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.
Marisol was the furthest thing from what most people would call a “lippy kid.” As a daughter, she was usually well-behaved and followed her mother’s rules without protest. Growing up, she was given some freedom, hence the transition into performing arts school, but there were rules. Jayda always said it was her job to ensure Mari had a better life than her mother, which involved a balance of freedom and boundaries. Going to a house party at seventeen was likely a breach of those boundaries.
Speaking back was a product of alcohol-loosened lips and a panicked inexperience with being in trouble. Skye kept her close, boosting her resolve, but in this instance, Marisol quickly realized how much wiser silence would have been.
Jorge was not having her excuse making. Marisol was too busy rambling to miss his muttering, but there was no missing his definitive response. Hearing her uncle curse at her froze Marisol in place, and she felt like a baby bunny who had stupidly hopped into the den of a lion demanding attention.
Safe in the car, it was easy to forget how close she was to spending the night in police custody. The imagery evoked when Jorge mentioned a cell reminded her of how fortunate she even was to be in her current position. Her uncle was reminding her of that consequence, but he was also forcing her to face the many consequences that could have come from her night out. What if she had drank too much? What if the wrong person approached her? That last thought made her skin crawl. She wanted to say Skye was there with her, but she had learned the cost of arguing back. Beyond that, in Marisol’s field, Skye was another petite young woman, and if they were both drunk and distracted, was it out of the realm of possibility that something ended up in their drinks?
There were many ways the night could have gone wrong, and Marisol was not going to deny that. She could hear it in her uncle’s voice; other girls had been in position and were not so lucky. He pleaded for her silence, and she complied after one last, soft, ”Sorry, Tío…” She kept a hold on Skye’s hand, because she did not want her friend thinking this was her fault; Marisol made her choice to come out. She had her fun, but she had to be responsible for herself and recognize that it was on her to take her own safety into account; going out drinking with strangers with no one knowing where she was? That was a choice she would hesitate to make again.
Marisol sat, wordless, as Jorge got into the car and got their long trip home started. It was amazing how much clearer one’s mind could feel when it was preoccupied with a sense of dread. She was unsure of what she was supposed to or expected to say in such a situation, so she sat, quiet and timid, waiting for something to happen. She expected her uncle would go off on them soon enough, and she was just waiting for the stormfront to crash.
Marisol did not expect the silence to be broken by Skye chiming in to claim responsibility for the night. It was incredibly noble (and technically true) of her, but Marisol did not want her friend throwing herself on the line just to save Marisol. She tried to hastily add, ”No, no, she didn—“
>> ”I don’t want to hear it,”
The man’s tone was so firm, it stopped Marisol midword. She watched eyes in the rearview meet her, filled with frustration and disappointment. Jorge might have kept them from sitting at the station for the night, but they were not being let off scot-free. Skye’s uncle would be informed, not to mention the school itself. As for Marisol… well, talking to her mother about all this was not going to be a pleasant phone call.
There was a lingering pause before Marisol spoke up, the reserves of alcohol in her system letting stupid nervous words escape. ”Tío, plenty of teenagers go to parties. Skye was just trying to get my mind off show stress. Is that really that bad one time?” For all the fallout of how the night ended, Marisol had enjoyed her night and, creeps trying to flirt with her aside, she had felt much less stress for one night of relaxing on a porch and getting to know someone she really liked.
Of course, she quickly remembered that her stress was temporarily less, but if this party had led to her getting disciplined at school, that could have impacted her financial aid. If not for her uncle, things could have been worse. ”I won’t do it again, and thank you so much for getting us, but… this is the first time I’ve been a dumb teenager; don’t first timers get leniency?”
Marisol was out of her depth and out of her element, but she was trying to find her composure. It was harder to find a degree of emotional control when alcohol apparently tossed a spanner in the control panel to her feelings.
Making things worse, not only was trouble imminent, but Skye was feeling guilty about what happened. That was the last thing Marisol wanted! Sure, the end of the night was… not ideal, but everything leading up to it was amazing. Beer was nothing special, but beers with Skye on the patio having a heart to heart? It was the kind of night she could scarcely remember having before.
Before Marisol could speak up and reassure Skye, a shadow was cast over her thanks to the nearby street lamps. She froze, reluctantly looking up to meet her uncle’s gaze. The look was enough to make her shrink in her seat. He broke eye contact, but it was less of a sigh of relief and more a tangible reminder of his disappointment.
>> ”Off your butt. Now.”
That was certainly the kind of tone you did not disagree with. Marisol sprang to her feet and instinctively grabbed Skye’s hand to pull her along. ”Yes, Tío,” she muttered dutifully.
Following her uncle closely in silence, she kept hold of Skye’s hand like she was hanging on for dear life. Maybe she could let go and let Skye run off? Nah, at this point, she would just get in more trouble. It was probably selfish, but having Skye there was something reassuring. When the two girls shuffled into the backseat of his vehicle, there was the briefest of moments where Jorge was walking over to his own car door. In a hushed voice, Marisol leaned over toward Skye and said, ”Whatever happens, thank you for tonight, Skye. I had an amazing time with you, honest.” Maybe the choice was not the right one, but that was the past now. All she knew was her night had one amazing highlight.
Marisol was useless in their predicament because she had never been in this kind of potential trouble before and because beer had a funny way of impeding thought processes. They were not about to jump from the height of the patio to the ground, (not if Marisol wanted to keep her dancing legs in two unshattered pieces,) and the inside of the house was drained of people, so running in would just have them stopped on their way out.
Thankfully, Skye was proactive and came up with a plan to get them out of trouble. Unfortunately, her plan involved using her powers to give Marisol a chance to run. She did not like the idea of Skye using her powers on the police—that sounded like how you were treated like a threat. She also did not want Skye sacrificing herself to let Marisol escape. There was a third thing too, but what was it again?
>> "Butbut...I'm super stressed...I'm supposed to explode. Why aren't I exploding?"
Oh. Right. That. Tugging on Skye’s shirt, Marisol quietly reminded her. ”Um, Skye.” Skye protested her interruption, but Mari kept tugging on her. It’s me.”
Without a mutant distraction, the door slid open and a young male cop smirked at them. “I don’t suppose you two actually have ID on you.”
Marisol sat on the steps of the house next to Skye, her heart still racing. Was this going to get her in trouble with her school? Did they expel people for getting detained by the cops for underaged drinking? She could not be the first dancer to be in this position.
”I don’t feel great, Skye,” she admitted. She still had a buzz going, but it was no longer pleasant like it was on the patio. Concern, anxiety, and alcohol did not mix.
The young police offer walked over to the young women, looking at a notepad. “Well, it seems like you two might be lucky. Someone is coming to pick you up.”
”Really?” Marisol was confused; was this just how things went? Was this her slap on the wrist? ”Like, we’re not in trouble?”
“Well… you’re being let off with a warning.” That was good! “Detective Cervantes is on his way to get you.”
Oh. That was less good. ”And we’re sure prison isn’t an option?” she groaned. She had never been in this kind of trouble with her uncle, and at least prison could not get disappointed with her.
Marisol kept talking in situations where she would normally shut up and get awkward. Now she was just talking and getting awkward. She liked talking to Skye, and resting her head against her, she was starting to think she liked being near Skye in general.
Relationships were a topic Marisol obviously knew little of, unfortunately. Her romantic experience amounted to pining after one friend over almost eighteen years. Nothing ever made sense for Mari, but Skye seemed to actually be scared of relationships. Marisol furrowed her brow as her friend explained how she was worried she would screw up a relationship.
The idea seemed to weigh on Skye, and Marisol could not help but speak up once again. ”I mean, I’m hardly an expert on love, but I think that’s just part of the risk. I’m sure you’ll find the right person, Skye. Someone worth taking the risk for. You deserve it, being so awesome and all.” She was not teasing or joking; her tone was genuine. She thought Skye was incredible.
Marisol would have continued, but she could have sworn she spotted lights moving inside the house. Lights immediately followed by a surge of noise on the other side of the glass doors? ”Hm, what on earth is going on…” The patrons of the party were trying to run over each other to get to doors, thinning out the crowd made up of partygoers who were standing still and…
”Skye.” Marisol felt a sense of dread. ”The police are here.”
Marisol was usually uncomfortable when people hit on her because it seemed forward and unfounded in most cases. The people who wanted to flirt with her did not know who she was, so why would they make “moves” on her. Technically, when she met Skye, the mutant fit into that category, but with the benefit of hindsight, that bothered Mari less. In fact, looking back now, it was actually kind of flattering.
Apparently, Marisol was still missing some pieces in how attraction worked for people. There was no switch, and Skye still found her attractive. Really attractive, which made the whole porch feel warmer. Skye was attracted to her, but she thought that was secondary to how important their friendship was. That was reassuring; Mari was fine with Skye finding her appealing, as long as that did not stop them from being friends.
Skye scooted over closer to Marisol and the dancer did the same. They were comfortable around each other, and for Marisol, that was incredibly rare. They sat next to each other and, instinctively, Marisol rested her head on Skye’s shoulder.
>> "Though I wouldn't mind someone that could be both."
It was a fair thing to want, and Mari hoped Skye could have that. She deserved it. Someone she could have that sexual attraction to and someone she could trust. It sounded like something she did not often find, since according to her, one of the few people to meet both criteria was—
Mari felt her heart skip. Surely that was not what Skye meant. There was a sudden, inexplicable feeling in Mari’s core. The younger woman took an immediate sip of her beer. No reason to over think things. Skye was her friend and she was attracted to Mari, but she was used to more “casual” encounters. Mari was not the type of girl to fit the bill, even if she was Skye’s type. And Celeste was the only girl Mari was attracted to so far. Right?
”You will, one day. You’re awesome, Skye.” She was, and that was all that mattered tonight. Skye was an awesome friend. Marisol snuggled up closer to her friend. ”Thanks for convincing me to come out tonight, Skye.”
Yes, it was a very bold question, but alcohol had a way of making its imbiber bold. Marisol often had to be told after the fact when people were attracted to her because the whole concept felt foreign and unrelatable to her. Most of those were one-off instances, but Marisol was hanging out with Skye often enough to notice things. She was finally connecting the dots between what Skye said and the pieces she noticed, and it left her too curious not to ask and, in her typical fashion, her delivery was blunt.
The question was met with the sounds of sputtering and choking, leading to a wide-eyed and concerned Marisol. Thankfully, Skye seemed to recover fine, though she was redder for the whole experience.
Skye confirmed what Marisol noticed: she was Skye’s “type.” Was that it then? For other people, were there a few checkboxes that were checked off and flipped some kind of attraction switch? So that seemed to imply Marisol flipped Skye’s metaphorical switch, but then Skye walked it back. They were friends, which was not something she shared with the people Skye slept with. Did that mean Skye was not attracted to friends she knew well? Were they just polar opposites somehow?
Hesitantly, Skye harkened back to their first meeting on the subway. It took Marisol a moment to parse through her tipsy state to recall memories. They weren’t very clear, but she could remember feeling a degree of suspicion she felt. And then Skye admitted what she was doing way back then.
Marisol blinked several times as her brain really took that news in. She looked almost dazed as she accepted it. The out-of-it expression faded into a grin that devolved into laughter. ”So that was what you were doing?” she asked loudly, catching confused looks from guests inside who were in earshot. ”I kinda remember thinking something was up. Oh wow. You thought I was hoooot,” she teased in a lyrical, singsong voice.
Oddly proud, Marisol took another sip of her drink and relaxed. ”Well. Wow, that’s interesting. But I guess since we’re friends now, you’re just not attracted to me like that anymore? Like, is that was flips your ‘switch’ back off?”
Marisol believed some aspects of a person were ingrained in their DNA or set at birth; there were just too many things people could not change about their personalities or who they were as people. Still, Chase and Toby were a great argument for nature versus nurture. She wondered, if the two children switched lives, would Toby be the one running excitedly through the crowd?
Toby was not going to join the race, and Marisol agreed. ”Nah, let Chasey win. We’ll get there soon enough.” Marisol was not the type to make a scene in a mall; scenes were for the stage.
They did end up meeting Chase at the door and entered into the shop. There were plenty of pop-culture inspired items on display, and clothing of different styles available. She was curious to see what styles the doppelgangers might gravitate to with so many options. ”Okay kids, don’t run off where I can’t see you, but take a look at some clothes. I’ll be around for opinions, questions, or if you cause trouble. Please don’t do the last one,” she added hastily, not wanting to screw up the rare chaperoning appearance.
Marisol sat, sipping from her bottle and hanging on Skye’s every word. She explained her type with guys, which struck Marisol as unexpected; for some reason, when she asked Skye about her type, in her head, she was not thinking about guys. Reflecting on it, it was weird she did not jump to that, right? She knew Skye liked men, so of course she would have a male type. Evidently, that was just less of a concern to Mairsol for some reason.
And then came the girls. Pretty, approachable, and someone she enjoyed spending time with. Skye eschewed the idea that she was all about casual sex and Marisol blushed because part of her did make that assumption along the way. Evidently, there were different levels of attachment for sleeping with people; it was not just monogamous relationship or anonymous hookup.
Skye asked if it made sense and, while it was hard for Marisol to identify with the explanation, she did seem to understand. ”I think so. It’s just weird because I don’t have a type. Like… I’ve liked one person. In almost eighteen years. She’s special, but I’m sure she’s not the only one of her ‘type’ I’ve met, but the rest never did anything for me. I think it was because I ended up knowing her so well.” She plugged her mouth with the mouth of her bottleneck. She was talking a lot, and this was the kind of thing she had not told anyone yet. Even Celeste did not know that she was the first and only girl—or person—Mari was attracted to.
In fact, maybe the focus was too much on Mari for her liking, suddenly. She wanted to turn her attention back to Skye, because the elements that made up her “type” of girl felt oddly familiar, and her hair did turn pink a moment ago…
The small moment of silence ended when Mari finished the last sip of her beer and spoke up, her voice innocent but curious. ”Skye? If you could… would you sleep with me?”
Marisol had accepted for so long that she was not going to have many close friends. She was not a huge fan of people, so it was not a hard thing to accept. She was initially certain she could be just fine on her own, focusing on her craft. Having people in her life like Skye, who she could easily picture playing video games with and loving the new experience, she knew she was lucky to be wrong.
They were very different people, but maybe that was good for Marisol. She might have pouted at Skye’s accusation, but maybe for her age, she was a little too innocent. She was not a child; she had access to the internet and she knew what sex was and how some people had a very casual view of sex and intimacy. She had even seen the videos one would stumble upon with an internet search like that, and while she was by no means repulsed, the video also did nothing for her. Well, nothing besides leave her feeling more awkward than before she hit play.
Marisol liked that her friend was bolder and worldlier than her, like it made that world seem a little less distant by proxy. It was also fun figuring her out, particularly when it came to partners and powers. The drunk girl: too drunk and too dumb for Skye. Even if she might hook up with people, there were rules there beyond physical attractiveness. Red hair: frustration and negative “hot” feelings, backing up the claims about the drunk girl. Pink was…
The dancer could feel her tan cheeks heating with a new influx of embarrassed blood rushing. Pink, the color she earned, if briefly, encompassed attraction, fuzzy feelings, and occasionally lewd feelings. Could that be true? She tried to piece together some of their interactions, or at least the ones she could pull from a mind that was starting to fog up with beer. ”Interesting… so is there a certain type of girl you are attracted to?” As someone whose type so far was just Celeste, Marisol found the concept fascinating. Plus, she had a piece of knowledge Skye didn’t know she had: she was pink-hair certified. Maybe with a little probing, she could find out why.
Life back in California was an important time of Marisol’s life. She loved the west coast and her time studying at the school of performing arts there helped shape her and develop her as a person, actress, and dancer. That did not make her life perfect. She loved her mother, but she did not have many true friends in California, and their family was spread between Florida and New York. The east coast was not perfect, but it was comforting to have actual family to get to know. The changelings were not blood relatives, but they were still unquestionably family.
The two “Chases” were so distinctly different in their actions. Chase was confidently striding forward, leading their pack. The young shapeshifter always had that air about him; like he knew the world and was waiting for everyone to catch up. Toby, meanwhile, was still obviously apprehensive in such a public place. He stuck close to Marisol, despite her effect on his appearance. Mari would rather the boy stay further ahead since it would cause fewer people to give him leery looks, but she also did not want to send the message that he could not be himself. She let him stay close and just targeting her resting bitch face at anyone looking uncomfortably at Toby.
Toby was not a very social creature and Marisol could relate, but while the dancer was working on becoming more open and outgoing, Toby could afford to take steps in that direction. He was initially tight-lipped about his intentions, but seemed to think on it and make up his mind. For as odd as the young boy could seem, his answer was quintessentially “thirteen-year-old boy.” He wanted to look cool. She could respect that choice, even if it sounded possibly parroted. ”Great! Chasey can look cute and you can look cool. I’m excited to see.”
Chase was already focused on running a “race” ahead, which forced Marisol to call out, reminding him, ”Stay where I can see you, punk! Besides, we don’t know where everything is!” Though in truth, she could already spot the sign for Pop Subject off in the distance. She looked to Toby, who was still sticking close. ”Gonna join the brat in their racing?”
While she did not want to be a burden to her friend, it made Marisol feel warm inside when Skye confirmed that she was going to stick with her all night. It made her feel important and valued and it alleviated her fears that she would end up abandoned. The alcohol in her system was starting to loosen her up so she could feel her emotions more freely and blatantly. ”Okay, that sounds kinda nice, actually. I don’t really play video games, but I’m willing to try. You can even tease me and stuff when I suck,” she joked.
On her way back with drinks, Mari noticed Skye’s hair colors. It was such an interesting aspect of her mutation, and it was a shame her hair could not do that around Mari; it would certainly make reading the conversation easier, which was not always easy for the dancer. She noticed the red hair when dealing with the girl. What was red? That was a passionate color, right? Maybe Mari was going to keep her from something fun. Skye looked at her and flashed pink just long enough to be noticed. That was such a lovely shade, too; she wondered what it could mean? The hair settled on orange before Mari stepped to close and it returned to its base brown color. She was going to need a Skye cheat sheet.
Mari made a mental note as they settled in and started talking about the relentless suitors at the party. Then again, suitors felt like too old-fashioned a term for what modern dating meant. Was there a good word for people that hit on other people? Skye was understanding of Mari’s apprehensions, and even left the option to leave on the table, but Marisol aggressively shook her head at the idea. ”No! This is really exciting, honestly. I’m not the type of girl to do this, and I guess it’s kind of exhilarating. And I have beer, so that’ll help, right?” To illustrate her point, she took a swig of her bottle. It was getting easier to handle, like she was adjusting to the bitterness.
”So… that girl was pretty, right?” Marisol was not attracted to her, of course, but she could tell the girl was objectively conventionally attractive. ”That’s why your hair was red, right?” She smirked, leaning in and whispering, ”What does red mean? Something lewd?”
It was complicated being related to mutants; Mari wondered how much harder Gemma had it since her time with Tío Jorge and Chase was not limited to occasional visits. Chase handled it in stride, but Toby, who looked exactly like a more nervous Chase, seemed less sure about her presence.
The options for what to try on were laid out for Chase since it was his, well, their(?) day really, and the younger mutant settled on Pop Subject. Marisol immediately laughed at the answer before clapping her hand over her mouth. Okay, so Pop Subject was not her style, but that did not mean she had to judge. Chase was young and coming up with a style, so it was important Marisol was supportive and unrestrictive.
"Okay then, you two," she affirmed, clasping her hands together, "I guess Pop Subject it is, then! Though I get final say on if something is appropriate or not for you to buy." The edge was strong with Pop Subject, and there were some edgy t-shirts she did not need to explain later to her uncle.
The older cousin let the young mutants take the lead so she could keep an eye on them while allowing them a compulsory six foot lead. It was a shame their natural faces would cause such a fuss at the mall, but she was there to be considerate of the best ways to keep her cousins safe.
"So Toby, have any hopes to find something exciting to wear? Cool? Handsome? Cute?" Toby was living with her family now, so she wanted to make an effort to get to know the doppelganger and make them feel welcome. She also wanted to leave the door open that Chase and Toby might be going through the same identity questions.
It still took some mental energy for Mari to believe that people would go to a party, meet people they might not go that well, and run off to have sex with them. The whole thing sounded bananas to Mari, who had never had the urge to have sex with anyone before. Well, maybe that was not true anymore; the jury was still very much out on what kind of impulses she got around Celeste. The point was, she could not just look around the packed apartment, see someone, and think, "man, I have to get me a bite of that," (or whatever people said before going off to have sex.)
Still, the world was not just the way Mari saw it. It was like there were colors she did not see but others did plain as day. Those colors were something Skye clearly saw, and Marisol felt bad that she might be keeping the mutant in her spectrum for the night. "Well, it doesn't have to be all night. When it gets closer to the end, if you wanna, you know, find someone to sneak off with, I'll be fine. Heck, I'll probably leave a little earlier than you anyway, so don't let me spoil your fun!" She took a much larger sip of her beer.
The plan for the night sounded relaxing; take things easy and hang out somewhere less crowded. All of that sounded great to Mari. She did like the idea of dancing, but she knew party dancing was totally different from actual dancing. She would pick it up quick, but from what she had seen, it would probably be an awkward learning process.
They moved out to the porch, embracing the cool air as a reprieve from an apartment warmed by bodies. They started chatting, but they kept getting interrupted. A guy started talking to Skye, and he convinced him to leave quickly. Marisol drew in the next guy, and she accidentally offended him when she very genuinely and very bluntly asked him, "Do I actually know you or are you just some guy at the party." Finally, a girl who looked like she was having a grand old time in a crop top and a skirt came by and made it sound like she wanted to take the girls somewhere more private, which hit Mari after a few seconds. Thankfully, while the actress was blushing, her friend was sweet talking the girl into leaving them be for the moment.
And in all that time, Marisol eventually realized she had finished her first bottle of beer. Evidently, drinking more was an impulse to nervousness. It was like she had an evolutionary drive to get drunk in the face of social interactions. She ducked back in to grab new beers while Skye finished up with their female admirer.
Mari returned and handed Skye a new bottle as she advised Mari she might have to adjust to this as the norm at parties. Mari nervously chuckled in the face of that idea. "And here I thought this was just a popular porch. Okay, people are going to try to flirt with me here. I can handle that. It's just something new that I can deal with."
She took another sip, letting the bubbles fizz on her tongue. "Knowing everyone who comes up to me is probably flirting with me helps. It has been pointed out to me that I don't exactly pick up on flirting well. When I finally do, I just kinda... feel weird. I dunno. I'm just so not a 'flirt.'" Mari was slightly anxious to point that out to Skye since it was one of those things that made her different, but if she was honest, Skye had probably picked up on it by now.
