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 Nov 11, 2010 12:09:13 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
“It’s just been awhile since I had to fly solo,” Locke told Ms. Taylor. For the last five years and some odd months his mutation had helped him navigate the world. Even on Halloween when he thought he was someone else his power was still there, he just didn’t know how to read the vibrations. This time there was nothing, and he was sure of that. Locke wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that her powers didn’t bother him. He was frightened, but not nearly as much as he had been when he got stuck in the wall. If she turns off your powers forever, then anyone who spoke with her before wouldn’t be a mutant still, and I don’t think she’d be hired if she did any permanent damage.[/i] he reasoned.
Sitting down felt good after his training session and the dash to get here. As always using his powers ended up making him really thirsty. Ms. Taylor asked if he wanted anything for his lip. Locke considered it briefly, before shaking his head no. “Just a tissue,” Lips were sensitive and he cringed to think of putting anything on it. It stung enough as is. How much worse would it be to put any sort of antiseptic on? He made a quick mental note to avoid Listerine for the next few days. “Tongues and lips heal fast,”
As he gently dabbed at his lip with the tissue Locke took the time to study the office and think of how to succinctly explain the situation he found himself in. You could tell a lot about someone by what they choose to surround themselves with. Locke’s room had a few books in it, the majority of them being his textbooks, a neatly made bed, and pictures of his family on the nightstand. “I think,” he said slowly, giving pause to find the right words, “I think I’m wasting time with school.”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Nov 10, 2010 21:45:41 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
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Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
"Sort of,"Locke started. It was hard to explain Kendra's job, partially because he wasn't entirely sure of what it was himself. He remembered the day that she had met his dad. The two had done some programing together. "She sort of makes the internet safer. Kendra scours the web, finding things that kids might come across that they really shouldn't. Like say a kid wants to go to a Barney website. There are some pretty creepy people out there on the web that might make a site that takes advantage of a kid's typo and send them to something they shouldn't see. Part of her job is to report these sort of things, and another part is to make programs to keep kids from going to those sites in the first place.... I think." He didn't show much interest in her job, because it often meant he had to debate with her about just what he could see. When his dad was still alive he understood Locke's maturity level and the two could talk about movies. If Hugo thought Locke could handle it, then he was allowed to see said movie, under the condition that another friend was given the same permission and an adult went along. "She nearly had a coronary when she found out I watched Saw after I got out of the hospital."
Whoops! Didn't mean to say that bit. Locke doubled over the book, this time scribbling in a circle with the sort of fierce determination a dog set on a bird has. Triumphantly he flipped to the answer, a grin taking over his face. This time he got it right. The moment passed though and he leaned back in the chair, thinking about Henri's point of view on the night. "My little sister got trapped in a men's room once at the fire-station. Chris didn't know that there was a difference between the two and told her that was the one she was suppose to use. One of the female firefighters had to go in and get her out because she was too scared."
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Nov 10, 2010 17:48:00 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
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Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Back in California Locke hesitated to go to his school's guidance counselor. The guy was utterly useless, trying to get him to take extra years of a language to get a sequence that he already had. Thankfully by the time he'd gotten into high school and had that horrid guidance counselor most of the academic complications caused by the crash and rehab had been sorted out. Gym was the only thing that he had to be concerned about. He might not like Kendra all that much, but he trusted her to get him in the classes he needed to be in. It did not mean that he could turn to her about his future. She hadn't want to talk about the present, his being a mutant, and he didn't want to talk about the past. Technically speaking she was the closest thing he had to a parent, but he couldn't talk to her about this ball of confusion that was thrust onto him when he turned seventeen.
Never before had there been this much pressure to perform well in school. Yeah his Dad wasn't happy when Locke came home with a D on his math tests, but he accepted that it was the best that he could do, and they celebrated the C's when they came as if they were an A. Just last year it didn't even make a difference to him as long as they weren't F's. Now it was like he needed to get perfect grades in all his classes, and that was an impossible task for him. Even more annoying was that he didn't even know if his struggles were worth it. Kendra wanted him to go to college, and he was pretty sure his dad would want that as well. There were days though when Locke didn't even know if he wanted to finish high school. There was no way he was getting out of taking the SAT. He just needed someone who could help him figure out what to do with his life.
Perhaps the most frightening thing about his future, other than the lack of a plan, was that he really had no clue what he could do. There wasn't much that he was passionate about, and the things that he was, probably wouldn't be a good life plan. Nobody pays heroes, so just using his mutation was out. The whole baseball thing was out the window. He loved his little brother and sister, but there was a serious doubt that Kendra would allow him to just take care of them the rest of his life. No financial income with that.
So with his misgivings towards meetings with guidance counselors Locke asked if he could talk to Ms. Taylor about some things. He was running a little late. After knocking Locke entered the office. Not even five minutes ago he'd been wrestling with himself. Literally. Locke had made a golem about his size and was trying to fight it. The task was deliciously difficult. Yes he had the advantage of knowing what the golem was going to do, since he was the one commanding it, but the golem was stronger. His hair was all sorts of messed up, meaning that his eye was exposed, and his clothes were rumpled. When he had been controlling the golem he had been careless, and now sported a split lip. "I'm sorry I'm late Ms. Taylor," he apologized, "I was doing a little training and didn't hear my watch talk.".
Locke took a half step into the office and froze up for a second. He had seen Ms. Taylor on Halloween, but that wasn't when he was in his right mind, and he had no recollection of what she did. The entire left side of his vision suddenly vanishing and the lack of anything familiar feeling in his brain filled him in on what he had missed out by thinking he was John Kramer. He licked his lips, being careful, and stretched his hands ever so slightly in front of him. This was his first time in the room, so he didn't know how far things were, and he didn't want to look stupid by crashing into the furniture.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Nov 9, 2010 0:36:25 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Even if the two weren’t talking to each other you could hardly call the breaks in the conversation silence. The sounds of the pages turning and pencil lead scratching paper almost sounded like a hushed whisper. What it said Locke couldn’t figure out. They were working on the same subject he noticed, but Henri’s work looked more complex. Not nearly as complex as the possible future that she started to go on about. Locke was dumbfounded. How was he even supposed to respond to the panic of living in a cardboard box with thirteen kids? He didn’t even know about her family situation. They never really had a chance to sit down and talk in which he was awake or interrupted by some big situation.
Locke hooked his thumbs on the table and tried to think of something comforting to say to Henri. “I don’t remember my mom’s name, but Dad’s was Hugo.” At least she wouldn’t be alone in the not knowing the name of a parent. There was the temptation to tell her what the deal was with his birth mother and his dad, but he didn’t like thinking about it much, and it would just sound like he was trying to out-do her on who’s life was worse. “Don’t worry about the finances for now though. I mean Kendra, she’s my step-mother, she’s an internet nanny and last I checked my family wasn’t living in a cardboard box.”
The events of Halloween were a more cheerful topic to talk about, which was rather strange given that some rather dark things had happened, and people had gotten hurt. Locke wasn’t going to point out that people had to have done some pretty dumb stuff. There were so many possible costumes with wings that at least one person had to have tried flying. “Sorry to have ditched you. I don’t know what I was thinking when I did that, but I think there was a good reason at the time.”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Nov 8, 2010 0:02:45 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
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Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
It was all well and good that Henrietta had a rough plan of what to do with her life, but it didn't make the future any more clear for Locke. She might be ok with not knowing exactly where things were headed, but Locke needed to know these sort of things. With the exception of moving east he didn't like to jump into important life choices. He didn't even know where he would want to go if he did decide to go to college. Locke was beginning to feel like everyone else knew what they wanted to do. For now he just wanted to be normal. Well, the new definition of normal.
The math question about the fictional class of students deceived Henri as well. Looking at the explanation Locke could that the numbers did indeed add up to seventy-eight, but the reasoning behind why those numbers were selected still left him confused and frustrated. "It is a conspiracy. Already you have to be either stinking rich or living below the poverty line to afford college. Might as well make it so that only a few can get in. You have to give them the answers that they think are right." He attempted another question and flipped to check the answer. The grim look on his face said it was wrong, but seeing as there was no outburst it was just his usual slip ups and not something that was illogical logic. "Right now it's math. My whole score is going to take a dive if I don't get better."
For a couple of minutes there was silence as Locke did his work, his mind admittedly not all on the pages he was muddling his way through. Henri didn't know much more about what happened to him than he did, but he was glad to hear that she had been safe after he left the horror movie area. Being stuck inside a men's bathroom was a bit of a shock, and had their positions been reversed he might have never gotten out of that room out of embaressment. The scattered bits of that night he remembered didn't give him the full picture. "Yeah, I went off for some reason. I remember for awhile knowing who I thought I was but then... My memories were all tangled up and out of order and I wasn't sure if I was dead or alive, but I guess I made it out in more or less one piece." She didn't need to know about the panic that had frozen his heart when he snapped back to reality. He had been free from his terror of the enclosing darkness for a time that night only to be plunged back into it. "I had some nice sized stone bits stuck in my knee that burned pulling out. Good thing I didn't go into a maze of mirrors huh?" Usually if a golem went wrong or fell apart the shrapnel from the sudden dispersion avoided Locke. When he thought he was Jigsaw some of the most basic instincts of his powers didn't work right. So much of who he was went into whatever materials he worked with that any questioning in his mind messed him up. Had he been in a house of mirrors he'd probably would have been ripped to shreds if he had used his powers to defend himself.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Nov 7, 2010 0:42:00 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Since he was distracted from his work anyways Locke responded fairly quickly when he was spoken too, tilting his head up and brushing more hair over his left eye. A sheepish half smile lightened up his features. If he weren’t so grateful for the excuse to not figure out how quickly Patty and Sam can paint a house if Patty can paint it in four hours and Sam in six, Locke probably would have started turning a nice shade of red. As was she caught him twirling a pencil and looking very much like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. The last time he had seen her he had thought he was John Kramer and well… All he remembered clearly was that he was confused and angry in the end. She had been with him right before things went funky, but at some point he had abandoned her. By now she had to be convinced that he was a complete jerk AND an idiot. Locke gestured at an empty seat. “Not really doing much studying. I’m pretty sure that half the questions you don’t learn how to solve until you get into a college.”
He slumped over and bounced the eraser again, mumbling the next question, thankfully one that did not have letters for numbers out loud. “In a class of seventy-eight students, forty-one are taking French, twenty-two are taking German, and nine are taking both French and German. How many students are not enrolled in either course?” Ok, this one you can do. Forty one minus nine is thirty-two, and twenty-two minus nine is thirteen. Thirty two plus thirteen is forty-five, so seventy-eight minus forty-five… Hugo was good at math, his son not so much, and he had to resort to his calculator. “Thirty-three.” He flipped the book ahead to the answer, confident that he got it right. “Twenty-four?!” No way that could be right. It had to be thirty-three because that’s what the numbers told him. The scribbles he made in the book proved he was right. “Seventy-eight equals forty-one minus nine, yeah, plus twenty-two minus nine, yeah, plus nine plus neither?” Why were they adding back in the nine? And why were they adding the ones that were neither? The way that he did it made sense, but this was plain old vanilla ice cream flavored stupid. “Do they check this?” Still sore that his math was apparently wrong, Locke trudged through the remaining nine questions, guessing on the ones he had no clue about. The end result was rather interesting. “Three out of ten, and only one of them I did the work for. I just guessed the rest.” Well, at least he had a plan now for the actual test day. Fill in random bubbles on the math section.
((I will admit that that is what my exact results were with the practice questions. Seven wrong, and I worked on those wrong ones))
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Nov 6, 2010 19:44:19 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
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Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Hey I just started a thread with Locke in which he is "preparing" for the SAT. It'd be kind of fun to see teens tackling the critical test. So if you have a teen that's about the age to take the SAT feel free to jump in.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Nov 6, 2010 19:10:29 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
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Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
I have no skills when it comes to photoshop or gimp, and would like a new set for Locke. I've been pestering my roommate too much lately, and don't want to ask them to do yet another set for me. Could someone help me out? The guy is Paul Dano, and if someone could find a fitting quote that'd be awesome. Thank you!
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Nov 5, 2010 23:25:02 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Pencils, paper, dictionary, calculator, and thick books that Locke would rather not crack open. It was not just for his usual homework, if it were all he’d need would be his trusty old Asus laptop. Even with his less then stellar grades in all classes math and science related, Locke was a junior in high school, which meant college applications and the most vital test any student might have to take. The English portion of the SAT he wasn’t worried about at all. Even if he had to take the old exam with the analogies, Locke was sure he’d be able to score well. It might not be the same SAT that his step-mother had taken, but she did want to help him with it. He didn’t even want to take the stupid thing. If Locke were to go to college, he didn’t want to so soon after high school. Plenty of kids went to college not knowing what they wanted to do, but Locke didn’t even have an inkling of what he maybe might want to major in someday. The SAT prep books that she had sent had been FedEx’ed out of good intentions, but it didn’t make the strained relationship between the two any better.
A sigh bearing the weight of the monumental task ahead of him fell out of Locke and he flipped the first prep book open. On the plus side there were letters. Unfortunately they were all letters that were suppose to represent numbers. “Letters aren’t numbers, not unless you’re the Romans.” he complained and shut the book. “Last I checked I wasn’t.” His complaints might be a little loud, but he was stuck with either this SAT crap or his normal homework that liked to add physics to the math. Physics was just a science term for math. Sure it was math that would explain the world to you, but he didn’t need to know how to figure out friction. Locke sighed yet again, it turning into a groan. SAT first, get the math part out of the way for that, then do his favorite assignments, leaving the stupid science for the end.
This time when he opened the book, Locke sat down in front of it, and grabbed a pencil. For a few seconds he studied the problem. This wasn’t the practice, just working out some of the questions. He could time himself later on. His focus did not waver as he started bouncing the eraser end of the pencil against the table. The rhythmic beat however quickly took him out of the question and he was paying more attention to not paying attention. This was a dumb idea anyways.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Nov 4, 2010 10:59:51 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
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Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
At one point in his life Locke had been extremely active, doing as much baseball as possible. It was a good thing because for one, it kept his temper in check and it got him exercise. As a result of his constantly wanting to go out and play he even managed to pull his dad away from the computer screen every so often. If you had asked Locke age ten and under what he was going to do when he grew up he'd answer straight away that he was going to play baseball. Now that he was seventeen and prepping for the SAT Locke was as confused and lost about his future the day that his entire world had changed. Yeah he liked to write, and his English teachers said he was good, but practical headed Locke knew he couldn't live off of being a writer. It was scary to think that he was going to have to take a test that would dictate what sort of colleges he could go to, especially since half of it was his least favorite subject. Locke didn't even know if he wanted to continue his education once high school was over.
Having such big and worrying thoughts required him to do something physical before he started ripping his hair out in frustration. Baseball was no good. He had no depth perception when it came to things more then an inch off the ground. The last time he held a baseball was part of physical therapy to see if his broken arm had healed well. Working on Fluffy was always an option, but most of the time he ended up not doing much moving himself and feeling like he was the one made out of stone. There was an itch in his blood to do something that required movement.
Which was why the Californian was standing outside in the cold autumn air staring at a soccer ball like it was an egg that fell from outer space. He didn't really know much about the game other than it being called football outside of the United States and that you cried "Gooooooaaaaaallll" when you scored a point. Baseball he knew, American Football he had some vague notions about, but soccer? He'd only grabbed one of the stupid balls because he knew that it went on the ground. Ground stuff he could work with. "I'd be better off playing Calvin ball" he muttered as he dropped the mysterious soccer ball. He gave it a few experimental kicks, trying to avoid tree roots. Earlier he'd messed about with the dirt a little, just making molehills with his powers, and the ball ran over one with a big rock after a strong kick, going airborne and hitting a tree. Locke dodged the ball as it flew back towards him. "Baseballs or soccer balls, I'm going to end up taking someone's head off."
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Nov 3, 2010 14:39:40 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
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Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
It wasn't just because he had the costume that Locke dressed up as Jigsaw. He admired the guy. Not that Locke had any desire to lock two people up in an unsanitary bathroom and force them to choose between a slow death and sawing off a foot with a dull blade. John Kramer understood more about how a human worked than those psychologists that Locke was forced to see. The man was as logical as Locke, able to apply science and math in a real world setting (not only for his traps and tests, but the guy was an engineer), and odd as it might sound, some of their beliefs were similar.
Especially that murder was inexcusable. From his hiding spot Locke witnessed the foul act. It wasn't the first time he'd seen someone die. It was something he'd experienced before. Locke had witnessed the end result of Saph on a rampage, and because of this knew what brain matter looked like. The only deaths that he remembered now though were those of his test subjects who were missing that vital piece of human nature that made you survive no matter what it took. His heart held no sympathy for the girl who commanded the army of "undead". She must be dealt with.
Which begged he question of how. All of his tests so far had been in a contained location, someplace that he could set things up far in advance. Strangely enough it was not the crowd that concerned him. They were just fools caught up in an illusion like the doll girl that he had left behind. All the vampires would fall victim of gravity when they tried to fly. Zombies and mummies might be a bit more difficult given the variations of them. Jigsaw/Locke knew that these were actual people, and he knew that he was missing something important about himself. Maybe it was that who he believed he was had been killed.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Oct 31, 2010 23:39:09 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
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Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
He paused for a moment, studying this person who failed to realize her own humanity, judging if she was unaware of the value of life, specifically her own. In order for any of his lessons to be taught properly he had to go on his base instincts of human nature, and apply a great deal of thought to the social and psychological tendencies that affected his subjects actions in any given situation. There was the most basic desire to survive, but did she have it?
Locke Jigsaw thought that she did. Her responses was not the pleading of someone who cried out that they wanted life but were too afraid to take action to keep it, nor was it a narcotic driven nonsense. She had pointed out how everyone had been staring at the sky, an action he had the muscle memory of doing. This girl was under the clear impression that she was, it would seem, an over-sized rag doll. What compelled her to continue this lie to herself was unclear.
In spite of what the police might say about his actions, Jigsaw was a compassionate man, or at the very least his actions had been driven by a passion. This disillusion girl had done no wrong to the best of his recollection and needed a type of help that he was unable to provide. He could give someone the value of a life, wake them up as a new person, but he could not remind someone of who they really were without knowing that himself. "Your face is chipping,"Locke told her. If he was unable to help her, the least that he could do was to give her directions on what to do next. Taking her with him was not an option. "Go to someplace safe and stay there." Funny how Locke's normal voice suited the role he now found himself in.
It was not much to go off of. Safe was a relative term for someone who had given in to madness, but for him to lock her away when she had not done anything wrong would be cruel. He began to slip away into the crowd, being mindful of his blind spot. The doctors were all the ones with the medical knowledge, but he knew that if he was having such a problem then he should be feeling much more weak. Perhaps he was missing something like the doll girl had suggested. There was surprisingly little in his short term memory, a mystery that he now had to solve before continuing in his own work. As a comfort there was more in his long term memory. He could remember Jill the clinic, waiting in the car, and the first game with Cecil. Other memories were there, but for some reason they were jumbled. He recalled the long stillness of Adam and Doctor Laurence's test, but that memory was followed by the preparation for it long after he had pronounced "Game over". The design of his life was not matching the numbers, and he had to make sure that his own self was secure before he could continue to teach.
((Sorry to leave you hanging Henri, but I need to get Locke over to the Angel of the Waters Fountain. It was great posting with you again and I look forward to seeing what 'Sally' does next.))
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Oct 23, 2010 18:00:14 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
John Locke posed the theory that a person's identity is not established by simply the physical traits, or even personality traits, but rather through memories. It is the "sameness of memories" that solidifies a personal identity. So when Locke Tori's memories faded away he was indeed a new person, just as everyone there that evening no longer were who they had originally been. He turned about, looking at the people surrounding him. Everything on the left side was gone, there was no peripheral vision. Without the memories of the hospital, and the doctors speaking over him, this sudden darkness did not strike terror in his heart. It frightened him of course, but there were more pressing issues to attend to.
In his gloved hands rested a mask. Locke studied it, knowing that there was something about the pig face with hair that he knew. His own memories, ones about his life, were blanked out right now, but this mask was related to something that he just could not forget about. A girl at his side, who he recognized the image of, but not the person herself. She looked like a child's plaything, something that he could make. He'd made a doll like thing before. Jigsaw drifted to his brain. It explained the mask somehow, and why he knew he could make dolls. The impaired vision might be a result of the cancer. The medical jargon would explain things better if he had the time to listen to such things. His time was limited, and there was much to accomplish, much to teach. "Humans are weird" the girl dressed as a doll said. Locke put the mask on. "Not weird, just unaware" Ironic that she said that.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Oct 19, 2010 22:32:01 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
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2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
“Halloween is kind of a big deal back home. Either I stay at home and pass out candy while watching horror movies or go out with my sibs and make sure that they don’t get lost or kidnapped. If I let Kendra go with them they wouldn’t get to go to the houses they wanted. She’d be too clingy.” Of course all the houses and costumed people back in San Francisco had nothing on this. Locke couldn’t wrap his brain around the extravagance of it all, and it was a pity that it was for such a short time. Those that were involved in the presentation of Terror-Fest had made a great commitment. What a waste of such hard work. “As big as it is there, I think I might like New York’s better. Have you tasted the apples here? They’re so juicy and sweet. It’s like having a tidal wave happen in your mouth.” Food was something that he found himself enjoying a great deal on the east coast. It had never been something that he gave a great deal of thought to before other than what could he make to eat. Things were made differently here, and Buffalo sauce tastes infinitely better when it is actually from Buffalo. Of course Taco Bell tasted the same no matter where you were.
Henri got Saw. “Yeah, even the worst of them you get attached to, if nothing else because you want to see them be the next to go. I hated Amanda. Don’t know why exactly, maybe because she was too obsessed with Jigsaw, or that she was always so messed up. Have you seen the latest one?” He asked in hopes that she would be able to tell him if it managed to uphold the good name of Saw. Between his vacation and working on his mutation Locke just didn’t get a chance to go see it. It did not help that he was rather limited on his funds. Before he could get his answer though Locke was thrown into his own weird situation. It seemed that every time Locke went into New York City he encountered a bigger misadventure. His head started tilting back, like he still was wearing that balloon and it was tied to his head. Amazing how a crowd will all do the same thing without realizing it. Rather than question why everyone stopped walking Locke did what the crowd did. Was his brain melting? It felt that way because all that there was there was this question feeling.
