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.
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Aug 19, 2018 9:51:39 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
>> "Well, Mr. Pahlke, Might I say it's certainly a pleasure to meet you. My name is EllaLouise Gartner. "
Well-meaning but too anxious to clarify, Ezra accidentally wrote the young woman's name as "Ellouise Gardener" in the sign-in book, not that it really mattered. To the side, he added a scribbled note that, "Nobody was around, so I signed her in. --Mr. Pahlke" in one margin, and recorded the time. The pen and binder were replaced, a guest pass was retrieved off of he desk, and Ezra closed the door to the kiosk, extending one of the patches towards EllaLouise.
"It is a pleasure, Ms. Gardener," he echoed. Thankfully the difference between "Gartner" and "Gardener" wasn't night-and-day, so Ezra might have been able to get away with his faux pas.
>> "So, you'll be showing me around, then? If I'm going to be staying here, as I plan, I will have to get a good sense of the accommodations."
"There are-" Ezra began to protest, "What I mean to say is-"
There were tour guides, and he was not one of them. He was the librarian.
>> "Perhaps you could show me to the library, at least? I would want to see what sort of reading was available."
The spindly man was somewhat placated by the request. The library was his domain, so he certainly could show someone, this young lady included, the library.
"I could show you to the library," Ezra agreed, "But I also must insist that we find a real tour guide for you. I am... among one of the newest additions to the staff, so my knowledge of the campus is not extensive."
Hence why he was spending his lunch strolling about the grounds. Ezra strode towards the Mansion itself, glancing over his shoulder to ascertain that the young woman was following.
The cat was off like a shot, down his arm at the sight of chicken. And then... the cat was not a cat at all.
The noise that escaped Ezra was altogether unmanly. It was a yelp of alarm, which escaped him as soon as his brain registered what he was seeing. And when he registered that he was, in fact, seeing a very naked adolescent standing boldly in his kitchen, his knobby hands flew to his face, covering his eyes, and tinges of dark grey were rushing to his ears and cheeks.
And they were talking. Heavens, why were they talking?!
"Y-you..." the homunculus stammered, competing thoughts clamoring to be spoken. He wasn't sure which flagrantly obvious sentiment was worth uttering first-- that this person was a mutant, not just a cat, that they were breaking-and-entering, that they were positively naked. He reached no conclusion, so simply repeated a dour, "... you..." while his brain spun its wheels, but gained no traction.
"... I, uh... was not... expecting you to, uh..." he kept his hands firmly clasped over his eyes. If he gave the mutant is robe, they-- she-- wouldn't be naked anymore.
Ezra quickly, blindly, fussed with the belt, and once he shrugged the robe off his massive shoulders, he held it out before him, by the neck, proffering it to the seeming child.
"We should probably fetch you something more permanent, if you're going to stay... looking human for a while," Ezra established. Because now that the cat was out of the bag, so to speak, he couldn't very well let the mutant continue to stay there, "Please let me know when you are, uh, decent."
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Aug 14, 2018 21:04:23 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
>> “Hey.”
Ezra started at the greeting. Okay, so maybe the fainting spell in the tea-shop had made him jumpy. A quivering hand settled upon his chest, lightly patting his sternum. Saucer-like, amber eyes swiveled onto the bearded man. Was he speaking to Ezra?
>> “H-hello.”
“Good afternoon…” the homunculus said carefully, bowing his head politely. There was a quiver in his tone, a noticeable anxiousness. Almost as if he was about to cry.
>> “I work in emergency medical situations. I just wanted to double-check that you’re doing okay.”
He’d been in the tea-shop. Ezra looked away timidly, his expression stretching in a bashful frown.
“I… uh, thank you, I mean…” he fumbled, perhaps almost too quiet to hear, “I, um, I’m okay.”
His tone was very clearly not-okay, and Ezra knew this, but if this guy was some sort of doctor, he didn’t want to raise any flags. No sir, because flags were an invitation for overzealous sorts to poke around, and that was the last thing that Ezra wanted.
… to say that he had anxieties around medical professionals was a gross understatement.
“That is to say… no, no-“ he corrected quickly, “-it’s nothing that concerns a man of science. But I appreciate the concern. Indeed, I do.”
Ezra was tempted to make another hasty exit, but he was certain the man would follow. So, he stayed on the bench, anxiously wringing his hands. He seemed positively miserable.
“S-sir,” he said quickly, “I didn’t… fall on anyone… did I? I mean, of course I fell on someone, I was in a queue, but did I… injure anyone?”
Some man was talking urgently to Ezra but anxiety made the words whirl in his ears, words like “friend” and “regain”. It didn't take any stretch of the imagination to piece together what was being said. Ezra was compelled to make a break for it though. Three hundred years ago, any anomalous biology that couldn't be excused away by being God's works was attributed to the other major player for people's souls. This would bring upon the torches and pitchforks. For all of the scientific advancements over the past three centuries, humanity as a whole had remained relatively static. As such, Ezra was wary at best of the general public.
>> "Take it easy! Please!”
He would take it easy as soon as he could get a semi-decent look at the jewel embedded in his sternum. Ezra paused in the sidewalk, searching for some private corner where he could unbutton his shirt and survey the damage. That was rather ironic, seeking privacy in this bustling metropolis.
"Uh. What do I do about dialing 9-1-1?"
>> "Tell them it's 10-22! I'll get him-"
“Oh my stars,” Ezra breathed. No time to waste. The door slid closed before he could catch the latter part of the man's statement. But when people spoke in code and offered to “get him”, it was suspect. An anxious, gnarled hand curled around his tie and shirt, and Ezra scurried down the street, hazarding glances over his shoulder.
Even if someone was following him, he hadn't exactly surveyed each and every face in the shop. His pursuer had the advantage, there. Ezra followed a crosswalk signal to the other side of the street, into a small park that occupied one corner of a block. He strode past joggers and mothers with strollers, vendors with carts. Finally he spied an open bench. It wasn't exactly a covert place to steal-away to, but Ezra's head was reeling with fear. He'd… blacked-out. Just like that. Such a thing had never happened before.
The spindly-limbed man plopped gracelessly onto the bench, hands already loosening the necktie around his neck. Was it his gem? Another person? Him? Despite the thoroughness if Doctor Frankenstein's notes, there were still questions for which Ezra didn't have the answer. Ezra placed his palm to his sternum, searchingly, but he couldn't feel anything through the fabric of his shirt. Trembling hands began to undo the top buttons of his dress shirt, his mouth pinching against the anxiety that roiled in him. Ezra gave a haggard sigh, and put this hand to his chest again. Cool fingertips grazed an even cooler gemstone. He felt along the beveled edges where skin met stone, along the slick red surface. No imperfections. Nothing new anyway. He hazarded a glance down. Nothing weird at a glance, either. He couldn't really, thoroughly inspect it until he got home though.
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Jul 21, 2018 23:51:34 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
The homunculus, as a cat-person for a majority of his civilized life, was attentive to the cat's body language and paused his advance. Underneath the grey puffs of-- dear heavens, that's lint, the cat was covered in lint-- the white-with-black spots kitty was starting to size Ezra up. He wondered if she'd bolt, which would make for some… unwarranted… excitement. Thankfully, the deemed him worthy of offering pets, and brushed against his outstretched hand.
“See, I'm not so bad,” Ezra assured the strange cat, “If I might say so, myself.”
Ezra gave a chuckle at his own remark, but his brow stitched. No collar. She was too friendly to be a stray. Ezra ran a hand down the cat's back, dislodging some of the lint and disposing of a handful of it into the wastebasket. Already, Ezra was designing a narrative for this small, monochrome Houdini. She'd somehow ventured in, perhaps through an open window (sometimes he was so absent-minded), taken a dust-bath in dryer lint, and incurred the wrath of Gertrude. Ezra pet the cat again, intending to pull more lint free, but the cat suddenly vaulted onto his shoulders. The homunculus had taken a step back in alarm. But when he felt the paws of a cat trying to steady their weight, not trying to slice his face, he righted himself.
“Oh!” Ezra gasped in alarm, “My stars, you're friendly. Did your people leave you outside on this dreary day? Hmm?”
Gertrude yowled in part-displeasure and part-resignation. Ezra thinned his nonexistent lips at the tabby, “She's a guest, Gertrude, let's show her some hospitality. Hm?” Ezra stepped gingerly past his cat, just as the surprise cat made herself comfortable and began to lick Ezra’s face. Gertrude followed urgently behind them. They rounded back into the main living area, where Alice could be spied keeping an owlish watch from the tippy top of the cat tree (one of very few modern pieces of furniture in the homunculus's house).
The timid watcher slipped from view when they entered into the kitchen. The homunculus gave a practiced bow to the refrigerator, making sure not to tip the cat as he retrieved a small, plastic container. It contained chicken that had been boiled and unseasoned, and existed solely for the cats.
”Hungry?” Ezra inquired. Perhaps if he could coax the creature down with bribery of food, he could clean the lint clumps off of it.
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Jul 20, 2018 11:16:53 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
Calling-out sick felt like a lousy thing to do, particularly on a Friday. Primarily because Friday's and Saturday's were half-days at Xavier's, for the homunculus, and secondly because Ezra did not get sick. Consequently, the homunculus found himself with too many sick days and nowhere to spend them... so, he took a self-care day.
The idea of a "self-care day" had been introduced to him by one of the tenants in the neighboring apartment. Ezra had been repairing her garbage disposal when she asked if he had plans, if he was taking time for himself, et cetera. Admittedly he hadn't made any plans. After 250 years of traversing the world, it was nice to settle.
Oh, but this wouldn't do for the tenant-- she thought that "no plans" equated to "no time for yourself"-- and Ezra, as one of her favorite superintendents, deserved time to himself.
It was thus that Ezra found himself, n his linen pajamas, a house robe and slippers, pouring himself over a book. Self-care, to the homunculus, meant reading until your vision went blurry. Besides, it was a muggy, misty day, and he would not deign to leave the house when it was like this.
His feline counterparts seemed to be keeping themselves preoccupied. Alice, the white-more-than-tabby cat, would periodically hop onto the back of the couch and headbutt the back of Ezra's head. After receiving an adequate number of pets, she'd depart once more, only to return a half dozen chapters later.
In typical Gertrude fashion, Gertrude was nowhere to be found. She tended to be aloof, however, so this was not a cause for concern, for the homunculus.
What did concern him was the agitated ruckus that arose upstairs-- a low, keening yowl that quivered on the air and melted into a growl. Cat fight? And Gertrude seemed to be the aggressor. Alice's meow was more of a squeak or a trill. Less... resounding.
"Gertrude?" Ezra inquired. Maybe she saw someone outside. She frequently squared-up at neighbor cats through the window.
Another growl answered, this time with a hiss. It sounded more central, not very close to the windows at all.
"Gertrude, I sincerely hope you aren't bullying Alice."
Ezra bookmarked his page and roused himself from the couch, setting his copy of Don Quixote on the coffee table. He padded towards the stairs, following the sounds of a very perturbed Gertrude. When he reached the stairs, Alice stole past him, low to the ground. Whatever her sister was annoyed at, it was a cause for concern for Alice.
"Gertrude?"
He was steadily ascending the stairs, eyes skimming for the familiar, fluffy tabby. He reached the second floor, and saw that she was standing in the door to the laundry room. The... laundry room.
"Gertrude," Ezra sighed, "Darling, what's going on? Are you fighting the w-? Oh, gracious."
She was not, contrary to his initial belief, yowling at the washer. There was a cat in there-- another cat, one he hadn't seen before, and was most certainly not his.
"Aren't you a pretty thing," Ezra mused, extending a hand to the unfamiliar cat, "You'll have to excuse Gertrude... she's the lady of the house." And Alice was her mistress, and Ezra was her staff. Ezra knew his place. Gertrude howled again, ending her raucous complaint with a growl, "Gertrude, please."
Strange cat permitting, Ezra would scritch the scruff of her neck and her chin, feeling for a collar, "Where did you come from, little one?"
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Jul 17, 2018 16:05:28 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
>> "Is it bad that stuff like this is starting to seem normal?"
Ezra inclined an eyebrow at the child. Stuff like this?
"Are happenings like this a common occurrence?" he replied hesitantly.
>> "It's moving around so you think it could be one of the other kids?"
"It seems possible-"
The homunculus broke-off, coming to a halt. Just then, DJ Roomba whirred across the aisle, emitting periodic *beeps* and *dings* before vanishing beneath another shelf.
"Ah! There!" Ezra ran down the aisle, crouching on the floor.
"I saw a- thing!"
He wasn't sure what that thing was, but it was escaping.
"It-! It's escaping!"
He noticed, from this angle, that he'd need to vacuum under the shelves, but the... disc... robot... thing seemed to be helping with that, marginally. Ezra reached after that, but was not able to get a hold of it. For, as he reached, it puttered beyond the bookshelf.
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Jul 17, 2018 15:52:52 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
The girl's retort earned a furrowed brow from the homunculus. She had read The Awakening? Hm. Either Ezra was in the company a savante, or this person was secretly older than they looked. If they were older, however, it wouldn't be polite to ask them their age. Ezra clutched the book to his chest, his pace subconsciously quickening towards the kiosk. How embarrassing.
"I've read it a handful of times," he replied. For a moment, Ezra was about to assert that he was the librarian, as if that meant he had to be well-read, but... well, if this person wasn't older, he was not about to defend himself to a child. Ezra approached the kiosk, with its mirrored windows. Someone should have been there to greet the girl at the gate, particularly given the prevalence of the vigilante's based-out of the Mansion.
>> "See? No one there. Think you could help me, Mister..."
"Pahlke. Ezra Pahlke," the homunculus replied, bowing slightly at the waist, "And you are?"
Skeptically, he rapped his knuckles against the window. Even if some of them were on lunch break, he highly doubted that the kiosk would be empty. He righted himself, waiting for a response... and heard nothing. Ezra tried the door, which slid open with minimal struggling. Well, they had the sign-in sheet, and the guest passes, right there. Ezra supposed he could just sign the girl in and let her in.
The homunculus penned the sign-in himself, marking the date and the time (after a brief glance at the clock). His golden eyes lifted towards the petite blonde. As soon as she gave him her name, he'd pen it in, retrieve her a pass, and figure out how this door operated.
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Jul 15, 2018 2:01:19 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
Ezra's gaze fell a rather svelte young... person. It was difficult to rule what their gender might be, but they were rather tall. Oversized earphones are removed, and they addressed the anxious librarian directly.
>> "Is something wrong, Sir?"
"Something is wrong, yes," Ezra confirmed, his troubled gaze sweeping downwards, "An unusual voice plagues me and I-"
"A SINGLE LAP SHOULD BE COMPLETED EACH TIME YOU HEAR THIS SOUND *DING*."
"-cannot, for the-"
"REMEMBER TO RUN IN A STRAIGHT LINE, AND RUN AS LONG AS POSSIBLE."
"- life of me-"
"THE SECOND TIME YOU FAIL TO COMPLETE A LAP, YOUR TEST IS OVER."
The voice appeared to be moving, at which Ezra turned helplessly towards the stacks again.
"-find it."
"THE TEST WILL BEGIN ON THE WORD START. ON YOUR MARK, GET READY, START."
Ezra began to pace past the shelves, his voice quivering with uncertainty.
"I was singing l shelving books, in the back, when it began," Ezra recounted. Were they even still listening? It was beyond him. The first *beep* reverberated off of the bookshelves.
He glanced back towards the raven-haired child, his mouth contorted in a frown.
*ding*
ooc: I request that any further participants ask permission prior to joining.
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Jul 14, 2018 0:11:16 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
The young lady seemed slightly taken aback by the homunculus that addressed her. The look Ezra returned was drawn and patient. He'd been around for over three centuries, this reception was nothing new to him. He could only, placidly, wonder which reaction she would choose. Frantic gasp? Surprised scream? Terse but polite response? She blinked, then gave a polite smile-- ah, these were his favorite people. He quirked a polite smile back. The girl insisted that she could find the entrance herself. Ezra bowed cordially at the waist.
"Ah, I see," he replied, "I'm certain... there must be some sort of... greeter at the gate."
The fact that security had not greeted the child was curious on its own. Ezra continued in that direction, strolling at a liesurely pace in that direction. He'd glance in the kiosk on his way by, but... perhaps they were just distracted? Eating lunch? Lots of the staff ate lunch after the student lunch, unless they were teachers.
>> "What are you reading?"
"Chopin," Ezra replied brightly, "The Awakening." He chewed on an appropriate synopsis, one that might appeal (or make sense to) a younger demographic. The homunculus was always enthusiastic about sharing knowledge with young minds, and encouraging curiosity, "The story is about a woman who grows tired of trying to meet peoples' expectations."
That was one way to put it.
>> "I don't suppose we could just skip the kiosk, and let me right on in, could we? I'm in quite a rush, you see."
Ezra cast a sidelong glance through the bars of the wrought iron fence. The bars stood even taller than the homunculus himself.
"I... don't believe that's possible, Miss," he said plainly. Besides, which, it wasn't his business. The lady had insisted that she could find her way to find the kiosk herself. He wouldn't help her enter the grounds without a pass. That was unnecessarily dishonest.
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Jul 13, 2018 12:00:51 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
Legally, Xavier's was required to give Ezra a lunch-- a pointless gesture, really, provided that he didn't eat. As such, Ezra used the free period to mill about the grounds, nose buried in a book. One lunch period was ample time for one lap around the grounds, and besides, the weather was absolutely gorgeous today. A soft soprano voice harkened to Ezra from beyond the fence. That, alone, drew his attention. Additionally, the person who summoned him was wearing the most peculiar outfit! Something about the dress was distinctly 17th century-- the collar, perhaps-- but the dress itself struck him as vaguely Victorian. This was offset by a very modern pair of pigtails. It was all wrong, all wrong-- a Frankenstein's monster of different periods in fashion, if he could be so bold as to make that comparison.
The site of antiquated fashion was, nonetheless, a welcomed one. Even if the collar predated Ezra's own existence. Ezra politely closed his book, using a bookmark to keep his place, as the petite blond addressed him through the fence.
>> "Excuse me! Hi there! I'm here to speak with someone in charge!"
"Do you mean, Mister Kipperling?" the homunculus offered. He'd be peering down his nose at the girl, if he had one, "He is the principal here. I am afraid that you will have to proceed to the front gate, however. Do you know the way there?"
Logically, she could just follow the fence, or Ezra could lead her there. But she would have to check-in before meeting with the principal. That was simply how things were done at Xavier's.
"I would be happy to escort you to the visitor's kiosk," Ezra insisted. That's where his walk would lead, anyways, and they could clearly see the small building at the entry gate, wherein an outpost of school security gave guess passes and ensured that no sketchy sorts were trying to venture their way in. It would be foolish to make the same trip, side-by-side, without speaking to one another. Today's tweed suit was a grey herringbone, accented by a maroon necktie and white crosshatched shirt. A newsboy cap was pulled low over the homunculi's eyes, and his hair was wrangled back into its usual ponytail.
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Jul 12, 2018 20:42:25 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
Though Ezra enjoyed most of the students who frequented his library, it wouldn't be far from the truth to say that he preferred the library during class. It was quiet, and he had time to shelve books, to dust, and to decompress from the various shenanigans that accompanied working at a school for mutant children. The homunculus flitted down the quiet stacks of books, the wooden cart laden with books to be shelved squeaking as he moved about.
From the further reaches of the library, Ezra could not see the main doors to the library. He similarly did not hear the doors open, nor did he see the squashed, cylindrical robot get deposited onto the floor. Its wheels, which had previously been spinning uselessly in the air, suddenly gained traction on the carpet and propelled the machine forward. Snickering, the offending party scattered. DJ Roomba had officially been unleashed on Xavier's library-- and Mr. Pahlke, Xavier's librarian, was none the wiser.
DJ Roomba propelled with determination towards a desk, encountered a leg, turned, and promptly found his way beneath one of the many bookshelves.
Ezra, still unaware, surveyed the spine of a book, before seeking out its place on the shelf.
“THE WELLNESSGRAM PACER TEST IS A MULTISTAGE AEROBIC TEST THAT PROGRESSIVELY GETS MORE DIFFICULT AS IT CONTINUES,” DJ Roomba reported, at maximum volume, from beneath one of the shelves.
“What in the devil,” Ezra swore, tensing at the disembodied voice. DJ Roomba ran into one of the supporting legs of a bookshelf, rotated itself in the shadows, and proceeded in another direction.
“THE TWENTY METER PACER TEST WILL BEGIN IN THIRTY SECONDS. LINE UP AT THE START.”
It was official, the library was haunted by minuscule automatons. Ezra emerged from the stacks, a book clutched tightly in his hands and brow knitted. His gaze swept the ground, for the voice seemed to originate from somewhere low, but he couldn't find the source.
The door creaked open, snagging Ezra’s gaze, in time for DJ Roomba to report,
“THE RUNNING SPEED STARTS SLOWLY, BUT GETS FASTER EACH MINUTE AFTER YOU HEAR THIS SIGNAL. *BEEP!* “
Ezra cast a wordless and pleading glance at the figure in the door, distressed by the fact that he could not locate the source of the noise.
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Jul 12, 2018 17:40:25 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
If Ezra had more wherewithal, he would have noticed the correlation to the diminishing amount of his Tom Collins and his increasingly foggy thoughts. Someone who might not necessarily know the homunculus well might say, “Well, he's a big fellow, certainly he could hold his liquor!”
They would be wrong, on two accounts-- Ezra’s lankiness put him at a distinct disadvantage, and he also scarcely ate. There was nothing in his stomach to absorb the alcohol. As such, the typically close-lipped homunculus was hastily wandering into “open book" territory. Particularly for the fellow who seemed to fit the “swashbuckling hero" stereotype to a T.
“What a good brother,” Ezra commended his friend, smiling a tad sloppily, “I wish I had a brother like that. I don't even have family… as far as I know.”
He laughed at how he thought that might sound. “No family.”
“That's not entirely accurate,” he corrected himself, pointing an index finger skyward as if preparing to make a proclamation, “I have no biological family. I've found plenty of surrogate families over the years. Birds of a feather, and all that.”
He peered at Dante, wondering if the smaller man caught his drift.
Posted by Ezra Pahlke on Jul 12, 2018 17:22:24 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
olivedrab / 6b8e23
hella gay
hella single
52
14
Apr 25, 2024 23:15:42 GMT -6
sophy
Unconsciousness (or for less delicate individuals, “death") was different from stasis. Stasis descended upon Ezra gradually, as one might drift-off for a pleasant mid-afternoon catnap. Unconsciousness was like someone flicking the light of the world “off". One moment he was in line with his chamomile tea, the next-- nothing. Unseen by Ezra, the antecedent to his sudden and spontaneous “death” moved just out of range, calling for bystanders to notify 9-1-1, heralding for someone to perform CPR, and the likes. In the cramped business, patrons hummed little agitated gnats.
The hum of people may have been disrupted by the sudden gasp that exploded from Ezra as he came-to. It was a wholly unnecessary action, for he didn't breath, but he did it regardless. Knobby fingers twisted into his shirt as his golden eyes tried to focus on the too-bright tea shop. He became gradually aware of the presence of too many eyes, all trained on him-- and he seemed to be in the company of giants, for they all loomed over him.
“Gracious,” he breathed. He then noticed that those were his legs splayed outwardly, and that he was on the floor, “Good heavens!”
The homunculus shakily got to his feet-- quite the feat for someone who'd apparently been on death's doorstep moments prior. That… hadn't happened to him before. How had that happened? Was something amiss with his gem? He couldn't very well survey it here. Golden eyes swam blearily around. Disjointedly he assumed he knew this place, but he'd need to see the sign to be sure.
Truthfully, the homunculus was more than a little shaken.
“H-humbly, I beg your pardon,” he said hurriedly, before shakily picking his way towards the door. For a moment, as he passed the antecedent to his near-death, the room tilted. Ezra managed to find his way to the door, however, and shakily descended a trio of stairs to the sidewalk. In his franticness, he'd forgotten his tea on the floor.