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.
This is what I have to add: (hopes it is coherent)
I think that there should be two options for length of time, as some might now care if their character vanished for a month, and others might find it hard to fit into time lines, or other plots. The plot could be set for three or four weeks, and it would fall upon the individual joining to decide how long his/her character has been there. I know Megan will be missing for at least a week or longer, so say when someone who only wishes to have been gone for a short period of times joins, he/she will simply reference it in the posts. It would probably be a lot like in AoS, where people have little solo's to explain what has happened to the character in the three year span, no?
I would assume that if Amber (I believe) is going to be the one who escapes and alerts the authorities/X's to the island, it would probably take at the least, three days for her to get back to the states, or to an authority figure.
She was saved by the seat of her pants (sort of). At the moment, she was rather thankful. Later... she'd probably gripe about it. The mini car sped off, so she went ahead and transferred back to her own seat. It didn't matter if he had saved her or not, she was not going to sit in his lap the entire drive home. Once she was settled, she slammed the still (semi) open passenger door shut, and collapsed back into her seat.
Well... that was fun... Lets never--"
A sudden jerk, and crash cut off the rest of her comment. She was barely able to keep herself from flying into the windshield with a hand against the dash, and one clinging to the back of her seat. "Sonofabitch!" Megan half turned, glaring out the back window at the car that was following close behind them, attempting to catch the back of their car and force a fishtail.
"Buckle up."
"Buckle up my ass!" Enough was enough. She was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and having a bunch of jackasses trying to run them off the road was not helping. Megan had honestly never been so angry in all her life. She hadn't wanted to be a part of this... she hadn't asked to be involved in anything and yet, whether through her fault or someone else's, she always managed to find trouble like this. Had she a box of dishes in her hands, she would have started throwing them just to hear something break. Instead, her eyes landed on the hoard of dolls in back, as well as a few various other anime themed things buried within the pile.
She turned fully in her seat and reached for the seat belt. The length of life saving material was then strapped around her legs and butt as she sat her knees in the seat. Then, she slapped a hand down on the button that rolled the window on her side down. A string of angry grumble things that didn't really make much sense fell from her lips, and she leaned into the back seat and gathered as many of the dolls as she could. They varied in sizes... but were rather small. And as she soon found out, there was a life sized bust of one had been stuffed into the leg space at the bottom of the car.
Friggen creepy....
She winced, and leaned back. Not only were city streets not the right place for car chases such as this one, but the car itself was ill equipped. Megan ignored the little voice telling her that what she was about to do was a terrible, terrible idea, and leaned out the window. Wind whipped past her, obscuring everything but the sounds of tire squeals and roaring engines. Her hips bounced against the metal door, but the seat belt her legs were hooked into kept her firmly rooted to her seat. She'd remain that way, unless someone hit them from the side, or they actually got fishtailed.
But... she was going to try and stop that from happening...
With an armful of dolls, she kept one arm on the injured side of her body close and used the other to start throwing the creepy things back at the other car. A few bounced off the windshield, causing the driver to swerve momentarily.. The rest hit pockets of air and were carried harmlessly off to the side. After her supply was exhausted, she ducked back inside and reached for the bigger doll bust.
It was then that a bullet shot through the back window, and sailed through the front. Megan ducked further, falling over into what was left of the doll pile, and cursed wildly.
"Really?! A car chase and gun fight? What the hell did you do to piss them off so bad?!"
An alarm captured her attention. She turned from the two struggling men, and followed Vicente barefoot through the parking lot. It wasn't until she had gotten halfway to the car that was beeping and honking, that she felt just how cold it was outside. Goosebumps raced over the flesh of her arms and legs, and she fixed a rueful glare on the back of Vicente's head. When she spotted the car that they were to get away in... she wasn't even shocked.
"...This... really doesn't surprise me." In fact, the only thing that would surprise her right now, would be the lack of anime paraphernalia within the car somewhere. Now that would definitely be a shocker.
She climbed in after, easily fitting into the seat, and glanced over at his hulking form squeezed into the drivers. If a fat guy could do it, so could he. But... still, it was a pretty funny sight. What was it with big people driving tiny, silly cars though? Seriously! The moment the back of her head hit the seat rest, and she had the door shut, she closed her eyes. Everything that had been really keeping her going was gone. She felt drained, sore, and like part of her was on fire.
...And yet, she was kind of exhilarated all the same. She was starting to see a pattern when it came to her time spent in the assassin's presence. Something bad almost always happened... but at the end she almost always ended up feeling more alive than when she woke up that morning. Man... she really needed to see a psychologist or something. It was like she had become addicted to danger, or something... "You look ridiculous...." The usual smirk and/or laugh that would have accompanied such a statement was absent. She didn't have the energy for it at the moment. Megan. Was. Tired...
"....Maybe I should drive?" Really, it made more sense. If he was in the passenger seat, he could scoot it all the way back and at least look somewhat normal. Plus, she was a girl... and in her current outfit, she kind of (sadly) matched the car.
Now... if she could just get her legs to move her out of the car and over to the other side of the car...
BAM!
Phil appeared out of now where, slapping a hand on the passengers side window. "Ohsh*t!" Megan's heart leaped into her throat and she instinctively jumped and latched onto the closest thing to her. It turned out to be the Assassin's arm. Behind Phil, she could see the other guy, the owner, marching over. Both looked equally angry. The passenger door was quickly pried open before she could slap the lock down, and Phil reach in to try and drag her from the car. "Ah! Start the car! GOGOGOGO!"
Megan scrambled back across the threshold into the middle of the car (and somewhat into Vicente's lap space), vainly trying to escape Phil's reaching hands. He cussed up a storm when she started kicking at him, and the owner started to round the other side of the car from behind. Apparently the large assassin in the drivers seat didn't scare him that much. When a hand latched onto her ankle and yanked, she latched onto the only thing available to try and stay in the car... A leg, and the side of the passengers seat.
God knew that if she fell out of it, there was little keeping the assassin there. He'd probably just leave her in the parking lot to face the repercussions of her actions.
A voice popped up. Oddly enough, it was not male. It was also not dropping a lame pick up line on her, or requesting her phone number. It was female. It took a moment for it to register in her mind as she drew her newly re-filled up toward her. With pursed lips, she glanced over at the woman who had stolen the seat next to her.
... and then did a double take.
Woah. That was... that was a pretty serious getup the lady was wearing. Elaborate from head to toe. It was... oddly respectable. "...Um.." She blinked at the lady, then looked down at her glass. What was she drinking, anyway? She hadn't even bothered to ask. A simple give me something strong had been her only order to the bartender. "...I don't know... actually." She took a sip, wrinkled her nose, and gulped the mouthful of bitter tasting liquid down. "Something strong..." She replied back with a curt chuckle.
After setting her drink back down, she stared at the counter for a moment before dragging her attention back to the woman sitting beside her. Then, to the various menfolk eyeing the woman from behind. Ah... Men. So predictable sometimes. Her nose wrinkled again as a rather sour expression settled on her face, and she lifted her cup once more.
"Ugh... Men are such dogs. I hope you know you're getting leers from half of the guys in here."
Another gulp. Another flinch as she adjusted to the new taste. Her last drink had been a little sweeter. "God... what's in this, drain cleaner?" The bartender chuckled and shook his head without comment, as he stood a little ways away cleaning glasses and re-filling other patrons cups.
Chaos, chaos everywhere. She didn't know whether to flee, or laugh. It was honestly pathetic watching people fight over a woman, even if she was provocatively dressed. They may as well have been monkeys fighting over a banana. She took a few steps back, about to turn and head back through the curtains, when a whistle caught her attention.
It was almost hard to spot Vicente in the crowd, but considering everyone else was busy trying to find entertainment in some form or another, he stood out like a sore thumb. Well, it looked as though she was no longer needed! She could not have been happier.
"Stop her!"
Megan cringed, and glance over her shoulder in time to see Beth, another stripper, Phil, and an unknown male throw the curtains aside. The unknown male was actually the owner of the establishment. It was also important to note that he was pissed. A normal day of lurking in a backroom while watching all of the various cameras he had set up and counting his earnings had come to a crashing halt the moment the woman in the Dorothy costume had walked onto the stage. At first, he had been rather nervous about her act. She wasn'y dancing, she wasn't stripping.. she wasn't doing anything! But, then the crowd couldn't get enough of it, so he had relaxed. The moment he had glanced away from the screen to take a leak, all hell had broken loose. He didn't know what had started it, all he knew was that when he came back into the room the crowd was in an uproar and the woman was shoving one of his best dancers off the stage.
"I want that little @%*&#$ caught!"
ohsh*t! Megan kicked a heel at them, abandoning the other as she took a running leap off the stage into the gathered people below. Thankfully none of them had been expecting it, so instead of getting dragged in and under like unfortunate Toto had, she merely landed awkwardly on a few people.
It still hurt like a mother, though. A wave of nausea washed over her, rendering her unable to rise for more than a few moments. Eventually the pain from her injured ribs numbed enough that she could push through it. She hauled herself up, not caring that she landed a foot in more than one persons face on the way down, and headed toward Vicente.
...She also had the mind to gram her tulle skirt on the way past and tie it around her waist. There was really no need to make things worse by running around in sparkly blue underoos through the city if she could help it.
With her jaw clenched, she finally made it to the assasin's side, and shot a look behind her. Some people were hindering her pursuers path, what with Beth being the next thing on stage with a chest and legs. The men around Megan didn't seem to want to get too close to her now that she was next to an imposing male figure... and for once, she was glad for that. "Lead the way, boss.." She breathed, unable to put any power behind her words. Her reserve of energy was running low... even the adrenaline pumping through her system had little to no effect. Every step felt like a struggle, and every breath sent a lance of fire up her side.
The owner shoved man after man after woman out of his way, hollering at the top of his lungs for people to stop them as they fled out the door. Phil was stronger and thinner than his heavier employer, and thus set about tossing people out of the way if they refused to move. Beth fished Toto out of the crowd, who was now lacking a bra and both her heels, and dragged the poor woman back stage.
Megan followed the assassin out to where the parking lot was, and waited for him to locate their get away car. The keys had a button for unlocking, locking, and activating the alarm. She built up a wad of silk in her mouth and watched the door like a hawk. When the door to the strip joint flew open again, and she saw Philes face start through, she didn't hold back on spitting a small ball of sticky silk as hard as she could in his direction. It hit him in the shoulder and at that moment the spiders she had lurking outside fell from above the door and attempted to attack the man's eyes as well, resulting in a panicked flailing of arms. Phile lurched back the moment he saw a widow skitter down his chest, and ran smack into the owner. The silk on his shoulder smooshed against the other man's suit, and for a moment they were stuck together like conjoined twins.
She closed her eyes, took in a short little breath, and sighed. Yeah... this had been expected, but she had held out hope that enough damage had been done with her punch that he would have left to sleep off his drunken stupor.
Or maybe he was really just that big of an idiot. Either way, he stepped up to the side of her, and his buddies lined up behind her. She didn't notice them right away, mostly because she was busy taking a sip of her drink, and also because she wasn't a ninja. Her mutation didn't allow her super senses like that. Tired eyes slid the guys way. He didn't look anymore sober, but was certainly angry.
"...Leave me alone."
A grin sprouted on the guys lips, and he ran a hand through his hair. "naw, I don't think I will. I wanna see if you are just as brave without someone here to hide behind."
She could feel a headache starting up again. Probably because she was clenching her jaw too tightly. Yeah... this wasn't making the night any better. Some goon sitting beside her, the only other sane person gone. She peeked over her shoulder toward the door, and noticed that it was obstructed by a nice fellow with his arms crossed against his chest.
... and she was outnumbered. Damnit...
"You have to be afraid of something your facing down for it to count as bravery." Icy eyes slid back to him, where they looked him slowly up and down in a very measured manner. "You are hardly scary... more like an annoying drunk fly."
It took only a moment for her words to sink in, and before she knew it he had a hold of her by the collar and had hauled her almost off her seat. "Listen, you little b--" She acted on instinct (bad instinct, but still) and swung at him. He managed to dodge the blow this time, as he had seen it coming, and stood from his seat. Megan was lifted onto her tippy-toes and sent crashing into the bar. Empty and full glasses alike were sent rolling to he floor. The bartender hurried over to stop the man, but was knocked completely off his feet with a well aimed punch from one of the drunkards buddies. He was unconscious by the time he hit the floor.
"Let me go you sonofa--" Before she could finish, he set her flying over the other side of the bar. The back of her head connected solidly with a glass shelf. Half empty bottled rained down on her as the shelf shattered, and she threw her arms up to protect her face.
Back behind the counter, a few other bar goers noticed what was happening when they heard the crash and shattering of glass over the music, and jumped up to help. A small brawl broke out between two strangers and the four trouble makers. Megan could only listen to the sounds as she collected herself, checked for blood at the back of her head, and then set about getting back to her feet.
That jackass was going to pay for that, even if it killed her in the process!
Woah. Allison was fast. Megan would have to up the ante in order to keep up. The guy who Alli had barreled into and out of the way toppled over when she placed a shoulder of her own neatly into his. He fell and she stepped back to aim a swift kick at his ribs, which hit and earned the desired effect of a gasp and a hiss. He rolled out of the way as she practically hopped over him and skipped in beside Allison.
...The skipping was probably a little unneeded... but meh.
"I suggest you lot back off and leave the girl alone, before you get your arses handed to you." Was her ego showing? Yes. Was it more than a little boosted because of a class she had recently taken? Hell yes. Should she probably tone it down a little, before fate decided to turn the tables on her (them)?
...Heck no! They had weapons, plenty of them in fact, there was no way they could lose!
But, boy, did the older fellow look angry all of the sudden. Apparently he didn't like it when people burst in of him while he was having fun. The other boys eyed Allison and herself carefully for a moment, before the leader let out a bark of laughter. The other boys reacted similarly, while helping the other guy to his feet. Instead of anger at what they had just done, he got a few pointed jabs at the fact that a couple of broads had knocked him on his butt.
"What the hell is this? You chicks just fall off the circus wagon or something?"
The lady behind them eyed Allison and Megan herself, a look flashing through her eyes swiftly before they came to rest upon the oldest male once more. Megan's lips pursed behind her makeshift mask, and she squinted at the guy before withdrawing her knife from her pocket. The rest of the children on her person shifted restlessly in their various hiding spots. "...Funny. Really funny. You a comedian?" She flicked a quick glance at Allison to see if she was prepared for a fight as well.
"What say skip the annoying banter and just kick their asses?" The last of her question was slightly altered as she started pulling together a ball of sticky silk in her mouth. A few more seconds and it'd be big enough to neatly blind someone if spat in the right place.
The instant Cafas mentioned the suit, Megan abandoned her amusement over the pictures and the Masochist's pain. She followed the direction of the hero's gaze, and stood on her tippy-toes to peek around the crowd, before her eyes landed on the person in question.
It was indeed a very good replica, but only that. The dings and dents usually present were missing, as well as whatever damage it was she was supposed to repair. Still... it was very different from the other obviously fake costumes. It snagged her attention, and held on.
Megan cast a quick glance back at the medic and the injured hero. Then a quick glance at Cafas... before she decided to follow after the fake judge. She wanted to see just how good of a replica it was, and maybe find out where it had been purchased. Then, since her companion seemed to no longer need her help, she would head over toward the booths to see if anyone was trying to sell her suit or something.
Without a word to signal her departure, she attempted to blend into the moving crowd around her. More to keep her exit from being noticed by the actual Judge, than to conceal it from anyone else. If he didn't like her telling annoying girls off for touching her to stupid plastic swords, then he sure wasn't going to like what she had in mind for the actual thief of her suit....
If she found it at all, that is. If she didn't, she was sure going to be one ticked off lady while making a new one...
Megan was blinded by a multicolored spotlight temporarily. When he eyes adjusted, Toto was already prancing around the stage expertly, heading toward a chair that had been set out off to the side of a lone... gross.. pole.
Yeah... she was not touching that thing. Or the floor... or anything else, for that matter. It also didn't help that she could now see all of the sweaty faces out in the audience.... and one overly excited man right up front.
...was that a bag of quarters?
Oh lord. It was. She felt like crying. This place wasn't even classy enough for proper customers. Megan stood there awkwardly for a moment, more concerned with making sure her underwear (or lack there of) by tugging the front of her skirt down as far as possible and keeping her back to the curtains. She was not under any circumstances, going to remove any articles of clothing from her person around such people.
Nope. Not no way, not no how.
This sentiment, combined with the deer in headlights expression she couldn't managed to get rid of, only seemed to egg the crowd on though. They were used to lose women waltzing around on stage with nothing on. No shame, no clothes, same old same old. Her poor attempt at modesty, the awkward way she was dancing, and her blatant refusal to meet anyone's was fresh, new... and kind of adorable. A little annoying to some, exciting to others. It was like a virgin had walked on stage. As Toto danced around, gathering dollars and fives in various straps, she listened to the cat calls grow, and cast a curious glance behind her.
Her dancing partner wasn't being very enthusiastic. She looked so new and inexperienced it was cute. The women grinned, throwing her small arms in the air. "Everyone give a holler for Dorthy!" The raise in volume prompted a twitch from Megan, who tried to wiggler her way back through the curtains. Toto caught her by the arm and hauled her back, dragging her toward the edge of the stage. Men (and some women) leered up at her. She spotted the baggy of coins again.
"Hey, Dorothy! I don't got a yellow brick road, but you can follow my happy trail all day!"
A vein twitched somewhere behind her ear, clearly signalling that if she stayed in this environment any longer she'd have an aneurysm... icy blue eyes landed on the grinning bald man. By far, he was the worse... Even over far more vulgar, disgusting catcalls, he was suddenly the target for her anger.
...and there was certainly a surplus of it, at this point.
A tight, malicious smile curved her lips, and without abandoning her efforts to keep her skirt down, she clopped over his way. Thankfully, the layers of tulle kept her from showing too much in front as she stopped before him and leaned forward a little. The curve of bust and length of bare thigh pushed the guy into a giddy fit. Unfortunately, if didn't hide much from the other half of the crowd behind her... She ignored that for now. A little waggle of a hip, the bald man started slapping the stage again. She waited until for a downswing, then accidentally set her heel onto of his greasy paw. She also inadvertantly put her full weight on it, and let the heel of her shoe dig in. The guy howled, snatching the hand back, and dropped the baggy of coins on the stage.
"Oh! Dear me, look what i've done.. Sorry, sir... accidents happen though..." The guys on either side of him howled with laughter, and she stooped to pick up the poor neglected bag of change. With a smirk, Megan turned, intent of crossing the stage to pass the bag off on Toto.
... but Baldy had other plans.
One grubby hand flashed out after he recovered from the pain, and he latched onto the back of her skirt.
RIIIIIIIIIIP
Instantly, the place rumbled with crows of delight. The feeling of air on her nearly bare backside cause her whole face to turn tomato red in a split second. A wave of fury followed after, and with a clenched fist, Megan spun and lobbed the bag of metal coins straight into the guys face. It hit hard enough to knock him back off his feet. He fell, torn skirt still gripped in a hand, and Toto was at Megan's side in an instant. The twenty five year old had had enough, and though she was reeling from a wave of pain tossing the bag had caused, she still had enough fight left in her to turn and shove Toto off the stage.
(Thank you to Saph, for the yellow brick road joke~!)
She didn't even comprehend what he had just said as her hand was snatched up and she was dragged along behind him. A colorful string of curse words sprang forth from the pain that erupted up her side, as he was tugged into movement.
Dancing...? Was he serious? Had he lost a few nuts and bolts from being zapped a few times?
...No. No, he had apparently not. After a very pitiful explanation of what he had in mind, Megan found herself waltzing through the backdoor of a dingy strip joint. Which, no one had bothered to lock, as it turned out... It was definitely one of the lowest points in her life. Where had she gone wrong...?
...She had a few answers to that question, actually... but she chose to ignore them. Mr. Monkey arms out there had an idea of how to get them to safety, and she was honestly too tired to think of anything else to do.
"...And you are...?" The woman facing her down, who was clearly a regular dancer, looked Megan up and down before a knowing look flashed through her hazel eyes. The split lip, bruises, and general unhealthy appearance led her to think things. Things that Megan probably wouldn't have liked, had she been noticing. Instead, Megan was focused on trying to think up a valid excuse as to why she was soaking wet, half naked, and beaten half bloody in a strip club.
"...I'm...uh...new...?" Was all that fell from her lips. The nervous tremor in her voice didn't seem to fool the woman, who only squinted at her and pursed her lips. The lady dropped a hand to naked hip, flipping blond hair over her shoulder. Her outfit was... an odd one... Green tube top and green booty shorts, with what appeared to be some sort of turtle shell strapped to her back. If Megan hadn't known any better, she would have guess that it was a poor attempt at some sort of turtle ninja, as there were nunchucks dangling from a string at her side. But... strippers didn't dress like that, did they?
Megan was spared a rather scathing, cattish remark by a guy bursting into the room through a set of velvet curtains, frustration clear on his face.
"Where's Candy? She's on in five!"
The woman scowling at Megan shrugged, and returned to applying a thick layer of eyeliner in a mirror. "I dunno, phil. She didn't show up."
"Damnit! Who do we have who could fill in for her?" He eyes landed on Megan, and after flinching at her appearance, he pointed at her with a stubby thumb. "Who's this broad?"
"I dunno, some floozy off the street?"
Phil eyed her up and down, before nodding. Apparently he was content with what he saw, battered face aside. "Well, whoever you are, you wanna make some money? We need a replacement asap, and you look about Candy's size."
The twenty five year old winced. Oh, if her mother could only see her now.... "yeah... sure." She managed back, forcing the words from between clenched teeth. If there was one thing she had never envisioned herself doing, it was this... She was never going to talk to Raf--...Vicente... ever again! Well... once she got home, anyway...
"Alright, that's what I'm talkin' about! Let's get this show on the road people! Beth, you get her ready... i'm gonna go find Spunky." He turned to leave, and with a huff Beth stood to follow the order. The next few minutes were a whirlwind to Megan. A layer or two of foundation was applied, covering up under eye circles and bruises. Dark eye shadow and false lashes were added, and her lip was cleaned and patched together with liquid band aid. A layer of red lipstick was slathered on to finish the picture. She was stripped (Which was embarrassing in itself) and stuffed into a small blue dress. When she finally managed to catch a glimpse of herself, Megan flinched again.
They had dressed her as Dorothy. A short, poofy skirt and thin blue straps that ran across her shoulders. She may as well have been wearing a bra, apron, and skirt, for all it covered. Her cheeks heated accordingly. Beth slapped a pair of extra tall red heels on her feet, threw her hair into lazy pigtails, and politely pushed her toward the curtains Phil had come out of. As she stood, waiting some sort of cue, she plotted various ways of getting revenge and sent out a silent call to her spiders. She wanted them near by, if this was actually going to happen...
"Hey girly~ Don't look so nervous!" Someone swatted her playfully on the behind, and when she turned to lay into them, her eyes fell upon an awkward sight. A woman stood beside her, decked out in a furry bra and furry panties... with dog ears clipped into her hair. The woman was half of Megan's height... didn't even come up past her hips.
"...Oh sweet Jesus, you're Toto, aren't you?"
"You betcha, sweetheart!" Toto Handed her the back end of a leash, just as a voice from outside hollered into a microphone, "And now, here comes Dorothy and TOTO!" She was all but dragged out onto the stage by the short woman, quietly cursing to herself the whole way...
Yes, yes... She got the gist of it. Don't cause any scenes, don't draw attention, blah blah blah. Had she mentioned that her side was killing her? Nope.. not yet, anyway. But... they apparently had a walk ahead of them, and with no shoes on and being only clothed in a thin (cheap) silk robe, she was sure she'd have the time to complain along the way.
...maybe.
Complaining took words, and words took effort... and she was really tired. Maybe she'd just save it for later and e-mail it too him or something. "yea, yea..." Her words barely even made it out, and were probably too soft to hear. Meh. Instead of trying to make herself talk louder, she set about releasing the incubating spiders on her back that hadn't been compromised in the struggle from before. The feeling of them hatching was painful, and also served as a reminder to her hands-around-throat blackout.
...It wasn't a happy thought. Now that she thought about it (or could even think, for that matter), it was the closest she had come to the ultimate scare of death. Losing consciousness while someone really intended to end you. Never wanna repeat that again... that's for sure. As she followed along, wincing nearly every time she took a step, she made a promise to herself that she would never put herself in such a position ever again.
.... and that she'd punch the next pizza boy she saw in the face.
Hard.
Following Vicente out into the alley, she let her eyes wander to him, and they stuck. He had a new name... and crazy bat wings, and apparently a penchant for jumping off really high balconies... but he had saved her life. Damnit! She hated owing people things. Hateditwithapassion She stopped at the first chance to offload a few spiders onto a wall, and issued a silent command for them to skitter off an give her a view of things. As much as she wanted to just follow along behind Vicente, trusting that he knew what he was doing, she couldn't.
She needed to know for herself, and having a few spiders run along ahead to tell her if alleys were clear would certainly help her shot nerves. "...I hope wherever we are going is close, because it kind of hurts to move..."
Ah! Success! She got a complaint out after all. She made sure to mentally pat herself on the back.
Megan blinked, already in the process of heading off down the street, but decided not to ask any sarcastic questions. Some people just weren't familiar with things like that. "Here.. like this." She mined holding one in her own hand, and pointed at the one Allison's hand.
"You need to hold the switch down, and make sure those two prongs are firmly shoved into your attackers skin. Like... up here in the neck." She pointed at the sides of her neck, "Or the shoulders, gut, or chest... pretty much anywhere, really."
Dropping her hand, she continued walking. "You should test it out a few times, to make sure you've got it down before you have'ta use it."
It was actually pretty easy, and waaay too effective... but she liked it that way. One direct zap, and down they go! The twenty five year old tugged a red handkerchief tied around her neck up to cover the lower half of her face... it was her new cover, seeing as the Ski mask had been hot and itchy.
Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she walked on, securing her knife in her hand as she went. From down the street and around the corner a short shriek broke the silence in the air. Megan paused, shooting a glance over at Allison, before she took off running down the dark sidewalk.
... I don't see any reason in this, personally. The way I see it, nominating someone for MOTM is a compliment in it's own right. We are acknowledging that we think they added something to the site, whether that is personality, humor, plot ideas, very well written posts, or whatever. Actually winning said poll means that people agree that they deserve some recognition. I think broadening or adding more categories for MOTM would take some of the magic away from it. I also think this is kind of a case of a few bad apples spoiling the whole bunch, and don't really think that it should be like that.. There will probably always be a few hurt feelings if someone doesn't win or whatnot, that happens in any type of contest, but that shouldn't taint the whole thing.
The ideas themselves that were posted are amazing, and I could see them being part of an awesome side poll or something... but it doesn't really strike me as something that needs to be added onto what we already have. I don't know why we would need to get attribute points for the proposed additions... I would think that the recognition from your peers for being an outstanding member would be enough.
Also, sorry for sounding like a total downer. I really do like the idea, I just can't see why it would be needed. :\
"Fix the mess I made? She bonked me first! Getoffame!" She could have kicked him in the manly bits, but it was currently physically impossible to bend her leg at the needed angle for such an attack. Instead, she was forced to squirm and curse up a storm.
It was a much needed relief when her face was no longer being pressed into the floor, nor her arm being bent back at an odd angle. Someone pried the Masochist off of her, and in turn, she pushed herself up onto her knees, with the idea of swinging a prompt right hook straight into his crotch... Only, her hero among heroes turned out to be someone she recognized. With a blink, she stopped before her fist had even been raised, and stared at the guy. As much as he certainly fit in, she had never expected to run into him again. Especially at a place like this... But, then again, she woldn't have even come to the convention if it hadn't have been for the suit getting stolen.
Sneering at the masochist (since she didn't have any other name for him besides 'judge'), she set about rubbing the uncomfortable feeling from her shoulder, before being helped to her feet. The words whispered to her discreetly earned a cheeky grin, as she heartily agreed. Next time, when a punch to the mouth was needed, she would make damn sure that it hit hard enough to knock the receiver onto his or her butt. "Thanks..." She added, "Looks like this place just got a lot more fun."
The fact that a camera was handed to her surprised the crap out of her, and honesty... she felt like smashing it into teeny, tiny pieces. The entertainment that sprang up from watching the three girls figure out their positioning on the hero changed her mind though. With a sweet smile, she lifted the camera. "Everyone say Cheeese~" After snapping a few pictures, she tossed the camera back at one of the girls, who stumbled to catch it. Just around the time another guy wandered onto the scene. Her eyes caught sight of the MEDIC and she wondered if someone had ratted her out.
"He went and got himself shot, Doc." She answered, ignoring that the question had been directed at the masked man, and not her.
