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.
"I managed to get away... Scott wasn't so lucky." The woman beside her fell silent for a short time, nodding her head when words failed her. Megan's eyes drifted over to her, away from the punishment the Judge was inflicting upon Johnny. Miranda had always been a talkative, friendly one. In her late thirties, she'd lost a husband and two children in the shock wave that had torn the city down. She'd dealt with the pain by helping others, and had been one of the first long term nurses at the camp, before Megan had even stumbled across it. She made everyone feel welcome... she made people feel comfortable, happy, and safe.
The thought that she'd nearly ended up being sold somewhere like a piece of meat made Megan's insides clench, and she felt more than a little sick.
"I'm glad you got away... You came to find us, after all. You brought--" Miranda glanced over at the Judge and Johnny, and shuddered involuntarily. An action Megan managed not to miss. "..um... you brought your friend with you, and saved all of our hides." She tried to pin a winning smile on her lips, but even through the haze of emotions and splintered nerves, Megan could tell it was fake. A smiled that matched her own, sported purely to put others at ease. "Once we get back to camp, everything will be alright... you'll see. We'll start over again, move somewhere safer..."
Megan frowned, and looked away. Once they got back to camp...? Was there even a camp left too return to?
Clouded over, Icy eyes watched as Johnny's last leg was broken, and her companion lifted him to strike the killing blow. She didn't want to watch, not really... but couldn't have removed her eyes even if she tried. Well, at least not without some help. Miranda's fingers curled gently around her injured arm, earning a flinch from Megan, and drew her attention back to her. She met large brown eyes, filled with worry, and her frown deepened.
"...You...are coming back with us, right?... Megan...?"
Sh*t. She didn't know the answer to that question... not anymore. Miranda's eyes drilled into her, searching for something that wasn't there anymore. Her attention was pulled away again as the small gathered crowd grew suddenly silent, and when she glanced back toward where her companion had been, she found him directly in front of her. A heavy blade was dropped into her hand, and with it, two words that chilled her to the bone.
"Kill him."
Miranda went ridged beside her and the grip on her injured arm tightened. Squeezing her eyes shut against the pain, she worked to free herself from the woman without stressing the wound further. Johnny watched her like a hawk the whole time, unable to move from the slumped over crouch he had been left in. She could feel anger radiating off of him, anger, shame, and fear. She knew what this was... What it was meant to be. But... could she do it? She'd taken lives before, sure... but nearly all of them had been on accident, and in self defense. She'd never killed someone outright who was unable to defend himself.
"Megan... don't..." Miranda's voice sounded distant to her, and in a way it was. She was reflecting on everything that had happened. The boy, the other women... Every single man who'd lost his life trying to defend the camp. She knew the Judge could kill him.. it was his self appointed duty. She even knew that some of the other people gathered would more than willingly step in and do the job themselves.
"...Megan, please... let someone else do it." Miranda again... tugging at her, trying to get her attention.
If not her, who else? Who would have to step forward and dirty their soul doing this? Megan focused on the blade in her hand, crusted with old and fresh blood alike, and closed her eyes. She couldn't let someone else do it. She couldn't run away from this... this task, and let it fall on someone else's shoulders. That was all she'd ever done in the past, and nothing good had come from it. "Miranda..." Megan missed the sudden hope that bloomed on the woman's face. "...When you leave here, don't go back to the campsite. You need to get everyone someplace safe. Remember that town we kept hearing about? Go there..." Turning finally, guilt written clearly in her expression, Megan avoided making direct eye contact with the woman. "...I won't be coming with. I need to try and fix this... Stop things like this from happening again, to other people." The silence was killing her... It made her skin itch. The fact that Miranda said not a single word back made her feel even worse, as if she'd betrayed the woman somehow.
"Get the kid's out of here... they don't need to see this." Turning her back on the woman, and in a way the rest of the people she'd kind of grown to consider family, the twenty six year old swallowed as much uncertainty as she could. It was a short walk to where Johnny sat, a crumpled shell of the beast he'd once claimed to be. He didn't look at her once as she approached, instead choosing to keep his eyes locked on the dirt under him.
Megan paused before him, her features devoid of expression, and raised her good arm high...
***
Miranda had done as she'd asked, at least. The children were gone long before she'd dealt the first blow, as well as a handful of women with weaker stomachs. The rest that had stayed whispered quietly to themselves as they shuffled around Johnny's body. Megan hadn't moved from where she'd been standing. The blade she'd been given hung at her side, and her eyes hadn't moved from the corpse before her. She was speckled and splashed with blood from head to toe... and felt nothing but dirty. She wanted a shower... needed a shower.
"Ya did the right thing, Meg.... That bastard deserved every single whack." The older woman to her left scowled at the body and spat upon it. The spider mutant paid her no attention. She'd always been one to believe in revenge in the past. An eye for an eye and all that jazz. But... those kind of feelings felt foreign to her now. "...Where are we gonna go now?" She didn't know if he was listening to her, of if he could even here her question, but she asked it anyway. She wasn't going back with the others... she'd willingly abandoned them for... whatever this was... but she had no idea what was supposed to come next.
She didn't follow right away... partly because she stumbled across her cloths and belongings piled in the room just outside the door, and partly because the Judge's words had stung. But... he was right. She'd always been one for impulses. Just do whatever pops into your head, whenever, no matter the consequences. Back at the camp, though, she hadn't needed that. She had a routine to follow, orders to keep in mind, and people who needed her help. She couldn't afford to run off on a whim.
But... for just a moment, she'd felt like her old self. Cocky, arrogant. The world couldn't hold her back, and no one could take her down. Yeah... she'd screwed up big time. He was right, and she knew it. She was going to have to work really hard on leaving the old her behind, now that everything was changing. She'd have to adapt to the situation, find common ground between the two halves of herself battling for control. Megan the mischief maker, who never listened to anyone but herself, or Megan the nurse maid, who patiently waited for hours by peoples sides to keep them at ease.
It was going to be a real b!$@h, but it would need to be done.
Swallowing her pride, she dressed herself as best she could with one arm, secured her pack over her uninjured shoulder, and tucked her knife back into her belt. Then she climbed the stairs, awkwardly hauled herself outside, and started toward where her spiders were telling her to go. She joined the party just in time to hear her companion echo the words Johnny had said to her right back at him. It didn't bring a smile to her face, as she wold have once expected. Instead, she joined the front of the gathered crowd. Many would have recognized her, if they hadn't been staring at the scene before them in a horrified manner. Well, some anyway. Others were watching intently, fully satisfied with how things had turned out in the end.
"...Megan?"
She didn't turn her eyes away from what was going on before her when the questioning voice popped up beside her. The terrible pain radiating through her shoulder and arm were enough to keep her focused on Johnny's punishment. But, that didn't stop her from nodding her chin slightly to let the woman know she'd heard her.
"We... We though you were dead... we saw them take you away after you showed up..." She felt the woman lay a hand on her back, and finally pried her attention away, shifting it to the owner of the voice. "I'm fine, Miranda... " The woman didn't seem to believe her, considering that she tried to turn Megan around to face her. "... We didn't see you when we all got captured... we all just figured that you'd been one of the people standing up to them."
The twenty six years old's eyes returned to the Judge, and she frowned. She didn't think telling Miranda that she'd run off on the promise that some strange man would help her save them all would make her feel any better, even if he'd turned out to be the Judge.
Jesus... she really, really, really didn't want to die from being buried and crushed under an entire building. All possible reasons and theories as to what was happening flew in and out of her head in an instant. She was left with a foreign silence inside, the same she felt when she had no spiders around her. Then she heard swearing, and crunching feet on glass heading toward her, and lifted her head a little. Shards like little razors cascaded down from her hair, and for a moment she panicked again. Vicente hauled her quickly to her feet, then just as quickly onto his shoulder.
As he sped back toward the bedroom, her eyes were fixed on the view outside. The glow... unearthly and unnatural. The first thing that came to mind was a bomb... and if that was the case, the whole city would crumble. For the first time in a long while. Megan felt her insides clench.... She didn't want to die... not like this. She'd just started to piece her life back together, and... and now...?
As she was hauled back into the darkness of the bedroom, a terrible trembling started up again. Hard enough to rattle pictures on the walls, and cause anything on top of shelves or tables to toppled off. The twenty five year old squeezed her eyes shut, throwing her arms back over her head, and whimpered. This... this wasn't something she could fight against. She couldn't kick, or scream, or bite, or curse loud enough at whatever was happening to make it stop. She felt helpless... and terrified.
While she was trying to figure out how people forced bones back into sockets on their own, the heavy metal door to the room swung open. Abandoning her task, she picked up her makeshift weapon and hauled herself off to the side and into a corner, until the door partially covered her from view. She was willing to bet that whoever was entering the room wouldn't be too happy with seeing their boss on the floor. Fortunately, however, luck was on her side for once.
One boot-clad foot stepped into view, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. It was the Judge, not some other raider jerk. Wincing, she forced herself to her feet, taking care not to jostle her arm too much in the process, and stepped out from behind her poor cover. He'd probably already known she was back there, anyway.
"You've got no idea how happy I am to see you..." Relief washed through her, leaving her feeling drained and tired. Even when Johnny started to come too, having the masked man around lifted a terrible weight off of her shoulders.
....the guys short, muttered threats however, still earned a cringe from her, and a shudder. He was a real piece of work, wasn't he?
"Are you alright?" She nodded despite herself, one hand clutched in place over her shoulder. The only visible injuries on her were a bruised and swelling chin and lip. "I've been worse..." She muttered back, her eyes never leaving Johnny as he groaned and clutched his face on the floor. "Seventeen other girls didn't fare as well as I, though... according to him." She nodded her chin at him, and pushed herself away from the wall. The spider she'd left on the Judge's shoulder whispered to her silently, informing her of just who the man was. He was the boss of the group, yeah.. she already new that. But he was also the man who'd mercilessly killed the little boy.
"...The bastard killed Tommy... and god only know's how many others." She paused momentarily, her eyes finally leaving the man who'd beaten her quite soundly. "Are... are the others alright out there?"
Well... Apartment hunting had turned out unexpectedly well.
In the span of a few hours, she'd managed to track down not only an apartment, but also a roommate to share the space with. Said roommate was...er... a little shady, at best... but Megan didn't really pay that much mind. Considering the fact that she was basically being allowed to move into the loft without having to sign any papers, or submit any kind of down payment, she was more than happy.
...It also helped that the place was Huuuuuge.
She'd been expecting an average sized apartment of some sort, but when she was led to an old rickety maintenance elevator, and then up to the tippy top of a large building, she was floored by the sheer size of the apartment. The girl she was soon to move in with was a budding artist, not the paint-y kind either, the blow torch and metal parts kind. She needed a lot of space to store away various crafts and projects. Megan could sympathize, seeing as the space she had back home in which to cram a both of her looms, her sewing machine, and all of her silk and supplies was quickly dwindling.
This place though... she had a spare room all to herself for working in, as well as a cozy little bedroom up above the main floor. Her bathroom was large enough for a her to drag a metal tub in, which would make dying her cloth easier than trying to stuff everything into a bathtub. Aside from all of the room she'd have, the rest of the place was so open that you could literally see from one end of the apartment all the way to the other. The only walls she'd managed to find were connected to the kitchen, and the ones that kept the bathrooms private.
"Wow... this place is... wow."
Rachel, the woman she was about to move in with, chuckled. "Yeah, I thought that too when I first moved in. But then you cram all of your crap in, and it's suddenly a lot smaller." She waved a hand absently and wandered off toward the sprawling living room. Megan grinned, and followed without a word. If there was one thing she'd noticed about Rachel right away, it was her attitude. Also, the fact that she apparently liked her privacy, to the point of being hostile. That was just great, though, considering that Megan had a similar sentiment. The whole 'You mind your business, I'll mind mind' would work wonders for her.
"So... how soon can you move in?" Megan plopped herself down on the couch, and crossed her legs. "....Well, anytime, really. I've already got everything packed up and ready to move... just needed to find a place." She reflected back to having met Rachel only hours ago, while the woman had been stapling 'roommate wanted' posted onto light poles around the city. After a brief, slightly tense introduction, they'd wandered off to sit in a coffee shop and chat. Megan had found out about the woman's artistic background, as well as her love for getting into trouble and throwing elaborate parties with all of her tattooed artist friends. Rachel had then learned about Megan's own love for parties, and her work as a "fledgling designer". Which, Megan felt, explained why she needed a room to stuff all of her fabric and sewing materials into, without blatantly exclaiming that she was making armor for a lot of people.
"Well then, how about we head over to this apartment of yours and get your stuff? I'll call a few buddies of mine, and then we can have a party tonight to get you settled into the house.. yes?"
Megan grinned, intertwining her fingers behind her head. "Sounds like a plan to me, Roomie!"
His story was... a lot less wordy. Megan felt her face heat up, and fiddled with her hair absently. It was getting long... too long. She mentally berated herself for letting it grow out, while grumbling to herself about how she'd went and blabbed about things she shouldn't have. The vast differences between herself and him were suddenly blatantly obvious, and she felt silly for even attempting conversation. Of course he'd have a background starkly different than her own, what had she expected?
...well, actually, she knew what she'd expected. Some fanciful tale of some sort. Her inner gossip monger was rearing it's ugly head, and she full well knew it.
The sirens racing past somewhere down below caught her attention, and she fidgeted. Now was as good a time as any to cut her losses and run. "I'd better go... Traffic is already probably going to be a b*tch." Yes... blame the sirens, slip from bed and try not to run for the front door. She was at least glad that the lack of light in the room managed to cover her frustrated blush.
With a practiced ease, she tracked her clothing down and slipped it all back on. Once her shoes were on her feet, she headed for the bedroom door and quietly let herself out. As she passed by the living room, however... she felt an odd tremor run through the floor and up her legs. Her first thought was of course an earth quake. Blue eyes pointed out the large window, she watched the city lights flicker, and felt a ball of fear gather in her throat. Good god, she really didn't want to be trapped up as high as she was in the middle of an earth quake!
As she turned to take a step past the couch, another, bigger, building shaking tremor shook the apartment. She turned her attention away from the front door, toward a hallway, just in time for the entire building to shudder violently, and the living room widows to blow inward. Glass pelted the floor and walls, peppering the furniture as it embedded itself in damn near everything. Megan shrieked, managing to avoid being stabbed to death by flying glass only because she instantly dropped to the floor and covered her head.
“At death, his soul, his…essence…would be shaped into that of a hummingbird. And with other fallen warriors, he would then follow the path to the sun and finally live amongst the stars in the upper plane. He earned that.”
She smirked halfheartedly. Greg had never been much of a follower, in the time that she'd known him.... but she wondered if he'd jump at the chance to be a humming bird... even if in some sort of spirit form. Her Roach would probably also love being on the 'upper plane' the assassin spoke of. She could see him now, gracefully backstroking through the constellations....
“The sun goes through a cycle of rebirth, every day, Some of those souls are granted the same. Maybe your…Gregory…will eventually find his way back.”
There was... something poetic about the way he spoke. It was less aggressive than all of the modern day religious gibber-jabber she'd ever heard in her life... and strangely less crazy. "...I think he'd like that." She mused, finally prying her eyes away from the man, since he'd answered the question that had been nagging her for the better part of an hour. Turning, she pushed herself up and sat cross legged on the bed, covering herself with the sheet.
It was... mostly the truth, what she'd replied with. Though, it was probably more the journey that she could see him enjoying, rather than the entirety of the whole thing. Greg was too chaotic, in her opinion, too remain in one place, doing one thing for too long. She'd often wondered why exactly he hadn't gotten bored of having her around, considering they spent so much time together. It was just another quirk of his that always managed to mystify her.
"...I grew up in a Mormon house hold..." She muttered again quietly. "My parents weren't really strict, but they were definitely devout... I got baptized when I was two weeks old, put into religious schools with my sister and brother, and dragged along to church every chance they got. Every Sunday was family day... where we'd all stay home, turn off the TV and play board games until it was time for dinner." A genuine smile settled on her lips, and she sighed. "Those were some of the best years of my life. I was one of the happiest kids in the world, so long as I had a scheduled to follow and someone to hold my hand." But... then everything had changed. "Then I got older though... and started thinking things through. Why did I go to church? Why did I listen to grown ass men preaching about how they spoke to god the night before?... I started realizing that everything around me was... really silly. People that i'd grown up with would cross themselves when someone with a tattoo walked by, but think nothing of going under a knife to get the double D's they'd been saving up for."
It had always irked her to no end how people could blindly follow something, not bothering to ask any questions, and yet partake in things that went completely against their faith. "I started to see that the friends I had were complete biggots, and that the members of my church were egotistical jerks who wouldn't bat an eye at some poor sob dying in the gutter, unless it somehow made them look better." A bitterness crept into her tone without her realizing, and she continued on. "When I dropped the church.. or, rather, was excommunicated, I was told by the priest that I was going straight to hell. They even threatened to toss the rest of my family out of the church with me... but didn't really have the wind to back it up." Her mother had been red in the face with rage, one of the only times Megan had seen her truly angry, when she'd found out what happened. Of course, it hadn't changed the fact that Megan was no longer part of the church community, but the rest of her family had maintained their various positions.
"... I wish sometimes that i'd grown up with something less hateful... because I remember having something to believe in being really... comforting... even if I was doing it wrong at the time." Shifting slightly, she glanced over at him, a little embarrassed at her long winded statement. (which was also a more than a little random, and unneeded. Quick! Come up with something to tie it all together!)
"... What was it like for you...?" She wondered if he'd answer... considering that it was a rather personal question. But, even in the event that he just gruffly barked at her to shut up, or leave even, she at least felt a little better about what had originally been bothering her.
Hours later, Megan found herself curled up under a blanket with a pillow clutched in her arms, peeking up over the soft, fluffy fabric to stare blatantly (and maybe a little vacantly) at the Assassin. She was sleepy, had yawned more than once, and was in a rather pleasant mental state of not-giving-a-damn.
Her mind had started to wander off without her realizing, and pretty soon she was lost in a void filled with not so distant memories. Some good... most of them bad. She thought fondly, er...well.. as fondly as she could manage, about having woken up on a couch in one of Vicente's safe houses. Tucked under a warm blanket... but still in a sh*t ton of pain from a fractured rib. She thought back to the trip she'd made to the hospital, the nice mutant lady who'd all but healed her injury (without asking any questions, even!), and then... the trip back home...
Her empty apartment. No singing... no hat-less cockroach frolicking. No breaking in door while she was trying to nap, or working. No... No watching old movies and quoting the actors line for line.
She managed to keep tears away, even though she could feel them hot and frustrated behind her eyes... and sank into the pillow more. In the time that had passes since--... since that day... she'd fought tooth and nail to keep herself from dwelling on it. Roach was gone... he was never coming back, and she would just have to deal with it. Like it or not.
Still, it managed to weigh heavily on her. He'd come to save her... burst into the church with such an air of confidence around him that she'd fully expected him to rip Trent to shreds before her very eyes. But then... then Trent had laid a hand on him, and he'd just... just fallen apart. She hadn't even realized that his shell had been hard enough for Trent's mutation to affect it.
Sucking in a shallow breath, she held it for a moment before letting it slowly out. She'd killed a ghost from her past that day... lured him in and kissed him... then latched on and forced as many spiders down his throat as she could manage. She could see his expression clearly; betrayal. Pure betrayal... and maybe even a little heart break.
"...Vicente...?" She didn't know why she was talking, really.. or if he was even paying attention to her. It wouldn't surprise her at all if he wasn't. "...What would have happened to Gregory.. after he died, according to your religion... ?" Maybe she was fishing for comfort, and that was why she found herself asking about things she normally didn't care for.
But... maybe she also didn't care anymore. Pain was pain, one way or another. If anything could lessen it, even in the slightest, she was more than willing to try.
She shot a cocky grin back at Ami, and left it at that. With stretching complete, the class gathered once more, instructed by the newly introduced Quin to make space for each other to work. No unexpected accidental punches to the face in this class, no sirree.
Megan's attitude shifted when Quin started to explain what they were here for, and within minutes she was hooked. A form of self defense meant specifically for those physically at a disadvantage. Now, while Megan wasn't one to ever admit that she was weaker than anyone else, and considering that she was taller than normal for a woman and could pack a decent punch, she was readily willing to admit that any knowledge was better than no knowledge at all. If she could learn how to knock someone's teeth out using his own strength against him? Why not! She loved the very idea of that!
The chatter cut down as the class started, and for once the twenty six year old managed to take something seriously. Each step by step instruction was given her full attention, even though she could still hear snarky comments and quotes from movies bouncing around in her mind, she kept her lips zipped. After a while, she didn't even feel like a complete mess either! Quin's method of teaching was perfect for someone like Megan, who had a habit of getting bored and wandering off mid lecture back in high school. This, though... felt right. She was learning something, practicing it with other people, and... surprisingly felt like it was something she'd manage to get good at.
Half way through the class, she'd glanced over to see how Ami was doing, before going back to her own thing. Time just seemed to fly by on it's own accord, and before she knew it the class was over. It left her feeling energized, a little sore from stretching and working muscles that she'd neglected for too long. She was also a teeny bit disappointed that it was over. While other people filed out of the room, chatting among themselves, Megan waited with Ami. Not normally being one for handing out words of praise, she managed as polite thank you for the classes instructor, before following her companion out.
"That... was surprisingly a lot of fun! I'd always imagined classes like that being stuffed full of sweaty old people.."
A knife was passed back... small, sharp, and yet dainty. The girl stared at it for a moment, her movement's unsure, until she realized that neither of the woman who'd run in out of nowhere were looking her way. It seemed like the boys were also aiming their attention somewhere else for the moment. A small smirk flashed across her lips, there and gone in an instant, and she expertly flipped the pocket knife open...
Megan dove forward the moment Allison sprang into action. She chose to hawk a glob of spit webbing across a closing gap between herself and the male she'd chosen to bum rush. The blob connected solidly with his cheek, earning first a recoil of disgust and then one of mild panic when he realized that it wouldn't come off. She closed the gap between them, her knife already in hand, and thrust it toward him. He narrowly avoided being shanked cleanly in the gut by dodging to the side at the last minute.
..but, she'd sliced clean through his shirt. With a slapped together string of profanities that would make any grandma's ears bleed, he stepped back and allowed another boy to charge at Megan while he tried to pry her silk from his face.
Megan staggered back a few steps, nearly tripping off the edge of the curb, but managed to avoid a few swings the new kid sent her way. "Is that all you've got? Come on... I could run circles around you all-" She narrowly avoided a heavy fist swung from the right, but tried not to let the close call ruin her boasting, "-day!"
The twenty six year old lashed out with a leg as the over zealous kid kept swinging, and tried to scoop him off his feet. The trick half worked, ending with him stumbling to the side while she reached back into her hood and latched onto a handful of spiders. When the guy managed to catch his balance and turn back to her, he was greeted to said handful of arachnids flying into his face. With a shriek that could rival a little girls, the kid began to smack and claw at his clothing while her children skittered all over him, ducking into the dark, open spaces of his clothing.
An arm flashed out of seemingly nowhere before she could press another attack, and Megan suddenly found someone trying to lock her into a choke hold. She only barely managed to get her own arm up in time to stop the guy from fully clamping down on her neck. From the corner of her eyes she spotted who it was, the guy she'd spit at, who was now lacking a patch of beard, side burn, and a little bit of eyebrow.
Off to the side, the un-named girl with Allison's knife decided to join the fight... but, not before she had fished out a cellphone and tapped a few buttons. With a secret message then sent, the phone was tucked back into place, and she introduced herself to the battle by rushing forward and barreling into the nearest male. When she stepped back, her borrowed knife glinted red...
Johnny recoiled, giving her just enough time to crank her leg back and plant it in his stomach. It didn't phase him as much as she'd have liked it too, considering all it earned her was an Oof! and a growl. But matched with the fact that he was struggling to remove her silk from his nose and eyes where it had splattered rather nicely, he was having a hard time keeping control of the situation. Not wanting to waste a single precious second, Megan threw herself off of the bed. One of the many candle stands scattered throughout the room was snatched up and instantly became a weapon. Though the length of metal wasn't all that heavy, it still packed a satisfying about of force behind it when she spun and swung it at him like a baseball bat.
Her weapon bent slightly from the impact, jarring her arm as well, but Johnny dropped from the edge of the bed onto the floor and Megan was on him instantly. She swung repeatedly, dragging her weapon up above her head in an arc with each attack. Her target... her attacker, barely made a sound as she rained down blows on him savagely. Curses, however, definitely left his lips.
She wasn't sure if her blows would be enough to injure him permanently, or kill him for that matter, but she couldn't stop. Each swing was powered by anger and fear. Johnny was no longer Johnny, but a man with cruel hands who sifted through her nightmares. So intent on hurting him was she, that she didn't notice when she scored a good hit on him, and just kept going. Johnny was out like a light, unable to react to the pain she inflicted upon in her barrage of blows.
It wasn't until her arm started to protest against lifting the candle stand again, that she ceased. Her whole body shook from the effort and adrenaline. The twenty eight year old struggled to catch her breath, her face flushed red from overexertion, and staggered back a few steps before collapsing onto her rear. Once she was seated she was able to think a little more clearly... she also spotted a peppering of little red flecks that now adorned her legs and stomach. Blood from the many gashes she'd beaten into Johnny. Her eyes focused back on the man, who wasn't the demon she'd envisioned him to be. He was just some A-hole who liked to hold power over everyone....
Warm tears blurred her sight momentarily, and with her makeshift weapon settled in her lap, she scooted back until she could rest against the wall. She was unsure as to where exactly she'd been taken, figuring that it couldn't have been too far away from the main camp, but knew that without her clothes and her knife she'd need to stay put for a while. Especially with a painful, nagging injury. She'd never had anything knocked out of socket before... So she didn't exactly know how to treat it, or what not. Putting pressure on it relieved some of the pain, and she knew that with enough force you could pop it back in place.. but.. she wasn't sure if she'd manage to do that.
One glance over at Johnny's still form, however, brought back the reality of the situation. If he woke up and she was still around, he'd be pissed...
Gritting her teeth, Megan turned herself to align her shoulder with the wall... took a deep, shaky breath... and threw herself against it with all of the strength she could muster.
"M@% @%^#&*$# SON OF A #%^@& HORSE @^%$ $#%^@*&$%!!"
Well... that hadn't worked!... And now she was crying, too!
The nineteen year old stood as if he'd been commanded, his heart thudding away inside his chest. There was a hero standing before him! He needed to be respectful!... Wait... what had he said?
Patric snapped himself out of a daze and frowned. She? There were plenty of women who'd gone missing, but the image of the strange looking woman from before sprang to mind. She'd probably been a partner of some kind... though, he had no way of being certain. "If you're looking for the black haired woman, in the blood stained tank top... they grabbed her a little while ago. Took her to see their leader over on the other side of the main fire." The kid pointed, his expression sad and serious. If the lady was with the masked man, well... the he honestly didn't know what to tell him. "If they took her where they took a few of the other girls... I don't know if she'll be comin' back, sir."
His father stood at his side, shakily, one side of his face all bandaged up. He clapped a hand on his son's shoulder, eyes fixed on the imposing figure of the Judge, and nodded respectively. "If you don't mind... we're going to get these people out of here while we have the chance." Patrick watched his dad turn and start to round the others up, before turning his eyes back to the man who'd more or less just saved all of their hides.
"...Thanks... Really. I hope you know that I never believed an ill word that was said against you, before... before all of this." The kids eyes hardened for a moment, and he held his chin high. "I knew you were doin' good, out there fixing problems that other people choose to ignore. You're a real hero..."
***
An iron grip latched around her ankle before she made it all of the way under and with a yank he dragged her back out. Megan grunted and turned as best she could, angling a kick his way. She hoped her legs were long enough to reach him so she could plant her foot in his stomach. Johnny easily batted her attack aside, hauling her across the floor until she wasn't even able to cling to the bed frame, then let her ankle loose and moved to step over her.
Megan tried to wiggle away again by flopping onto her belly, but before she could find a place to latch on and pull herself out of harms way, he had a grip on one of her arms. He was easily able to overpower her and crank the arm back, with a twist he had it effectively pinned behind her. All of the clawing, kicking, and wriggling in the world didn't help her escape... but after a few moments of her thrashing against him, he seemed to grow either bored, or irritated with her struggles.
"This is my favorite part, you know." He started, almost purring at her. "When they struggle so desperately." She could feel him re-positioning himself, his weight lifting off of her temporarily. Then she felt a foot drop down between her shoulder blades, with enough force that her back popped and she grunted in pain. "But... then it get's kind of stale. You can only kick, scratch, and bite so many times before it's boring." With the pressure of his foot holding her down against the floor, he let up on her twisted arm. The grip tightened around her wrist as he forced her to extend it backwards, pulling her arm out toward him. She was forced to turn slightly with the action, and caught sight of the malicious gleam in his eyes.
"That's why I like to add a little excitement in every now and then... you know, spice things up!" As the last word left his tongue, she felt him tense. A second later and he yanked back on her arm, hard enough to pop it clean out of place. The scream that ripped from her throat was only obscured by the growing ball of silk within her mouth... but it was still enough to make the man grin wickedly. Johnny dropped the now useless appendage and bent to grab her tightly by the back of the neck, lifting her like a naughty kitten and tossing onto the bed. Another cry spilled forth when she landed on her injury, and he advanced once more. In a fit of desperation Megan lashed out at one of the burning candles beside the bed. She swatted the thing at him, sending a spray of hot wax in his face, then rolled over and attempted to flee to the other side of the room.
... She didn't make it far before he grabbed and spun her back around, then popped her swiftly in the jaw with a tightly curled fist. She saw stars for a moment, only a moment, and responded by hawking a sticky ball of silk straight into his looming face.
The POP POP of gun shots broke the tense silence that had befallen the group. One man was hit, one of the raider captors, and Patrick saw his chance to move. In an instant he'd jumped to his feet, neatly leaping over the two people cowering in front of him. The newly sharpened point of a toothbrush handle was barely visible in his hand as he darted forward behind where Harry stood, and drove the improvised knife into the man's neck from behind. Harry had been too distracted trying to pinpoint the source of the gunshots that felled the man beside him, letting loose a spattering of bullets. The sudden blinding pain that peppered his neck and shoulder as Patrick attacked forced a strangled gasp from him, before he dropped to his knees and plopped face first into the dirt.
Patrick blended back into the group before Harry even fell, his weapon tucked up into the sleeve of his long shirt. Though there was blood on his hand, once he crouched again it was easily hidden from searching eyes. The smirk on his lips, however, was left wide out in the open for all to see.
Clive turned as the echos of gunfire slowly quieted, first to see that Harry had been taken out, and then to spot the other kid that had been felled. The last guard, who wielded only a rusty machete, was frozen on the spot. The wide eyes and slacken jaw were both clear signs that he'd been caught off guard by the swift, violent attack... and the dark stain that now adorned the inner side of one pant leg spoke volumes about how terrified he was. One word from Clive, though, and the guy attempted to pull himself together.
***
With her air supply suddenly cut off, Megan was finding it hard to fight. Though her knuckles were hurting from discovering that the guy was wearing a cup, it didn't stop her from attempting to punch him again... and again... and again. By the time her lungs were burning, desperate for air, and she was gasping, she'd already managed to split open the skin of one fist. The other hand was busy trying in vein to push the knee away from her throat, to clear her air way again so she could get a breath. Her feet lashed out at his ankles and shins, and for a moment, panic set in. She could clearly remember the last time someone had done this to her... Put his hands around her throat and squeezed until spots were dancing before her eyes and it felt like she was drifting off into a strange numb sleep.
For a moment she was absolutely sure that it was going to happen again, with her eyes squeezed shut and the hands being replaced by some douches kneecap. But, just when it started to feel like her lungs were on fire, the pressure backed off. Instantly she toppled over to the side, one hand at her throat as she coughed and gasped for air. Johnny wasn't about to let her collect herself, however, as his hand fisted in her hair and she was jerked away from the wall.
In once smooth, almost effortless motion, he sent her flying back toward the bed. Her forehead connected solidly with the thick wood and metal frame, which drew a muttered curse from her lips. She could feel him closing back in on her, and ducked. It only took a second to notice that there was just enough room between the bed and the floor for her to wiggle under, and she didn't waste a moment before trying to squeeze herself in. With her lips firmly closed, she could feel web building up in her mouth. A last ditch tactic she'd use against him, if she was given the chance.
Sooo! I've been thinking and thinking about who it is I would like to nominate this month. I took a long, meaningful journey of discovery, met some monks, danced a few interpretative dances, and found inner peace.
...and then it hit me! I knew who I wanted to nominate!
Seyta! Our most favorite, loveable cbox-pants-stealing mutant!
She's been through the transformation from woman to chibi, in 'Hide and seek isn't fun...'. Kid!Seyta comes face to face with the realization that she'd not in Kansas anymore, toto, but thankfully there's a kindly Sledge around to help her out!
Then there's 'Just dance', In which she pulls the three strikes card on Sledge, and things get interesting. I gotta say, I love how sharp she comes across all the way through the interaction~
And last, but not least; 'The Invisible Artist' Set in the Age of Sebastion plot line, in which she sets about hilariously embarrassing her pit opponent; much to the joy of the crowd and one enthusiastic cockroach.
All together, I believe that Seyta has earned a nomination. Both in character and in cbox, he's a hoot to have around, and is a constant source of both entertainment and information. While I may not be the most eloquent or word friendly nominator, I hope I've managed to bring to light what a wonderful, creative character Seyta is!
Her eyes darted behind her quickly, widening a fraction at what she saw, before she pinned them back on the guy. This game he was playing... she apparently wasn't the first victim. The way he spoke about it, like it was a game that he just loved playing, made her stomach flip-flop. What had she gotten herself into now?
Her eyes darted over to where the door was located, unhappily just at the same time he started moving. With her back still pressed against the wall, she held herself upright as he slowly closed in. Did he really think she'd just stand there and wait for him too-- OHGOD!
He lunged, already in the motion of striking out at her. Megan dropped, using the wall behind her to keep herself steady, and reared an arm back. As his palm was landing smack into the wall, her fist was traveling with all of the strength she could muster into his crotch. She was sure that if the punch landed, she'd have time to try and sweep a leg out from under him... and then she'd have a good chance of crawling on top and pummeling him with her fists before he could recover. If not... or if she chickened out, she had a back up plan. Scramble out of the way, and cross the room to gain from distance between them. Then she'd need to head for the door since it was the only exit...
***
Outside, the group of captured survivors huddled together and kept quiet. From what the more observant ones could muster, something had gone wrong. Someone was causing problems somewhere... and from what one of their captors had said, people were already dead.
'Good... you rat bastards deserve whatever you get..' The boy currently observing peered out from around his fathers shoulder. He'd witnessed a lot happen in the last few minutes.. from the strange woman who'd appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and then promptly gotten herself carted off to see 'The boss', to Clive, as the others called him, joining their happy little sit down. The boy, Patrick, shifted on his feet. He was starting to feel little cramps spring up in his legs from crouching for so long. He wanted desperately to stand and stretch his legs, but with the secret he was working on grasped in his hands, he needed the cover to finish his task.
What was he working on, you ask? A toothbrush. He'd been working on it since they'd been forced to settle down to camp... and by now, it was nearly pointy enough to make any prison gang banger swell with pride. His eyes were currently locked on the back of Harry's, or Dirty Harry, head. Hid father didn't know it, which was a good thing, but the moment Patrick saw a chance he was planning on launching himself at the man. In all reality, he didn't expect to survive. If he could only get a few stabs in before he got cut down, though, he'd at least feel like he'd gotten a little revenge for his mothers death.
The monster's had dragged her off hours ago, and she hadn't returned yet. He could only assume that she'd met the same fate as they other two women.