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.
Jericho had to admit the exchanges with the woman and unexpecting passers-by were...amusing. Like no one really did care that a random sheep was roaming the city. He wasn't the sharpest knife in the spoon drawer, but from this, he was able to surmise that maybe this young lady wasn't from around here either.
'It's New York City, Darlin. You could be on fire and nobody would bat an eyelash. I take it you ain't a local neither," he said with a dry mind-laugh. 'You're reachin', Darlin'. But I kinda like that,[/font]" he said with a nod of his sheepish head.
Right. It was the lettuce he was going to be following. As if. But the important thing was, he supposed, that he was going to follow the pretty lady and her...lettuce. He approached, and very daintily nibbled at the lettuce, taking care to eat around her fingers. He wondered if he shifted back, would she still be willing to feed him. Maybe time would tell, if he didn't wind up in Hollywood or on a sandwich before the day was out.
'Pretty sure I ain't lucky enough to wind up on TV but...I can't say I'd mind comin' with ya so....lead the way Sweetheart.' With that, he followed her like the obedient little sheep he was.
Jericho's posture had changed a bit when she turned him down. He still had his usual confidence and swagger, but he had created a tiny bit more distance, and maintained a respect for her space. "I've taken a few, but yeah I do prefer ending it quick. But it's like my daddy always said, no matter how bad ya are, there's always someone badder," he replied with a small shrug.
"Well, that is very kind of ya," he said gently. "I think I will hang around anyway, if you don't mind. After all, there's more to life." Whoa. Did he actually just say that? What was the world coming to? It was clear he had no chance with her, but he was still hanging around for some reason. Maybe he was stubborn, or maybe it was just nice to talk to someone; who knew?
After a few moments, he gave another tip of his hat and stood up to go make his rounds around the bar. Two guys were getting a little too rowdy, but he managed to calm them down without much incident. Someone looked a bit young so he carded them and got to show some sixteen year old blond girl with a bad fake ID to the door, a lot more gentle than he had with the drunk man from earlier though.
Then he made his way back to Rayne, chuckling a little. "Underage, fake ID. Little rascal has some sort of lightning powers. Zapped me on the ass when I led her out..."
He had to admit he was oddly enjoying the affection and having her hands on him. Part of him hoped that would continue after his jig was up and he was human again, but not many people took too kindly to being messed with the way he was doing. 'Some streaks are meant to be broken," he said casually, looking up at her to somewhat make eye contact.
'I'm a little old to be a lamb, Darlin'. And being passed over really ain't my style.' Could sheep wink? Did sheep wink? Because this one just looked up at her and winked.
'Mutton is meat from a sheep that's older than two,' the sheep explained, walking along beside her and sneaking a peek at her....figure...every now and then. 'Hang on a second. You're trying to get me killed? And here I was enjoying our time together,' he protested, somewhat afraid that she was actually going to get him butchered because if he died a sheep, he was a dead sheep.
'Besides, who's to say someone won't lie and just say I'm theirs?'
Posted by Jericho on Feb 11, 2020 22:32:54 GMT -6
Spencer likes this
Zeta Mutant
Tomato
Pansexual
No Thanks
30
1
Oct 9, 2020 5:54:53 GMT -6
Fishy
Jericho's personality really lent itself to messing with people, though in a city like New York, not too many people gave a flying cow-pie. But, Jericho's mutation lent itself to a rather unique way of messing with people. Even if no one would react outwardly, they'd definitely be thinking about that cow, goat, or antelope they saw in the middle of the sidewalk on their commute. The cowboy didn't have to work today, so he slipped into the back alley behind his apartment, and...stripped naked.
Sure, he could shift clothing, but sometimes that just wasn't any fun. It was all the joy of streaking without actually streaking, until it was, of course. He'd tucked his clothes into a duffel bag which he stowed out of sight, and then the next sixty seconds were as if his body were made of play-dough and someone were making something else out of him. Today, he'd decided on sheep. They stuck out, and while not threatening, they were certainly a sight to see on the street. Once shifted, he just trotted out of the alley and started a lap around the block. A very slow, deliberate lap. He'd stop to see the sights, wait at a crosswalk, and all around just goof off to see what kind of reaction he could get.
Sure enough, he'd caught someone's attention. And to be fair...she'd caught his, too. She was quite pleasant to look at, that was for sure. 'Oh Darlin' there's always a plot. Sometimes it just takes a little time for it to pick up, is all.[/i][/color]' The voice was his usual deep, silky Texas accent but it was in her head as the sheep looked at her. He not only let her pet him, he stepped closer, even. 'Well, when a mommy sheep, and a daddy sheep love each other very much--Nah I'm just kiddin'. I actually live pretty close by. I just...may have gotten lost,' he lied, looking up at the woman with a tilt of his wooly head.
"Yep. Just sorta trying out everything until Uncle Frank figures out where I'll work out best, I reckon," he said with a shrug.
"Yep; though...the more people I have to throw outta here, the higher chances there are that one of 'em'll be able to kick my ass," he said with a half-cocked smile. "And I ain't sure too many people wanna see that. I mean...I sure as hell don't."
The shutdown was classy. It came pretty early in the game, but she attempted to let him down easy. However, there didn't seem to be anyone else worth his time at the moment, and she was pretty good company, even if he wasn't going to get what he was really after out of it. But...perhaps he'd hang around and entertain her for awhile anyway. At least until someone more...susceptible came along.
"Welp, thanks for lettin' me down easy, but...I don't have to go unless ya really want me outta your hair. You're still good company, if you don't mind me saying," he said, relaxing a bit on the flirting and trying to appear more sincere. "Though I will have to get up and actually walk around eventually, especially if the old man starts watchin' me. But in the meantime, it'd be nice to know I'd have somewhere to light and chat awhile." He gave her a nod; all she had to do was tell him to piss off, or something along those lines, and he'd drift on his way around the bar. Otherwise, he was going to hang around for a bit longer.
"True. Though I usually end up with cleanup duty or something stupid; I lucked out and got security tonight," he said with a shrug. "Though one might say I can be strong as an ox sometimes," he joked with a sly smile, only hinting very slightly at his mutation. He didn't know why, it just seemed appropriate.
"True, but the less people decide to be stupid, the more I can hang around and shoot the breeze, right?" he said, a gleam in his eye and a strong Southern twang in his voice. "Well, if you do decide to do anything stupid..." he gave yet another wink and a tip of his cowboy hat, "I promise to be gentle." He let that sentence hang in the air for a moment as he took in her name.
"Rayne. It suits ya nicely," Jericho complimented. "Hey, I been called a lot worse than Cowboy, trust me. Last name you'll have to work for though," he teased lightly, though it was probably more of an outright lie. Last names generally meant commitment, and Jericho was pretty sure he wasn't ready for any of those just yet. Cowboy was really just looking for a good time(or a few, depending on how things went). Occasionally, his eyes would scan the bar as he half-assed looking for anyone making trouble or being unruly. As it stood, the pretty lady next to him had his full attention.
Cowboy. He didn't get that alot, but he liked it. And something told him that as he spent more time in the city; he'd probably get that alot more. He flashed the woman a charming smile. "Well, I guess it can always be worse," he said with a shrug. "Though I guess it's nice to flex my muscles every now and again."
He really wanted a drink but knew that even he probably couldn't get away with drinking on the job. Then again his uncle Frank was probably watching him closer than the other employees. As far as that went, Jericho was sure Frank was doing a favor for his brother, not his nephew. "Somethin' like that. Should be an easy night if nobody else decides to be stupid," he said smoothly. That guy had done it all wrong. You couldn't just go around being blunt and expect to get anywhere. Play it cool. Take your time. And most importantly, respect the word no and you won't get tossed out on your ass.
"Name's Jericho," he said after a moment, But feel free to keep callin' me cowboy. And ignore the old man that insists on calling me Huckleberry..." his smile faded into a bit of a grumble at the last bit, but he was more or less coming to terms with that again. But damned if he let the old man know that.
Upon throwing the unruly guy out, Jericho did manage to see someone that might have been approaching the bar, so he waited around and held the door open for the white-haired woman, his demeanor returning to it's normal charming and inviting state as opposed to the more serious attitude he'd had to adopt for the drunk fellow. Once inside, he let the door close behind them and he did his usual 'rounds' which mostly just consisted of him walking around talking to patrons and only kind of making sure nobody caused trouble. In this bar, the jerk from earlier was a rare exception.
People were pretty friendly with a few drinks in them, he'd realized, though tonight no one was really piquing his interest, so the Texan was hoping for either a change of pace or someone else to toss out by the seat of their pants, otherwise it was going to be a long night. After a few moments, he saw the woman from before sitting at the bar being slid a bottle. So, he sauntered up, sliding onto the stool next to her and tipped his hat in greeting.
"Evenin', Darlin'," he said with a charming smile, his southern bass voice rumbling a little as he spoke. "Sorry ya had to see that earlier; most people here are pretty reasonable. That guy just...couldn't take no for an answer." He gave another tip of his hat before relaxing on the stool a bit.
Bar None wasn't particularly full this evening, but it was busy enough. People scattered about, drinking, talking about whatever sporting event was going on at the time, just being patrons of a New York Bar had a subtle Western theme to it. The door swung open, then closed as a figure walked in, looking like he stepped right out of a classic western movie.
Tall, with an average build, long brown hair and a bit of a five-o-clock shadow. Brown leather cowboy hat, matching jacket, yellow flannel shirt with bluejeans, a brown belt with a big gold belt buckle sporting a cow skull and crossed rifles, topped off with brown leather cowboy boots. All that was missing was the spurs.
"It's about time you got here, Huckleberry..." the old man walking the floor grumbled when the younger man got close. "Sorry. I made it. And don't call me Huckleberry," he said in a just as deep voice, but with a little more southern twang to it. "You got security duty. Hop to it." Jericho merely nodded, tipping his hat and making rounds around the bar.
Didn't take long for him to find trouble. Some drunk harassing a woman. Easy. While the guy was in the middle of his third cheesy pickup line, Jericho tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey buddy. You should prolly cool it."
"Hey. **** you." Jericho shook his head; the guy wasn't his type anyway. "Get out."
Then the guy tried to swing, but he was too slow, Jericho caught the fist with his right hand, then rocked the guy with an uppercut, then twisted the arm he'd caught behind the guy's back and pushed him out of the door and tossed him into the street just like one of those old movies. He came back in sporting a smirk, again taking to making his rounds around the bar.
"Welp, I ain't got no little ones...." he quipped right back with a jokingly apologetic shrug.
"First week, actually. But yeah, I feel like a damn tourist. I'm hoping maybe the city'll grow on me, but...as it stands I ain't a fan."
He gave a sigh at the mention of the name Huckleberry, but his mood turned around after Uncle Frank left. "Yeah...that's my middle name. Apparently my dad read a book once," he said with a dry laugh as he let his eyes meet Juniper's, not worried about the bar or his crazy-ass uncle for right now.
"Growing up that's all my aunts and uncles would call me, Huck, Huckleberry, or any other embarrassing variation. I insisted on Jericho when I got older, and everyone but Frank got the memo."
About that moment, Frank came back and set their drinks in front of them. "I don't do memos. Refer any grievances to the complaint department," the old man said in his southern bass voice as he pointed to a plaque behind the counter that said "Complaint Department, please push button," and it had a mouse trap on it.
"I remember when you had that tacky shit in your house. At least now it makes sense," he quipped. "Friendly reminder, your employee discount doesn't hit til you start work," Frank said dryly as he walked away. "It's fine," he said to Juniper after he'd gone. "I can still spot ya~" He flashed a charming southern grin and an equally charming wink.
He laughed, a deep, silky southern laugh that almost rumbled. "Not bad, you sure you ain't got a lil' Southern in ya?" he teased lightly.
"Noted~ Though...I wouldn't say I have a favorite drink. Long as it goes down smooth and has a little bite to it, I'll drink it," he said with another smile and tip of his hat. "That's a good analogy. Though I've never had my dad-blamed wallet stolen after walking into a DMV..." he grumbled, biting his lip a little as he winced thinking back to only moments prior. Then again, that led to him shifting into a goat and ultimately catching her attention. So maybe indirectly, he owed that ginger demoness a beer for possibly setting him up.
"I'll be glad to," he said, offering her his arm in a gentlemanly fashion. Truth be told, he actually hadn't worked at the bar yet, but he was set to start, and besides this would be a good way to get a lay of the land, what he could look forward to. A few blocks around the corner, the bar was pretty unassuming. Basic building with tinted windows that let you see out but not in. The sign out front read BAR NONE. Once inside, it was....well, it was your basic bar, but with a hint of a saloon feel. Like they had gone for the theme, but never fully committed. Business hadn't quite picked up yet so it was quiet. But as the older gentleman walked out of a back room and met Jericho's eyes as he led Juniper to the bar, he was starting to think it was a bad idea.
"Huckleberry! You don't start work for a couple of days, but I appreciate the initiative," the gentleman said in a similar accent.
"Hey, Uncle Frank," the bovine-shifter groaned. "Here for pleasure, not business. And I haven't gone by Huckleberry or any form of that name since I was sixteen."
"I know, Huck, but that's about to change,[/color]" the older man said with a smile and a wink, his deep voice rivaling that of Jericho's.
"Duly noted, Uncle Franklin," he replied. "Can you get a couple of drinks for my friend and me? Whiskey, and whatever she's having."
The old man nodded, and Jericho motioned to the both of them. "Juniper, Uncle Frank. Uncle Frank, Juniper."
After receiving the orders, the old man grumbled something under his breath and went to the back, to return with their drinks in a few moments.
"Hey whatever floats your boat; long as it don't sink mine," he replied coyly.
"Welp, maybe it ain't unfortunate," Jericho said with another smirk, straightening up and turning so he was standing next to her instead of in front of her. "Just means maybe, if you're up to it, we can find some fun together. Unless that was your way of sayin' no, in which case you broke a cowboy's heart because I'd have to ride into the sunset alone." He gave her a teasing smirk.
"Juniper. Purdy name. Suits ya nicely if ya don't mind me sayin'." He could practically feel her eyes on him, and he couldn't feel her hands on his wallet, so that was a good sign. He winced a little at the question.
"Ya caught me. Yeah I'm a long ways from the ranch. I uh...welp..." He shuffled a little. "I'm from a ranch in Texas. Old man thought I was gettin' a little too spoiled and spoonfed back home, so I'm here workin' my Uncle Frank's bar," he said with a shrug, trying to play it off. But hey, at least Daddy hadn't cut him off; he wasn't sure if that was intentional or an oversight, but he wasn't gonna test that. Not all at once, anyway.
"Got an apartment a few blocks away, walking distance from work, so that's nice, I guess. Still gettin' used to the new settin' though."
He was attentive but apparently not attentive enough, as someone seemingly popped up out of freaking nowhere and was now behind him. Or maybe he just wasn't looking behind him. Either way.
"Sheeit!" he yelped with a startled jump. "You saw that, huh?" he said, his Texas accent very prominent on his lips as he spoke. "Nah, that's not the kink. The kink is doing it in the open, or completely nekked," he said with a shrug and a small smirk. Sure he could shift clothes, but when he had the option, he chose to at least ditch the shirt, but this shift was last minute, and it was freaking cold today.
He tipped his cowboy had and gave her a charming smile; his wallet was tucked away safely, so he didn't have to worry about that. And...hell he may as well try to have a little fun to make up for the crappy welcome he'd gotten five minutes ago. Hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans, he relaxed considerably. "Name's Jericho. Just blew into town about a week ago."
His brown eyes twinkled a little. "If you ain't too busy, I'd love to have ya show me around sometime~"
That was a hell of a welcome to the city. Not here a week and someone had stolen his damn wallet. The girl had made a run for it, but he managed to keep up. He'd lost time falling, plus a minute shifting, but once he'd finished his shift, it was pretty easy. People in New York didn't move for much, but a goat running down the sidewalk? That made people get out the damn way. Then, he felt sorta bad for tackling her and taking his wallet back, but really, it was her fault.
As it stood, there was a white billy goat trotting down the sidewalk, a wallet in its mouth. The goat slipped into a nearby alley and out of sight of the general public before it started shifting and morphing, like someone was turning a goat made of putty into a man. After sixty seconds passed, there was now a tall, handsome man in a black cowboy hat, denim jacket, flannel shirt, jeans with a big belt buckle, and black cowboy boots with a wallet in his mouth. Walking back out onto the sidewalk, he took the wallet out of his mouth and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket.
"Not making that mistake again," he mumbled in a deep Southern Twang.
Then, he continued the walk home, suspiciously eyeing everyone who so much as brushed against him.
Character's full name: Jericho Huckleberry Archer Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Huck, Jerry Gender: Male Age:24 Date of Birth: September 5, 1995 Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Amarillo, Texas Nationality: American Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: European
Appearance
Hair color and style: Brown, usually kept long and straight Skin Tone: Slightly Tan Eye Color: Brown Height: 6’2 Build: Average Visible mutation: None Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Has a bull skull tattooed on his back Other features: N/A
Everyday clothing style: Lots of flannel, denim and boots, capped off with big belt buckles Uniform: None Sleepwear: Boxers or nothing Miscellaneous clothing: Almost always wears one of several cowboy hats
Character
Personality: Jericho is a very charming, social guy who loves company and a good time. His smooth talk and Southern charm know how to keep a conversation going, and he’s generally a pretty laid back guy who doesn’t go looking for trouble. Usually. When he does find himself in trouble, if he can’t talk his way out of it, he’ll try and buy his way out of it. Everybody has a price, after all.
Jericho is a simple cowboy from Texas, simple meaning he isn’t too bright. He doesn’t often think about long term consequences and often does whatever his fickle whimsy decides on at that given moment. He’s spoiled and used to having his way, which often results in him having spells of pouting or isolating himself when things don’t go as planned. It takes a lot to get him angry, but he can be rather impatient and hates waiting on anything. He doesn’t apply himself; he takes on different hobbies and talents, but doesn’t see them through, leaving him with a bunch of half-baked abilities.
While Jericho can seem charming and compassionate, in the end he’s all about what’s best for him. He’s selfish, and doesn’t often put others before him, so though it may seem like he’s being a nice guy, he always has ulterior motives. Very lazy, he doesn’t like to work, and would much rather things be handed to him. Hobbies/ Interests: Flirting, Drinking, Anything Mechanical Job or part time job and description: Odd jobs at his uncle’s bar Fears/ phobias/ concerns: He’s afraid of Bugs, Being alone, and he doesn’t like responsibility Special talents: He’s a decent singer, and not a bad mechanic if he could be bothered to actually get to work. Fiddles with a number of stringed acoustic instruments from guitar to banjo to violin. Other half-baked talents include weaving, sewing, underwater welding, and photography.
Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Neutral Evil: He can come across as a good, albeit dense fellow but in the end, he’s only out for himself.
Mutations
Mutation description:Bovine Shifter: Jericho can shift into any member of the bovine family that he’s seen in person, including but not limited to cows, antelope, goats, and oxen. While in shift, he has the appearance and traits of his shift, but retains the ability to communicate, which he does via a very limited telepathy.
The shifting process shows his body twisting and morphing into the bovine of choice, and roughly takes a minute. He can shift clothing, but more often than not opts to at least shift without a shirt. Any minor injuries he sustains in shift do not transfer to his human shift, and vice versa, but anything requiring stitches, a cast or something similar do not simply shift away. Strengths: Can somewhat be used to hide, though the real utility is calling on the strength of a bull or an ox, or the grace of a goat in a pinch. His shifting allows him to recover from the many minor scrapes and bruises he may get, while the limited telepathy allows him to talk to those he sees fit. Weaknesses and Limitations: He has to have seen the animal in person, and he is limited to the bovine family. If he dies in shift, that’s it. The telepathy is limited to a range where the recipient can hear a normal speaking voice, nothing more. They would hear his voice in their head, but they will have to reply verbally.
Shifting takes roughly sixty seconds, and leaves him vulnerable during this time frame. He can stay in shift as long as he wants, but the process of shifting always leaves him hungry afterwards. Shifting more than three times(both ways) in succession leaves him sore and somewhat lethargic.
Physical Abilities
General Physical Capabilities: Jericho has the strength and stamina that comes with growing up on a ranch, and he’s pretty fast and athletic. His flexibility leaves much to be desired. Fighting Style: Jericho has no formal training, but he can hold his own in a fight. His style consists of striking and attempting to ground/knock out the opponent, though he’s not above fighting dirty. Fighting Style Pros/Cons: Pros: Tries to end the fight quickly, good on his feet and can land a solid punch. Cons: No formal training, gets more impatient the longer the fight goes on.
History Of Your Character Jericho was born to Doug Harrison Archer III and Madison Archer. He was the middle child, with two sisters, Madison, who was two years older, and Ana who would be born two years later. Jericho was born into money; his family had owned a ranch in Texas for generations where they raised cattle, butchered cattle, housed horses, and even hosted exotic animals to hunt. As such, there was always work to do, and Jericho learned the trade from an early age. But he didn’t like it.
He and his sisters went to a big private school, but Jericho never applied himself, and was prone to acting out for attention. He got used to being practically handed everything at home, and as such grew to expect it everywhere else. All he was really expected to do was help around the ranch.
At age twelve, he was out taking care of the cows, when suddenly his body felt strange and he started to change. In roughly a minute, he was the prize bull, Brutus. Over time he would learn that he could shift into more than just cows, and his powers extended to Bovines in general. This was a power he generally kept secret, though he did start trying to pay more attention when it came to biology and animal classification. (Though he never was able to figure out how, if a manatee is called a ‘sea cow’, why can’t he turn into one?) But he was able to get a goat, sheep, antelope, oxen, and even a buffalo.
As he got older, his shifting became just something he did for fun, not really flashing it, because it was much cooler to do things like weld, play guitar, or carve things from wood; all of these things he took up, but gave up on after awhile, never becoming better than ‘average.’ After he graduated high school, he stayed around the house, not really doing much outside of the minimum amount of work and bringing ‘company’ home.
His dad finally got sick of this and sent Jericho to work for his brother Frank at his bar in New York. He hoped that this would teach his only son some responsibility, but who’s to say city life won’t corrupt the ‘cowboy’ even farther?
Roleplay What’s your OOC alias?: Fishy Where did you learn about this site?: Google Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Ty, Skye, Beau, Addy Sample RP:
Jericho let out a sigh, adjusting his cowboy hat as his hair flowed freely in the bitter wind, too long to be protected. Hands were stuffed into the pockets of a denim jacket, a flannel shirt peeking out from underneath, and a large belt buckle sporting a cow skull was hiding underneath the flannel. His jeans looked brand new as expensive black cowboy boots strolled down the sidewalk. He hated New York already; he’d gotten some snow back home in Texas, but this was ridiculous. Between the cold, and all the people, he was done already, and it hadn’t even been a week.
Oh hey….maybe it won’t be so bad.
His eyes twinkled and he smiled as he saw a pretty redhead walking toward him. She smiled back, and he even felt her hand pat his butt as she walked by. He smiled wider, looking back to see her keep walking. Then for some reason, he patted his back pocket. “Wait just a damn minute…” he grumbled as he turned and ran down the sidewalk after the pretty little demon that had just stolen his wallet. His boot slipped on a patch of ice and he found himself lying on the ground, his cowboy hat lying a foot or so away from him.
