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 Sept 22, 2012 22:12:29 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
The repeated stomping worked, and the scorpion turned it’s attention to the teen once more. Hard to say if this was an improvement or not, given that Locke had just made a mad dash to this rock so that he could avoid the stupid thing in the first place. Final judgment of his actions would come when he either succeeded or failed miserably. With the scorpion’s eyes upon him once again, Locke wiggled his fingers, getting some of the sand to creep up onto the rock. As long as the scorpion couldn’t see him on the rocks there was a flaw in the battle plan. By bringing some of the sand to him, a task easier than trying to keep the sand golems together, Locke was laying out a red carpet of sorts. A red carpet that was going to be right over a trap. ”C’mon, I’m right here,” Locke egged the creature on, treading on the sand he had brought up, ”It’s perfectly safe.”
Locke’s entire body felt like a guitar string, so taut that it would snap. He was playing Russian Roulette with a giant bug for a gun. Anything could go wrong at any second. Locke might fall, the creature might get in a lucky shot, a sandstorm could whip up and bury them both. It was all about finding the delicate balance between getting close to the monstrosity and staying ahead of it. Tight skin, tight back, Locke was feeling the heat and full of nervous energy. But it wasn’t as though he was afraid. Locke knew that in the end the Danger Room wasn’t what he saw right now. He also had enough faith that letting a student die wasn’t something that the school was going to allow to happen. Legal issues were a pain in the butt when someone dies from an accident on their own time, Locke knew that from experience. When you’re at school, or at a store, or anything like that, your safety was a liability to whoever owned the building. Ms. T had promised Locke security when he told her about the letters. Why would she allow him to get killed on institute grounds? So he wasn’t scared, but you couldn’t call this bravery either. Being brave is when something is scary, and you don’t have to do it, but you still do anyways.
Once the scorpion had stepped far enough onto the rock, Locke made his move. He’d be vulnerable during the attack, his mind not paying heed to the very thing that he was trying to hurt. Irony, thy name is Fluffy. From experience Locke knew that a rapid abandonment of the golem resulted in gopher holes, so making an opening for the creature to get a leg or two stuck in wasn’t an issue. Where the difficulty lay was in closing those holes faster than the creature could pull them out. With people it wasn’t as hard to surprise. Nobody much paid attention to what their feet were on, provided that the ground was solid. This fiend saw things the way that the teen did. The world did not matter above the surface, just what it made contact with, and what lay beneath. Rocks were its weakness, but to lure it this far Locke had put a layer of sand on his battlefield. Was it enough to alert the scorpion if there was a hole? Only one way to find out,[/I] Locke thought briefly before his mind jumped into the rock. Again the speed with which he found himself able to work with the materials amazed him. Once this ordeal was over with, Locke was seriously going to have to start including speed into his daily training sessions.
It knew something was wrong when its legs went down farther, skidding slightly. As the thing tried to right itself, get back that precise balance that insects have to have to keep all legs going the proper way. When Locke felt a leg in a hole he squeezed it with his mind, a hand forming under the rock to keep it in place. One leg caught, back up a step, bring the sand forwards more, try for a second leg, this time on the other side. Going back and forth between the two different mediums was making his head swim, but Locke could tell that it was working. Whatever type of rock he was standing on, it liked him. No stubborn “I’m too old for this”, or the spastic enthusiasm of clay. It responded to Locke a great deal easier than his brother or sister did, causing Locke to question if working with little kids was really the best career option for him. Well, you never saw Batman getting a paycheck from Commissioner Gordon.
When the rock that Locke stood on shook, his focus snapped. He did it. Locke’s insane plan actually managed to disable the scorpion. By going for every other leg on the opposite sides of the body Locke had gotten the scorpion to loose it’s footing. The stinger like thing was still waving about, but Locke had a feeling that it wasn’t as dangerous now. After all, the beast was trapped by something that it couldn’t see in. With a confident smile Locke waved at the scorpion as he made his way back towards the sand, careful of the swinging appendage.
As far as finding water, Locke’s plan had not changed much. He still was going in what his eyes told him was a downhill direction, but would be more respectful and cautious of the sand. There were plenty of things that he didn’t know about the scorpion, like how sensitive it was to things walking around on the surface. The thin layer of sand was enough for it to have followed Locke to its doom on the rock. His face was beginning to prickle, undoubtedly meaning that he was getting a sunburn there. As he walked along, Locke made sure to check not only what his earth sense was saying about the things his eye could see, but what was under his feet as well. It wouldn’t do him any good to be caught where there were no rocks to make a stand on.
Treading carefully became harder the farther Locke progressed. Although in his mind Locke knew he must just be walking in a big circle in an empty room, the program kept the horizon ahead of him, and his surroundings did not repeat. It was hard for him to fully submit to this fact. Progress was being made, but it was draining him. Exhaustion made him drag his feet. Twice he stumbled. Heat helped a little with the aching of his leg, but he was still giving it a good work out. The third time Locke stumbled he didn’t right himself. Face down in the sand he could feel the sun baking his back, and the sand warming his stomach. As drained as he felt, his body turning as dry as the sand beneath him, he had to check underneath him. He’d fallen hard, and that had to set off some alarm bells for any more scorpions. He sensed no movement, but there was something blocking his “sight” ahead. Fighting the urge to groan, because Locke remembered that he was being watched still, he pushed himself onto his knees. That thing blocking his senses seemed so familiar, like something he had practiced with before. If only his mind wasn’t so fuzzed he could place it.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Sept 2, 2012 22:02:05 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
"I don't want a flock though," the teen insisted. Sure there was some part of him that was like other guys his age that pondered over having a following of girls. Such imaginations usually didn't last long. Locke hadn't been happy with his dad having more than one love in his life. In his mind there could only be one person that you said "I love you" to in a romance way.
"Gina, I can't handle one girl," he complained. Not only was it an intimidating thought to talk to KD, but he didn't want to deal with anyone else that might come along. KD was an exception, she had looked him in the face without any hesitation on his eye what-so-ever. No questions had been asked. Locke got the feeling that she might not have even seen it, which was stupid because there was no way that she couldn't. "How am I suppose to handle any others?"
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Aug 28, 2012 16:39:14 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
”It’s just dirt,” Locke pointed out, seriously, this kid had to keep insisting that he was the victim here, ”You could get yourself out if you actually stopped whining and acting like I’m trying to kill you.” Sure it would take some effort, but by no means was Blake stuck there for the rest of his life. Any material that could trap someone forever was too difficult for Locke to work with. ”And you’re in it because you need to actually use that brain in your skull. You do have one right?” The words were harsher than Locke usually used. He wasn’t much for insults, other than perhaps a few gentle and well meaning jabs at close friends. When something bothered the teen he tended not to talk about it. Blake was just pressing all the wrong, or perhaps right buttons.
”I didn’t say that you couldn’t draw. Hell, I even said I didn’t mind if you did. All I wanted was you to not draw us playing soccer,” Locke said. What he needed, besides a two by four to whack some sense into Blake’s head, was a plausible reason why the teen couldn’t draw the soccer players that did not involve Locke or his insane mother. Add to that the whole dead eye thing… ”Some of us don’t want people to look at us, and a few of the others are major show offs.”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Aug 20, 2012 13:56:09 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Never the sort to joke about, Locke had been serious as a heart attack about him being an epicenter. His screensaver showed where earthquakes had hit, how far out their damage stretched. Every day he worked with the earth, sensed how it moved and shifted on its own. Earthquakes were caused from plates pressing against each other, then moving unexpectedly. She was right though, Locke wasn't an epicenter. That is just what you see on the surface. No, Locke was more like the hypocenter. What caused this related to him, but it was so far back in his past that he was unable to see it.
Right now Locke was having problems seeing how all this could be ok. His family history was, to say the least, messed up. He knew that you shouldn't get stuck in the past, at least that's what every shrink that he had to talk to told him. Did they understand that sometimes there's no way to avoid it? Whatever had happened prior to today that caused Renee to have such an unhealthy fixation on him was going to have to be addressed. Two mothers contending over one child was going to be like a nuclear fallout. But it wasn't just Locke having to face Renee that did not bode well in the teen. Chase was trying to run away because of him, didn't Ms. T get that? The kid needed to be found, but Locke was the last person on earth that the kid wanted to see. He had to look like some sort of monster to the little guy.
Locke had no doubts as to what direction Chase was in now that he had a moment to look with his powers. Chase's impression on the earth was always strange, given that he could shift from one person to another, and he was so young still that he hardly made an imprint. However the boy was making more contact with the ground than usual, and it felt strange enough to confirm to Locke he had picked the right way. He sprinted ahead of Ms. T, sort of like a scent hound.
A scent hound however will continue to hunt it's quarry. Locke had to pull up short when he realized where Chase was. The teen pivoted, looking at Ms. Taylor, a sick look in his face. "He's in the maze," he told her. With the way that he said it you'd have thought that Locke witnessed the kid get run over by a bus. This was something that Locke could not bring himself to do. Riding in a car could be tolerated, provided that he sat in the backseat in the middle. Even then Locke's hands were kept clenched tightly on his jean's knees. "I can't go in there."
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Aug 10, 2012 16:39:57 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
One positive thing that Locke could say about the Danger Room was that it always kept you on your feet. Either someone had programmed it to throw curve balls at you, or you were in there with someone who made you try things. If the objective was simply to survive, not to find water, Locke couldn’t stay tucked under his golem shelter forever anyways. The scorpion might be an insect thing, but it was still not brainless. Locke kicked at a claw, backing himself up more against the curve of stone. He had gotten close enough that the rock responded to him, which meant that he had to be close enough that he could get on it safely. But then what? It wasn’t as though Locke could just keep outrunning this stupid thing. Scorpions in this universe that the Danger Room created moved faster than ones in the real world. Or maybe that was the way that all scorpions moved. With the exception of the zoo, Locke only ever saw them on TV, usually with someone shining a black light on them to make them glow or eating them. What Locke had to do was to beat this thing and move on. On the sand it had the advantage, being designed to move through it, and it could sense him standing on the surface better than he could underneath it.
Slamming his palms on the surface Locke created a golem, just a little shorter than him off to the side. He hated working with sand. There never seemed to be a shortage of it when it was available, but it could not hold form dry. When wet, sand was more tolerable, it was less slippery, less likely to fall off itself. Locke couldn’t really focus on more than keeping Fluffy together. But on the upside it moved so much quicker than the stone did. If he got out of this program in one piece Locke promised himself he would study more of the speed aspect of his power. Right now he was just trying to get the scorpion to not notice him. With it properly distracted, wondering why it was picking up on more food, but the second meal didn’t touch with anything else, Locke ducked out under his shelter and onto the second stone outcropping.
It took the scorpion a minute to realize that it’s first prey had moved. It no longer was curled up where the creature had left it, but there was no sign of it anywhere. There was a nothing area again. Then once more the prey was there. Because Locke took a step onto the sand. His plan was simple, and more than a little dangerous, but he figured that it could work. He had trapped Cold Steel’s leg in the dirt before, so why not try the same thing with the scorpion. Locke figured that it had to be easier to hurt a scorpion’s leg than a human’s. With an injured leg it might not be able to move properly. Taking care of the thing was a top priority to Locke, probably on par with finding water. He was going to have to travel across the sand, and to do that he needed the scorpion out of the way.
With great purpose Locke stomped on the sand, just at the edge of his rock. The scorpion, distracted by Fluffy, twitched a little, recognizing the teen, but unsure or unwilling to leave this strange thing that was disturbing its territory. Again Locke stomped, harder this time. Yes the scorpion might live here, but this was Locke’s specialty. He wasn’t going to be intimidated, and he was not going to be ignored.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Aug 9, 2012 10:26:09 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
”Wouldn't that make me look, I dunno,” Locke mumbled, ”Weird? Like I'm spying on her or something?” It was too suspicious sounding to him. Not only suspicious but also obvious. If he knew the book in advance then maybe he could talk to her about it, but to look up the book and read it just screamed to him “I'm trying to impress you.” Some guys could pull off that blatant flirtations, but Locke wasn't one. It required a certain level of confidence that Locke did not have. If your self image wasn't the greatest and you were so obvious you looked like the creepy mouth breather from Hey Arnold.
And why did girls always tell him that he'd be swamped with girls whenever he did some sort of self improvement thing? Learning to dance meant that he'd send their heads spinning, and Gina was going to make him face a tidal wave of admirers. But what Locke wanted was just one girl, not a harem. ”I don't want to beat them back with a broom. I don't even want that many. Isn't one enough?” To Locke there had to be a difference between attracting one girl and attracting a whole bunch. You win the masses over in politics by listening to the general consensus and making a plan that adjusts to it. One person is won over by focusing just on them.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Aug 7, 2012 10:31:19 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
”First of all I'm not attacking you,” Locke pointed out,”All I'm doing is keeping you still. Secondly, you through a pebble at me, before I did anything.” It was only a pebble, but Blake still had made a physical attack of sorts. A pebble was what had been available, but if his parents had been able to convince the teen that a gun was the solution to anyone who he disagreed with this would be considered more of a serious matter. ”There's people here, not even just mutants, who would hurt you for less.”
Like his mother, who thought that Locke not instantly recognizing her after over ten years was sufficient reason to try to scratch his eyes out. Sometimes all it took was a simple bump on the sidewalk to set someone off, but other people didn't even need a reason to snap. Long time employees of Disneyland were especially prone to it, probably because of having to wear an ear splitting smile everyday, even when they did not want to. ”But this isn't about that. It's about you acting like you're the only one who matters.”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Aug 3, 2012 20:33:43 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
It had to be intimidating to suddenly find yourself halfway in the ground, but really the only danger that Blake was facing was a worm in his underpants. Had Locke wanted to really hurt the idiot he would have buried him further. Seeing him go white in the face made Locke feel uneasy. Like he wasn't any better than his mother. If Locke were to let the punk go now he'd run for it. The Californian took a deep breath and looked down. He would let his captive loose once he had gotten him to listen. ”No wonder you've got no manners,” he said. The thing about the guns wasn't frightening him. For one the kid hadn't pulled one out if he had one. Plus even if the guy had one, he wasn't going to be getting it at this point. The bag was left on the bench and the kid's waist was in the dirt. ”You were raised by idiots.”
Locke rarely bad mouthed other kids parents. If he wanted to complain about someone's child rearing skills he could always blame Kendra, though now he had plenty of ammunition for the other parents that played a part in the raising of him. As messed up as his own family was turning out to be, at least he had been taught to treat people with respect. ”Look, you could be human, you're not shooting me, but you have got to stop being an ass,” Locke said, being as firm with his words as he had to be with the twins, ”Because even guns don't stop everyone.”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jul 31, 2012 21:22:24 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Whenever you get trained to work in customer service you are taught to ask open ended questions. It helps to make the customer feel more at ease. Also it prevents the customer from using single word answers like yes or no by encouraging conversation. Gina didn't ask any open ended questions, and Locke answered her questions by just nodding his head. It struck him that such behavior wasn't getting them anywhere and he sighed. "Sorry Gina," he said, breaking the scene up once again. This time it wasn't because of a lack of prop, they just had overlooked an important thing.
Which was how little Locke actually tended to say. He was shy, and usually had to think out things first. It wasn't a debate that he was trying to win, or an oral report. All this was was trying to talk to a girl at a book store. Even if he didn't really like books Locke could talk about movies, or music. Those were things at Barnes and Noble. "I didn't know what I was suppose to say."
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jul 31, 2012 1:33:38 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
"Did you just throw a pebble at me?" Locke asked, hardly believing it. Alright so the two had hardly been considered the height of proper etiquette to each other, but thus far everything had been confined to physical barbs, and in the case of the "stupid" comment, not the best ones. It was not a big heavy rock, nothing to get bent out of shape over. But Locke had been under a lot of pressure lately. He couldn't express his anger about his father's lying to him all those years. The man was dead, and Locke felt to blame for that. His mother was alive and she didn't want him to be. Locke didn't want that parent around, but with the lie he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted his dad back at times. That thought scarred him. One of his friends was afraid of him now because of his mom. In short a lot of crap was going down and Locke didn't want to deal with it. Of course no three year old wants to e an accountant. Nobody even knows what an accountant is until they need one.
He didn't think he was being an arrogant jerk, just giving Blake a dose of reality. And not everyone wants to be the sports star, or a famous musician, and not everyone was able to be an artist. Locke could only draw stick figures really well. His desire in life was much more humble, but no less tenuous a position. Teachers only work for part of the year, and there were always budget cuts to worry about. Even as a person working in a day care there was the chance of a ramen for every meal diet. It seemed like parents didn't watch their kids anyways these days.
Locke was really starting to hate this guy. Age had nothing to do with offering advice or making requests. All Locke wanted was to be able to play his soccer game without feeling like he was underneath a microscope, and now this snot was throwing a pebble at him. His temper snapped and two dirt hands wrapped themselves around Blake's ankles. With a gesture from Locke's thumb the hands pulled the younger teen down, into the dirt that would have been a golem. Cold Steel had been the first to experience this burial, and that had been just one leg. With the one who pointed the accusing finger of "arrogant jerk", it was more than just one leg, it was the body up to the waist. "This is New York City idiot. Don't go around pissing everyone off," Locke hissed. The soccer game paused behind him, but Locke had never lied and said he was normal. He told them, when they saw the scar, that he was a mutant, he'd be fine to play. That, more than his bad playing, made it hard for Locke to find a game. The game started up again, but not with quite the same enthusiasm. "Didn't your parents ever teach you that?"
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jul 31, 2012 0:23:35 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
"They hire people you know," Locke told Blake, "Artists that is. They hire people to pose for them, or they get a friend to do it. From what I heard it's a good way to make some money. You get paid more than flipping burgers at McDonald', something like fifteen bucks an hour. And yes, this does concern me." Crap, did he have to tell this kid why he didn't want to be stared at? Was the giant scar over his eye not a clear enough indication that he might have issues about being stared at? Did he not think that there are just some people who want to live their life unseen?
Locke listened patiently as Blake went on to say his dreams of the future. Practicing Locke could understand. He'd played baseball as a child, and it was a regular part of his schedule to train with his powers. He also was going to be heading off to college in a short time to study childhood development. However there were some things that you either were, or you weren't. "No you aren't. You don't someday become an artist. Either you're one now or you aren't ever going to be." The words came out harsh, Locke could hear that, but he believed the more artistic things, such as music, writing, and yes, even drawing, were instinctual. Didn't some lady write a book that said you're a writer if the first thing you think of in the morning is writing?
Blake's final argument was that Locke was "stupid". The point was ironic, because it just oozed with the indignation of youth. "You're stupid," was the kind of insult that five year old children use. It was how Chris described girls, his sister included. "So being an artist is so competitive a field that you have to act like someone shoved a stick up you when they mention you trampling on their privacy? Dude, name one job that isn't cut-throat now. Call me stupid all you want, but at least I know what life is like outside of a safety bubble."
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jul 30, 2012 20:38:10 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
He probably was being rather rude about this. Who was Locke to dictate what anyone did in a park, unless it was some sort of legal activity, in which case it was something that he should act against. Kids walk around in parks, and they don’t need that sort of influence. Locke would admit that he was probably being overly sensitive about this whole thing. None of the others playing the game had even noticed the person on the bench. It wasn’t a big deal to them. To them it was all about the game. But they probably didn’t have to worry about someone wanting them dead. Not everyone has a psychopathic mother. Had the artist been a little bit more polite in the reply, Locke might have apologized and gotten back to the game, But the other teen had been less than courteous, and Locke was really paranoid about being stared at.
For a brief moment the drawing had been tilted towards him and Locke caught a glimpse of what was on the page. Not long enough that he was able to identify which individual person it was, but Locke followed logic. It had been a drawing of a person, and in direct line of vision to where this artist sat was the soccer game. Somehow Locke doubted that what he saw in the sketchbook was off the top of the other teen’s head, and it sure as hell wasn’t an elephant. ”Don’t you think it is my business when you’re drawing me?”
Locke wasn’t vain enough to assume that the picture had been of himself. Why would you want to draw someone who had no clue really how to play the game. During the game Locke had been following his usual tactic, which was to hang out on the side of the goal and try to defend against the opposite team. His powers were defensive, so he felt more comfortable taking on that role in the sport. It was weird when he considered the difference between soccer and baseball. There wasn’t as much of a rapid switch between the two when you played baseball. After three outs you either were on the offense or on the defense. ”Look I don’t mind you drawing, but does it have to be us?”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jul 28, 2012 21:12:00 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
At long last the season of the shorts had arrived, which meant that Locke spent every spare moment outside. What’s more, with Chase proving who had been sending the photos, the teen now was able to get off of campus grounds. There was a need to be active, to engage in some sort of activity that did not involve him sticking his mind into the dirt. Last summer Locke had tried picking up soccer, figuring a sport where the ball spent time on the ground where he could sense it would be easier than one where he had to try to catch something that he couldn’t ‘see’. In theory it was a great idea. Locke’s powers were earth based, soccer didn’t involve ball throwing. The only flaw was that Locke wasn’t very good at it. His only improvement thus far had been that the teen no longer could cause murder with the ball. No risk of decapitation anymore, but he’d win MVP about the same time that Mr. Noodle would. Still Locke could occasionally manage to join in a game in the park. He didn’t pretend that he was great, but just the physical activity was good enough for him. Slowly he was getting better at it.
The ball was passed to him, surprisingly enough, but Locke’s attention was elsewhere. He felt a burning sensation on the back of his neck that couldn’t be blamed upon the sun. Locke was always keenly aware of someone staring at him. Stopping the ball Locke took a quick glance over his shoulder, trying to determine who was staring. Shouts from the others reminded Locke that he was still a part of this game and that he had to make a move with the ball. Locke still kept in the game, but the knowledge that someone was watching him kept bothering him.
It wasn’t just that he didn’t like having someone stare at him. He felt awkward enough going about his daily life, but playing a sport that he was unfamiliar with made him even less at ease. Such unease meant that he started playing worse, which was saying something. Knowledge that Locke was sucking at the equivalency of a small black hole just made him more aware of the eyes upon him. Locke passed the ball and stepped away from the game. He had been feeling the stares for quite some time now and needed to do something about it. ”Hey,” he said to the guy with the sketchbook, intending to be polite, ”Would you mind not staring at us?”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jul 27, 2012 0:12:19 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Running, Locke quickly realized, was a very, very bad idea. Not even just bad. A bad idea is using Kool-Aid in place of milk when eating Trix cereal. This was probably the dumbest thing he had ever done, ranking right up there with approaching Renee and following Saph. It wasn’t like the teen purposely set out to endanger himself. His love of the Saw series affirmed the belief that when you escape death you are more appreciative of life. That combined with his concern over his brother and sister meant that Locke was not a teen who wanted off this crazy merry-go-round. Both of examples of dangerous, stupid ideas had been him risking his well being out of concern for someone else. Locke could have easily called out for the session to end, that he didn’t want to do this. But that wasn’t who he was either. Locke may step away from his math or physics homework at times, but he always saw it through to the end. It wasn’t in him to give up. When it came to his powers Locke was even more persistent. Without anyone to tell him so Locke still spent time training each day. In his downtime Locke liked hanging out on his bed, holding onto the pet rock that Kendra had given him, getting in touch with the material. The solid stone was much more familiar to him than this sand that shifted as he ran.
As his feet pounded, his legs propelling him across the dune there was movement. Had Locke not known that there was that creature lurking around nearby he might not have noticed the speed of it compared to his running. Any movement above the surface caused more than just the sand his feet touched to tumble and move. The creature beneath was stirring, Locke knew that, and it was coming for him. What the teen did not think about was how his steps might attract this thing. Oh sure, he suspected it would know when he moved on the sand. As long as his feet were touching the floor Locke could keep an ‘eye’ on those moving around, so why wouldn’t this thing know what he was up to? If Locke had walked softly he would be less noticeable to it.
But walking would also mean he’d be an easy target for longer. The creature was coming up fast, making a beeline towards him like the two were opposite magnets. He refused to look behind him, to check on the progress that the scorpion was moving at. Horror movies weren’t always the best indication of life lessons. You don’t usually have someone in a hockey mask running around a summer camp killing people, or the vengeful ghost of a dead man invade your dreams. Such things were up for grabs with the emergence of mutants. Genetics aside, reality often was the best way to learn something, but there were some facts that stayed the same no matter if Freddy was after you or not. Nobody can run at their best capabilities if you are looking behind your shoulder. For the movies Locke watched, doing so was a guarantee that you were going to fall down. His baseball coaches always pressed that looking backwards was wrong. All you’d do is distract yourself. Either you’re good enough to get there or you aren’t.
Getting out in little league baseball is one thing, getting caught by an oversized scorpion in a desert is another. Locke was keenly aware of the scorpion now as it grew closer to the surface. Ten feet, five feet, four, three… The rocks seemed to stay always just beyond his reach as he ran. Sensing, more than seeing the stinger hovering above him Locke hit the ground flatt. He had not tripped as the victims always do, but rather made the choice to try and tumble those last precious inches to the rocks. With more contact on the sand Locke became more aware of what he was seeing. Although still fuzzy he could feel how the sand had been shifted, sense the way that this beast stood, even the rock just behind him. All this processed in a blink as locke’s mind no longer was in his body. Instead it was in that rock behind, pulling at the earth with a speed that he had never thought he possessed. Locke’s golems had never been formed with a need for speed. The teen didn’t need speed. He stayed cautiously on the edge of things, making Fluffy first and then sending the golem into the fray.
The stinger did not hit him. Locke rolled off his stomach, pressing himself up into a sitting position. The golem had failed to form properly, but it had pulled the stone, making a partial arch that covered his back. He had to smile. He’d trapped people in floors before, having Fluffy tackle them and releasing the golem once the body was pinned, but he had yet to get the stone to keep from connecting. Looking up at the small shelter he had made Locke could tell what would be which part of the golem, though it probably didn’t look like much to anyone else. Thanks[/i] he thought, pressing a hand against the stone.
There was little time to relax though, as one of those long claws made a swipe for his legs, forcing the teen to scrunch up. He could barely stay crunched under it, and besides which his butt was on the sand. His shelter blocked off enough of the scorpion that Locke could see only part of it moving around. It was trying to get him, knowing he was there with each move he made.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Jul 24, 2012 20:23:31 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
Those two large things that Locke had felt moving were not moving down as he would have liked, but rather up and out of the sand. A massive pair of claws emerged, but they weren't normal, even if they had been scaled down. The claws had ridges along the inside, the way that a crab's would be, but it lacked the other half, keeping them from being able to pinch shut. Had the claws had that second half they would resemble a large pair of shears, long, thin, and dangerous. Said claws were supported by an insectoid of equally massive proportions. At least it seemed insect like to Locke. The legs were perfectly capable of supporting the size and weight of the body, contrary to what the teen had been taught by Bill Nye. This massive thing looked like some bizarre scorpion on steroids. Almost a scorpion. The body was shaped more like an elongated spider, but there was a thin whip like stinger at the end. There were no eyes that Locke could see, which begged the question of how it found its way to him. With no discernible facial features you would think it'd be difficult to tell how it felt about this strange and squishy thing in its territory, but Locke had a sinking feeling that it was pissed.
Now might be a good time to take evasive action. Locke sidestepped, leaning back as the creature's tail stretched over the body and hovered near him. His heart did a flying leap into his throat and for a moment it felt like his back was about to snap in half. But then he noticed that it did not seem to stray from its spot. The stinger was hovering there, not moving while the creature stayed tense. "Alright.. that's weird," Locke croaked to himself, licking his lips. This was feeling like a reverse Jurassic Park moment. The T-Rex was the thing staying still, and the prey was moving, but the beastie still didn't see it. Locke glanced past the creature, eyeing the area of sand that it had disturbed. No eyes, and yet it had sensed him. Do you work like me?[/i] he wondered, pulling at the sand just at the boundaries of his range. Like a divining rod that stinger swerved away from it's prior post to where Locke messed about with the sand, the creature following it. "Alright, it's your sandbox." he said, looking about him for the next outcropping of rocks. Walking on the sand right now was out of the question. Problem was that he'd have no choice to but to do so to get there. He dared to move on the rocks more, startled to see that the scorpion did not adjust back to him.
This time Locke tried shifting the rocks. The material was very hard, he could tell that much, but not unworkable like metal. Again the scorpion did not register the movement. Having lost sight of its prey it started to settle itself back into the sand. "I can't see you out there, but you can't see me up here." The teen looked around again. If he could stick to the rocks he'd stand a chance of not alerting the scorpion. From where he stood Locke could see more rocks heading what he felt was downhill, but he couldn't be sure how far they stretched. The objective was to find water, and it was his best bet for now. Staring at the distance from where he was now to the closest rocks only made it look farther away. Best to make a run for it while his confidence was still telling him he stood a chance.
