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.
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the school, not an X-man patrolled, twas the children who ruled. The adults had left home, for a land 'cross the sea in hopes of making the world the best place it could be.
To keep them safe, in body an mind, they left the adventurous young X-kids behind. Perhaps it was folly, they should have known That children find trouble when left all alone.
When the telephone rang, with an alarming clatter, one child thought to answer, to see what was the matter. The voice on the line was young and afraid, as she relayed the tale of the creature she'd made.
A monsterous sculpture, a brotherly dare, a loss of control, it was all of it there; Infantile antics had gone awfully awry and Cthulhu stretched out his wings and darkened the sky.
--
A quarter of an hour later, traveling by air, hoof, and cab and any other way they could manage, the mansion students arrived at Central Park. It was cold, drizzly, and quiet when they arrived. Katrina stepped out of the cab and looked around, pulling her coat tighter around herself.
“Where is it do you think,” she asked her comrades. For there being a enlarged and enraged clay sculpture running amok, the park was a little too quiet for her tastes. From somewhere, the sound of carolers' song floated through the air
--
(OOC: Cthulhu is a gigantic, winged, tentacle-y, animated clay sculpture. It is made completely out of moist clay. The moist evening suits him well, and he won't be drying out any time soon in this weather. He is taller than most of the trees in the park and not incredibly fast, nor are his senses very sharp. In fact, it isn't really clear if he has normal senses at all. His body, being clay and rather squishy, has the ability to absorb injuries and reform any pieces that get sliced off. Feel free to make up any other details that you like.)
Cafas stood behind Katrina, wondering how it was that someone he had never met had managed to get him into a cab and down to central park in the middle of the night. He stood ready, having had time to acquire the rather bulky package of sword and shield. The sword was hanging from his side, sheathed, the shield was already on his arm. Across his back he had his axe. They were the only things he had thought of when all of a sudden the previously dead mansion came alive with action. Well, that and his jeans and shirt, otherwise he'd be wearing only boxers. his boots were still unlaced on his feet.
“Where is it do you think,”
He pondered the predicament for a second. It didn't seem immediately obvious to him where to look for a giant clay creature. Then he looked above the tree tops. Still nothing. Apparently his perspective wasn't high enough to be greatly useful. Time for a bit of guess work. "Well, it's made of clay, and has to remain moist yeah? This park have a pond?" His accent, distinctly Australian as it was, sounded to him to be fading. Joy, he had been here what? five months? And already his aussyness was going away. He imagined others were around, but didn't bother looking, he was too busy putting on fist wraps, it seemed he would need them.
Koga was excited, Jr xmen unite, Cthulu was on the menu tonight. He got suited up, all warm and snug, Like a ninja and a bug in a rug.
He counted his swords, one, two, three. A backpack of flares were added to thee. The monster was vile and made of clay, But it must fall on this pre Christmas day.
The park would suffer only so long, They couldn’t allow wicked so wrong. A demon alone in the park, Heroes gathered in the dark.
Little Timmy and Sue rested tonight, But the mutant children were bound to fight. Together they fought, together they stood Evil would fall, for once and for good.
Koga stood in the park in his Ninja Gear, He knew that eventually it was bound to get too cold for him to go out, so with a backpack full of heat packs and road flares. He wasn’t sure how well his plan was going to hold up but he knew the approach he had in mind. Slice, slice, slice. Burn, burn, burn! If he could, he wanted to stab a hole in and place the lit flares inside….it was as good a plan as any, other than that, he was going to be on distraction duty. Until someone else figured something more permanent out.
Koga stood directly to Katrina’s Right, Glancing around for the monster and not seeing it. He nodded toward Cafas, He hadn’t been formally introduced, but tonight he was not only class mate, but comrade. “True Letssss check the water, the path crosssesss mosst of them. It’sss pretty wet out here already though, but what we can’t sssee maybe we can hear?” The drizzle was killing a lot of the sound but a distance thud, thud, crash could be heard. “ Do we know if the sssiblingsss that made this thing are around? I am thinking a crasssh courssse in how to unmake your monster might be in order for tonight.Ssshrink it, unanimate it. Sssomething.” He shook the one who answered the phone down for every detail he could get.
Koga pulled the long Bright red scarf off from around his neck, he was already covered and he had his heat packs, without asking if she wanted it, He swung the garment around Katrina’s neck, Leaving her to wrap it around the rest of the way. Just in case, you never knew what was going to go down, if the scarf had to be the only thing he got to see her receive for christmas, then so be it.
“Letsss Move? Thisss thing issn’t going to stop it’sss ssself.” He wanted to take command right off the bat, be he hesitated for the others, they might not be as hungry or ready for what night brought on, The Aussie certainly seemed to share his sentiment.
Sleigh bells ring, are you listening, In the park, mud is glistening A frightful sight, A tentacle plight, Galloping from a Cthulhu hentai scene.
Gone away is the safety, Of our PG thirteen rating The faster we flee, the safer we’ll be, Galloping from a Cthulhu hentai scene.
Caleb “Calley” Swartz had spent the last three days eating hay. Somewhat miserably. It had seemed like a good idea at the time—get himself a horse form, so when it snowed, he could pull around a sleigh. Read: plastic sleds. At unsafe velocities, up and down the Mansion lawns, and possibly out into the street, as well. He suspected fun would be had by all who didn’t break anything, and possibly by some who did. With all due grinning hope, he’d copied himself a black stallion with the proper ratio of majestic to badass.
With all due regret, he’d spent nearly twelve hours learning to move it. Day one had focused on standing up. Day two, thankfully, had involved kind children re-arranging the Mansion’s tool shed while the gardener was gone, and turning it into a make-shift stable. Someone had bought hay. It tasted warm, earthy, and divine: he’d set to chewing his way through it. Comfort food.
Here on day three, he was swishing his tail in stabled comfort when the fleet of taxis pulled up at the gates. He watched through the shed’s window as Katrina emerged, leading some kind of epic charge.
Some kind of epic charge that was clearly forgetting the black stallion. Whinnies issued forth with all due insult: his hooves clip and clopped back and forth, his nose trying to make sense of the shed’s round doorknob. Round doorknobs: his perpetual bane. White fog drifted up from the taxi’s idling mufflers: he tossed his mane, and made such horse eyes through the window that the glass wibbled in sympathy. The taxi engines revved. They left without him. They left. Without him.
Never fear.
Sir Gawain was here.
Not, of course, that the horse knew that name—but someone else was running late to whatever was going on, and actually appreciated a black stallion with the proper majestic:badass ratio. A rudimentary bargain was struck, without words: a ride was offered, for tool shed doors opened. Epically—way more epically than the taxi cabs, and clearly more majestic and badass—they arrived at the far end of the park.
A block away, a fourteen year old was asking a question: “Where is it do you think?”
There and then, horse and rider were looking into the muddy, writhing face of madness itself. Its wings stretched slowly, tree branches cracking out of their way. It turned towards them.
And then Sir Gawain’s steed was majestically, badassly, tactically running away.
Hooves clattered past the main group of students, rider on board. The ground behind them shook. Trees broke. Appendages wiggled, were no appendage should ever wiggle. Cthulhu was here.
Later on, we'll desire, Cold Steel’s beer by the fire To drunkenly wade, Through the scarred minds he’s made, Galloping from a Cthulhu hentai scene.
Juka had spent weeks trying to dispell his bubble and begin living a normal life again. Weeks trying to sleep, days trying to heal the wound on his chest. Unfortunately none of it had worked, or at least none of it had worked beyond the healing part and that had only worked so well as any gaping wound in one's chest would be expected to work. It had been weeks since he had been injured, weeks since he had last slept at all, weeks since he had eaten anything, and weeks since he could live a life without pain. The pain had, thankfully, slowly dissapated as his wound slowly healed but it had yet to disappear entirely.
There were many difficulties involved with living in a bubble, primary among them was the difficulty in going outside. It seemed that people stared at boys in bubbles, and not the normal adulating stare that Juka was used to either, but more of a 'what the hell is that freak' kind of stare. So he had taken to only leaving Mansion grounds late at night. Then there was the problem of actually picking stuff up, although that was only a partial problem since he could send up tendrils to pick stuff up and those tendrils could transport said stuff into his main bubble as needed. Still, it was most inconvenient. The biggest problem, however, lay not entirely in the bubble itself but in the fact that the bubble was, apparently, not allowing him to sleep. And not being able to leave the Mansion combined with the fact that he could no longer sleep meant that he was perpetually bored. And that was a very real problem.
And for once Juka took the practical approach to dealing with his boredom, at least in part. The solution, of coure, was anvils. As seemed obvious to anyone who was Juka, though perhaps not obvious for anyone who was not. Yes, anvils indeed. His fight with Aura had taught him a thing or two, mainly that heavy, large objects were good at hitting things and he would rather said objects take the brunt of the abuse directed at him rather than have them strike him himself. And, of course, anvils were the heaviest thing he could think of that he could actually bubble. And so, he had spent a night going from blacksmith to blacksmith until he had 4 shiny new anvils with which to practice with and with which to defend himself with. And then proceeded to spend too many hours to count floating in the sky and making his anvils dance around him.
It was on a cold new years eve night night in which Juka found himself playing with his anvils yet again that he heard a commotion and, in ones and twos, the children from the Mansion began leaving in all haste. Curios and bored and desperately wanting something to do, Juka followed. A floating boy in a purple dress followed in a bubble surrounded by 4 spinning anvils. Whatever the problem he was going to find it and if it was something that needed killing he was going to kill it. Never mind that he had never killed anything in his life. That wasn't the point.
Nice boys got cool presents for Christmas, and some mistletoe fun. Naughty boys got Chtulhu. Sir Gawain swore off naughtiness for life. Or at least for the winter season.
How did he miss the call to arms?... How could he miss a call that made that many Mansion students run out into the night armed with all kinds of... stuff? It might have had something to do with him being new to the school and not familiar with the emergency drill. Or the fact that he was in-between mirrors, poking around in the empty rooms of the X-men for some non-non-alcoholic-drinks. Just to get the Christmas spirit going in the team. By the time he got to the front door the team was gone, together with the spirit. Darn. He watched the cabs leave with armed students in a hurry, and was sure they were off to do something reckless, dangerous, epic and fun. With a pang of worry he also suspected Twyla might be with them. Oh hell. A few minutes later, looking for a vehicle to borrow, he came across the horse. No friggin' way. Guingalet? Sir Gawain opened the barn door. And the rest is history.
"Hoooooly f***ing sh***." The knight-minus-the-shining-armor stared at the monster for less than a minute before turning the horse in full agreement with the animal's instincts and leaving the scene as fast as humanly/mutantly/horsely possible. Minor details like not having any experience in riding a horse were soon forgotten in the face of tentacle-related fate-worse-than-death. He spotted the group of students seconds before the horse tore past them, and remembered to pull on the mane to make him stop. Turning back to face the monster who was following, he worked tirelessly on the string of swearwords and curses he had been holding onto in the past few minutes. "And now what?!"
I hear those Cthulhus slithering Screams of innocents too C'mon its lovely weather for tentacle cutting with you ...no? eh...
Saph had been a late arrival as well; albeit mostly because he hadn't really been invited. He had been minding his own christmassy business, and relaxing on the couch when he overheard the situation... Huge monster on the loose, all of the grown-ups off in another country, and a bunch of kids were about to try and play the part of monster slayer. in all good conscious, Saph really couldn't let all of those kids run off into danger alone, could he? Once they left he ran up to his room, grabbed his trusty crowbar, made the call for the cab.
He made it to the park in good time. Unfortunately, he was also just in time to catch sight of both the kids, and the horrifying monster following the one on the horse. Oh... My.... $%$#% GOD this thing was scary! it looked like one of those cheesy monsters from the old horror movies that were obviously puppets, or latex figures pulled about by strings and such... Cept this thing was the real deal, tentacles and all! Saph took advantage of the cab driver nearly crapping his pants, and dove out of the cab without paying... which was good, because he was very poor. As the cab screeched off, the older mutant reached into his coat for his crow bar, looking at the great monster, whose attention was thankfully not on him, but on the group of mutants... That meant he could at least prepare... but... what for?! How was he supposed to help these kids out of this mess without letting any of them get hurt? Sure, he was certain some of them could take care of themselves, but... Well, if any of them where he would surely blame himself for being here and letting it happen! Yup... that was it... he was going to defend the kids while they took this thing down, at the very least... that was his plan of action...
The 27 year old mutant charged into the fray, aware that his odd hobble with his right foot, a byproduct of his kinetic absorbing mutation, would make him look like a cripple while he ran. Once he was close, he started swinging his crowbar into his own right kneecap with every step, an action which transformed his cripple-looking run into something just... bizarre. He stopped next to the reptilian boy, and the kid with the somewhat- Australian sounding accent. "Hope you kids don't mind a helping hand..." He could already feel the tingle of the energy he had gathered so far at his finger tips... He was ready for action.
Feliz Navidad was all Carrick could sing, No way he could miss a fight with this giant thing. Tentacles reached from the ground to the sky, Off in the distance some children did cry.
No longer was the ground covered with fallen snow, For the Children of the future arrived for the show. Looking left and looking right, Carrick grinned with malicious delight.
Eyeing the creature from above Carrick circled once then twice before he lowered himself to the ground where a familiar face or two could be seen. Not once did he think something like this would be happening, never did he think he would have to spend his Christmas night fighting off some beast straight out of a comic book. Having the sudden wish to be home in Ireland with Da, Carrick sighed heavily before landing on the ground near Koga before asking, ”Is this American Tradition?” Sarcasm clearly in his voice Carrick looked back to the giant floating octopus thing as his tail twitched on the ground behind him with curiosity.
Flannel wrapped around his body as he looked up through his tangled hair, which poked out, from under his skullcap. Not really sure what to do Carrick waited for a moment or two before saying, ”Sure enough it has to be raining while we are here…” Carrick wasn’t a fan of rain when flying mainly because it was difficult to fly fast and see at the same time the rain drops had a way of pelting his face when ever he took off.
A pair of goggles hung around his neck as he eyed the creature again, ”Maybe it will go away if we ignore it?” he said knowing that this wasn’t going to be the case. His wings folding behind him and extending quickly in hopes to get the rain drops off his wings Carrick wondered if all this beast wanted was someone to wish him a ‘Merry Christmas’ again Carrick doubted that was the case but was still hopeful.
Katrina felt very under dressed for the occasion. It wasn't so much that she wasn't wearing fancy enough clothing, or warm enough clothing, she just didn't have anything with blades strapped onto her in any way. Nor would she know how to use them if she did. Looking around at her companions, she suddenly felt like it hadn't been a very good idea to tag along after all.
Koga, wearing an epic ninja suit and looking like he'd walked right out of a comic book, questioned her on the details of the earlier telephone conversation.
“They were pretty young, and I think they already tried everything they could try before running away. I told them they should get somewhere safe,” Katrina looked downcast. Had that been the wrong thing to tell them? Had she already messed up one of their opportunities to defeat the monster?
Kat saw a flash of red and realized that Koga had draped his scarf around her neck. Equip item: red ninja scarf, +2 warmth, +2 epic.
She barely had time to grin at him when something even more epic raced past with clattering of hooves. Katrina took a glance behind him and her eyes widened.
“Look out!” Cthulhu was here, and he was throwing trees at them. Katrina skittered to one side, shoving the mansion's somewhat newly acquired winged boy the relative safety behind a bus shelter before tree branches descended around them.
Now enveloped within a green piney thicket on three sides, Katrina looked up at him with wide eyes. “That was close, are you alright?”
Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree, How deadly are your branches! Not only green in weather fair, also while sailing through the air! Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree, How deadly are your branches!
Only a half an hour ago she had been deliriously happy, within the warm, wet arms of a comforting showers embrace. Her hair had been lathered in Lavender shampoo and rinsed, her loofah was soapy and back in its place already, and she was well on her way to bed. All that had remained was to rub the remaining soap from her eyes and dry off- something she finished quickly. Before she knew it, she was dressed, tank top and fleece pants, and busy running her newly acquired brush through her mass of wriggling hair.
She had discovered through practice, that once she had it brushed thoroughly the whole mess could then be braided and surprisingly it would stay quiet for the duration of the next day- but for some reason, that was only after a shower and with just the right brush. She had been just about to start braiding, when the sound of people running past her door alerted her to something going on outside. She stood and moved to peek out, noticing that quite a few people were running down the hall. This, of course, had prodded at her curiosity, and the beast woke up in return.
Thus, she had dawned her shoes and a winter beanie, thrown her trusty red coat on over her tank top, and followed suit in the footsteps of those who had gone before her....
Which was how she had come about to find herself standing among other students, gazing up slack jawed at the towering beast running rampant through Central park.
"Great Zeus!"
It was surely the end of the world, surely. Her hands gripped the one thing she had thought to bring with on her unknown journey into the cold, a first aid kit she had picked up from the medical wing...
Good thing too, It looked like they would definitely need it. She crossed herself quickly, before diving behind a tree to take shelter from other flying trees.
"What the hell IS that thing?!"
---------------------------------------------------- Oh the vision outside is frightful, it makes this fire right here seem delightful. But since we've got work to do, Kill Cthulhu, kill Cthulhu, kill Cthulhu!
He doesn't show signs of stopping, what with all of the tree's he is lobbing, think twice and duck way down low, Kill Cthulhu, kill Cthulhu, kill Cthulhu!
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Dec 3, 2009 19:08:28 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
736
0
May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
With the first call of distress Henri said to she: ‘Let’s help them you and me.’ By the time that they got downstairs Twyla said to she: ‘Let’s take the bus.’ ‘So we can help them you and me.’ As they sat on the cold seats Henrietta said to she: ‘We need plans.’ ‘We’re on the bus.’ ‘But we need to save them you and me.’ At the sight of China Town Twyla Ashby said to she: ‘Happy New Year.’ ‘I sense a plan.’ ‘We should get off this bus.’ ‘And we’ll save them don’t you see?’
Originally Twyla Ashby’s plans for Christmas break had involved going home to spend the holidays with her family. Somewhere in late November that plan had changed with some flimsy excuse that her parents were going to ‘spend Christmas with your sister and her husband’s family’. Twyla still hadn’t quite figured out what that translated into but she knew it made her stomach hurt to think about. She hadn’t told anyone at the Mansion about it, not even her new friends Mirror or Henrietta. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even mentioned her birthday the day before. It had kinda slipped her mind.
When the distress call was received instantly now 18 year-old Twyla had been in action, dragging Henri along with her. They of course, left late. Due to a combination of Twyla re-packing her backpack several times and Henri redoing her long braid what seemed like a hundred times. (The final contents of the gray Jansport were: a large first aid kit that her grandmother sent her for her birthday, a thermos filled with hot tap water, and as many pairs of extra socks as she could find.) The girl still wasn’t very happy with her lack of helpful supplies–had she been home she’d have much more selection when it came to winter safety, she did grow up in Wisconsin after all.
Instead of a cab they took a bus as public transportation was cheaper and almost as fast. Together they worried about how they would contribute to whatever force the Mansion had summoned and discussed the possible weaknesses of something made of clay. As the bus passed through China Town Twyla had her epiphany and the duo sprinted out into the slushy streets with a specific party favor in mind. Their quest was a successful one and soon Twyla’s backpack was filled with their idea of the perfect weapon against the foe.
Soon they arrived on the scene, if a bit tardy and a bit out of breath.
Twyla’s breath came in great puffs of white in front of her face–she and Henri had run from the nearest bus stop as if getting there thirty seconds faster would make or break the situation. What she saw before her (if possible) took her breath away even more. The Cthulhu looked scarier in person than what she had imagined. Not that this was very hard for it to do...she had no idea what it was supposed to look like in the first place. What made it even more terrifying was the fact that it was throwing trees at what appeared to be a group of her comrades-in–prepubescent-Mansion-arms. Turning to Henrietta next to her she said: “Well...now what?” Her backpack of tricks suddenly felt like nothing compared the image before her eyes.
((OOC: Permission to GodMod was given to me by Henri, we wrote this while G-mail chatting!))
Henrietta had just arrived with her newest friend Twyla. They had been late on the scene. Both of them had their own reasons for the absensce. Twyla's had been to gather supplies to help the others. Henri couldn't help but feel selfish compared to the caring girl. The reason she had taken so long was because of her long hair. She was trying to braid it to keep it out of her face. Looking at the huge creature, she realized that it was a bad plan. She'd probably need to have her hair loose to fight the giant mudman.
When she and Twyla had arrived at the park, she couldn't help but stare at all of the mess. There were pine trees laying everywhere. Kids were ducking and dodging the huge, soaring greenery. Wow, hard to believe I had just been getting ready to close my eyes and sleep. Now that I know how bad it is down here, I feel a little guilty. Henrietta didn't know even half of the children.
Twyla asked what they should do next. Henri grabbed her hair-tie and pulled it out. She shook her hair out of the braids and looked at her friend. "Well, I'm not sure how much help I'll be, but it can't hurt to try." Glancing at the horror scene, she took a deep breath and let it back out. "They seem to be having trouble. What do you wanna do?"
Words mean nothing in situations like this, yet the terror is as scary yet exciting as a first kiss. Having feared a monster through a life, the more important to keep ones enemies in sight.
Exploded fragments of a heart, holding the mask on tight as he is torn apart. A monster like this, moist yet fragile, it is nothing compared to an internal battle.
The ride there had felt long and tiresome. he had not left the gates of the mansion since he had first arrived. A feeling of guilt hit him hard in the gut as his eyes glanced upon the city he had lived in for years with his parents, whom he had left, without much contact in weeks. It saddened him, but he could not cry, not when others were around. This was the first time he would be helping out along with others, but internal conflicts still rooted in his head, making him lose the focus needed.
Even in this case the only reason he decided to come along on this, was to socialize, something he wasn't very good at. He had memorized most of their faces from around the mansion earlier, if it was something he never forgot it would be faces, though he had difficulties putting names to the faces. Through his seriousness, a little crooked nervous smile would appear if eye contact was made with anyone.
Once there he, like the rest got out of the cab. He knew some had other means of transportation, he did too, but flying to him for such distances was more than he would like to do. This since he was so untrained, and because he didn't want people to see a flying Asian looking guy among the streets.
It was cold, and wet as he got out of the cab. He didn't do anything about it. He was already aware of the weather, and he knew that the weather would change drastically the next few minutes. It was when he heard others mentioning it, he saw it too. A large clay like monster, looking like it came from books he had ages ago. A wave of panic roamed through his entire body, this was real, though he did not understand why it was real, making it the real fear.
Trees were hitting everywhere, and Alexander was not hesitant to get shelter behind other trees before he noticed other trees coming his way. He glanced over at the others, waiting for someone else to take leadership over the whole situation, he alone could never come up with anything to stop the monster.
Koga was tallying the odds as more and more of their team showed. Maybe they should have made more of a call to arms at the house, he’d remember that next time. He spotted the fantastic Juka in the Sky, He was epic in personality and judging by the bubble he was flying in and anvils in his wake, he converted that personality trait over to power well. And then came that cocky guy, who did who knows what other than smile his come and get it smile at girls, on a black horse or disloyalty, he was glad to have them both. Beat himself up man was up next and he was welcome as well, so long as he attacked Cthulhu with the same enthusiasm. AH, smart ass with wings was hear, also Good, him and Juka would be great on Aerial support.
--"And now what?!" try seducing it…
~whinny neigh neigh~ maybe you’d like to side with Cthulhu?
**"Hope you kids don't mind a helping hand..." He nodded to Saphirus. His eyes still focus on the giant.
^^“Is this American Tradition?”
“I hope not.” Was the first thing that Koga had muttered.
^^”Sure enough it has to be raining while we are here…”
^^”Maybe it will go away if we ignore it?” He had stopped listening to Carrick at that point. He made a note to laugh later, if they were all alive.
And now the important details came out in a fog, from an angels lips to a ninja’s ears. Gah, he hoped he didn’t get all mushy every time he looked upon death.
<3<3“They were pretty young, and I think they already tried everything they could try before running away. I told them they should get somewhere safe,”
“Ok, good, that’s what I needed to know.
<3<3“Look out!” and “Tree!” were yelled in unison.
Koga dived toward Katrina as Katrina dived toward Carrick and so the effect was that Katrina and Carrick got into a bus booth. (hey, there’s Fausto) and Koga was scrambling up the side. And in a moment perched on top of the thing.
++"What the hell IS that thing?!" nice the Green girl is here, hey, he could call her the green girl, he was a rainbow boy…so it was fair.
His tally stopped there, it was go time and he counted as high as he could, He grabbed four flares out of his backpack and an extra heating pack and tossed them down the front of his gi, They would hold. He then tossed his back pack into the booth below, to the pair in their.
“It’s a bunch of flaressss, we’ll ssssee if this worksss. If so passsss em out and take em down.” That was what his strategic plan came down too. It was all they had time for.
Cthulu smells, Cthulu smells, The freak threw a tree, He has no skill, Missed his kill The kiddies got away.
“HEY!” Koga shouted as he dived off the top the small area and onto the tree that was last a projectile. He sprinted and was thankful for every lap ColdSteel had every made him run. Damn, he was going to have to admit that he was right, ‘one day you’ll thank me.’ He sprinted and dodged as he scrambled away from tentacle after tentacle, his gymnastics classes helping him now too. Like being on a storm cloud, tentacles struck around him with thunderous threats.
Fear induced adrenaline, adrenaline helped him live (thanks Yoda)….He was so terrified…there was no way Koga could die.
He cleared the point of danger as he made way into the tunnel created by Cthulhu’s legs. One meaty clay leg lifted, to stomp, he imagined and so he darted onto the other and started climbing the slippery, malable surface. With his mutation it was tricky, but doable he scrambled up past the caf to the back of his upper leg. Up across an obscene Cthulhu butt crack and to his lower spine.
One hand let go of the surface the other dug in slightly. Cthulu’s wings pounded back and forth to make bursts of wind fight him for his right to stay. His free hand grabbed his Katana and dug into what should be its spine…who knows maybe he would paralyze the thing. The Stabbing wasn’t hard at all. It moved in like a surgeon’s scapula, He tugged back and forth to open a gap and it left a hole that was already closing as he watched.
Damn, damn, damn! He pushed the blade far to his right, and then let go of the blade and quickly pulled a flare out biting the cap of with his mouth and sending the first attack into the quickly fading wound. As the flare settled in the wound and then was closed around, he saw a glowing patch where it was placed….It was working like a splinter in someone’s finger! It would have been hard to smother but the fact that it wasn’t out was the the antithesis to the fact that it regenerated. He grabbed his sword handle in his right hand at let the grip on the other three go, He sliced a huge gap in the thing with his weight. After his first minor victory, He just wanted to distract the stinking thing.
Posted by Maxine Ralls on Dec 4, 2009 4:25:39 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
379
3
Jul 27, 2018 20:37:07 GMT -6
Calley
Crap. Crap buckets with duck burgers and ketchup. Locust-infested ketchup. She’d forgotten to get batteries to go with Clark’s Christmas present. If there was one rule that had governed Christmas mornings in the Ralls household from time immemorial, it was this: you did not make someone run out and buy their own batteries for their own Christmas present. She could see the look on her older brother’s face at breakfast tomorrow, that anal retentive crease starting between his eyebrows as he tallied the omission on her record. He wouldn’t say anything, oh no. Not about the batteries. Much worse: he’d give her the ol’ “Thank you, Maxine”, and set it to the side, on top of the sweater mom invariably bought him. Oh no, Maxine was not the type of girl to stand for that. She would not submit to being thanked. Instead, she would run out in the middle of the night—the night before Christmas—and try to find a gas station that still had batteries in stock, after the other last-minute shoppers had picked over their displays. She needed four triple-As. So help her, if she had to buy one of those remotes that had ‘batteries inside!’ and scrape the still-charged innards out of its plastic husk, she would. She would not be thankthulhued.
Thankwhozzits?
Oh, right. Thankthulhued.
This is approximately the time that Maxine’s gawking crashed her bike into a lamppost, just outside of the parkthulhu.
She was fine, she was fine. She was okay. She was standing: stroking the caps of alarmed BIC pens to assure them she hadn’t broken anything. Picking back up purses, as they crawled their way to her feet. Staring.
Slightly, slightly eye twitching.
Cthulhu. Slowly, the innate horror in Maxine’s gut drifted upwards: from small intestine back to large, then into her stomach. By then, it had become delightfully buoyant. A little bouncy.
She grinned, and stretched her hand towards her paperclip-covered purse. A long arm untangled itself from the whole, and rummaged: in a moment, a handycam was nudged against her waiting palm. Maxine flipped its little screen open, and brought it to bear on the epic holiday fight starting before her eyes.
Screw Clark and screw batteries. She was about to do some reporting, thank you.
You better not shout, you better not cry You better not pout, I’m telling you why: Maxine’s gravy train is coming to town.
