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.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Feb 18, 2012 20:14:42 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
"I've got a brother," Locke started, not sure if Chase remembered being told about that before. That had been back on Halloween and since then there had been one of the most popular holidays for small kids. "He doesn't like cooking, but he likes what happens when someone does it." It was just polite conversation while Chase refueled. Brother instincts took hold of Locke, and he got out the milk to pour a glass for the kid. "My sister Mai likes to cook though. Her favorite is breakfast."
Milk does a body good, and Chase had already told him that there was no food allergies. The grilled cheese was probably too hot to devour without something to drink, and milk was better for a growing boy than soda or sugary drinks. "Here you go," he said, setting the glass down in front of Chase.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Feb 15, 2012 17:59:43 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Chase's response to algebra wasn't that far off from what Locke's first reaction was. If math was meant to have letters in it the Roman Empire wouldn't have failed. "Yeah, but don't worry, that's years away, middle school at the earliest. And you said you were good at math, it will be a breeze for ya." He meant it as well. Unless you enjoyed a subject you weren't going to do well in it at school. Maybe you would get decent grades, but the knowledge would mean absolutely nothing. Locke knew the formula for finding out the area of a circle, but it had no value to him. Chase liked the subject, so maybe algebra wouldn't be too hard for the kid.
By now the sandwich was most likely finished cooking to Chase's specifications. The teen paused, deciding that Chase wasn't likely to play around with the hot frying pan, before getting down a small plate. "You're sandwich is probably done," Locke informed Chase, setting the plate down where the kid could put his sandwich. As he expected Chase was careful around the frying pan. Once the sandwich was off the burner Locke put the fudge back on, just to make sure that it did not turn solid on them.
"Chase Kid Death you have just made your first grilled cheese," joked the teen, using his best Home Sweepstakes announcer voice, "What are you going to do next?"
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Feb 9, 2012 13:36:48 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
The teen smiled. Several kids didn't like to be called on in class, and Locke understood why. Having a brain that actually worked wasn't a good thing with your peers. Nobody wants to be a brain. "I've got problems with my math. It got too hard for me once the numbers starting hiding as letters. I can tell you a trick though. Anything times ten is going to be that number with a zero after it, like two times ten is two zero. Ten times eleven is going to be eleven zero." It was about the only trick that Locke knew for multiples in numbers past twelve. Math was just going to be one of those subjects that Locke would always have issues with. His mind functioned based upon logic, but math made no sense.
History and English he could do though. Locke enjoyed writing, so essays held no fear to him, and reading wasn't bad either. As far as history went, well, his father was to blame for that. He had read Locke Don Quixote, and when Locke protested the point in which the story repeated itself, Hugo explained how important history was. "You know, your hardest classes are my favorites. Funny huh? If you need it, I could help you."
Just as Locke knew how dumb it was to answer a question in class, he knew how having someone who actually understood a subject help out with homework was. At first he had depended upon his dad to get him through math. Now he relied on Eaan's help to get a slightly better grade on his homework. Chase's history class was probably not that complicated compared to Locke's, so the teen was confident that he could help the boy out.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Feb 2, 2012 21:17:22 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Smack! Locke’s hand connected solidly with his forehead. Fingerprints! Why hadn’t he thought of that before grabbing onto the pictures. The glossy ones had fingerprints on them, possibly the person who had sent them, but Locke’s fingerprints were all over them, along with Ms. Taylor’s, Jorge’s, and whoever had ever held them even for a moment. On a few of them there probably was even his father’s, given that Hugo’s handwriting said where “Bug” was. ”I shouldn’t have handled them huh?” How stupid could he be? He watched horror movies where detectives searched for a killer, he knew about incriminating evidence like fingerprints, saliva samples, a stray hair. As much as people tried to convince him that his stalker wasn’t going to kill him, it was something that required police involvement. Why hadn’t he thought about fingerprints? ”Take them,” Locke said, still amazed at how stupid he was for not thinking about contaminating evidence, ”There’s only two or three I want to keep.”
Although Locke was the focus of most of the pictures, there were a few where he was just one face in the crowd. Even more important than that to Locke was the few pictures in which his dad was present. None of them went past the age of five, which didn’t surprise him. He knew how many Hugo had taken. In a family of two there aren’t that many options on who can snap a shot, especially when one is at the age of breaking everything that costs more than five dollars. The very first picture he got, the one where his dad was trying, and failing to get him to look at the camera was one that was put into the pile. There hadn’t been much time with his father since the first six years of his life were fuzzy, which left five years. Seeing his dad look so young made Locke feel better about what had happened.
Also comforting was that Jorge was willing to talk to Kendra. He probably had to deal with parents all the time, some that could care a whole bunch less for their kids than Kendra did. The detective had to be able to handle overprotective parents. Locke tucked the card into his wallet. There never was any money in it. Locke really used it only as a portable file cabinet of sorts. Family pictures were in there, along with receipts from Taco Bell to redeem for a free taco. ”I’ll keep that in mind,” Locke said, studying the number, “But let me break it to her first ok? If you call she might think that I’m dead already.”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Feb 2, 2012 20:16:00 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Locke had to admit that there weren’t that many kids Chase’s age running around the school. He wondered who even was teaching the little ones. It wasn’t as though they needed to know about physics or alliteration at this point. Teaching someone like Chase had to be easier, not only because Chase was incredibly polite, but because they are young enough to not feel like they know everything. At the same time the risk of being punished held more weight when you’re young. Parents and teachers are more frightening, and you actually care about the principal of the school. By the time he was in middle school Locke didn’t even remember the name of the principal. If you did not teach one of his classes, you didn’t exist.
”Small classes can be good,” Locke told Chase. The grilled cheese sandwich was sizzling, sounding as delicious as it was sure to be. Grilled cheese was one of the two classic sandwiches for a childhood and one of the guaranteed to eat baby sitting dishes. ”You can flip it now if you want. Anyways, I had big classes when I was your age. Thirty something kids, and when I knew the right answer the teacher never called on me. It was only when I didn’t know something that they noticed me.”
Big classes had big problems. Teachers, from Locke’s experience, were worn too thin. As a result of this all students start to blend together. Things got even worse if your teachers had multiple class periods throughout the day. There was always a point in the day where they just didn’t care anymore. The most unfortunate experience Locke had with that was when he had math for his final class of the day. His teacher no longer wanted her students to learn anything, and could not understand his simple request that she explain a term in simpler words. Unfortunately the rest of the year’s work hinged upon understanding that one concept. On the plus side he got a slightly better grade simply because he didn’t talk in class. ”Any subjects hard for you?”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jan 31, 2012 22:40:18 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Normally Locke stayed away from anything to do with Valentine's Day. He was awkward enough with girls the other three hundred and sixty four days of the year. Locke did not need the added romantic pressure put on him by a holiday that had its history up in the air. Candy was given to his family, and he laughed at the sight of Eaan dressed as Cupid, but love wasn’t really a part of his plans. Still, Locke showed up at the auction, even though he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea.
He had dodged a bullet with the auction, nobody had signed him up for it. If anyone had tried Locke probably would have buried them up to their neck in the dirt. No force on earth would be able to get him up on that stage where he’d be viewed like a cow being sold off. Instead he had come because a friend was being auctioned off. Gina had, for some reason, decided to sign herself up.
Locke smiled and watched his friend go off to talk with a snake man. Somehow it would be easier to make his bid if she didn’t see him do so. It didn’t matter to him if he won the date or not, it wasn’t as though he could go out for awhile. Gina was a friend, and she should have a few bids. With thirty dollars as his limit Locke scribbled down his first bid. Ten dollars.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jan 29, 2012 17:53:41 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
”That’s right,” Locke praised Chase. For a kid that had never done any cooking before Chase caught on pretty quickly. This sandwich was really going to be made by just by Chase. He was prepping the ingredients, following the recipe, and was armed with the spatula to flip it over. Having Chase make something at least slightly healthy to eat made Locke feel better about having so much sugar and candy about. ”Do you like your grilled cheese burnt black or golden yellow?”
The fudge was slowly cooling now, and Locke didn’t want it to solidify inside the pot. He hadn’t buttered it before hand and didn’t think that the fudge would come out easily. Even if it did that would be a massive hunk of chocolate, more like a solid cake than a tender treat. With a fudge cake any student could go on a massive sugar rush. Images of the younger students, bent over in half with a sour stomach and chocolate covered face, flooded Locke’s mind. He grabbed his spoon quickly and stirred the fudge. How long until it set up? The recipe hadn’t mentioned anything like that.
When Locke was Chase’s age his school sometimes had grilled cheese sandwiches in the cafeteria. At first there was always a bowl of tomato soup that went with it. Since Locke hated cold, the days that the soup and sandwich were offered were his second favorite, with the first being tacos. ”How’s school going?” Locke asked Chase. On Halloween school had been the furthest thing from Locke’s mind, even though it fell on a school night. Halloween was for being scarred and getting candy. He really did want to know how things were going for the kid.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jan 27, 2012 22:05:25 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Watching the food network had given Locke knowledge about some cheeses. Nothing extravagant. He couldn’t identify any with his eyes closed other than his favorite, pepper jack, taco, and Velveeta. The teen didn’t even know what countries were suppose to be the best ones to get cheese from, though he thought it might be Denmark. In his mind he could see that yellow and white cheese that Chase described. Grocery stores sold it in blocks didn’t they? There was sharp and extra sharp cheeses, and Chase’s was one of them. ”Do you think the different colors taste different? Like the white bits taste like one kind of cheese and the yellow another one?” Locke asked, keeping the conversation light.
Yellow Submarine ended, and May by James Durbin started. A beautiful song, and one that didn’t so much tug at his heartstrings as pulled with all its might. ”Skip to next song,” Locke spoke into his laptop and the song halted, jumping ahead to Aqua’s Barbie Girl. Although the song had some suggestive lyrics, Locke felt that it was safe for Chase to hear it. He probably wouldn’t even think of anything other than the plastic toy. That and the song was so stupid and annoying that it was catchy and he just didn’t have the will power to skip to something else.
Locke twisted the frying pan so that he could hold onto the handle and be able to pull it safely away from Chase in case of accident. ”First slice of bread goes in butter side down. Unless there’s something between the pan and bread it’ll burn. The butter is what makes it that golden color.” Locke explained, putting the bread on the pan for Chase, ”Then comes your cheese. Then on top of that, the last piece of bread. This time, butter side up. Know why?”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jan 26, 2012 23:33:24 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
"You know, telling me not to panic kinda is making me want to," Locke tried to joke. He learned not to tell Mai not to cry when tears threatened, those words always shoved her over the edge. Jorge had a point though, a few of them actually. Panicking often felt, not good, but right at the time, simply because you have no choice but to do so. In the end it complicated things far more than necessary, leaving you in worse condition than before. The police were involved now. While he had not had any interaction with the boys in blue here in New York, their method of handling a stalker had to be better than Locke's shoving the pictures into his dictionary. They would be acknowledging the situation.
And he really needed to talk to Kendra, just to make sure everyone was ok. There hadn't been any other pictures with his brother and sister besides the ones in the pile. Some of the pictures had others in it, but the focus had been Locke in them, the one consistent thing. Only the pictures of him when he was very young had any family member, and Hugo was not in danger.
"I'll bring it up next Skype session," Locke promised the detective. Without a cellphone Locke had to rely on his laptop to talk with his family. His laptop was his link to everything important to him, it was what kept the darkness from capturing him at night. "The second that she hears you're a detective she's going to drag me out of here. Forget stalker, she'd be the biggest threat." Locke blanched. It came out wrong. "Not to me. To anyone who tries to get in her way. She's kind of over-protective."
And for good reason. It can't be easy handling your dead ex's child along with your own. They had been trying for the last six years, and things were getting easier now. Going back to San Francisco would be a step back for the two. "Uh, I noticed something with the um, pictures," Locke said, trying to get back to the stalker issue. He pulled out the first of the new pictures, the one from the year with the walking trees, and one of the pictures from his childhood. "There's this gap of like, almost ten years with nothing, like I didn't exist then."
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jan 26, 2012 22:41:38 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
As Chase buttered the bread Locke grabbed the smallest possible frying pan. Sometimes the butter spit up hot grease as you grilled a sandwich. A smaller frying pan would help to keep that from happening to the kid, since the bread would be taking up most of the heating space. Also the more space the sandwich took up in the pan, the less room there was for a little hand to slip in and burn fingers. Safety was a big issue when it came to cooking, and Locke was trying to get Chase to like cooking.
"Are you a one slice or a two slice of cheese guy?" Locke asked once he had set the frying pan down on the stove top. There usually was a few different types of sliced deli cheese in the fridge. Swiss, pepperjack, and of course the humble American. Well, Swiss cheese had holes in it, so there was less cheese in the sandwich, and pepperjack had a kick to it. American it was. Chase informed Locke that he was a one slice person. "I'm a two slice guy myself. Pepperjack usually, maybe sprinkle some garlic salt on the bread. When you get to be my age, anything tastes good."
He turned the heat on the burner under the small frying pan and grabbed a spatula for Chase. "Ok, I want you to hold this with both hands when you're near the frying pan alright? I'll hold the pan, but you're going to do the flipping."
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jan 25, 2012 19:16:13 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
"It's alright," Locke said. His dead father wasn't the issue here. It was only mentioned because Jorge needed to know about any family that Locke might have. When you think about it, it made sense to want to know about any relatives that might have this deranged fascination. Who else but a family member would have this many pictures spanning his life? Ms. Taylor had suggested the possibility of someone breaking into his house at one point. While he did have a very vague impression of a police officer talking to his dad at one point, Locke felt confident that his house had never been broken into. He remembered a conversation that Kendra and his dad had about home security. Hugo felt that installing a security system was invitation for someone to break in. The biggest danger, in his dad's eyes, was what could happen inside the house. Fire, slips, carbon monoxide poisoning, none of which would have brought the police by.
"You don't think my brother and sister are in danger do you?" he asked. What fresh new terror had Jorge stumbled across? Kendra hadn't mentioned anything like the letters happening in San Francisco, so he assumed that everything was normal back there. With there being a picture now that included the twins Locke wondered. It was stupid to have uploaded those pictures.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jan 23, 2012 20:10:01 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
"Just my step mother Kendra. My dad died six years ago," The words were hard to say, they always were, and probably always would be. Locke reached over and started sorting through some of the pictures. The two from New Year's went into his pile, along with all the school photos and the newspaper clipping in which he was crossing the street with some other second graders. "Those are my brother and sister. Kendra took those pictures last New Year's eve. I uploaded them to the internet. This was way before the letters started coming." The new pile that Locke had made consisted only of the pictures his step mother would likely have, or at least had access to. "The letters started coming after my last birthday, so almost six months now."
Six months. Holy cow. He knew that it had been going on for some time now, but he never really thought about the length of it. Half a year had passed and he didn't even notice. "I know this is serious, and that you'll probably have to talk to her at some point, but if we could keep things quiet from Kendra?" A stupid request really. Kendra was legally his guardian, she should know about this, especially since it had been going on for half a year now.
It wasn't as though he doubted Kendra would want to get involved. She might still be coming around to his being a mutant, but she had been there in the hospital when he first came out of a drug induced slumber. Kendra was no monster, and strange as it might sound, Locke was finding that he didn't hate her nearly as much. The issue was that no doubt Kendra wouldn't understand how the school was the most secure place. To her the safest place was where she could keep her eyes on him. He didn't blame her. When you make a living finding the creeps of the internet you tend to be a bit overprotective. For his brother and sister Locke didn't mind Kendra acting that way. They loved San Francisco, it was where they grew up, and to them the house didn't feel like the walls were closing in. "It's not going to happen though is it."
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jan 23, 2012 18:35:13 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
There were few moments when Locke felt like he was in total control of the situation. Surrounded by the earth was one, but the times when the teen was his most confident involved kids. Locke just knew that Chase hadn't come into the kitchen only because of the prospect of candy. He hadn't even opened a bag of marshmallows before the shrimp came in. "No fudge until after you eat a sandwich," Locke ruled. Kids needed to eat more than just cupfuls of sugar, chocolate, and melted butter. Such a diet led to round bodies that had to be rolled out the door.
Taking out two slices of bread he handed them to Chase. "Want to make it?" he asked the boy. A grilled cheese sandwich was pretty basic, and if the boy was careful, something that he could make without having someone hover over his shoulder the entire time. A butter knife was provided to the small kid and the tub of butter slid over. "I'll supervise, make sure that you're safe. You start by buttering the bread on one side."
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jan 22, 2012 17:07:44 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Even with the grim situation Locke had to smile. Jorge and Ms. Taylor thought alike, and they both wanted to know the answers to the same question. "No clue. Nobody knew that I was going to come to New York, so it probably wasn't anyone back in San Francisco right? But I don't know anyone in New York that would have the younger pictures." Locke had tried remembering if his Dad had sent his uncle and aunt so many pictures. They had been on his mom's side of the family, that much he was able to remember clearly. Uncle Morris, or Mark and Aunt... something. Maybe they had a baby picture or two of him, but probably nothing more than that. When they had come out for his birthday it had been an after thought. Just random coincidence had them take a vacation in California during the week of his birthday. His birthday present from them had clearly come from the airport. Something about airport presents said anti-stalker. "Nobody that I know. But isn't that the way all stalkers are?"
He had tried thinking of anyone who might have as many pictures of him that could be a stalker, usually when he was trying to fall asleep at night. Ms. Taylor had spoken with his teachers, and Locke was given a chance to fix his grades, but rather than take his time with it, Locke was working obsessively. The more he did his schoolwork the less he had to think about the situation. By the number of pictures it had to be someone he knew, but nobody made any sense. "I figure it has to be someone I know. My dad was always the one getting the pictures developed and putting them in photo albums, so it's not like they were going to some stranger. Not unless it was the guys at CVS." School pictures do get sent to relatives, but for the most part kids in Locke's elementary school gave them to their friends. His social circle had never been huge, mostly Eaan and a few kids that had been in peewee baseball with him.
"What's going to happen?" Locke asked. He hated uncertainty. Nobody ever showed or explained how a stalker was handled on TV shows, and if they did, it was something like Fairly Oddparents where everything that was written as a joke. This was his life, and if his stalker was meant to be a joke, nobody was laughing. "Do I just stay inside the school forever or do I go into the witness protection program? Or do we just set me out in a park and see who comes to chop off the rest of my hair?" What Locke wanted was for this to stop. He wanted his stalker to be found and every picture they had of him taken away.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jan 20, 2012 18:06:21 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
There was no difference in height Locke noticed upon sitting. Detective... no, Jorge's eyes were right at Locke's level. He couldn't keep the gaze up for long before having to look back down at the table. Jorge was the same height, but the man was larger overall. It seemed more likely that he would get a stalker than Locke would. "Locke," the teen said. Jorge wanted to go by his first name, so Locke wanted to go by his. Ms. T had said that Locke wasn't to blame for this, that it wasn't his fault. The stalker was the one that was sick in the head, not the teen. Seeing as he was free from the guilt it felt wrong to be called by his last name. Locke was use to being called Mr. Tori by telemarketers or when he was in trouble. If he wasn't in trouble he would go by the name his dad had given him.
"Go ahead," Locke said when Jorge gestured to the pictures. With the newest batch there were forty five moments in time captured. Five of them were of him as a teen, the rest not going past elementary school. Two of the present pictures weren't on photo paper or newsprint, but just regular computer paper. They were pictures that had been taken when he had gone home for New Years with Chris, pictures that Locke remembered Kendra snapping as the ball dropped and Locke was fighting with a bottle of sparkling apple cider. "Ms. T said that I should write down when and where the pictures were taken." Locke informed Jorge, not wanting to interrupt any thought process that the detective was going through. The teen reached into his pocket and pulled out two sheets of loose leaf paper. His fingers were stained blue and black from his pens as he both compiled this list and fought to catch up on his schoolwork.
As the detective studied the pictures Locke chewed on his lower lip. The more people he told about his stalker the more ashamed he felt. He was a guy for crying out loud. Guys don't get stalkers, unless they are some famous celebrity. Since he was as famous as shoelaces it meant that any stalking business that Locke was a part of should have been him being the stalker, not the stalk-ee. No wonder that men didn't come forwards whenever they were victims of harassment. "Oh and uh... there's this," Locke mumbled, pulling out from his rear pocket the first envelope. Although it had been in the dictionary, things had battered it up slightly, and he had to bend it in half just to get it to fit into his pocket.
