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.
Lincoln held the two ticket stubs in his hand and held them up against the light; disbelief flooded him for a moment, Maybe it was the way the couple left so disturbed, that brought the hairs on his forearm erect and alert. The number of times strangers have come up to him before, to ask him questions or merely to engage in conversation, happened more frequently than he’d like. Today he was dressed in all black; his monochrome color scheme was supposed to keep attention away, yet that already was not the case. Oftentimes, people assumed he worked at wherever place he attended; the fact he was hanging a large camera around his neck probably contributed to the assumption that he was a tourist instead of one who worked in photography.
Regardless, LIncoln had a heart to burn the two tickets in one of the candles, but curiosity also tickled the back of his neck. When else would he get a chance to get a free tour of a historic NYC location— people traveled the country for sights like these, and his impulsive schedule as a freelancer made it generally difficult for him to plan any outings for himself.
His only problem now, was the fact that he had two tickets. For him, however, that would not normally be a problem, considering he could make a gaggle of himself if he got really excited. Yet, it felt wrong to be a hoarder of the wealth that fell into his lap. Lincoln scanned the room, Eying a gentleman who seemed to be his own company, engulfed by the space.
It’s just a ticket, Lincoln. Go, give it away. Nervousness slinked around his neck and Lincoln’s palms began to sweat, at the thought of approaching a random stranger. There were very little stakes at the moment, but at the same time the tickets weighed in his hands like a strange and ancient inheritance, which he blamed the sacral atmosphere for.
”Um hey.” Lincoln walked up to the gentlemen who looked to be around his age. “I’m Linc, and I’m not trying to scam you or anything. A random couple just gave me two tickets to this tour they’re doing for the catacombs… You want the second one? No strings attached.” Lincoln held out the second of the tickets, thinking to himself don’t make this weird, don’t make this weird…
Lincoln ran his fingers along an old wooden pew, his fingerprints slathering his oils onto the aged wood. He wanted to sit, began to sit, but then thought against it, the idea of resting even a moment in the echoing chamber of St. Patrick’s Old Basilica, triggered a sort of warning within him. “Never leave.” He could feel the looming walls, with arches that slink upwards, looming like enlarged spearheads pointing to the heavens, and the stained glass casting the evening sun’s glow, encasing everything in a syrupy amber that made him want to sleep, to rest, to remain and never want to go. Lincoln couldn’t shake it off, the feeling that death, life, work, play, all of it didn’t matter here, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why.
When Linc got the call to shoot a wedding, Linc would have been excited — bride and groom photos, one of the biggest moments in a couple’s life, camping in on a treasure trove of family and in-law conversations, the raw emotions that momentous commitment draws from even the most stoic of souls — but to have a wedding in one of the oldest churches in NYC? All everyone associated with this place were the Catacombs, a graveyard turned into a tourist attraction because money and marble slabs were stacked on top of it.
Lincoln wanted to stand in peace, admiring the side altars and candles dripping with wax, but he remained restless. The wedding was still tomorrow, but he wanted to get a feel for the space, find good camera angles and survey where he could position himself for the most — and see if he needed a crew. Tourists filled the space with their not-so-hushed voices, and lines for tours began to form. To imagine this area cleared out for a wedding was wild, and though Lincoln hadn’t recognized the names, it felt an unearned privilege to be the one capturing moments for a couple who had the cash to rent out such a historic venue.
He wandered to one of the side altars, the statue of a saint draped in heavy cloth and candles arrayed at their feet, each circle flickering like eyes blinking in the hallowed space. Lincoln felt a stirring within him to take a huge breath and blow each candle out, in an act of defiance towards the grand space. But he kept his breath in, and floated alongside the perimeter. The crowd of tourists nearing the center altar began to pool, and one disparaged couple walked in his general direction, seemingly wanting to talk. In the woman’s hands was a pair of tickets.
“Sir? Would you like to take our spots for the catacombs tour? We have a family emergency to attend to, and would hate for our tickets to go to waste.” She placed her tickets in Lincoln’s hands, but before he could refuse, she clasped her hands around his and said. “Just take them. It’s ok — no pressure. You can give them away to someone else if you want.”
“Oh, um thanks…” Lincoln said, as her husband guided her by the shoulders toward the exit. Her face shaded with the pallor of having received unfortunate news. And now he had two tickets.
The echo from earlier, seeped into Linc’s ears as he shook his head to drown it out. “Never leave.”
"You shitface. Ruining our morning!" Wrath managed to land three kicks on the neon man before his focus slipped and got himself caught in that dreaded matrix-like freeze tag.
"Dammnit!" Wrath braced for what he knew was coming. Arms caught his neck and two arms, Lincoln and the other two clones caught up with the Angry Motus to help seize him. Just like that, Wrath allowed his body to go slack, as Eisen's grip on his clothes disappeared as soon as it started as well.
"Don't make me force you." Lincoln said, ready to squeeze against Wrath's neck in a choke hold.
"I'll be back idiots. And when I'm back, know that he's--" Wrath ate his words as Lincoln squeezed tightly and the two other clones nodded their approval. With Wrath soon detained, Lincoln was able to absorb him back into him, full wrathful spirit and bruised ego. He had to kneel on the ground as all of Wrath's memories seeped and merged with his as well.
Hope then knelt beside Eisen and shook his face at the man, who clutched his ribs in pain.
"Damn. You alright? Stoic, we owe this guy an icecream at the very least, and to pay for his medical bills at most." Hope remained himself, hopeful that Eisen was even conciliatory at this point.
Lincoln stood near Eisen on the ground. "Technically, Wrath acted in self-defense. We owe this guy nothing."
Ant nodded at Lincoln, though he too knelt beside Eisen. Self-defense or not, if this guy lost his good mood from earlier, who knows what could happen. It was not safe to assume that a man knocked-down would actually admit defeat.
As soon as the dude fell to the ground, so did the Anger Motus fall, from a height above Linc's waist to the concrete floor. He grunted in pain as his anger grew and grew. Linc helped him up quick, but the Anger Motus pushed his hands away as soon as he got back on his two feet.
The other two looked each other in the eyes. They both knew that look, with eyes narrowed and lip snarled, Wrath's whole body shaking with bloodlust.
"Hold your horses there pal, murder isn't on the menu today." Hope stood in front of Eisen on the ground, defensive stance, ready to face Wrath head on.
Anticipation stood beside Hope, less brazen and bold, but still of the same mind as the hopeful Motus. The sound of Eisen cackling on the ground wasn't helping his nerves any bit.
Lincoln knew best not to grab onto Wrath in this form, the worst of them save for sheer Indifference and maybe even Hate. The two of which, were not wont to surface frequently enough to test his theory.
"You two assholes better get out of my way." Wrath grunted through his clenched teeth, as if smoke could billow from the orifices on his face.
"Eisen, dude. You gotta lock him down again, so we can knock him out." Hope beckoned the neon-clad man to stand back up again before Wrath could strike.
"Too late, Wrath spun and grabbed Lincoln by the collar and swung him at the two clones, both of which sought to catch the original, before he hurtled head first into the cement, knowing he was the one going to sustain serious damage. Linc's disoriented expression, coupled with Hope and Ant crashing all headfirst into each other, led them all into a dogpile that Wrath soon leaped over to lunge straight at Eisen.
The moment Hope let down his guard, Lincoln could feel anger boiling inside his chest. This man may have been reckless, but that was not enough to bet on their numbers as an assuredness that they could put their guard down.
Just as soon as Hope made contact with the man and Lincoln wanted to reach out to pull him back, a strange sensation came about him. The only thing he could maneuver was his head as the clothes that conformed to his body became like concrete. Since they hugged his body so tight, his range of motion was limited to the point that he could not apply a force to escape from his clothes unless he risked ripping through the fabric himself.
He wasn't sure how the mutant in front of him was doing this, but Lincoln's rage began to build all the more.
"I knew it. I knew it. Look what you got us into, Hope!" Ant began to mutter his frustrations out loud as he too learned the same things Linc began to learn about their new clothing-prisons.
Hope's demeanor refused to sour. "Oh.... Oh! So the fight's not over yet. We can get out of this, guys, right? Linc? I-I, mean Stoic..." Hope's embarrassment flashed for a moment as the sudden realization that he revealed their name to a still-possible-threat loomed over him. He received Eisen's boop on the nose however, and sprung back to his hopeful reassurance that this guy may still actually be a friend.
Lincoln's rage built up even more until a new clone split off him, this time budding off from his body from the front, arms reaching out to strangle Hope.
Yet, the paralysis of their clothes seemed to envelop him just as soon as he budded off of Lincoln, such that he too was stuck in an airborne position, almost looking like a modern-statue in the way he was conjoined to the original.
“Hey that was still pretty good of us!” Hope mused, as he ran up to Linc and Ant, slinging both arms around their necks, seeming to fully believe this so called Eisen no longer posed a threat to them.”
Ant leered at Eisen, with Hope around his neck, still grasping with his hands. The shock of being unable to grab the bowstaff despite having the two of them holding onto it still baffled him. He was cautious about the true extent of this fellow mutant’s ability, but kept his mouth shut.
Lincoln, recognizing like Hope, that this man seemed to truly be withdrawing for the moment, spoke up for all three.
“You seem just as inexperienced.” He said, arms crossed and a little annoyed by Hope’s eagerness.
“To leap into a fight like that, not knowing who you were up against. Reckless. Reminds me of the kids who start off at the dojo and want to show off their skills to whoever’s there to watch.”
Hope squeezed Linc and Ant’s neck a little before and letting them both go and stepping forward to offer a handshake to Eisen.
“Well since we’re all new. I’m Linc’s clone, that guy over there, and we were hoping, yes, to prepare for a fight. Should we ever run into one.”
Linc and Ant grabbed onto the staff and intended to yank it from his grasp with their combined strength, but found themselves unable to do so. As they struggled, Linc winked to Ant and let go stepping in close and aiming a kick at the man’s hands.
Hope, on the other end, allowed his low kick to miss as he then leaped back, not wanting to be hit by an aerial counterstrike. The neon dude then seemed to hang suspended in the air for a moment, as if time itself had stopped, before he resumed a steady range of motion.
Ant held on to the bowstaff- even if he should falter, at least there would be one in the way of the man’s weapon.
Linc anticipated a strike, and as soon as the neon dude aimed in his direction, his body rippled and two extra pairs of hands stepped forward to grab the end of the bowstaff. Unless this man had super strength, this would provide enough opportunity for Hope on the other end to further destabilize the man.
His Anticipation Motus stood beside Lincoln, their bodies pressing against each other, heartbeats asynchronized. Ant’s faster than the original, but both sharing the same intention at the moment to contain the man and watch out for any tricks.
Hope cheered out loud on the other side and rushed in to throw a kick at the neon dude, aiming for his legs.
Hope stopped returning blows to point at the silly looking adult descending like a villain in a poorly funded indie film.
Linc spun around and held his hands up and adjusted to a more defensive stance, more wary than Hope was at the moment.
Anticipation stirred in his chest, his bangles turning a pigeon-purple.
The person came upon them with intensity but seemingly little malice. He brought his bowstaff down between the two and set them on either side of him.
Hope looked to Linc, and his bangles glowed a brighter yellow.
“Come to spar?” Hope said, as he took a step back to gauge the new kid’s appearance and range.
The kid wasn’t actually a kid, for the prominence of his jaw and styled messiness of his curly, ginger hair seemed to possess a certain maturity of one in their twenties.
The skate park glistened with puddles in the freshly ended rain. Lincoln stood in his muddy black Pumas, and grey tracksuit. He strapped on his mood-reading bangles, both a way to protect his wrists and a way to check the intensity of his emotions. Grey was its default color, and as it oscillated to another color of the spectrum, Linc could focus on channeling that emotion or allowing it to subside.
“Just like we rehearsed, gentle me’s.” Linc took deep breaths and focused on his most amiable emotion. His bangles began to shift to a bright yellow, as he thought of this exercise actually working, imagining all his clones cooperating for once.
He held an even fighting stance and prepared to give a gleeful karate chop. His whole body shivered and the feeling of his very cells replicating flooded his whole system, until a mirror replica of his black Pumas and tracksuit popped off him like a bubble blown with a hint of joy.
“This may work!” The Hopeful Motus faced Linc with a smile, and bowed in respect to the original.
“You and I first, Hope.” Linc threw a punch and Hop blocked, then threw a counter-kick, causing Linc to back away. Linc’s bangle, which was grey at the moment, then turned into a soft red before returning to grey.
“Maybe try again?” The Hopeful Motus threw another kick at Linc, who dodged and threw a flurry of punches. It was difficult to get mad at a clone of himself that was so encouraging.
“Hm. We can keep trying, Stoic.” Hope said, throwing a roundhouse kick that almost hit Linc in the nose. The two continued to spar.
Tim's open ears and closed eyed shuddered in defeat.
“It’s not a hostage situation if security is detaining you for stealing jewelry,”
The woman's response sent Tim down to his knees again. . “It serves you right. Now leave me alone. I’m sure the cops have already been called on you.”
With that, Tim was left still paralyzed in his fear. He planted himself against the water fountains, with Stoic's broken phone. He curled into a ball and waited, having failed his mission and not wanting to even think of what was happening to Stoic, Rey and Ant.
--- Lincoln arrived to see Rey pointing at the security room and him just standing there, idle like a diva awaiting her posse.
"I've had enough." Lincoln stepped up to Rey and pressed his arm against the Pride Motus' chest, pinning him against the wall. His eyes glared at Linc, but Lincoln knew he'd be too prideful to even lay a finger on him.
In a moment, the Amulet was off Rey's neck and onto Linc. The emotional energy seeped from the Motus into him, the original, and soon the two were reunited. All of Rey's memories then merged with Linc's consciousness as he held on against the wall for a moment and sifted through everything Rey remembered.
"Two cops. Another Amulet. Unconscious."
Linc stepped up to the guard station and knocked, then yanked the Amulet off his neck. After reabsorbing Rey, Lincoln was no longer able to feel Pride as strongly, and used this to detach from the Amulet's power. As soon as a guard opened the door, he held it up to his tired-looking face.
"You sir are not allowed in here."
"I'm returning what isn't mine. I found this on the ground of another exhibit and have not left the premises with it."
The two cops stared at Lincoln then at the unconscious clone on the ground, which they had strip searched and left with his clothes all awry.
He wasted no time and lunged forward to touch his clone by the leg and Ant reabsorbed into him. For a moment he knelt, disoriented, but better.
"Son, you cannot just barge in here. Excuse me this is against protocol!" The two reached forward to grab Lincoln by the arm but he leaped back and tossed the Amulet to them instead.
"I've done nothing wrong officers. Just having a rough day. You were the one who placed another one of these amulets on my clone. I remember everything. And though it's my word against yours, you know as well as I do security footage doesn't lie."
The two officers leered at each other, both weighing their options. The silence in the air would have been enough to terrify Linc, but he was already drained of both Fear and Anticipation. They nodded in unison and agreed to let Lincoln go.
"Thank you."
He escaped out the guard room, with the guards still in there, and placed all three burner phones back into his camera bag. One more Motus to reattach to himself and he could get the hell out of here. No more museums.
"Please, help me." Lincoln stood up after the woman. He hesitated to call out to her again, but the minutes seemed to slow into hours. His Motus had just been knocked out, and in broad daylight as well. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he fought the urge to panic, afraid to feel a surge of Pride. Afraid to learn Rey had fallen too.
"I have reason to believe I'm being targeted. I just got a text from my friend that he was stopped by a security guard in the Egypt exhibit and..." Lincoln began to panic. Anxiety rippled all through his chest, as he realized his words would fail to convince this person otherwise.
What was he going to say? He had clones and they just got knocked out? He picked up a crazy amulet that latched itself onto him like a parasite and is now with another clone of his? That he isn't crazy and that she had to trust his half-story? Lincoln almost felt compelled to tell her the truth and all of it.
He could not go into this without back-up. And if the truth was enough to get her to hand him her phone for just a few seconds to grab the contact he needed, then to hell with it all. All the sheer what-if's trembled inside Lincoln. He still had to go save Ant, and he was the only one who could do so.
Fear finally overtook him and a fissure-like wobble permeated his body causing it to split one more time.
"Tim, explain to her. I'm going in." Linc handed his Fear Motus his broken phone and kept the burner for himself as he sped down the corridor. He would have to find Ant himself and absorb him back before anything worse could happen to his comatose body.
---
Tim, short for Timid,
"Ok. You may not believe me, but look. I'm a mutant. I can make clones. I need help. I have reason to believe I'm being targeted for some reason, and one of my clones just got knocked unconscious in BROAD DAYLIGHT. My main guy is going over to Egypt now to help." Words cascaded out of the Fear Motus' mouth, as he followed the plan Stoic set of spilling the truth. He even closed his eyes, terrified of watching the woman's reactions to his insane little story, his flurried thoughts expediting his speech.
"We can't -- I can't go into this situation without back-up. Please. If you won't call 9-11 for me, at least allow me to call and explain. There may be a hostage situation. You see, I picked up this amulet earlier and it's hexed or something. I don't know. We don't know. And things just got super complicated. I was going to call a local friend for backup but at this rate, I don't know how much time I have. We have." Tim took a series of short, rapid breaths as he caught up after his words. His eyes were closed and the woman could have walked away at any point in the telling of his story. But at least he did it. He told her the truth.
---
"Stoic is sure taking his sweet time." Rey snarled under his breath as the two guards dragged Ant's lifeless body into a surveillance room. Probably for safe-keeping until a mortician arrived to determine the cause of death.
There was little the Pride Motus could do nor wanted to do, so he waited. Debated whether he should even text Stoic about where they were taking their friend. Instead he stalled at the corridor of the Egypt exhibit, his eyes rolling deeply at the sticky situation they found themselves in.
"Would suck to be Stoic, right about now." He waited until the man, his original self, gallivanted through the halls with an expression as bland as beige on beige.
Upon making eye-contact, Rey pointed to the surveillance room. Half-engaged.
The officer's eyes gleamed, his irises swelling in size akin to the Black Massionite itself. Though nothing else about his countenance changed, not even the subtleness of a smirk.
"The insect exhibit is right past this adjacent one on Egypt. You can't miss the looming, man-sized Praying Mantis sculpture." He gestured with a gloved hand, and returned to scanning the crowd with his five-oclock shadow and bags under his eyes.
Rey noticed the flies disappeared as soon as he spoke to the guard, and he took this as a sign he asked the guard the right question.
"Thanks." Without his insect entourage, Rey stifled a soft sigh, then continued to strut as if he had on a heavy cape to accentuate his Pride. He glanced to his left and his right, keeping his eye out for a certain individual who could be their bug whisperer.
---
Ant darted his gaze to the floors, the exhibits, to people's pockets, purses, necklines. He crossed his arms, a feeling akin to anxiety and fear, but guided by curiosity tickled his shoulders and behind his ears.
"It could be anything." He whispered to himself, holding his burner phone open, thumbs at the ready to text Stoic any detail that caught his eye. A maniacally laughing couple. A golden chain dangling from someone's pocket. Even any kind of jewelry that gave a similar vibe as the Amulet.
A movement to his left caught his eye, and as he stood beside a sarcophagus, a police officer with bags under his eyes made a beeline toward him. Not pacing too fast, but with a gait displaying he desired to speak to him.
Ant began to draft a text to Stoic, but once he pulled the phone to his face, the guard spoke out.
"You. You dropped something." The guard leered at him with an amulet in hand, his eyes as dark as the Black Massionite dangling from the golden chain.
Ant's heart began to race, as he pulled up his phone and texted quick. "[Guard. Egypt.]" As soon as he clicked send, the guard's black dress-shoes pulled up in front of him. Upon looking up, the officer graced Ant's neck with the weight of the amulet.
A sudden surge of Pride swelled up within Ant, so much so that it overwhelmed his chest and pushed out almost every ounce of Anticipation inside him. The lights around him grew intense before darkness invaded his mind and Ant slumped to the ground, unconscious.
--- “Ah, sorry,” The woman said with a polite smile. “I don’t have a charger on me. Didn’t have room in my purse,”
Linc's heart almost began to sank, but he clenched his fists and nodded in apology. "I simply need to check my contacts. May I borrow your phone to login to my account? All I need is one person's number. That's all."
Linc held up his burner phone to her, a flip phone with very limited capabilities. As soon as he did, however, Ant's text lit up on the screen. "[Guard. Egypt.]"
"Strange." He diverted his attention away from the woman for a moment, trying to figure out what this could mean. Just then, a resurgence of Anticipation flooded his head and slinked down his back and to the pit of his stomach.
"Ant!" He yelled out at the phone, and he shuddered as he fell to his knees as the emotion disappeared as soon as it returned to him. He looked up at the female, as a surge of sadness began to well into his eyes, which he did his best to recoil.
"Miss. Where's the Egypt exhibit? Do you know?" Linc's voice quivered, hands drooping at his sides.
--- Rey circled the Preying Mantis statue once before his curiosity got the best of him and he turned back to the Egypt exhibit to glance at the peculiar guard who didn't wink an eyelash at his new, gemmed companion.
His eyebrows perked up upon seeing his splitting image, Stoic he presumed, standing as the security guard made his way towards him. Rey felt a buzz notification in his pocket, but decided not to look, as he witnessed the guard put his hands around the other Motus before he slumped to the ground. A glimmer of gold around his neck, all too familiar. The immediate unconscious rendering, also a familiar sight.
"Backup? Stoic's backup already failed. Hm. They had only one job and they couldn't even accomplish that." Rey clenched the phone in his pocket tightly and looked at the group message sent to all the phones.
"[Guard. Egypt.]"
The security guard immediately called for back up, as he snuck the amulet off of the unconscious Motus's neck and tried to stand him up. To no avail.
"Our bug whisperer? Or our unconscious Motus. I'm sure Stoic would want me to help, but he ought be on his way here soon. No need for my intervention, just yet, if at all. Hmmph." Rey pouted his lip and leaned against the praying mantis statue.
Another guard came to assist the one holding the unconscious Motus, trying to hush the crowd that began to form. Rey pulled off his hoodie and tied it around his neckline, watching as the two guards wrapped the arms of the immobile body around their necks and walked away, not even caring to perform CPR.
"Hm. They should be quite aware that he has no pulse. Either incompetent or up to something." The Amulet around Rey's neck gleamed, and he felt his body drawn towards the direction of the guard that had seemingly knocked his fellow Motus unconscious with a similar amulet.
"There could be only one, anyway." Rey maintained his distance but kept the two guards in sight as he trusted the Amulet's sudden pull to lead him forward.
Pride, aka Rey, strutted out of the bathroom with the merry little band of flies dancing on his left hand. He gave a small giggle, watching them do their little shuffle to form a compass of sorts. Then he disappeared, to follow their direction.
Linc brought a finger to his mouth and stared at his reflection in the mirror. With the amulet gone, it was as if he could think clearly again. He grasped at his neck as if the amulet had been there and looked at his cracked phone in his hand.
"That amulet must have been planted." He spoke to himself, and a sudden surge of tension built up in his lower neck and upper back. The scuffle of shoes in the busy room. No one else noticing him pick it up. His fixation on the gemstone as if it were the greatest item in the world. A shiver ran down his spine and all the way down to his toes, a new emotion, Anticipation. He pictured himself scouring the rest of the exhibits, Neanderthals, Open Ocean, Fossils, to see if any more of these amulets could be identified.
Shivers ran through his body one more time and he split.
The new Motus, grabbed Linc by the arm and locked eyes with him knowingly.
Linc handed his new Motus another burner phone, leaving the last one for him to use. "If you see another one-"
"I'll text you the exhibit. Then move on to the next." He slipped the burner into his pocket and nodded with apprehension before heading toward the exit.
"Avoid looking at the gemstone, Ant." Linc called out, and his Anticipation Motus gave a quick affirmative glance before disappearing.
Lincoln then pulled his cracked phone to his face and tried to turn it on. The screen flashed- a red depleted battery icon flickered. "Shit. How am I gonna call Cass, now?" He tried again, to no avail. He typed in as many numbers of her number as he could remember, but his dependancy of keeping contacts in his phone memory and not his head failed to support him. He scrolled through the burner and the only other numbers were the other burner phones.
Linc breathed deeply, to keep a level head. He exited the bathroom and made his way past the water fountains before he caught sight of a woman scrolling through the same electronic device he held in his hand. She had beautiful blonde hair and seemed engrossed in her handheld cybernetic attachment.
"Excuse me miss. You don't happen to have a charger, do you?" He showed her his cracked phone screen, of which was the same brand. "I need to call someone real quick. My battery died."
---
On the other end of the Museum, Rey strutted about the exhibits with his nose in the air, as if he had an escort of the finest imported servants. He spotted the security guard right away, but kept his pace steady. The amulet glowed with reassurance.
"Officer? Could you direct me to the exhibit with all the bugs?" He spoke with the amulet slinked around his neck dangling in plain sight. The thought of being separated from the charmed object tickled him, but brought little perturbance to his haughty demeanor.
As Linc clasped tighter to the amulet in his pocket, the temptation to glance at it again crawled up his arm and to his temple like a slithering viper. He couldn't resist.
The golden chain almost embedded itself into the skin of his fingers as the Black Moissanite shone even brighter now by the light above the mirror. For the first time, too, Linc saw himself and the amulet in the same picture. An image flashed of him placing the amulet around his neck and flaunting it around for all to behold. Its grasp, alluring to every portion of him.
Again, the insects broke Lincoln's trance as they formed a shifty arrow on the mirror, interrupting his intimate moment with the amulet. His reason settled in briefly, and turned to gaze toward the bathroom's entrance. Their insect charmer must have been close, unless he was about to be led through various corridors to a trap of some sort.
A surge of self-confidence brought Lincoln's hand to his chin and emotions surged up into his chest. He was "Stoic" and he had many, quite potentially his own army on his side. Had his girlfriend seen him now, she would probably slap him across the face for being so prideful. That image as well, caused more Pride to swell into his chest until the mitotic-like action ripped Lincoln apart again.
This time, the new Motus grasped the Amulet out of Lincoln's hand and wrapped the gold around his neck.
"That doesn't belong to us, Pride." Linc reached for the amulet, but his Motus put up a finger at him.
"I thought we agreed that you refer to me as Rey." Pride took a stance in front of the mirror beside Lincoln and caressed the jeweled accessory as it dangled snugly from his stately, poised neck. His eyebrows lowered and he subtly licked his lips in satisfaction.
"You may be Stoic, but I'm Rey. We didn't train with our partner just to dismiss everything she taught us, correct?"
"You and I both know you are one to not--"
"No emotion is forbidden. Might I remind you, Stoic? Now, I know you were planning on hatching a crafty plan to avoid this bug whisperer, but why hide? See to it that you provide me back-up. I will apprehend our nosy little compatriot." Pride reached forward to the mirror and pointed towards the insects, allowing a few of them to crawl upon his hand, should they feel inclined.
"Wonderful, obedient little ones. Aren't they? You've done a wonderful job subjecting these creatures to your whim." Pride knew the bug whisperer was listening and flattery flowed from his lips.
Lincoln held his breath and clutched his camera bag to himself. His eyes focused on the seemingly familiar aura of the Amulet and his Motus' speech and thought patterns. Familiarity and quaintness sent tickles across Lincoln's temple. The amulet gleamed like Pride's lucid smile. He gave Pride a small nod, allowing silence to sheath his intentions for now.
Linc then slipped one of his burner phones onto the counter in front of Pride, which the Motus took and slipped into his own pocket.
"Come." Pride spoke to the insects and indirectly to Lincoln, as he walked to the door and held it open for the insects to lead the way.
Lincoln took inventory of the two other burner phones he had on him in addition to his broken Android device. If he hadn't heeded his girlfriend's warning to keep a couple extra in his camera bag, he didn't know where he'd be right now had a circumstance appeared which would potentially cause him to split.
