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 Pharoah Dynasty
An ancient sorceress is on a quest to bring her long-lost warrior-king to the modern era in a bid for global domination. Can the heroes of the modern world stop her before all is lost?
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.
Vicente sighed as he walked through the empty blackness of Central Park. It was late tonight and most of the place emptied except for a few strays and hoodlums lurking about. But Vicente was far more terrifying than any of them could be so he had absolutely no fear for his life. Still though, he hated to be interrupted while he was in the middle of his cleansing ritual. So far the assassin had spilled no blood for the past week and today was the last day. He could accept jobs again once this night was over. Once he rid his soul of the many dead that he sent into the underworld.
In the dead of the night, Vicente de la Sangre, walked confidently up over the rolling hill of Central Park with a black duffle bag slung across his chest. The leather vest clad man walked with no fear, his boots crushing the grass underfoot with each step. Casually he reached into his jean’s pocket to make sure he still had one of the vital components he would need for the night. Once he discovered its presence, he smirked to himself.
It was only when Vicente walked into a dark opening that was surrounded by trees and seemed fairly well hidden away from the rest of the populace did he stop and set his bag down. The setting up for his rite was ritualistic as well.
Once the bag was open he pulled out a large, hand-woven blanket that looked extremely worn with age and was torn in various spots. It was one that he had knelt on many times before, on many nights very similar to this one, and one again it shall be used.
After he laid it out carefully, Vicente then began to set up the rest of his materials. Before him on a broken plate of wood, the assassin set down a small ceremonial bowl, and several smaller ones that contained a variety of herbs and other natural products. Each was laid out with precision and care. When that was taken care of, he stood looking down at it closely. When he was sure everything was set, he pulled off his vest and folded it very carefully. Vicente moved back to the rug and very slowly moved onto his knees.
Taking a deep breath, Vicente began to pray in a tongue that was long forgotten and that few had ever heard spoken in this modern age.
He had not eaten for two days now, nor had water touched his lips. His mind was set to travel into the spirit realm to ask for forgiveness for the many lives he has taken. With eyes closed, Vicente mumbled more of his prayer as he reached down and picked up an ancient and ceremonial knife that used to belong to his father. Holding his hand up over the empty, wooden bowl, he pressed the blade against his palm and struck swift, slicing open the skin. A surface wound, not major. A few ruby red drops fell into the bowl and into which he added the herbs, seeds and proceeded to pick up a grinding stone. Methodically he mashed the contents together, adding in pure water and various other ingredients until a fine paste was made.
Still uttering his prayers, Vicente slowly came to a stop, reached into the bowl and scraped up a glob of the concoction onto his index and middle finger. Opening his mouth, he gently placed a helping onto his tongue, breathed in deep…
There was a blackness…void…which suddenly changed into a flurry of images…
Money had brought Sara into the city again but Sara didn't know why she had to choose this city. She had only wanted to trade in some gold for some cash, and she could do that in any city now a days. New York was just the city that she had spent the longest time in. Oh well. Things were funny that way. Funnier yet was the fact that she was still in New York.
It was the park that was one of Sara's favorite places in the city. Especially at night because things were quieter. That's why when Sara heard someone speaking in an odd language, it caught her attention.
Curiosity had brought her closer to the voice's owner till she could spy on him between a set of thicker branches. For a moment Sara stood silent unnoticed. Tip of her tail twitching. She knew enough to recognize some type of ritual but not enough to really know what was going on. The odd man cut his hand and Sara's eyes dialated further thanks to the metallic smell of blood that somehow made it through her nose and felt like it rested in her taste buds. The raw sensation made her nose wrinkle at the corners. Great. Sara knew that she probably should leave, but what would she learn by doing that?
She even stood while those herbs were mashed and that smell invaded her nostrils as well. This should have been a lot more entertaining than it was, but the climax seemed to be this odd man eating some of the herbs.... Sara stood there for a moment more... Yup that was it. Time to move on.
Sara left her hiding spot from the shadows of the branches an into the dim light thrown by the night above. What this bleeding strange herb eating individual would see, is a mountain lioness with bipedal hips. She wore cloths like most norms, only fashioned them to fit her more comfortably with a red sleeveless loose top, a Leather cuff that stretched from her knuckles to her elbow on her right hand, and jeans that had been costumed for a tail. Other than the way that she looked her movement was casual.
"You missed some of that stuff on your lower lip." Sara said in passing. Then turned to leave.
Eyes wide, Vicente inhaled deeply as the mysterious of the universe opened for up him. For a second that breath was his last as he felt the world melt away and become replaced with the ethereal splendor of the spirit world. He felt his grasp slipping away from the mortal world as he entered the most important part of his ritual. He would speak to the denizen of the spirit realm, a servant of the great Gods and Goddess, and ask what actions he can perform to once again cleanse his blood filled soul.
But the journey to the spirit world was not an easy one. Eyes widely dilated, Vicente felt his world finally vanish as images flashed through his mind and told him the story he needed to know in order to breach the barrier of the spirit realm…
I stood upon the hill of the Mother Goddess and she cried out to the Four Skybearers, lamenting the fall of her children into the underworld from wince so many of the grapes of plenty had spilled forth and allowed the hubris filled man to take a sample and themselves believe that they were gods. But those gods, being false and unable to attain the boats that soared over the fast moving seasons instead fell into the gapping maw of Xolotl whom chewed the false ones over and over again before releasing their essence into the world of the high mountains from whence they had to staggered down on the bloodied stumps of their worn away limbs before collapsing before the Tonantzin and begged for forgiveness from the might of Tonatiuh’s flaming talons…
Only the story of their death opened the maw of Cipactli at the foundation of the Earth and therefore opened the world of spirits for the wayward traveler.
A gasp and Vicente knew that he entered. The spiritual world that lay directly on top of the mortal world shimmered and echoed with every rustle of leaves and ever song of birds. The old assassin turned and glanced at the trees, noticed that they moved both fast and slow at their discretion and whispered in a language that he could not understand. He knew he should not listen to them. They would lead him astray. Every spirit in this realm was.
Every spirit that is except for the one who would be sent to converse with him. Only that one would be trustworthy. All other spirits, they spilled lies from their salivating maws. To listen to them would be allowing them to latch onto his soul like a leech and follow him out one he left this realm. He could not allow that. Instead….he would wait for his speaker to come…
And then she did.
He paused when he heard the rustling and figured that it was only the trees and plant spirits attempting to diverge him from his path. So he ignored it. But before long, he watched as the clothing clad lioness, stepped out and turned to acknowledge him. Spirits were rarely so up front…only those that were sent as messengers were. And her message to reveal his task to once more cleanse the blood from within him…
>> "You missed some of that stuff on your lower lip."
He tilted his head and watched as she turned to go. No. That was not the message. She must be a new awakened spirit, or maybe even a mischievous one sent on this mission. Whatever the reason, he could not simply let it walk away. Wiping the last of the herbs from his lower lip, Vicente quickly moved onto his feet and began to follow the feline…
“You, spirit,” he announced. “Tezcatlipoca must have sent you. You bare his feline features. Tell me, what is his message? How may I cleanse my soul this night? I am at your disposal, spirit.”
Sara paused mid step looking back at the odd man. Head tilted. Sara had only experienced strangers acting this way towards her once and that was in the past. Like History from a text book past. As in several hundred years into the past when Sara had visited Egypt. You know. Time lord style.
Awww Crap! She didn't accidently time skip again. did she? Sara's eyes widened for a moment and she scanned the New York Sky line. The buildings were still there and so were their electric lights. Electricity was a good thing. So all was well in her time line. Sara then began to wonder if this person could be in the wrong time instead?.. .. .. Or maybe he was just crazy.. .. .. Letting those thoughts circle around in her mind, Sara readdressed the odd man.
"Tezcatlipoca" She repeated. The name rolling of off Sara's tounge with the slurred accent that Sara's longer teeth made Unique to her. "Similar to Egypt's Sakmet. Hmmm?" She mused.Who would have thought that Sara would have a reason to study up on her cat gods and myths after the first time?
OK. So how was Sara supposed to figure out if this Guy was from the past, or just crazy. If he was from the past, there was a little Dr. Wan-a-Who, with his sonic wax candle, who was going to have some splainen' to do. For the moment, Sara could only think of one plan and that was to keep this guy busy and maybe she could sort things out.
"Well alright then. Travel up river. Past the contaminants, and pluck a large fish from the water. We will go on from there."
Vicente stood there, convinced of his entrance in the spirit realm and implored the spirit to speak to him. He prayed that this creature would be able to give him Tezcatlipoca’s message. Grant him a chance to cleanse his body of the blood of those whom he has slayed. He needed this in order to continued his work. Though he did notice that as time passed, as he aged, the voices of the gods were slowly growing meeker to his ears. He did not know why but he always hoped it was not permanent. Were they losing faith in him?
He shook his head. No. No! He had to be one of their most loyal servants. His faith never faltered. They wouldn’t abandon him, not now.
So he waited. The spirit would talk to him. He knew she would…
>> "Tezcatlipoca…Similar to Egypt's Sakmet. Hmmm?"
Vicente said nothing. He did not want to interrupt the spirit’s train of thought. Spirit’s could be easily derailed and the last thing he wanted to do was get her off point. She needed to deliver the message. He had to hear it so he would make sure he would speak only when he was spoken to.
>> "Well alright then. Travel up river. Past the contaminants, and pluck a large fish from the water. We will go on from there."
He tilted his head. Why kind of task was that? That was not the type of command he was usually given. No. This was different. This was a mischievous spirit, the kind that Tezcatlipoca sent to more thoroughly test him. They were the most difficult to deal with, especially when one did not do everything in their power to please their selfish demands. But he knew that in the end they would always finish their task. They had to or incur the wrath of the gods.
So…he would do as she asked.
Nodding, he bowed gently to the spirit.
“Of course, spirit! I shall…I shall do exactly as you ask,” he said as he spun around and moved down the heel, heading towards the nearest body of water. The spirit forms of the fish should be easy enough to catch…
And!.. .. .. He was actually going to get Sara a fish? Really. As she asked. Just like that. She kicked herself for not thinking of something better. Anyways he wasn't really going to bring her a fish. Was he?
Sara did her best not to look shocked as she watched the odd man walk away and to the nearest water source. Mean while, he had left his belongings with Sara. Ok so they were only near Sara in her general vicinity. They might as well have been left with Sara. So it should be understood that about now curiosity reared it's handsomely ugly head.
Sara's eyes shifted from the backside of the odd stranger, to his blanket and to, what she assumed, were his belongings. She knew that she shouldn't touch them.. .. .. but looking at them wouldn't hurt. Would it?
With a quick glance to where the odd man had disappeared, Sara edged her way over to the blanket. Her hocks and knees bent so that she could crouch over the different items looking down to carefully examine them. Eyes wide and nostrils flared taking in the pungent spicy sent of crushed herbs that Sara hadn't tasted the sent of before. A quick glance around told her that the coast was still clear. so her attention traveled to the sacrificial blade.
The knife wasn't as shiny as other knives that Sara had seen, but with the blood that still stuck to the metal, there was still a glitter to it. The glitter changed when Sara shifted her weight back and forth changing her point of view and making the metal seem to dance in it's place. Sara knew that she shouldn't try to touch the blade... .. ... But.. .. ..
Sara's left hand's finger tips hovered over it carefully. Then edged till it was a hair's width away.
Vicente stood waist deep in water as he felt the ethereal fish swim about his legs and feet. This body was water was a reasonable facsimile of the lake in Central Park, but he knew that this was the spirit world. What he was standing in was not actually water, only the ghostly residue that seeped into the spirit realm. It was a beautiful rendition with colors and sensations that far surpassed anything that was in the mortal realm. He had to admit that he enjoyed his forays into this realm to cleanse his soul. So few people ever witnessed such a world…
The assassin did not turn back to face where he left the spirit behind. He knew that it would wait for him to return. It was bound by the spiritual laws to obey its master. And it was obvious that it’s master instructed it to deliver Vicente his message.
Unfortunately this meant that he needed to indulge its playfulness. These spirits enjoyed their games far too much for his liking, but he would accept its tasks until it delivers its message.
Eyes closed, the assassin slowed his breathing as he stood there, waiting for one of the fish to draw far too close to him. Being so still, he blended in with the ethereal water, as if he were little more than another spiritual rendition in the lake.
Seconds ticked by, then a minute, then…he felt that first, cautious brush of a fish against his calf…
SPLASH!!
His hand dove into the water and pulled out a rather large fish that flipped and flopped feebly in his grip. He held the fish tight in his grip until it slackened and finally remained still between his meaty fingers. The man smirked as he nodded to it. It willingly gave its spiritual energies in order to appease the servant…
His task complete, Vicente headed back to his site where the spirit would bound to be waiting for him…
Well then. That was Vincent's take on what happened and in his head he really was holding a celestial fish and had stood in a celestial river.
But here's what really happened.
Sara was at the site of the ritual site. Finally giving in to her temptation to touch that interesting knife. She'd picked up the blade and had begun running the tip of her claw on her index digit across the smear of blood that was drying. Her nostrils flared and her eyes dilating and refocusing as the light danced across the metal. On the other hand.. .. ..
Vincent was standing in a celestial river that was actually a bush that was rustling in the breeze. Taking shelter in that bush was an older man wearing a tattered long coat and a surprised look on his face at the scary looking man who stood over him. The fish? Well that was the homeless man's boot being pulled off of his foot. And then the fisherman struck.
"Hey My shoe. You jerk. What the hell!"
Sara was just finishing etching a smiley face surrounded by flowers and fish with the tip of her claw when the cry of the surprised man almost made her drop the knife. She set the blade back in it's place just as the fisherman came back into view.
Celestial fish. They were crafty when they wanted to be. This one had seemingly taken the form of a boot.
The homeless man followed Vincent who looked happy with himself. He had a boot. Where was the fish? Her tail flicked expectantly and one furry eye brow raised. "Didn't you have any luck?" Sara asked. Her words startled the homeless man who promptly grabbed for the boot, that seemed to be what a celestial fish looked like. The homeless man tried to yank his boot from Vincent's hands and run away from the scary mutants.
Vicente was triumphant. He returned to the waiting spirit, as he knew it would be doing, and proudly held the leather, very smelly seeming, fish in his grasp. Behind him he heard the rustling of the wind which almost sounded like the sounds of protest. Obviously that is not what it was. Why would the wind protest him? He was carrying out a task for the spirits! A mission for the gods! Of course it was not as glamorous as most tasks were, but then again he was probably dealing with one of the more mischievous spirits. They tended to be more flamboyant when it came to the tasks they gave. If not to irritate their hero, then merely to see how far they can push them.
He continued to ignore the complaining sounds of the world behind him as he moved forward. There he saw the spirit, standing next to his ritual site with his knife in her hand. He figured the spirit was probably attracted to the shiny metal so he did not interrupt it.
Instead, he grinned like a proud warrior as he stepped up to her and presented her with…the sacred celestial fish! (Which was actually just a smelly boot but he couldn’t tell the difference right now!)
He beamed and waited for her praise…
>> "Didn't you have any luck?"
Huh? he paused as his grin faltered for a second.
“I don’t…understand, spirit,” he said in a confused tone. “I did exactly as you asked. See?” he once against presented her with his sacred fish/boot!
Then…the boot was grabbed at!
Vicente turned and finally faced what those complaining sounds were that had followed him. It was another spirit and this was one trying to take back the fish! More than likely a servant of Atl, a god of the waters. Was that river he was in under the protection of that particular deity? Where those his sacred fish? If so then no wonder the spirit sent him off to claim it. Still, he would not take this set-back!
He snarled as he pulled the “fish” back away from the angry spirit (the homeless man) and set his eyes. He was going to need to show his strength to scare this one off. Twitching his neck to the side, Vicente held that “fish” tight as a tug-of-war ensued. As it did, Vicente began to shift. His face began to reconstruct itself, bones snapped and popped as his very human skull began to elongate and shift into that of a lion’s head. Before the spirit/homeless man’s eyes, Vicente’s entire head had shifted into that of a lion’s with a full mane of golden hair bristling with anger.
Vicente bared his yellowed, blood stained fangs and ROOOOAAAAAAWWWRRRRR[/b]-ed at the spirit. The fish was not for him!
Sara stood there dumbfounded as she watched this strange man play tug of war with a homeless man over a boot. A very smelly boot that made Sara's nose wrinkle. What in the world did this guy think a fish looked like? An odd thought occurred to Sara that maybe this is what this man thought a fish was.
Of course he would be confused.
"You didn't get me a fish at all." Sara said. Perhaps making this explanation much simpler than she should be. I mean come on. How do you explain to someone that they don't have a fish?
One man's boot could be another man's fish. Right?
Sara was just about to attempt to explain more when the strange man's face shifted. She could hear it first. Then saw the change in his skin. Smooth surfaces turned to fur that was much like hers but also more wild turning into a mane.
He roared scaring the poor homelessman half to death. he stumbled back falling on his back side, scrambling like a crab till he managed to topple over again. Obviously not willing to risk his life for a boot, he turned and ran for his life spouting something about bad zoo keepers and freakishly rotten breath.
"HEY!" Sara's voice practically barked to cut the roar short. weither it did or not,her voice resonatedwith the word. Making an unintentional imitation of her more wild self. Sara's speek carried her acrossthegrass within the blink of an eye where she rested a hand on the boot before gently tugging at it. "What you need to realize is that there is no fish."
Idiot grabbed a boot. Boots are not edible.
Note to self. Unweird looking people doing your bidding might be more productive.
The words fell on deaf ears. Instead Vicente was still trying to control his anger. His shift had gone through and he roared at the evil spirit that had attempted to steal his celestial fish. It was a bluff, a show of strength. He knew that he had not the true power to vanquish a spirit but he had hoped that this little bluff would be enough to startle the spirit into giving up the fish.
The look on the spirit’s face was priceless. It stumbled back, crying out and attempting to flee from his roar. Vicente took a gamble trying to pull a move like this off, but apparently it worked. It was enough to send the spirit running and keep his fish safe.
He growled low, in a pleased manner, as he turned to face the other spirit whom had his message from the gods. She looked a little peeved but it was probably only because the evil spirit had attempted to steal her fish. But he had been able to defend it. That should be worth a pretty penny, or at least a bit of the message that she owed him. While the Vicente was willing to do whatever this entity wanted, he was not about to waste his entire journey just running its errands. He prayed that it would cease at this moment.
He presented her with…the fish…
>> "HEY! What you need to realize is that there is no fish."
His furry head tilted curiously. His black lips twisted down in a confused manner as he snarled a little at the comment. What the hell was the spirit going on about now? Did it really dare proclaim that the fish he had brought her was not genuine? It was not like he had brought back a mortal fish! Instead he brought exactly what was asked of him to bring. But why could the spirit simply not recognize that? Instead it seemed to be up to more of its trickery.
He growled, starting to get very tired of its games!
“I have brought you what you asked for,” he said trying to contain his temper and handed the celestial fish out to her. “What other task do you have?”
Sara eyed the strange man for a moment, then let her eyes shift down to the boot as she turned it over in her clawed, paw like, hands. "You brought me a homeless man's boot." Sara said as she eased her way to the right. Examining her right hand then focusing on her thumb claw, the digit's natural knife slowly extended to it's fullest length and she used it to untangle the laces from the boot in such a motion that one might think she was gutting a fish.
The motions wasn't fully intentional, but maybe some small part of Sara wanted to play with this strange man and what he believed was really going on now. "Like this task, where you brought me a boot, not a fish, I think that you would mess up any other little orders I would give you."
Sara finished her little circle around Vincent, not looking at him but at the boot that she had completely unlaced. twining her fingers around the loops around her free hands digits. She pulled the tong of the boot forward and turned back to Vincent. Boot held up then put over his head like a hat. The boots tong handing down the front of the lion head's face like the nose peace of a roman helmet.
"How about you sober up." Sara continued letting her hands move away from the boot made into a hat so that they rested on either side of the lion like mane for a moment. Holding the head so he had no choice but look her right in the eye and the better that she could study him. "Clean up the blood, Get some new cloths. Maybe give some away too." Sara "Oh. And buy me a..." Sara pulled her hands away to make the quotation mark signs with her fingers. "Real, meal should we meet again."
Vicente growled. What game was this creature playing now? He completed her task and still she was toying with him? What was the deal? He conducted the rites, he was prepared the herbs, he spilled the blood, he even caught the celestial fish and still this spirit refused to grant him his request. Was all this simply for the sake of wiping the blood from soul? Was that the spirits game? If so, Vicente was only too glad to play it, but he was quickly growing tired of it at the same time.
When was this going to end? He only had so long before the herbs he had prepared would no longer keep him in the spirit realm. Before long his time would be up before his soul was cleansed. He needed to speed this up…
>> “Like this task, where you brought me a boot, not a fish, I think that you would mess up any other little orders I would give you."
“Stop…speaking in riddles,” Vicente growled, his golden eyes following her movements with intensity. “I do not know why you will not admit that I have completed your task. But if you have another task, then so be it.”
He had to hold his tongue. He simply had to. If he did not have the cleansing done tonight, he will not be able to enter the spirit world again until for another month.
>> "How about you sober up…Clean up the blood, Get some new cloths. Maybe give some away too. Oh. And buy me a...Real, meal should we meet again."
Mentally he rolled his eyes. This had to be a trickster spirit. Why else would it ask for such inane things? The normal spirits he encountered during this ritual were always quick and to the point. They did not mess about to ask for things out of foolishness. Everything had its course and meaning and therefore it was all done for his betterment. But this spirit was proving to be taxing. He willed this experience to be over with as soon as possible.
With the gutted celestial fish made into a glorious headdress of honor, Vicente nodded. He would do as she asked.
“Fine, spirit. I shall return promptly,” he said as he suddenly took off in another direction, his feline nose sniffing the air. Food. He had to find food again…
Sara didn't think that she was talking in Riddles. As a matter of fact she was fairly certain that she was talking in plain English. Then the lion faced, and maned, mutant said that he would be back.
Back? No not back! Sara said a different time. Not now. Not again.
Sara should just leave before he returned. In fact she was certain that there were plenty of other places and people that she could get a free meal from. It wasn't like Sara had no friends in New York City or no one that she would be able to carry a much higher form or intelligent conversation with. However Curiosity was a pain in the tail side.
So like a tree, Sara.... Staid rooted to the spot.
------- MEAN WHILE--------
OK. Pop quizz hot shot.
You're a mutant sporting a lion's mane and lovely lion's teeth. It's the middle of the night and the celestial spirit has bestowed you with a gutted celestial fish head dress of honor and requested a meal. The smelly herbs that allow you to communicate with the wiggling glowing celestial realm may or may not be wibbling their last warbles. You're choices are:
a) Mothers with their children hurrying home from the store with a bag full of groceries ..... err.... I mean.... celestial precooked honey glazed boars.
b) Candy from a news stand ..... err..... I mean ..... Celestial cocao beans.
c) Or Chinese take out.... err..... I mean...... Taccos.
D) Find a Ferrari…errr…a Celestial Bear and slay it in order to provide a meal for a trickster spirit.
Vicente had stalked through the spirit world, looking for something in order to provide this spirit with the sustenance it desired. It was no easy task, apparently. He had provided the apparition with fishes from the celestial waters but it simply did not suffice. He wanted to this journey to be done so that he could return to the mortal realm and continue his work. But he knew better than to argue with the spirit, at least anymore than he had to. While he wanted to be done, he also knew that he could not leave until his task was complete.
He would gain that spirit’s favor before the night was through. But first he needed to find it a meal in order to prove his prowess.
As he stalked through the shimmers woods, he paused when he reached a lake of obsidian that was none too far from the sacred hill. As he peered through the veil of shimmering lights, he paused when he heard the roar of a fantastic beast that ran across it. The sleek, red furred celestial bear was roar so loud that he thought his eardrums would burst. But gently the beast calmed as it came to a halt by the side of the grass.
Grazing, maybe? Celestial bears don’t graze, but it simply be stopping to have a rest. Maybe catch the scent of its other passing spirits while it lounged.
Vicente knew that this was his chance.
Reaching down he snagged up a discarded club, probably something that one of the passing warrior spirits dropped, and readied himself. He would bring that spirit a feast by which she had never see.
----
Meanwhile…in “The Mortal Realm”
WHACK!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!!![/b]
“AYEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!
“Oh my god!!!”
The man behind the wheel of his Ferrari was terrified off his phone call as he locked his doors and screamed very loud. After set activating the car’s burglar alarm, he winced away from the sight of the lion-headed man with a boot on his head, striking the hood of the car with brick, denting and smashing it in. Frantically he honked his horn and tried to keep from panicking as he dialed 9-1-1…
“For the love of god, help meeeee!! He’s smashing my caaaaar!!!!”