mutants, single-handedly! I see YOU for what YOU really are!" There had been a time where her mind was not this fragile, where she could see and speak to people as if all of them looked the same, at least humanoids. Now her fractured mind had a tendency to turn humans into her phobias: newts, frogs, snakes, spiders, centipedes, tornados, prostitutes, catepillars, drunks, clowns, syringes, bugs and all sorts of the likes.
This particular woman, like the feeling she had given Ahorta's back, was a tarantula, short, squat, hairy, brown, messy, and a body that does not fit. Ahorta's body temperature rose as she thought of the best way to get rid of a giant tarantula, those eight beady eyes glaring back at her, taking the crazy mutant in from various angles. "I see! You're one of them!" the woman shouted back.
"NO! YOU'RE ONE OF THEM! I see you! You're beady eyes, your coarse brown skin, your many legs, twisting and grinding with every step you take! I see your fangs, those odd feelers in front of your spewing mouth! I ought to SQUASH you!" The other woman paused for a bit, looking down at herself as if to make sure she really did not look like that. As Ahorta took a breath to speak more, an authoritative voice broke through her rant. It was the Police, they had heard the screaming and decided to break up the fight. No encounter with the Police was ever promising, and if they tried to ID her and realized she corroded through the paper instead of leaving an actual print, who knows the price for her capture? If she were caught by the Police, she would spend the night in jail and be picked up the next day by those crazy people with their pens and notepads and 'and how did you feel about that?' questions. She did not want to go back there. Perhaps in this situation, silence was the best answer.
"Is there a problem here, ladies?" one of the officers asked. He was a tall man, a bit skinny for a cop, but whatever he lacked in body mass, he made up in the bulletproof vest under his uniformed shirt. His nametag read A. Wallut, but Ahorta subconsiously placed an 'n' after the 'l' and 'u' to create 'a wallnut'. "She's a heath-"
"Not worth my time!" Ahorta snorted, walking away from the situation. The cop tried to stop her, but ultimately decided it was easier for everyone if the situation diffused by simply walking away from it. A few steps down the street made her freeze in her spot and look down. Perhaps 3 inches ahead of her black boots were three beetles, all silkily black and positively disgusting. They seemed to not mind her at all, or anyone around them, they were on their way somewhere. The traffic driving by on the streets seemed to miss the bugs by only a few centimeters as the three made their way across the street, away from the masked open-mouthed woman.
Curiousity caused her to investigate. Bugs were disgusting! But she had never seen them go somewhere in unison, not unless they were ants. She followed them (while remaining a safe enough distance to keep her food in her stomach) into a small cafe, where they travelled to the corner and under the table of a young woman. The face seemed familiar, but Ahorta's focus was fixed under the table. Approaching the woman, she spoke in a sort of whisper. "Don't panic, but I think three beetles have decided to take you hostage under your table," she said, her eyes fixed on the girl for only a moment before trailing down under the table again. Though her statement could have been taken sarcastically or even humorously, she was completely serious. Any insects that were more than one could take someone hostage, imagine if they called their other bug friends and soon the entire cafe was crawling with them?
>> "Don't panic, but I think three beetles have decided to take you hostage under your table,"
The voice came off as so sudden and alerting that Agnes practically jumped out of her seat. She had managed to send the waitress away and tried her best to calm the buzzing that was rioting inside her chest. Her swarm wanted nothing more than to escape and wreck havoc upon whatever caused the threat to their home, but the runaway did not need that kind of attention in the middle of café. It was hard enough that she didn’t have so much as a dollar to her name right now and she would have to get out of here before she was pressured to buy something, but on top of that, her mother was outside and now…there was woman here who looked as if she were prepping for surgery.
“Excuse me? I’m sitting here,” she protested as she looked curiously at the woman who stood in front of her.
Agnes was not quite sure what to think of this visage in front of her. The woman looked slightly paranoid and had a surgical mask across the lower half of her face, and yet and she wore street clothes. Was something wrong with her face? Was she scared of catching a cold? The last she heard the was little to no news about bird-flu so she couldn’t have been one of those fanatics. On the other hand, maybe the woman was just some big time germ-a-phob. She’d heard about people like that when she was still in school. Unfortunate individuals who had no control over the illogical fears they had germs, microbes, etc. But maybe she was getting too far ahead of herself. The woman had said nothing that was remotely that suspicious. Instead she seemed to be looking at the runaway with an intensity that showed she really believed what she said.
Beetle’s…taking me hostage? Agnes thought to herself. What is this nut talking about?
Then she felt it, that gentle feeling of several tiny legs tapping on the material of her jeans. Cautiously she leaned over and looked down, under the table to see that indeed, there were three, very large and very shiny beetles. One of them seemed braver than the rest and was satisfied with simply crawling around on the leg of her jeans. The other two were situated around her foot, but did not dare venture to move any closer.
Inwardly she sighed as she buried her face in her hands. Why did her abilities have to kick in now? Why couldn’t she just have a normal time and a normal life for once? With a sniffle she reached down and gently knocked the beetle off her pant leg before she glanced once more over to the window into the shop. It seemed like the religious party were beginning to break up, but sadly she still had not seen her mother go by. She could not, would not lead until those monsters were gone.
For a second she forgot about the woman who had intruded on her company, but a glance over and Agnes saw her once more. She stared at that sickly green surgical mask for a moment, before she decided to crack the smallest of smiles and shook her head.
“Don’t worry, I don’t think they’re armed,” she finally replied, speaking of course of the beetles. “Thanks for the warning though.” she said politely as she turned and looked towards the window again. Still no sign of her mother. Why weren’t their laws to kick people like her off the sidewalks?
The bug victim seemed to have light humor about the entire event. It was almost as if she did not mind the company of disgusting little bugs and beetles. Curiously, Ahorta's eyes trailed up and down the girl, trying to figure out the source of her bug comfortability. Perhaps if she were not wearing her mask and therefore could smell the air better, she would be able to decipher that the girl had subconsciously called the bugs to her. However, she remained confused, looking under the table and back at the girl.
The girl had stated something about them 'not being armed', which challenged Ahorta's concrete mind. "Not armed? They happen to be about four arms more deranged than humanoids. Bugs typically have about six to eight legs, not to mention centipedes and millipedes. I suppose you're right if you compare them to the multi-armed bugs," she said, losing herself in her circular conversation. The girl's clothing was dark, the sort that either belonged to those that screamed for attention, or tried to hide from it by covering their true appearance.
Then again, Ahorta could not be one to judge. Her long black trenchcoat, black pants, black combat boots, black gloves and face mask did not seem to be a trendy fashion decision, but it was the safest. It kept her safe from the mud, the air pollutants, the disease. Ahorta's eyes trailed down to her feet to make sure there were no bugs around her and she began to piece things together. Since she had not had a psychotic episode with the girl, perhaps she was a mutant. Her solitary cafe table meant she was comfortable walking around by herself but did not wish to bring attention to herself. Most mutants quickly learned how to do things alone, most girls the odd bug lady's age travelled in large obnoxious groups.
"As you seem comfortable around these bugs, I'm going to assume you are not human," Ahorta said, not wishing to sit down, but rather sort of crouched in front of the cafe booth. If she sat down, it would mean her feet would be near where the bugs were, which would send her into a frenzy. Though the lone girl's eyes continued to trail outside. Was she an atheist? Was she watching the crazy sign-holders from a distance? Whatever it was, Ahorta found it interesting.
>> "Not armed? They happen to be about four arms more deranged than humanoids. Bugs typically have about six to eight legs, not to mention centipedes and millipedes. I suppose you're right if you compare them to the multi-armed bugs,"
Weird. That was the only way for Agnes to describe the conversation that she was having with this woman right now. Well to be honest it was not so much of a conversation as a means for her try and keep herself invisible. If she looked like she was casually chatting with this individual then she would not look so out of place. Unfortunately when Agnes walked into a crowded room, “out-of-place” was practically tattooed on her forehead. Maybe it was her meek nature, or her incessant need to try and disappear that made everyone draw their eyes upon her. After such actions did make her look suspicious…
And having an entourage of bugs at her beck and call was not the best ice breaker either.
Still, Agnes started to pray that the woman would go away, and yet at the same time, she found her extremely interesting. She seemed to be drawn to Agnes, curious of her every move and why she was not panicking that bugs were going to hold her hostage. With nothing else to really said, Agnes could only watch uncomfortably as the woman knelt down beside her table and engaged in further conversation.
>> "As you seem comfortable around these bugs, I'm going to assume you are not human,"
The comment was blatant and to the point. She glanced to the window and saw that one of the zealots was walking by with her picture still taped onto the sign. She cursed herself and her mother for being there. But as she turned to look at the woman in the mask closely, Agnes could only stare deep into those eyes. She wondered how she looked to this woman decked out in black. This lonely runaway sitting in a café all by herself and casting nervous glances out a window at religious protestors, was she really that suspiciously looking? Then again, as she took a second look at this woman, she had to admit that she didn’t exactly melt into a crowd either, but maybe that wasn’t the point.
Then, as if to confirm the woman’s suspicions before she could say again, there was the sound of buzzing. It didn’t come from her chest this time, though, instead it was from out in the open air of the café. The sound of flies, only two, but still loud enough to draw people’s attention hovered closely around Agnes’ head before deciding to finally settle down and roam through her hair. It was a disgusting sight and more than a couple of people pointed and whispered amongst themselves about how gross the sight was.
Biting her lip, Agnes glanced out the window, ignored the looks of the rest of the patrons and found herself staring into the eyes of the scary, mask wearing woman.
The answer to Ahorta's assumption was answered almost immediately by two flies that buzzed into the cafe. There were plenty of insects that were disgusting, flies happened to be one of the grossest, well, in Ahorta's opinion. She had done her research on bugs and vermin (no research included pictures) and learned that when a fly landed on food, they did a most disgusting routine in order to soften the food up enough to eat. The details were too repulsive for Ahorta to think about for too long, so she moved on to the next topic on her mind, the landing of the flies in the girl's hair.
Though Ahorta hated bugs, for some odd reason, it almost set her mind at ease knowing that the bugs were not interested in her, but rather flocked around this odd girl who did not mind a simple conversation with a crazy mutant. Would she keep the bugs away by calling them all to her? In an odd sort of way, it was better to walk around with a bug catcher mutant than to walk around freely. This girl was like a beacon to the bugs, perhaps with a bug beacon, they would not notice Ahorta and she could sit freely without fear of being touched by one of them.
She confirmed that she was not human, which either made her an alien or a mutant. And since aliens weren't found often, she had to be a mutant. Or maybe she was a giant bug dressed like a humanoid acting like a mutant! There was something like that in a movie, Men in Black, but Ahorta could never understand how a humongous bug could fit in a tiny man suit. "So can you control them or do they just follow you around?" she asked, hoping they just followed her around. If she controlled them, and at any point in the conversation wanted Ahorta to leave her alone, she could very well send the bugs on her.
Ahorta hardly had friends, and they could not really be classified as friends. Ms. Faust was her employer, and Dierdra, well, Ahorta never felt like the scorpion lady even liked her. Rew was possibly the closest to a friend that she had ever had, and they hadn't spoken since they met. The girl's attention directed back at those gathered at the streets and Ahorta turned to look at them again, this time taking in the scene slightly more. She could not tell who's face was on the signs, but the people holding them seemed to be only getting crazier and crazier.
"Friends?" she asked, still looking at those gathered outside.
>> "So can you control them or do they just follow you around?"[/i]
Of course the weird woman was interested in what she could do, but at least polite conversation was keeping people from staring at her suspiciously. Yes, the pair of them did make an awkward sight, but not much more awkward then the usual people who patrol the New York streets. At least this way they just looked like a pair of friends meeting for a chat! Though…one of those was nervously looking out the window and the other seemed too fearful to actually sit down in the chair. Was that really considered so weird in this day and age though?
She shifted her gaze once more away from the window and focused on the woman in front of her. She had to wonder if there was something really off about her to be interested in anything that Agnes had to say. In the end though, she really could not blame her for her curiosity. After all, how many people walk around who look like there are some living insect magnet?
“Trust me,” she said with a sigh. “If I could control them, I would’ve gotten rid of them a long time ago. They…they just follow me. I…don’t know why.”
She purposely left a vital part of that equation out. She did not want to reveal the real reason for the insects allegiance. This woman did not need to know that insects flocked to her because she was, in essence, a living insect hive. People don’t need to know that right now, as she lives, breathes, eats, and sleeps that roaches, flies and hornets are currently nestled somewhere inside of her body, awaiting their chance to defend whatever so much as threatened their home. It was a disgusting image and though this woman seemed earnestly curious, she was not going to gross her out with too many details.
“They just come and go,” she said as she tried to wave off a couple of the persistent flies that crawled around her hair. Angrily they buzzed, circled, before diving back down and once more commenced with their satisfied crawling. With a sigh, she gave up and simply sat there, casting yet another glance to the window…
>> "Friends?"[/color]
Realizing that the woman had noted her look at the window again, Agnes turned back and shook her head, as if she were doing nothing at all. Thankfully the man with the poster had managed to walk by without coming into the café to further preach the word of God. She could no longer see her mother or father outside, so that was at least a plus. Maybe she could now slip out and get away before any of those zealot followers would notice her. After all the photo of her was slightly older, before her mutation kicked in and she fled the house.
Agnes shook her head in answer to the woman’s question. “Just…some whacko’s I don’t want to see me,” she answered honestly. “Don’t want to get harassed I guess. I they get me upset…I…I don’t know what they’ll do,” she said as he pointed at the flies that buzzed through her hair and also referred to the beetles that still scuttled around her shoes.
So she was a mutant who did not enjoy being so? Then again, had Ahorta been stuck with the insect gene of the mutants, she would not have enjoyed it either. Her mutation did not allow touching, which was perfectly fine with her, as it happened to be one of her many phobias. The girl stated that she wished they would leave her alone and had no idea why they followed her around, which opened Ahorta's mind to wonder why they followed her. When most people shrugged off a topic, it caused Ahorta to think about it deeper. "Perhaps you smell like something sweet to an insect, or perhaps you're like the Queen Bee of insects," Ahorta said, slowly leaning towards a seat. Her legs were getting tired of awkwardly squatting.
"It might explain why you cannot control them but they flock around you. I'd hate to see what they do if you were threatened," she said, pushing herself into her seat. The thought of being viewed as a threat to the girl made her suddenly feel uneasy. Maybe it was best she did not think about it much longer, the thought of being swarmed by bugs nearly made he faint from mental panic. Her breathing increased, but it was hardly noticeable, muffled under her face mask. Along with the panic of imagining what would happen if the bugs attacked her, her body temperature rose, pushing sweat in the form of acid through her pores. It was one of the down-sides to her mutation. There were times that she ate through her clothes before she even made it home. She hardly ever ate through the trench coat though, or her boots and gloves, since she had specially prepared those to put up a better fight than her white button shirt, undergarments or socks.
She calmed her breathing to try to keep her perspiration to a minimum. Last thing she wanted was to be barely clothed in this odd cafe with those crazy religious anti-mutants outside. Speaking of which, the girl simply shook her head and looked away from them. Her excuse was that she simply did not want to be seen by them, which made sense. The word 'pestilence' seemed to hit the girl right on the spot, not because she was a mutant, but simply because she was the line leader of flocks of bugs. A few flies from the girl's hair seemed to not appreciate the girl's attempts to shoo them away and Ahorta watched as they nestled back in her hair. Gross.
Just as Ahorta had guessed, the girl stated she was unsure of what the bugs would do if she ran into the group of crazy New Yorkers. It confirmed Ahorta's thoughts that the group of bugs would attack if their Queen Bee was threatened. She reconsidered her approach. As a threat, Ahorta was in trouble, but she was unsure if she was a threat or just somebody sitting there to the bugs. "Are you aware when the bugs view someone or something as a threat?" she asked, curious if she fell in that dreaded category.
The conversation had gone quiet and all Agnes could do was watch as her strange visitor seemed to mull over what she had just said. Maybe she was trying to figure out the runaway’s ability? After all the insects had to come around for some reason, right? She knew she had a scent about her, but she just figured it was because she housed so many of the little buggers. Insects were not know to be the best smelling things in the world. But maybe the scent had something to do with attracting them. It could be that she emitted some kind of scent that drew every bug around towards her, like a beacon or some signal that attracted them.
Her head hurt as she tried to ignore the question. She had never really delved into how her abilities work. Maybe…maybe some at the mansion could figure it out. After all, if she knew how her powers worked, then maybe she could learn to get a better control of them. Maybe she could send them away, mute the bug scent…the possibilities were endless. Then…the stranger spoke again…
>> "It might explain why you cannot control them but they flock around you. I'd hate to see what they do if you were threatened,"[/i]
Agnes smiled politely but she didn’t say anything about that. The truth was that she had seen it too many times, in her opinion. She has tried to look away, to ignore it as if it were happening to someone else, or she was watching it in some movie, but she could never fully escape the true gross out damage she could cause.
Her mind flitted back to the night that strange, mutant, Mat helped her out in the streets. She had simply been seeking her dinner for the night in a local dumpster when she was attacked. Three thugs had appeared out of nowhere, ready to harm in her more ways than one. But that was their first mistake. She felt the rumble, heard the buzzing and before she knew it, one of them, the big mouthed thug, had his face covered in stinging wasps and invasive flies that flew in and out of every hole on the man’s head. Next came the roaches that fell out of her mouth like black bile and chattered and crawled over one another to nip and bite and crawl over the man who had attacked her. It was a horrendous sight that Agnes could never forget…however much she wanted to.
Agnes glanced around and saw that people were finally beginning to avert their gazes from her. She was thankful for that. They seemed to finally accept that the runaway and her strange companion were really only friends meeting for a few minutes. After all, New York was full of strange characters and these two were only a few more to add to the pot.
The runaway did have to admit that her companion was just a little odd. She was decked out in nearly all black and just seemed to have this air of paranoia, like she really did not trust anything in the world. Agnes had to wonder if maybe there was just a few irrational fears in the woman’s mind, but she didn’t comment on it. Instead she said nothing as the woman finally took a seat across from her, still extremely interested in her powers. Agnes felt like a Rubick’s cube to this woman.
>> "Are you aware when the bugs view someone or something as a threat?"[/i]
Wow she had a lot of questions. Agnes couldn’t blame her though. It could simply be that she was trying to figure out if she would at anytime be in a danger as well.
“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “It’s not so much what threatens them…only what threatens me. If…I get upset, or scared, or I feel threatened, there’s, um…” she placed her hand on her own chest, “…a buzzing. Comes from deep, in here. The more threatened or upset I am, the louder they are, and the more inclined they are to attack. If…I can’t control myself, then they take over…and attack the nearest person or thing deemed as a threat.”
It was honest and to the point. Hey…the woman asked.
