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.
It was a curse for Winnie, to have her abilities treat her like some ping pong ball during a match. She wasn’t looking to shift back already but, lo and behold, the second she was relaxed after her frightening episode and poof, she was cradled in her new friend’s arms, draped across her massive limbs like some centerfold. It caused the photographer to burst out in a giggle, but poor Jack, it seems, had certainly not been expecting the action from her. She fumbled but managed not to drop the post-kiwi shifter.
>>"W-Winnie?!"
She grinned and nodded her head. ”Yeah, I know I know...I’m hideous when not a bird.” She dramatically placed the back of her hand against her forehead and looked away. A sigh of sadness fell from her lips before she turned around and grinned back at her giant mutant bodyguard. ”Relax, sweetie, I’m teasing.”
She inquired if her action had startled the crustacean mutant, as she knew it could be surprising to those who were not ready for it. Even her old roommates found themselves surprised on occasion when, trying to pet the soft-feathered bird, would suddenly find themselves straddled by the short-haired woman. Really it was a sight to behold.
However Jackie really seemed to be taking it like a champ.
>>"A- a little started...S- sorry."
Winnie just smirked. ”Don’t apologize, hunny,” She sighed as she was set down onto her own two feet. She stretched her back, arms up in the air, causing her midriff to expose even more of her well-toned stomach. Hands on her hips, she turned back around to her rescuer. She was taller now but she still had to look up to face her. ”I’m used to scaring the s**t out of people. But thank you, again, for saving me.”
Another sweet smile and she turned around, her hands in her back pockets. She used the opportunity to continue to pop her formerly compressed vertebrae. A small sigh on her lips, she turned around and spotted the fallen gas tank she had been carrying earlier. Thankfully, even though she had dropped it in her attempt to flee, it didn’t stray very far from where it was left. Bending down, she plucked it up in her hand and cradled it between her arms as she turned back to face her rescuer. Jackie seemed unsure of what to do and was silent before she gestured to her glorious orange friend.
Winnie turned and glanced back her bike. With a smile on her lips she turned around, unscrewed the gas cap and started to pour in the contents of the container that she had initially been carrying with her. Once it all had poured in, she sighed, screwed the top back on, and slipped the now empty container into the storage section just underneath the seat. Everything secured, she turned back to her friend and sighed.
>>"Sink you got it s'run here?"
Winnie thought for a second before she stepped closer to the towering mutant. If she remembered correctly, the other seemed to be sensitive about the arm that she had used to hurt the bot that had attempted to attack her. Her lips twisted into a unfortunate look as she leaned up to inspect the other’s arm. Honestly she didn’t know what she was looking for, but once she confirmed that it was tender to the touch, she raised her gaze up to Jackie.
”I don’t live far from here,” she said. ”Why don’t you follow me home? I got ice you can put on that arm.” She shrugged. ”I mean, I guess it’s the least I can do for my heroine.”
Whatever Nessa was trying to tell her, Winnie just didn’t buy it. He was sure that her friend was just busy trying to make herself more interesting or she was so blasted that she was making up stories about herself. She wanted to show the photographer something but Winnie couldn’t even fathom what it could be. Nessa seemed to think it was important, that it could be friendship-ending, but to Winnie she was just prepared for either a drunken smooch or cheap feel. Which of them would be the offending party, she wasn’t sure, all she knew was that things tended to be squeezed when she had this much alcohol.
But, she would try to comply. Sitting cross-legged, she sighed as she turned her tired eyes onto her friend, the woman who was trying so hard to stare into her eyes. Winnie didn’t make it easy, though, darting her gaze left and right, up and down, before she finally settled into her eyes friends. She wanted her to think thoughts, so considering her good mood she thought of one that was most prevalent in her mind. One that she was sure Nessa wouldn’t approve of but she didn’t care.
Oh it was an image that was perfectly burned into her mind. Maybe she embellished a little in her mind’s eye, but so what? Who didn’t imagine a celebrity with bigger assets than they already had? Honestly it would have probably been a crime to not do it. So painted herself a nice little picture of that meeting, almost wanting to carry it to another level, until she felt and heard Nessa recoil.
…Huh.
>>”Ugh! Bleh. Wow. Okay....You came to my place a few months ago. You got the dates wrong for lesbian movie night—again. You snuck in through the fire escape like a crazy person, and as such, you saw… just way too much of my brother.”
Winnie didn’t say anything at first. All she did was stare at her old friend staring at her staring back. Her face was utterly expressionless except for the slowly dull waiver of her posture due to her alcohol-induced state. She started back at Nessa, hard, blinking, then she gulped up down some saliva. She stayed like this for quite a few moments, a blank portrait of Winnifred Ann Wickham, a painting, a Mona Lisa...a Winnie Lisa; but it was a state that wouldn’t last. Eventually she would move and, when she did, there came a sound few would have expected her to make.
She snorted. She rolled her eyes. Lastly Winnie then reached up and patted Nessa’s face with the palm of her hand, though with maybe just a little too much force as that last hit would sound like a slap to those paying attention. Winnie, however, wasn’t mad, simply giggling as she shook her head and sat back against the couch, giving Nessa an unamused, yet amused, look.
”Duh, b****,” she said with a shake of her head. ”I’m the one that told you that story.” She did not. ”I remember it as clear as day…” She didn’t. ”I called you up and bragged about seeing Booker’s encyclopedia britannica.” That was a lie. However, Winnie was too drunk to think she was saying anything other than the absolute truth. She waved her hand at her friend, running her fingers over her face as she rested against the couch and picked up her controller again. ”No, stop trying to distact me. I’m trying to defeat that sick bastard Ryan Andrews and his perfect society.” She hiccuped. ”DOWN WITH COMMUNISM!!!”
With the world the way it was, it paid to be sure. After all, seeing what Jack did to that robot, the last thing that she wanted to do was piss off her knew friend and get whacked in the face with that sonic boom of a punch; it was liable to knock her head clean off of her shoulders. Plus, when you weren’t sure, it was just polite to reach out and ask. Maybe it was a question that her new friend got asked a lot and she would find it refreshing that someone would take the time to find out. You never can be too sure these days.
>>"Jackie,"
Winnie nodded. She laid her head back down and sighed a bit dreamily. ”Then lovely to make your acquaintance, love.” She sighed. ”I don’t deserve such a pretty rescuer.”
She grew quiet as she waited for the ride to end. They should be nearing where she was picked up, which actually wasn’t as far from her vespa as where she had left it. So she waited, humming softly to herself, feeling her anxiety lessen with every step. When finally her rainbow colored rescuer spoke up again, she tilted her head up towards her.
>>"Utt... ahead?"
She nodded. They rounded another corner and Winnie turned her head catching that splash of orange just ahead of her. She sighed a bit in satisfaction as she saw that her bike was fine exactly where it was. It didn’t look as if anyone rubbed up against it at all! How perfect! Another breath of relief and Winnie could feel herself relax all over -- which would lead to the next inevitable change.
POP!!!
In a burst of sudden cartoonish sound, Winnie felt her kiwi form drop away and was instead replaced by the short, athletically toned woman in her jeans, boots, peach midriff and her short red leather jacket. She was startled a bit, but not enough to revert back. Instead she just giggled and wrapped her arms around her rescuer’s neck, trying to hold on tight so that she wasn’t dropped in surprise. As she turned her stormy eyes onto the much taller mutant, she gave her a brilliant smile.
”Ah, there you are Jackie,” she said her patented, light-English lilt. ”Excuse me, I hope I didn’t startle you. I guess you managed to calm me down. Aren’t you the best?” She unwound on arm from around Jackie’s neck, kissed her index and middle finger and pressed the same fingers to her heroine’s carapace covered cheek.
If there was ever anything that would break up a friendship, it was the fact that her bestie in the whole of New York turned out to have a f**king secret lair! HOW can you have a secret lair and not brag about it, huh? HUH?! That was the thought that bounced around Winnie’s alcohol-addled mind as she tried to zero in on what her friend was saying. How long had she had this secret lair? Were their dangerous artifacts? Was there a laser superweapon that could demolish planets? Winnie would have to make plans to look carefully for exhaust ports so that she could make sure to stop Nessa before her plans of universal conquest reached fruition.
Of course, with all this talk of secret lairs, Winnie had to admit that it sounded pretty cool to have one. But where would she put hers? In the sewers below the city? Nah, she wasn’t a goddamn Young Adult Freak Samurai Igauna (she loved those movies, though!). Maybe in some lavish penthouse! Psh, the rent on a place like that would be absolutely insane. She could consider putting it out in the jungle. Surely the humidity will keep her minions sweaty and wearing as little clothes as possible for their comfort. Heh. Then again, if some hero came crashing in, how seriously could she be taken if all her security forces were wearing boy shorts?
Then, of course, there was the most important part of a secret lair -- what to name it? There were a plethora of amazing names out there: the Fortress of Aloneitude, the Flying Fox Cave, the Killstar, even the atrocious Deep Suck 9…(wait, was that the name of the space station in Space Trek or was that a porn she watched?). Either way! The name! That was the key! But what could she possibly name hers?
>>”No, no, no, no. No.”
Even as Nessa squiggled and maneuvered her way to get up, Winnie was still on her train of thought. For as brilliant as she knew she was, she just couldn’t decide on a name. All of it sounded so generic or a rip off of things she had read or seen a thousand times before! Ugh, unfortunately the only branding that made sense was the very name she would have avoided at all costs.
She grumbled. ”Bleh. I don’t want to name of secret lair The Fruit Basket!” she grumped. ”Utterly f**king lame…”
It took effort but finally Nessa had Winnie’s attention. Sitting up on her knees, Winnie watched the other’s face as she placed her hands on her cheeks in an attempt to keep her eyes glued onto hers. Winnie was notably confused as Nessa had already stated that she wasn’t interested in a threesome and yet here she was, in probably the second most dangerous space from Winnifred Ann Wickham that she could be.
>> ”I have a secret and I need to tell you. Or… you know, show you. Just think things. Thought things.”
She blinked. Normally she would have just taken the opportunity to say something rude or make a funny face, but all that required effort. Thinking, though, that was something she could do. So, without any argument, Winnie sighed, stared back into Nessa’s eyes, and thought the only thoughts she could think to thought…
It was a memory. A few months back, Winnie was supposed to head over to Nessa’s place for wine, cheese, and badly done lesbian midnight movies. However, upon reach said door, it was locked. Therefore Winnie had to make her way up, to the roof, and take the fire escape down (a measly door wasn’t going to stop her from bad acting). But, as she climbed through the open window and made her way in, she was met with a sight that she wouldn’t forget -- also the subject to this little thought experience: Booker, in all his perfection and glory, stepping out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower. He screamed. She screamed. Then she realized she had gotten the day wrong.
Oh well, it was worth it as it immediately made a comfy spot in her memory.
It was a rare side of Winnie that she was displaying here. Normally she didn’t really care about the whole, nuclear family agenda that the world tried to push onto people. She never really saw herself settling down, having the 2.5 rugrats, and staying home while her significant other skipped away to work. Really, whenever she tried to think of herself in those terms, it actually gave her the heebie-jeebies. It just wasn’t a life that she figure could sustain her interest.
But, deep down, that didn’t mean that she wanted her entire life to be meaningless. In some ways, she was actually jealous of Nessa. Though the two women tore up the dating scene, the fact was that Nessa always kept her eye out for a future partner because she wanted to settle down. She wanted a future with someone. Winnie herself rarely looked beyond a night or two and that made her a little sad. Why didn’t she think about it more?
A competent psychiatrist would tell her it’s because she lost her mom and she had some deep-seated fear of marrying, finding happiness, and then losing it. After all, you cannot mourn what you’ve never had. Without her understanding, she was protecting herself from the world, but what kind of life was that to live?
So she sniffled, she lamented in her alcohol-fueled state, and then commented on the flavor of her hiccup before she grinned. It was a giggle-worthy moment, after all. But Nessa would pull her attention back to the scene, looking down at the brunette that seemed adamant to prove to Winnie that she will find her own happiness.
>>"Nooo, don't say that! YOU'RE YOUNG! You have so many adventures! ALL the adventures! You're so amazing and if you ever decide to settle down, THE GUY OR GIRL OR MULTIPLE PEOPLE WON'T DESERVE YOU! But I hope they make you happy anyway. Because you deserve it!"
She blushed. Then tears stung the corners of her eyes. Then she actually smiled a little as abandoned her controller, allowing her character to be viciously hacked to pieces, as she reached over and picked up her glass. She took another long sip (she did die, after all) and sighed.
”Multiple partners does sound pretty wicked…” she grinned in her haze.
>> ”I was… we were talking about… I know this. Oh! Fruit basket! That was so not true. So, so not true! Plenty of people love kiwis! They’re tasty and rare. They just acquire more work, but some really awesome person will know it’s tooooootally worth it.”
She frowned a little. Nessa really was her bestest, best friend of like...ever. She seemed like she really meant everything she was saying, even if she was drunk off her ass. The fruit basket analogy was continued and Winnie looked down, for a moment offended that her friend took her idea, but smiling a little dreamily at how Nessa tried to make kiwis sound better than they actually were. Winnie even found herself a little inspired by her friend’s words as she nodded.
”Yeah! I am, aren’t I?!” her voice raised a bit. She looked around the rest of the bar who were peering at the two loud, slightly obnoxious drunk girls. Winnie, however, didn’t seemed bothered by their gazes as she spoke up. ”You hear that, you ****wads?! UNDER ALL THIS…” she gestured to her clothing, but meaning for it to come off as more metaphorical. ”...I’M TASTY AND RARE AND...AND...TOTALLY WORTH IT!!!”
A wolf whistle rang off from something in the dark, followed by some laughter. Winnie elegantly flipped off all directions of the bar, swinging her arms around wildly (to ensure she got all sides) before she relaxed back against her seat and continued to stroke Nessa’s hair. Her friend, however, seemed to be growing just a tad morose.
>>”Sides, a kiwi is way better than an awful, secrety liar.”
Winnie stared hard at her friend, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized her ever more closely. She hiccuped again but continued to stare before her cranberry scent breath flowed out from her lips, carrying only the most intelligible words. ”You...have a secret lair?”
Yeah they were fairly drunk now. An evening of trying to get the other drunk and then descending into competition had become an alcohol fueled time. Though this went against everything in Winnie’s initial plan, right now she simply didn’t care. It was what she wanted to do, what she wanted to experience, and she wanted to just have fun with it. She started all this for some reason that she couldn’t remember, but all that mattered was that right now she was having an absolute blast.
The two of them looked rather comfy on the couch. Winnie leaned back in her spot on the sofa while Nessa was sprawled out across the cushions, her head resting in the kiwi-shifter’s laps. Though it was doing poorly for the game she was playing, she sacrificed one of her hands to gently stroke the other’s woman’s hair. She looked so very comfortable and, to be honest, it felt comfortable to have her there. It was only a good thing that no mutual friends or acquaintances were there other rumors would begin to fly.
Not that Winnie cared. Anyone spread a rumor about her were quick to find her knuckle in their cheek.
When the praise began to fly, the photographer shook her head firmly. There was no way that she was going to walk away with the coveted title of being the best girl friend here. If that title belonged to anyone, it was Nessa and she was going to make damn sure that her friend knew that.
She lauded her friend, proclaimed her the jalafriendno popper of friends! There was no way that she was going to allow the other to accept less than that. However, in their inebriated state, it seemed that arguing was just going to be a thing between the two of them.
>> "No, You! YOU'RE THE HOTTEST FRIENDLEPENO POPPLER. Like... stuuuupid hot. Like, all the people in all the everywhere see you when you walk in a room. And I totally never made any moves cuz you'rejustmymostimportantfriendandthebestthingever!"
Winnie, touched by the woman’s admission (from what she could understand) shook her head. She was so touched that she wanted to cry, little caring that her character was being sliced to death by scythe-wielding maniacs. While that was maybe the most beautiful thing that was ever uttered to her, or said in the entire history of mankind (yes that includes you John f**king Fuller!), again it was a heavy crown that was not fit for her ears.
”Nooooo! I wouldn’t have let you make ANY moves!” she said, adding an overextended flourish of her arm. "But no! NO! YOU! OH my god! So hot! And nice! And awesome! You....you're gonna get married! And...and...have an apartment...with a WHITE picked fence! OH and adopt Eskimo babies! And just be...so...SO F**KING HAPPY! And... and what'll i have? Sex. I mean….looooooooooooooooooooooots of sex...but meaningless! ALL THE MEANINGLESS SEX.” She frumped. ”No one wants a kiwi…” she frowned, alcohol making her sniffle. ”T-That’s...that’s why is always the last fruit in the fruit basket! Everyone wants a juicy Ness-Orange...not a...a...fuzzy kiwi that gets caught in your teeth…” she pouted a little...then hiccuped. With narrowed eyes she smacked her lips. ”That tasted like cranberry.”
Okay, admittedly Nessa got in a good shot. Being both drunk and a little frustrated, it meant that Winnie was vulnerable to certain attacks: namely, her mutation. She was all thankful to be part of the mutant crowd, but she still felt that her abilities were fairly lame. Because of that she did tend to lash out or lose concentration whenever she had to face it. Now that she was further impeded by drunk, the words irritated her slightly more than they probably should have.
Therefore it was time to retaliate with the bigger guns.
If there was one thing she knew about Nessa, it was the pressure points that she could hit in order to make the woman falter. While a majority of them were in no way, ever proper to use, the one that she favored (and was totally fair game) it was the fairly active sex life of her brother. She knew the two had accidentally had their run-ins (nothing weird) and it was always perfect to poke at those moments.
This one in particular seemed to be a solid hit. Nessa had confided in her that she had accidentally walked in on her brother and his latest girlfriend on her couch. Winnie laughed for a good five minutes and, though Nessa wouldn’t elaborate (no matter how much Winnie prodded her) it seemed that the scene was burned into her memory. Therefore, the photographer saw no reason to not reopen that scab. Nessa needed to let it breathe, after all, or it wouldn’t heal.
>>”Gross! I’m going to have to burn that out of my head! Okay! None of this nonsense now. Rule change. Winner drinks two...and the looooooser drinks… four!”
Winnie giggled, deflecting the pillow with her free hand. However it seemed that the game was no on. New rules were set into place -- rules that she could more than agree to. After all, how else was she going to win and get what she wanted from Nessa? Wait...what did she want from her again? It didn’t matter.
”Oh, bring it 80’s-Shoulder-Pads-Without-Wearing-Shoulder-Pads!” Okay, that wasn’t her best but she would roll with it.
Oh the times they had. The rivalry between the two girls reached legendary status as they raced round after round, switched games, blew each other’s faces off, and switched to others of various genres. At some point the two of them were playing a co-op game where they intentionally tried to screw the other up but it only resulted in a loss for the both of them -- clearly not ideal. By the end of the night, their couch was the loudest and most cheerful as the ladies finally seemed to forget whatever rivalry they had and just lounged on the couch.
Nessa rested her head on Winnie’s lap while the photographer was playing a few time trials of Genebolt, a first person shooter about an underwater city and the crazed denizens who lived within it. As Winnie tried playing one handed, she sighed, firing off lightning bolts at villains, paying little attention when they leapt upon her and hit her with scythes. With her free hand (which should have been playing the game), she reached down, stroking Nessa’s hair as she giggled and began to heap praise upon her.
>>”You know, I don’t know why we don’t do more nights like this. We should do way more girls’ nights. Like… all the time...You’re like… the jalapeno popper of friends. Because you’re… you’re just so good.”
Winnie smirked, the image of herself in the shape of a jalapeno popper arose in her head and suddenly she was very glad that she could shift into a Kiwi and not a popper. Shaking that thought away, she suddenly felt embarrassed in the limelight of being the jalapeno popper of friendship and just shook her head.
”"You...you...are...SO pretty. Like, the prettiest jalapeno popper! I...i dont even fucking CARE that how hot your brother is. AndheisveryhotandiwilldoSUCHbadthingstohimatthedropofahat, BUT YOU! YOU. ARE. THE JALAFRIENDNO POPPER ULTIMATE!!"
Things were slowly starting to turn ridiculous. The absolute road-rage filled game they had been playing had quickly descended into something akin to “Driving Miss Daisy”. The two women seemed to both be trying to claim the coveted spot of 12th place, with absolutely no struggle to be the one to top the other. It seemed that both alcohol and a strange turn of events had set upon both women, causing them to struggle in order to let the other be victorious. If things weren’t suspicious before, they certainly were now.
When the both of them somehow managed to cross the finish line at the same time, the game tweaked out, unable to really process how it was possible, aside from just calling the both of them LOSERS (by display “You Lose” in colorful letters), Winnie just sighed. Things had turned an awkward corner but at least she would get to have another tasty, tasty sip of her drink. So, picking up her glass, she put the straw in her mouth and took one sip that may have been a bit too long.
A giggle and she sighed as she placed the drink back down.
It was then that their space was invaded by the lovely, curvaceous form of their favorite waitress. The young woman was certainly earning Winnie’s eye, lingering a bit longer than a waitress should, even pressing her hip against the side of the couch as she stood to watch a round or two. However, at this point she moved on, beckoned over by her winning friend, Nessa. Winnie narrowed her eyes, contemplating the number of scenarios this could entail. Nessa had a girl! How dare she try to steal her snack for later tonight! Oh she would have words with her.
>>”Excuse me, hun! I’m sorry to bother you, but my lovely friend here isn’t bringing her best to the games today. I was hoping you could help me out with something to get her in the mood for more fun.”
Winnie was too distracted by the game to hear what the two of them were saying so she instead went back to the character select screen and tried to piece together parts to supe up her racer. She settled for giant monster truck wheels that were sh*t at making sharp turns, and a tiny mushroom body that couldn’t take a hit from flower petal. Truly it was an atrocious racer but she was too enmeshed in the game.
When a new series of shots were brought to them. Winnie looked a bit confused before she shrugged her shoulders, pulled up the drink and knocked it back. It was so absolutely yummy that it was a complete shame that there was only one of them. Had she not had the self-control that she did, she would have pounced on Nessa just so that she could lap up whatever droplets may be lingering on her tongue.
No! Bad Winnie! Wait for the waitress to do that.
>>”You know, I know I’m not exactly speedrunning these things, but aren’t you a tiny bit worried about your pride, here? Maybe you’d be doing better hitting the buttons with little tiny birdy feet,”
Her eyes narrowed. Oh it was so f**king on. With a shake of her head, Winnie just grumbled. At the moment her perfectly brilliant plan to let Nessa win seemed to be running into some problems. As much as she wanted to know what was really going on in her friend’s life, her pride was taking a whoopin’ tonight. And with every sip she was losing some of her concentration, which would eventually mean that it was going to be harder for her to keep pulling her punches. And how could she keep quiet after such a flippant comment?
Giving her friend the sassiest of mean girl looks, Winnie eyed her as she hit the race button. ”Tell me, hun, when you walked in on Booker with his nurse friend, exactly how high had...heh…the tent been risen?”
So this was kind of nice. A bit weird. But also kinda nice. The last time Winnie had been carried around with this sense of safety and care, it was probably when she was a child. Not that she was making any such connections right now; her mother was not a giant, hard shelled mutant with a punch that could level buildings. Rather Winnie was more just drawing the comparisons of how safe it actually felt. Honestly she could probably fall asleep…
...if it weren’t for the looks they were getting. Winnie nestled closer into the hoodie. She could be boisterous and attention seeking, but it was better when she was in her human form. In kiwi, well, it opened far too many doors to being mocked or teased, things that Winnie usually didn’t handle well when all she could do was curse at them.
But right now, she actually felt alright. And though she didn’t want to draw attention to them, conversation certainly seemed called for.
>>"Winnie...So, you are a lady?"
Winnie snorted. ”The f**king classiest.” She giggled a bit.It was odd to see a kiwi bird giggle, probably too adorable for words, but Winnie still did it. Hoping she didn’t offend the other’s sensibilities, she went on. ”Yes. 100% lady.” Feeling it was probably better to get the obvious questions out of the way, she retorted. ”You, love? Are you a Jack Nicholsan or a Jackie Onassis?”
Conversation felt good. Already she could feel her pulse begin to slow. Maybe, before long, she would able to to revert back to human -- as least so long as there were no more surprises.
>>"Hmmm, nay'e...It's a nyu-tant nightclu', so... it'd nake sense."
Winnie had heard there were mutant nightclubs around but she had only been for a scant few. There weren’t many in California, as least as far as she knew, so hearing of them occurring in New York was certainly a surprise. She would have to attend one, some day.
When explaining her own job, Winnie admitted that she was a photographer, and further threw in that she would love to take a picture of her heroine. It was true, after all, how many people can say that they actually have a picture of the person who saved her life. A malfunctioning METAbot was no laughing matter, after all, Winnie could have very well died. She owed her life to her new found friend, the least she could do was immortalize her with a picture.
>>"Should see nee in a suit,"
Winnie snickered a bit when Jack mention that she should be seen in a suit. The young fowl just looked up at the mutant crustacean, nodding her head softly as she scrutinize her, shifting from one eye to the other. ”Oh, I bet you make a gorgeous sight, honey.”
For was obnoxious as Winnie could be whenever she won at video games, really, Nessa could be just as bad. The two of them were really like peas in a pod sometimes. If it weren’t for the fact that they had completely different parents, most would assume that the two of them were related. However that couldn’t have been further from the truth and both would vehemently state that they weren’t as bad as the other one.
Case in point, right now, with the end of their journey across the fighters of the world, Winnie was just glaring at Nessa in a quasi, grumpy way. However...it was all an act. Truth was that the brit was actually glad that her friend was winning because it was all part of her plan in order to gain some more knowledge as to her recent exploits. The young woman was hiding something from her and as soon as she got a whiff of it, the kiwi-shifter had to know. And know she would.
The drinks were flowing freely and both girls were beginning to get somewhat tipsy, but Nessa by a far greater amount. Winnie made sure to lose a few rounds of their game in hopes that that the rules they had set up were going to ensure that Nessa would spill the beans. Still, it was difficult to remember that with how aggravating her friend could be whenever she won. It was all for the cause, she had to remember that.
Their conversation, instead, shifted to another conquest that Winnie currently had in mind -- the pretty waitress that kept coming by to check on them, bringing them new drinks. Nessa, in her buzzed state, clearly prodded Winnie for information regarding her plans with her, but she shrugged it off, pretending to be sweet and innocent -- before dropping the bomb that Nessa was more than willing to join if she wanted.
Harmless flirting. That’s all it was.
>>”Oh, bull****. You act like we haven’t literally spent nights drinking and recanting your exploits...Though I think Gina would frown on me lending my friend and her waitress that much of a helping hand.”
She pouted playfully at the mention of Nessa’s reason for not partaking. It was understandable, of course. From what she's heard, Gina really sounded like the sweetest thing. Honestly she looked forward to meeting her, when Nessa felt it was safe enough to do so. Winnie wasn't the type to steal another person's lover, but even her friendly flirtations could be hard to resist. But she would see the young gargoyle… eventually.
In the meantime, she had other matters to process, such as how to get information from Nessa. As their next game started, the photographer tried to keep her head in the game. However, as the races went on, victories were strangely becoming easier and easier. It was to the point she was taking more victory spots than she should have. Things had decidedly taken an odd turn. She was just going to have to try harder to lose.
Time passed and their races eventually descending into an even weirder state. While they were usually high paced matches, these races had become something utterly not. At this point, both now “racing” very slowly next to one another and a painstaking pace. This was no longer a high -octaned race, but rather a slow, leisurely drive at which big girls were vying for twelfth place.
Winnie said nothing, though. Even with the buzz, she just tried to roll with it and hope that Nessa was far drunker than her at this point.
Winnie felt bad for enlisting the mutant’s help further but she needed to get back to her vespa. It was her baby and she couldn't fathom leaving it out in the cold. Still, if she wasn't human by the time she got there, she wasn't sure what she could do. It wasn't as if her new friend would be able to ride it. As stressful as it was, she could just activate the kill switch on it and pray that by the time she became human and could return that it wasn't stripped. New York, such a cruel place.
With help helping gargantuan in hand, Winnie was about to take the lead in the strangest and shortest parade this city would ever see, when she was scooped up. She flailed briefly but didn't fight the mutant as she was shifted between large, strong hands, and cradled against a massive, firm chest. It would have felt demeaning…if it also didn't make her feel safe. So Winnie didn't protest, she just clicked her beak awkwardly as she was carried out.
>>"You tell nee where to go,"
She nodded her small head. ”Just back where you found me. Parked my vespa around the corner in front of a tea and pastry shop, the Frodo T-Baggins.” Good what a terrible pun. She hoped that one day the store burned down just for that affront to her eyes.
As the odd duo blended into the crowd (as best they could) Winnie did her best to stay still. While most of New York pedestrians would avoid eye contact with a hulking figure in a hoodie, or would be a bit more difficult to look away when said figure was carrying a tiny fluff ball of a bird. So she shrunk down, staying quiet as she was carried to her destination.
>>"Ne'er asked your nay'n...I'n Jack."
She smiled, well as best a bird can, and replied. ”Lovely to put a name to my hero. My name’s is Winnie.” While the photographer was normally careful with giving out her name to strangers, right now she would risk it, especially since the mutant proved to be her hero.
She really hoped that Jack was as sweet as she sounded and wasn't getting her ready for dinner. Maybe that wasn't right of her to think but in this age, she wouldn't put it past anyone.
They moved onto the sidewalk and Winnie sighed. She was calming down but her pulse was still quick. The incident with the bot, the possibilities of what could have happened, the fear so coursed through her veins. But even feeling safe in Jack’s hand didn't deter her fears all together. She would calm down. She would. She would just have to keep repeating that to herself.
>>"Work sore a nightclu'...Used to work security."
With the knowledge that Jack used to work at a nightclub, the thought crossed her mind that maybe she'd meet Jack before. She loved to frequent nightclubs, but surely she would have remembered meeting someone like Jack before.
”Nightclub? Anyplace I've been?” she asked sweetly. But when Jack stated she used to work security, Winnie nodded her head understandingly. ”Well, you certainly have the presence for it.” She said lightly. However, after a second, she clarified. ”That was a compliment, honey.” She took a second before she responded in kind. "I'm a freelance photographer. Should let me take your picture one day. I bet you photograph beautifully."
Winnie was worried about her new friend. After all, the mutant went out of their way to help her and while she was brilliant at it, it seemed almost as if she had hurt herself during the process. Though the small kiwi couldn’t see anything necessarily wrong with her, that didn’t mean that she was unscatched. After all, that punch she laid out on the METAbot was unlike anything that she had ever seen before. Truly it was a masterpiece to behold. But what effect did it have on her rescuer?
Cautiously she approached, inquiring as she turned her head left and right, trying to get a good look at the mutant in hopes of understanding what she had endured. Really and truly she hoped that she was okay.
>>"N-not hurt...N-n-nore like... s-s'reaked out? Sore...N-need to get out uzz here,"
Winnie was relieved to know that her friend was okay but she had a point, they needed to get out of here. While she didn’t think it would be that big of a problem when the police arrived (it should be simple enough to explain that the METAbot went haywire and tried to hurt her when she did absolutely nothing wrong) her friend looked all together nervous. She wasn’t going to question it.
She nodded her small head, shifting from spindly leg to the other. ”Okay, honey. We’ll get out of here.”
She took a few steps back so that the lumbering mass of the mutant could stand up. The last thing she wanted to do was get trampled as the obviously weakened mutant stood up. Moving backwards, she turned her head, eyeing her again as she sighed before moving towards the alley that they ran down. She needed to get back to her vespa, if she could.
>>"D-do you want nee to, uh...Dat is, uh, would ya like any help getting 'ack to where you 'ere going?"
A sigh of relief fell from her beak as she nodded her head. ”I...I would hate to impose,” she said. ”But I left my vespa with no gas on the corner. I’m sure someone will steal it if left alone and…” she craned her neck down, awkwardly gesturing to herself. ”Until I calm down, I...going to be stuck like this.”
God, she really and truly hoped that she wouldn’t be stucki. That was the last thing she needed tonight.
Winnie grinned at Nessa’s comment about making the poor waitress burst into flames. She just waggled her eyebrows knowingly. ”Oh, there will be more than just flames, love.”
She didn’t elaborate anymore because, really, she didn’t have to. Nessa knew of Winnie’s appetites and her ability of seducing those at the drop of a hate. From the speech alone, she should be watching the waitress with every passing second but Winnie knew her game and knew that she wouldn’t have to. The seeds were planted and that was all that mattered. Sooner or later, the waitress would return and their little game could continue.
For the time being, she had another game to play.
>>”Okay, time for the Bookman Revenge Tour, Twenty-Seventeen!”
Winnie nodded. ”Bring it, *****.” While she looked ready to invest herself fully in the game, truthfully she wouldn’t be playing her hardest. Oh she would make it look pretty close but she was playing a longer game here. She wanted information from Nessa and she was going to ensure that she got it.
Oh the matches were a thing of beauty, as was Winnie’s acting. She fought well, switching only between Luri and one other character, but it seemed that the tides were turning in Nessa’s favor. As the battles commenced, steadily Winnie started to lose more battles than she was winning. She acted frustrated, grumbling, yelling at the screen for the betrayal against her assured victories. In the end she waved her hand at the screen tried to make up some nonsense about the game glitching out, even though there was clearly no glitching. But, for however irritated Winnie was looking, deep down everything was going exactly as planned.
New drinks arrived and Winnie sighed with a smile. Her eyes fell upon the waitress and the two of them quickly fell back into their patterns of sweet words and pet names. Honey, Gorgeous, Sweetie, Beautiful, the words floated between the two of them like bursts of sweet smelling candy. The smolder in the photographer’s eyes only made the waitress continue to blush but she was undeterred.
Their latest drinks offered, Winnie waved bye to her favorite waitress of the evening and turned back to Nessa who was obnoxiously cheering after her own victory. A roll of her eyes and Winnie too the loser’s sip of her shot while Nessa got to down her own.
>> ”To a beautiful choke job on your part.”
”Ah, piss off,” she said with a well-meaning glower. She noted, as Nessa moved, that she was clearly getting tipsy fast. Perfect.
Taking a second as Nessa loaded the new game, Winnie turned to her drink and took a few more sips and sighed. Her glass was looking decidedly more full than Nessa’s was. It was a shame but it afford her a chance at sobriety so that she could keep a clear head as to her real intentions for the night. Thankfully each sip was probably veering Nessa further and further away from suspicion concerning the the kiwi-shifer’s true objective. Another careful sip of her drink and she looked up when Nessa turned to her, a sly look on her face.
>> ”So what do you think? Gonna slide her your number on the check? Or will you be asking when she gets off? Followed by when her shift ends.”
The two erupted in laughter as Winnie just shook her head. She looked a bit coy as she crossed her legs and leaned back against the sofa. ”A lady doesn’t kiss and tell, sweetie,” she replied. However, after a second, she looked to the left and right before leaning in a bit to whisper to Nessa. ”But if I happen to disappear between games for a bit, don’t come looking for me.” She shrugged. ”Unless you’re planning on participating, that is.” She stuck her tongue out at Nessa before giggling and leaning back in her seat. She looked up at the driver select screen. ”Oh! Emperor Ghast is mine!!” she announced as she selected her character.
Her fear only continued to grow. Her new friend was going to get themself arrested because of Winnie. Though she knew it wasn’t actually her fault, but the fault of that stupid bucket of bolts, she still felt terrible about things. How could she do this? Just stand back and watch the large mutant throw itself into harm’s way? There had to be something that she could do but she was just a tiny bird and her fear reaction was still too fresh to allow her to shift back. Dammit! Curses filled her mind as she tried to think of something, anything that she could do.
But it was too late. While her friend tried to stay low and almost subdued, the bot stormed into the cul de sac and immediately turned eyes back onto Winnie. It seemed that this bastard had a one track mind. It shouted, announcing for her to stop running, that she was a known criminal. Frustrated beyond belief, Winnie shouted from her hiding spot that she wasn’t one but it was too late -- the bot was not going to leave without her.
It ran.
Winnie squeaked and tried to find a dark corner to nestle down in.
Then the other mutant acted.
She barely lifted her head in time to see what happened. The large, hoodie-wearing mutant jumped up, ran after the bot and lashed out with punch. Winnie’s beady eyes widened as all sound around them seemed to come to a stop. The shockwave that followed was terrible and awesome. The mutant’s large fist lashed out, striking the bot square and sending it flying across the alley. Winnie herself, momentarily caught up in the shockwave, winced as the wind flew about her, knocking her off her tiny feet and sending her sailing back into the bushes.
By the time the sound died and Winnie wasn’t confused any longer, she had to squirm and wriggle in order to get herself out of the bushes. For a second she worried that she lost her hearing but the sound of ringing slowly came in before being replaced by the sounds of the city around her. Still terrified and shaky, Winnie swept onto her two feet and straightened up her neck, turning her ping pong-sized ball to the left and right. Her black eyes falling onto the open concrete, she held her breath.
”**** me…” she whispered in a tiny voice. The METAbot looked utterly demolished. It crumbled onto the ground, pieces of it seemingly embedded in the brick wall where it hit. There was no way it could have survived that. Cautiously she started to step through the grass and back to the iron wrought fence.
It was the sound of whimper that drew her attention. At first she thought that, maybe, it was the bot. After taking a hit like that, well, even a machine had to whimper. But the machine was soundless so she turned her head until she locked her gaze onto the kneeling mutant who seemed close to sobbing. Tilting her head down, Winnie started to crawl out from between the bars, barely managing to squeeze her rotund rump through the spaces between the metal.
>>“Ow...Kiwi?”
Winnie crawled out, stepping carefully over to the much larger mutant. She had to turn her head several times, tries to get a good view of the mutant but being a dark cul de sac, there wasn’t the best light for her bird vision. But, for the most part, she had to admit that aside from the sobbing, the other looked to be in relatively good health.
She craned her neck up, trying to look at her savior. ”A-Are you okay, honey?” she asked with her soft, English accent. ”Are you hurt?”
