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.
That would definitely work a lot better at molding the world to fit each person... Instead of it just being what the dreamer wants, it could play entirely off of what the people he's influencing want? Some could have wonderful dreams about being heroes, or happily married wives, and others could be stuck in personal nightmares.
That could make it fun, by adding the possibility of people not wanting to 'wake up' from really good dreams.
The npc could be tweaked so that he keeps those in his dream worlds asleep until they either force themselves awake (through maybe battle or sheer will), or until he lets them go... would that make more sense, to add a little element of danger to the theme?
“It’s…fine,”“Just…wish I knew what was going on,”“So…what was our job, anyways?”
She was almost stunned by the fact that her lie had worked. She had to actively keep herself from grinning, by forcing a wince and reaching over to rub her shoulder. The kitten mewed again in her arm. She resisted the urge to scowl at it, and instead decided to unzip her coat and tuck it inside, half zipping it back up. The vest she wore underneath was covered by her short, but still obvious from how it prevented any of her upper curves from showing. "Like I said... I don't know much. Kinda like it that way... helps me sleep better, ya know?" She chuckled, pinning her eyes back on him.
"I was hired under the table, paid up front to show up here and scout out the area. You were here already," at least, she was pretty sure he had been there before her," ...Some guy, I think he called himself ken?, was your target... He had some body guards with him. Kinda looked like we were breaking up a meeting." Yeah.. a meeting. Totally not a failed murder attempt. An attempt that had been thwarted by the youngish man standing before her. She blinked at that thought.
....Aww, F&%#!!.... she still owed him.
All thoughts of using his confused, memory-less state to her advantage, to gain some upper-hand on him, flew out of her head. She openly frowned, groaning inwardly and pushed herself away from the wall. Goddammit... there went all of her fun in one foul swoop. "...I can't tell you anymore than that. I don't know who you answer to... or what you're supposed to do now that the jobs done..." Most of that was the truth, too. She didn't know who he worked for, or what he had been doing at the docks. She didn't know how any of his day job actually worked. And she was quite happy with it that way.
"I owe you, you know... for letting me keep the vest.. Don't know if I would have survived otherwise." She stepped closer to him, reaching out to grab his wrist, since he wasn't going to give it to her willingly. It didn't look like he was paying much attention, so she figured that she'd be able to get a hold of it before he could snatch it away. Of course, he was still an assassin, and a lot faster than her, so it was a gamble."What are you gonna do now though...? If you don't even remember why you're here?" With the kitten tucked snugly in her coat, she was able to reach up and pull a few silken strands from between her lips with her other. It would probably be a little alarming, but she wasn't thinking about it. His older self had already seen what her mutation could do, so she just set about repeating something she had done the last time they had met.
She wasn't sure what to do, now that her scheming had been ruined. Her lips pursed as she drew her attention fully to gathering enough silk for a quick bandage, and she set about forming a new plan. Since she owed him, she couldn't just leave him at the docks alone. She had no idea what had been done to him, or if it would ever wear off. At the same time, though, she couldn't keep up the act forever. He was bound to ask more questions, and aside from making up small things and altering the events that had actually transpired, she was running out of material. She didn't know his past, or all that much about him. It was inevitable that she'd mess up and say something that didn't sit right. Considering that she had just gotten him to believe her, she needed to keep him believing her... but steer him away from the 'job'. Short of knocking him out (Ha! As if that would happen) and dragging him off to a doctor, she had no ideas.
"I caught you like a rabbit with my shadow. I'll take my chance with your traps."
She grinned. "Touche." His shadow trick was pretty nifty, and handy to boot. Though, she wasn't all to sure how she liked being compared to a rabbit. They often ended up as food. Megan liked to think of herself (quite egotistically) as a predator, rather than the prey.
"Nah, I'm not the one to lecture for stuff like that. You can take off.""But you're going first. No offense, but you haven't screamed 'trustworthy' so far."
Her grin widened. The guy was proving to be a little less stupid, and a lot more interesting as the conversation went on. She was glad she hadn't tried to kick him off the roof. "My my, how courteous..." Stepping forward, she took the offered hand, ordering her children to return to their various hiding places. She slung a leg over wide of the building, releasing his hand as she leaned down to grab at the top bar of the ladder.
But her foot slipped on the third rung down, and she pitched forward unexpectedly. Blue eyes widened, and a soft 'oh' left her lips. She fell, one short story, and landed square on her back with a Whoomph on the pavement below. Normally it would have hurt like hell, but she would have walked away with only a few injuries. Maybe a broken bone or two. It definitely knocked the wind from her.... But as it turned out, she had been incubating a small batch of spiders on the skin of her back- just in case the spiders owner had attacked her. When she hit the ground the force squashed all of the little bubbles her spiders grew in. A white hot pain raced up her neck and down her spine, firing off a million nerve endings at once.
She gasped, saw spots for a moment, then passed out. Curled up on her side, with one arm pinned below her.
At first, she had just intended to hide out for the night. She turned her phone off and hopped on her bike- since Trent had the car. She had peddled around the town for a little while, sure that the cover of night would keep her hidden as long as she had her coats hood up.
But eventually she had found herself at the Greyhound bus station. She didn’t really know what she was doing when she handed over three hundred dollars to the man behind a computer, and asked him to ship her three states away, into a city she had never even heard of. The two hours she waited after, all while quietly growing more and more panicked as the hour of her wedding drew nearer.
By the time her wedding party and guests were awakening and preparing themselves for the event, she was on a bus, halfway out of the state.
By the time her groom was standing at the alter, waiting for her to appear while people nervously glanced at their watches, she was in the next state over.
She sat and watched her phone ring, the volume turned all of the way off so as to not disturb the others on the bus. Her eyes tired and empty. Lips slack and dry. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she knew that there was no going back. She had left an entire wedding party behind her, everyone she knew and loved.... Her mother, god, she didn’t even know how her mother would react.
And Trent? She shuddered. She prayed he never found her... because she honestly didn’t want to find out.
Her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering... her hands were trembling, and she had nearly plucked all of her eyebrows off. Megan was freaking out. It was the night before the wedding... all of Trent’s family had flown in from out of state, some from half way across the country. Her own family had all gathered as well, staying either at the house she had been raised in, or at various motels close by. The ceremony was in the morning, bright and early so that anyone who needed to leave afterward could still catch a decent flight back home.
She had less than nine hours to wait.... and it was killing her.
The uncertainly she felt over the whole thing had grown and grown over the past few weeks, to the point that it felt like someone was sitting on her shoulders. Whispering all of her fears right into her ear. The ring on her finger itched, she was painfully aware of it’s existence, and every time she looked at her wedding dress she burst into tears.
Thankfully, her husband to be was staying with his family. She was all alone in their home, left to herself since it was bad luck for the husband to see his wife before the ceremony. She didn’t want him to see her in such a state anyway. Megan was close to tearing her own hair out. Her mothers words were ringing in her ears, mixed with her own paranoid and doubts.
Was this the right thing to do? Was she ready for this? Was Trent even ready for this? She had asked him earlier in the week, when her doubts had crept up and overtaken her. His reply had been less than assuring, more along the lines of ‘Don’t worry, everything will be alright’. It hadn’t settled her nerves at all... In fact, it had sparked her anger. She had been left feeling like what he wanted was more important than what she did, and she had only narrowly avoided starting an argument over the phone.
“...Come on Meg... pull yourself together... you’re stronger than this...” She muttered, her own words echoing out into the silence of her house. She was strong. She could handle anything, right? What was marriage more than a little ring and a silly old ritual anyway? ...and who was to say that it would mean giving anything up?
“yeah..” She muttered, running a hand through her hair as she answered her own thoughts. She could be a wife, and still keep her dreams!... plenty of people did that, right?
For a few minutes, she sat in silence. Thinking. Her mind drew a blank. She didn’t know anyone who had gotten married, and not immediately started a family. She also didn’t know any wives who had gotten jobs, or gone on fun trips... she hardly even knew anyone who still went out partying with her after getting hitched. With a groan, she dropped her head into her arms, and tugged at her hair. That seemed to be the curse of living in a small town. People followed traditions, kept to rigid beliefs. Hell, even though Trent was a bit of an oddball, and a city boy, he had adopted a farm lifestyle and melded into the community seamlessly.
She was doomed to become another stay at home mom, a cardboard cutout of who she had been before that little ring had been placed on her finger. She was doomed to follow in her mother’s footsteps, always smiling even though there was pain in her heart, and regrets forever on her mind. Biting down on her bottom lip, Megan got to her feet. She couldn’t handle it! She didn’t want her wedding to go like this!
Snatching up her phone, she scrolled down to Trents number. She’d call him, confess her fears, and put the wedding off. Surely if they sat down and discussed it, he’d see her side. Surely... Her thumb froze before she could dial the number. She held her breath, chewing on her lip anxiously.
Would he though? Would he understand? Trent was stubborn. He was set in his beliefs and trying to pry him away from what he wanted never ended well. She had known him long enough, seen how he acted and heard what he believed, that she knew that much was true. If she told him that she was having second thoughts, he’d probably come home. She knew full well that she couldn’t face him in person... he had too strong a personality. The kind that beat you into submission without even having to raise a hand. Flipping her phone shut, she stuffed it into her pants pocket. No, she couldn’t tell him. That would just put her back into a place of quietly suffering with her thoughts. Turning, she marched over to her closet. Her heart was beating so hard she could hear it in her ears. A slow panic crept in, and her movement sped up.
She just needed to leave.... to get away for a little while and collect her thoughts.
Snatching up a backpack, she proceeded to dump a few articles of clothing into it. She slipped shoes on her feet, ignoring socks, and stopped by the wedding dress laid out on her bed. Her mother would never forgive her if something happened to it... She’d have to take it with her. Folding it quickly, she stuffed it in right along with her underwear and shirts, and quickly moved out into the living room.
Together, she and Trent had saved up a good sum of money... funding that they had intended to use on a new car. A wedding present to themselves. With a frown on her lips, she snatched the jar up, turned, and marched out the door, locking the house behind her.
“Oh, honey.... You look so beautiful!” Her mother cooed, her hands clasped tightly under her chin. “Your grandmother would just love this! You wearing the family dress...” Tears pricked at the woman’s eyes. She patted at them with a tissue gently, so as to not mess up her mascara. “I’m so happy for you!”
Rolling her eyes in the mirror, she blew a few wisps of black hair from her eyes and picked at the front of her dress. It was old, ivory in color and made mostly of a delicate chiffon fabric. She had never imagined herself wearing something with a collar and sleeves to her own wedding, not while still alive or without a gun pressed against the back of her head, anyway.... and yet here she was. Standing before a fill length mirror, picking at the lace and little beads that adorned the upper half of her wedding gown. “Thanks mom... i’m really happy you’re here for this. I’m so nervous... I-...I don’t know what to do.”
Her mother smiled, her reflection tilting her head, and strode forward to gently turn her daughter around. “I know honey... you are young and this is all new to you. Come sit, we can chat while we wait for your sister.” Megan let her mother lead her across the room, sweeping the train of her dress behind her as she moved. It felt far to elegant for her... far to clean and pure for someone of her background. She had always kind of expected to get married spur of the moment in Vegas, or not at all.
“You know, Megan, I was a lot younger than you when your father and I got married. I was only seventeen, and he was twenty three.” Both of them sat, her mother crossing one leg elegantly, while Megan just plopped down and folded her hands in her lap. “I met him in Utah, back when I was going to this little dance school. He was the backup dance instructor.” The woman smiled, tucking her hair back behind her ears. “He could mamba like nobody’s business, and he swept me literally right off my feet. We got hitched a four months after we started dating, and a year later your sister was born.” Megan smiled at that. She had heard the story many times before, and every time it was brought up while her sister was around she couldn’t help but make a jab about her being an unplanned baby. Both she and her younger brother had been planned. It entertained her to no end to pick at the eldest child in such a way.
“My point though, is that I was so young when I got married that I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had never envisioned being a house wife. I was a wreck up to the day of my wedding, until the very moment your father kissed me.” Her mother giggled, cheeks tinted slightly pink. How on earth her parents managed to keep the spark in their marriage going, Megan had no clue. It was as confusing and mysterious to her as arithmetic and philosophy were.
“But... how did you know you were ready?” The older woman pinned her with a knowing look, red lips pursed thoughtfully. Her mother folded her hands over her knees and sighed. “I didn’t.... It’s impossible to know if you are ready for something that you’ve never done before. It felt a lot like I was getting ready to jump into a big, deep hold in the ground. I was uncertain about what was at the bottom, and it frightened me.” Megan watched her mom, blue eyes trained on the woman’s face. “... but your father was right there beside me, holding my hand and ready to take that jump with me. In the end, he was there to catch me at the bottom, too.”
“So you just took the plunge, and dealt with the consequences later...” Megan muttered, leaning back into her chair. “...Do you ever regret it? Getting married so young?”
The question caught her mother off guard a little, and it took the woman a few moments to come up with a response. “... I guess... Oh, Megan, you are so dreadful for asking me a question like that!” With a huff, she continued on. “I guess sometimes I do... I had wanted to be a dancer you know, like the ones on Tv.” Megan nodded, her eyes trailing away to the floor.
“... but I wouldn’t change anything. Not for all of the money in the world. I have three darling children, and a wonderful husband. I couldn’t be more happy with my life. I’m sure you will know what i’m talking about, after things settle down and the excitement wears off.”
Megan nodded again, and forced a smile onto her lips. “Thanks mom...” She said, leaning over and hugging the woman gently. Her sister appeared in the doorway with three cups of coffee balanced in her hands. “You guys just about done with all of this emotion crap? Our appointment with the florist is in thirty minutes.”
Her mother huffed and got to her feet. “Sophi, you hush! Always setting a bad example!” Megan waved at them to continue on without her. She needed to slip out of her dress and get back into her street clothes. As the two left the room, gently snipping at one another, the bride to be let her gaze fall to her hands... where a small silver wedding ring glinted up at her.
Her mothers words hadn’t set her mind at ease. If anything, she was more troubled than she had started out. If someone like her mom, who was the biggest push over she knew, could harbor feelings of regret... what was her life to be like? She still held onto grudges that had stemmed all the way back into junior high... she couldn’t even fathom what life would be like years into the future, holding onto remorse for little things like never leaving her home state. With a soft, bitter chuckle, she stood and set about getting undressed.
She hadn’t even been to Canada yet, and here she was, taking of the biggest leaps a person could in one lifetime.
He took her hand, and the world dropped away around her. He touched her cheek, and everything else around them ceased to exist. His smile melted her heart, and his touch caused all the thoughts in her head to scatter. She was an idiot around him. She said the stupidest things, acted like a complete moron... but he didn’t make fun of her. He didn’t roll his eyes, or point out her flaws.
He loved her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her... and she didn’t know how to handle it.
“Trent... I...I don’t know what to say.” She breathed, her hand shaking in his grip. He gazed up at her, his dark eyes sparkling, and smiled. “Say yes, Megan... Make me the happiest man in the world.”
Her eyes dropped from his to the silver ring on her finger, and she felt her knees wobble. Yes.... she thought. Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes! Her mind told her. She was the happiest she had ever been, living with him.... but her heart said no. A quiet, muffled no. No, no, no. She wasn’t ready for this... there was still so much that she wanted to do! So much life left to live, and fun to be had. “....Will you marry me?”
Her breath caught in her throat, and she dropped to her knees, throwing her arms around his neck. “Yes! Yes I will!” It was a beautiful sight... All of their combined friends clapped and cheered, and the two shared a sweet kiss. Megan embraced him, her chin nestled in the crook of his neck. She was smiling... but her eyes were uncertain.
“I just returned home, from New Orleans. I…I…just got off the plane yesterday.”
Blinking right back at him, she pursed her lips, still holding her hand out at him. Just as stubborn as ever, it seemed. "Well, I don't know anything about that." Megan muttered, attempting to ignore the mewling cat burrowing into her coat. She didn't know enough about him to know what he was talking about, and she figured that trying to make up things about his life was probably a no-go. So she was going to leave that memory alone. Instead, she decided to try and go with what she did know about him, hazard a guess and hope it was correct. "But I do know some things... First off, My name is Charlotte."
Softening her voice, she shot him a crooked smile and backed up until she hit the wall, hand still waiting in the air. He was stubborn, sure, but she was pretty sure she had him beaten in that department. "We're in new York. I was paid to do a job with you, but I don't know by who, or why. I'm not privileged enough for information like that... Mostly just here as eyes, ears, and bullet protection." The lies falling out of her face sounded painful to her own ears, considering she knew what had actually happened.. but it was worth a shot, and she was getting a little bit of a thrill out of trying to dupe him. He deserved it, for that hooker jab. "You took care of the guys we were sent here after, some minor gang leader or something... they're somewhere out there by one of the docks. Guess there must have been another one, though... You heard something and went to check it out."
God... she felt like she was reciting lines from a mob movie. All she was missing was a baseball bat and a cigar. "I saw someone run off as I was coming up, but i'm not really suited for combat... So I came to find you." Megan shrugged one shoulder, feeling the bruise under her coat protest as she did so. She hoped her web of events was convincing enough, because if not she'd probably have a lot of explaining to do, possibly at knife point. "I don't know much more than that. ...I...I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner, Rafael. Maybe I could'a stopped him."
Megan was... caught off guard? No... no. She was blind sided. The guy who had stood up, quickly drawn a knife and turned on her... was talking in the same voice as the assassin. Same voice, but younger. She blinked, taken aback, and glanced at the struggling kitten in her hand. Okay, so it wasn't him. So much for dressing it in embarrassing outfits and taking pictures.
She'd just had to feed it to Roach later, then. Stupid cats. The lack of memory also caught her off guard, as well as being referred to as a prostitute. Again. He was on a roll with that little joke.
"...How many times're you gonna to call me a hooker? It's getting pretty tiring." She snapped. Seriously... she didn't look that much like a street walker!
She had to assume that the kid who had run past her had done... something... to him. Though she didn't know exactly what that would be. "What do you mean, 'where am i', Did you hit your head or something?" Megan stood her ground, which she was sure wasn't the best choice, but... meh. With her stolen knife at her side, held tightly in her palm, she tucked the frightened cat in the crook of her elbow, letting it tremble against her stomach. If he came at her, she'd just throw it at him. See how he fared against small claws and fur while she turned and ran.
"I heard a noise and came to find y--...wait, you don't remember me?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she tapped her blade against her thigh. He really seemed confused, but she couldn't see any wounds on him that would have caused trauma great enough to wipe his memory. Which pretty much left whatever that kid had done to him as the cause. She did however, finally spot the injury he had on his hand. A burn of some sort, that had blistered the skin. "That's not good... You must have gotten whacked pretty hard if you were able to forget who I am." She stated, managing to sound a little hurt.
She wondered to what extent his memory he been messed with. Maybe he had actually completely forgotten who she was... and if so, maybe she could use that in her favor. "Come here, let me see your hand. ....What is the last thing you remember?" She asked, leaning down to tuck her knife into her boot, then straightened and held her hand out for his.
Her nice quiet moment of contemplation shattered in an instant. The brood-mother sat bolt upright, icy eyes startled. What the hell was that? It didn't sound like a roar... not like the last one she had heard, anyway. It sounded... pained. Her brows drew together, and she wiped her hands off on the wooden crate, abandoning her dewy web. Snatching up her knife, she let herself down off her crate. The jolt from her feet slapping against the floor set the pain in her shoulder off, earning a hiss and a muffled curse word. With her knife in hand, she glanced around.
"...Rafael?" She called, her voice echoing out into the shadows around her. If someone was still creeping around from the incident out on the dock, then there was still the possibility of her life being in danger. Edging forward, she headed toward where the sound had come from. The sound of hurried footsteps headed her way, and she braced to meet whoever it was. A child flew past, barely even sparing her a glance. "...what the- HEY!" She started after, figuring he might know what had happened. But the brat was fast, and she didn't feel like sprinting after him. Cursing under her breath, she ordered her spiders to tail the boy as far as they could, before turning back. Rafael was in the warehouse somewhere... she just needed to find him. "Rafael!?" She hollered, marching back toward where she had come from.
Something was making noise... she could hear it. She followed the sounds as best she could, and eventually stumbled close by. It didn't sound like the man. No one was yelling... there wasn't blood on the floor. Marching on, now determined to figure out what was going on, she came right up on someone. Someone on the floor, making the noises she had heard. Stopping in her tracks, Megan eyed the guy. It was dark, but even in the darkness she could see that whoever it was was not Rafael.... and that he was wearing the mutants clothes. "Who the hell are you?" She questioned, her voice quiet and sharp. She glanced around them, looking for any sign of a struggle... and coming up with nothing. Just the guy, a blanket on the floor, and a... kitten? She blinked. There was a kitten, small and frightened, backed up against the wall. Pinning her eyes on the stranger, she edged over and picked it up by the scruff of it's neck. Maybe the guy was a mutant... and he had turned her friend into a cat? One look into the cat's large yellow eyes and she scoffed at the very thought.
...Though... best to hold onto the animal... just in case, at least until she figured out what was going on.
“My way of teaching may not be right for you, little spiderling. Though I do believe that you belong to the court of the Great Goddess of Teotihuacan, the Spider Woman. They say that— Stay here.”
He turned, and stalked off into the shadows. Megan didn’t need to watch him go, nor did she need to wonder what it was that he had heard. She was curious, sure, but she had a few spiders on the outside who would radio in and let her know if things got wacky.
Instead, she mulled over what he had told her, chuckling at the name he had called her. First spider weaver and now little spiderling? They were cute names... and she would have never expected him to utter them. ...Then again, she didn’t know the man that well at all. The twenty five year old fished her phone from her pocket, flipping it open and typing a few words into her web browser. Many of the things he had said were a mystery. Who was Teotihuacan? Other than a spider woman, obviously. She managed to massacre the spelling of the name a few times, before the search bar figured out what she was trying to type. A multitude of pages assaulted her, many of which were about temples and ruined cities. Laying where she was, she simply scanned through one page after another, mumbling things under her breath as she narrowed down the information to what she was really looking for. The great goddess, huh? Associated with spiders, owls, and jaguar. With the darkness of night... creation, gift giving, and eternal paradise.
It was an interesting character. Another deity to add to her list of known gods. But it didn’t really sound like anything she’d be even remotely connected to. One search then led to another, and she found herself looking up the names he had spoken before. The kind of the underworld... who was, for lack of better words, freaking creepy and then the Nahaul. Eventually everything just kind of blurred together after a while. Mortals turning themselves into animals to serve gods, and gods who were pretty odd ball themselves. Snapping the phone shut and returning it to her pocket, she turned back to gazing up at the ceiling, letting all of the wacky info she had just read sink in a little. (even though she knew full well she’d probably forget it in the morning) Above her, there was a crack of light. A metal panel had come loose. A darkening sky peeked through, oranges and reds blending into deep blue. Fluffy clouds floated past... but there were no stars. It had been years since she had seen stars. The kind of skyline she remembered from back home in Oregon, sitting high up in the mountains.... trees surrounding her in every direction. On clear nights she could lay there and map out the universe, letting every inch of the milky-way wash down on her. She had shared many of those nights with another. Her head cradled in his lap as he pointed out all of the constellations and their various stories...
Her lips dipped bitterly, but nothing stirred within her chest. She was numb to those old feelings, most of the time anyway, and it was best to keep it so. Still, she did miss that skyline. Lifting a hand to her lips, she pinched a little bit of silk between her fingers and pulled, using her other hand to stretch it out into a little web. With it strung between her digits, small droplets of sticky saliva clinging to the threads, she lifted her hands above her. Over the crack of sky. It was a shoddy imitation at best.... but it made her smile all the same.
She grinned to herself. Having friends was fun! She watched silently, letting a comfortable smirk befall her lips. The only people you could ever really trust, were the ones to could readily stab you in the back. Or eat you, in Roaches case.
“Mictlantecuhtl is the lord of Mictlan, the underworld, and one of the four Skybearers, It is to him that I owe my skills, gifts, and allegiance to. My appeasing him, by filling the coffers of his realm with the dead, he grants me his blessings not only in this world, but the next. It is to him that I prove myself as a nahaul.”
Nahaul... Another name she didn't know. Maybe it was some hocus-pocus word for assassin, or mutant. He certainly wouldn't have been the first mutie she had met who believed themselves touched by gods. It seemed like people were quick to jump upon ridiculous explanations for things they didn't understand. She snorted softly, unbelieving, but not dismissing.
“Do you know of what I speak of? Or do you follow the lies of the Authority?”
Having let her eyes slipped closed while he had been talking. Did she follow the lies of the authority? Now he sounded like an anarchist. Pounding his fists against the wall 'the man' had put up. Only the man was probably not the government, in this case. "I don't follow anything... least of all authority." She muttered, cracking one eye open to look back at him. If he was talking religion, he was barking up the wrong tree. She believed in nothing. Zip, zilch, nadda. The last time she had believed in anything had... ended badly. "...don't know much lore, there's not really any use for it these days. Most people seem too content with keeping their heads firmly shoved up the churches backside, to look around and consider other possibilities." God, now she sounded all serious. Abandoning the little spider at her side, she crossed her arms behind her head and flopped back onto the crate.
"but...I once read up on gods and the like. ...Arachne, Anansi, Neith... Jorogumo." She chuckled at that last one. Thinking about Japanese women luring men in close, transforming into a hideous spider demon, then devouring them alive... Now that was a demon she could relate too. But it was still just a myth. She wasn't the demon offspring of some spider god and goddess getting it on, she wasn't cursed, or blessed... She was just a human with mutated genes, who could create horrible, eight legged life from her skin. "When I was a kid, I believed in the Spider Grandmother. That she created the stars by spinning a web dotted with dew and throwing it into the sky." A beautiful image, but it hadn't stuck with her long. Though it had certainly made her feel better about her mutation at the time... back before Trent had filled her with spiteful mutant pride.
"But then I grew up, and things like that became a lot harder to believe in." Opening her eyes, she stared at the ceiling. Sometines... she envied people who did. People who devoted their lives to one path, and honestly believed that some kind all knowing god was watching over them. It was Bullsh*t. Shrugging, she answered. "... Don't really believe in anything, right now."
Grinning from ear to ear, she couldn't help but giggle. Apperantly her ruse had worked on the dock. It was abnormal for one of her plans to actually work, so the feeling of victory was nearly overwhelming.
“Let me guess, you died and even Mictlantecuhtli and his wife, Mictecacihuatl, found you to too irritating for their realm?”
The names he spouted didn't sound familiar to her. She shrugged one shoulder lazily, and lifted her coat and shirt to show him the vest she had created that lay under. Her sewing needed work, that much was obvious. But the layers and layers of web, woven together and infused with layers of think ballistics gelatin she had bought online, had stopped a bullet all the same. She just needed to tinker with the thickness, and adjust the straps holding it to her. "Never even knocked on their door."
“You ruined my apartment, you little spider weaver. Do you realize how much money it took to fix it? How much YOU now owe me?”
"I was drunk, you can't hold me to that." Ahhh, party logic. "...and maybe the next time you take a girl home with you, you shouldn't pass her off as a prostitute. We don't usually take kindly to it." As far as she was concerned, she had made his boring ceiling less ugly on the eyes. He had owed her anyway, for the whole butt grabbing incident.
But... she was in his debt for other things. A position she didn't very often like to be in. "I guess I do owe you something though, considering how you made such an excellent distraction. I doubt my prototype would have worked if had he shot me multiple times." Not to mention the other mutant he had with him. Silk didn't stand a chance against crazy fire hands, and she didn't much like the idea of being burned alive. Her eyes drifted to the bloodied machete at his side. She cocked an eyebrow, thoroughly caught off guard by the weapon. Who carried around one of those in the city? Crazy good murderer's who like to chop people into little bits. Her mind replied back.
"....Who's Mictlantecuhtl, anyway?" That name was a mouthful. Megan pinned her blue eyes on him, red eyeshadow making the light icy color pop in the darkness. She slightly curious, mostly due to never having heard the names before, but not willing to question more anymore than that. If he felt like spilling, she'd listen. If not, she'd get back to what she had been doing before Ken had gotten a stick up his butt. Using the knife she had originally swiped from him, she set about carving a little crudely drawn spider in the wood next to her thigh.