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.
Hello. I am trying to start posting again but I am feeling a complete lack of motivation. Not just for MRO, I do not feel like doing anything at all. The worst part is that the more time I am away from MRO, the more difficult it gets to jump back in...
Most of Celeste's threads are frozen (most of them were with Miles) and most of Guglin's threads ended or are death too so I need new RP partners for the two of them.
With Celeste I would like to explore and improve her new power growth and the control over it (one I have approved since last year but never got the chance to use). She is also in need of friends/rivals since a lot of the new players she interacted with disappeared. (Not my fault! I swear! Haha.) Miles kind of introduced her to the current plot, so if you are in the plot and want to thread in it, I am in too.
Guglin could be more tricky to RP with him. With him we can do action threads, sneak around threads, stealing stuff, fighting over food, or just exploring the city. He is more difficult to RP with since he is not interested in heavy social stuff and in consecuence he is not bound by social laws/customs. (that is the tricky part)
Please respond here or send me a PM! I really need threads to help me jump back to MRO :(
When he spoke again, Celeste sighed out of tiredness. She really hated when people dare to reply her question with another question. Wasn’t it clear that she have not watch that video? Apparently not since the boy was still asking the same question... so she negated with her head, slowly as to give the boy enough time to decode the non verbal message.
Then he moved his lips again and a new piece of the puzzle appeared. Another thing that she had missed during her trip despite the rest of the world was highly aware of it. "What is that Gangam Style thing?" She was clueless and curious. None of her recent memories had any reference to that thing he mentioned, it was a blank spot just like the famous video he was talking about but then she came to a sudden realization. "Is that the new boutique that was going to open in NY?" Her voice dripped enthusiasm with the idea of a new unexplored place to shop. Her black eyes were sparkling with excitement until she heard the last part of the sentence.
All of a sudden, her joy and happiness was sucked away from her, filling the gap with pure embarrassment. How could she be so tactless? It was a taint in the honor and manners of her family, so she kept quiet for the rest of his explanation. When he finished explaining the dire situation, she was so scared that she could avoid sharing what she was thinking with him. "Blow over... Do you think it will end in a witch hunt?" At the moment it appeared as some humans were attacking mutants, nothing out of the extraordinary there, but if he was right about thing blowing over... then it could be mutants against humans. It was bad business. More so since she was a mutant that looked like a human. What if someone confused her for a mere mortal and beat her until she was broken? She had to call Venus. No one could beat Venus.
"Would your friend be OK?" She could not tell why she asked him about the gargoyle, maybe it was the image of an imaginary Celeste being hunted by a bunch of weird looking mutants, or worst by the very people that must swore to protect her.
Her delicate skin was in contact with his insolent face for just one second and despite it was not enough to punish him for what he did, it was more than she was willing to endure, so she retired her hairy paw with a newly discovered feline agility. She was rewarded instantly by his hurt face painted with red; it was such a lovely red that she wanted to pierce his skin and take that color for her collection. It was a shame her claws were so stubborn and her so untrained in making them cooperate. How much of that blood in his face would be outside his body if she had used her new claws? That simple thought pleased her even more.
With her punishment delivered, or at least the most feral part of it, she returned to glare at the half cat in from of her in silent demand of returning to her original and most gracious form. Until he dared to say she was crying, triggering a defensive mechanism to conserve some dignity. "I am not crying!" She screamed at the top of her lungs at the same time that her paws wiped some dust in the form of tears from her face. She was all fury and arrogance but then he shattered all of that by just saying "plenty". The tears that she would swear were not there before started to fall copiously from her black eyes, rolling down her checks while dissolving all the rage. "Please." It was a sincere "please", one of those words that almost never manage to escape her lips. "Turn me back." Her vision was blurry; his face was distorted by the tears. "Don’t you dare to let me looking like this."
As most of you know, I just got my permanent residence (For Mexico, no ladies, I am not in the states) and with that little plastic ID comes a lot of things to do that I could not do before. So now I am studying to obtain a certificate for elementary school and high school, of course I had done all that in Argentina but here is simplier to take a few exams (three or four) instead of going through process of re validating my papers from Argentina. This way I will obtain certificates from Mexico in a Mexican institution, so when I want to apply for a job or something I do not need to explain the whole Argentinean school system. So thats were I am using the time I am not using on MRO, doing paperwork and studying. Plus being a beloved househusband.
So in resume, I hope to start posting again later this month or worst case scenario, during the first day of the next month.
Despite the question was so simple, the suddenness of it appeared to catch the detective off guard since his reply was delayed a few moments. His expression was the same as before, a natural poker face that hide everything that was happening inside his head from her but despite his efforts, his puzzlement was displayed by a pair of very expressive eyebrows raised in bewilderment. It was just a moment, gone so fast that it could be a product of her imagination but it was all she needed to regain a little of the confidence she needed to go on with the explanation. A very difficult one since she was about to reveal the existence of a collective dream that foretold the end of humankind.
For an experienced detective, he was very clueless about what the ads were really about so Celeste was glad to enlighten him on that matter. "I held that party." She said while displaying a proud smile on her lips, and then she continued with the explanation. "I had a dream about the future. It was a very dark place." She glared at him just in case he decided to laugh at her statement. She had revised the dream a lot of times and none of it made sense, it was as if a bad SCI-FI movie was broadcasted directly into their brains. She paused a moment to pick the correct words to make it as clear as possible. "The cockroach broke into my bunker during that dream." To make it short, she omitted the part about the selling of weapons and food for a profit, or the link she forged with the Amazons and pretty much anything that happened during the three years compressed in one night of dreaming. "It sounds crazy, I know." She sighted. "But I held the party to get in touch with the people I met during that dream. It was not just me. A lot of people remembered surviving through that nightmare." She was mentally exhausted, her throat was dry but at least she managed to tell the story about that dream one more time.
All that rambling about her inexistent scorching aura and life giving presence was annoying her a lot, up to the point that she started to consider leaving the scarf with him. Yet, she stayed still and endured another boring line about her sun-like abilities. It was then that a doubt crossed her mind, was she still doing it for the scarf or was she there for something else? For some moments, when he adorned her with adulations, she forgot all about that piece of cloth but luckily she always managed to remember who he was, a mutant and probably a very poor one. So she focused on his ears to distract herself from his charming flattery.
Her inflated ego won the next battle, so she did not punish him for kissing her hand when she had already forbid it. She even allowed a little smile to show on her face after such display of chivalry, even if he was a mutant, she had to give him some credit for his performance. It was then, with the faint smile showing on her lips, that she heard that particular murmur. Her smile vanished. Was he purring like a cat? She directed her ears toward him, scanning his chest for any strange sound that may be coming from it but before she could identify the source of the purring as herself, she noticed that her ears were a lot more mobile... how else could she direct them to something? Her heart skipped a beat, her muscles froze with fear.
His voice unfroze her, snapping her out of that catatonic state. Immediately, she raised her paws to the side of her head and found nothing but countless strands of golden hair. Meanwhile, her ears kept moving in all directions, capturing an amount of small noises she never heard before and when she finally gathered enough courage to touch her new feline hearing organs, she also found that her beautiful hands had turned into hairy paws. She stared at her own hands in disbelief, unsure as what to do with such strange tools. "What did you do?" She asked him. Her voice was trembling with fury while a few tears gathered on her eyes. He turned her into a monster, she was so beautiful and now she was a freak. It was his fault!
She glared at him, and then stared at her stupid claws that refused to come out. It was useless. No matter how much she tried, she could not unsheathe the daggers to pierce his heart. He tricked her again. Claws or not, she would not forgive him, so she slashed at his face with all her might.
Her triumphant smile did not last for long. It clung into her lips for a small fraction of a second but as soon as the roach approached them, it vanished along with the small hope it provided her. She tried to move away from the monster but the tight corridor did not allowed her to escape and soon her back found the hardness of the nearest wall. The creature was terrifying just by standing there but just in case she could gather enough courage to defy him again, he clenched his mandibles in a way that shook each bone of her body. Then, as if that sight would not be enough to scare the bravest of men, the giant roach produced a small roach from within his body and sent it flying to the elevator. As scared as she was, the girl still managed to press her back harder to the wall to avoid the flying cockroach. There was plenty of space for the four of them and several of his minions but all of a sudden the corridor looked extremely small.
The question was easy or at least a lot easier than the one about what he wanted from her bunker... but the words got stuck at her throat. She experienced a moment of great bravery when she thought about tricking them into using the old ladder but now she was a scared little girl again, begging for her life with her tired black eyes, silently asking the giant insect for mercy. The situation was overwhelming to the point Celeste could not think of anything but horrible ways to die, so lying was out of question and so was escaping.
The flying roach returned to its master and somehow informed him of what he found about the elevator. Celeste did not hear any word but the giant roach was now in possession of some knowledge about that heavy duty machinery that moved the cage, then he moved toward Celeste to deliver her punishment, his hand was extended toward her and all she could do was to close her eyes and hope for a quick dead. Instead, his hand landed on her shoulder so she opened her eyes to find the roach crouching and staring into her eyes. She gasped in horror but her muscles could not move, so she listened in silence. When he finally finished with his not so reassuring speech, she nodded as quickly as she could and then let him guide her to the elevator. She waited there for a moment and when the red woman got inside the compartment, she closed the door and pressed one of the many buttons in the console. She could hear the sound of electricity reaching the motor and then, the whole cage started to move downward in a very smooth motion. A moment later, the elevator stopped moving and a tiny display confirmed them that they had arrived to B1, the storage room. It was a big room, very alike to a warehouse that contained a lot of tall shelves filled with different products. Some contained canned food, others shelves have bottled water, different articles for daily life and a lot of the things that she had exchanged. But what they were looking for was behind all that, in the farthest corner, covered by mantles that formed a lump. The nuke.
As her black eyes silently asked for his help, her already wounded honor keep taking even more damage. Widening the wound even more, yet she was so focused on the task at hand that she did not notice for how long or with how much intensity she had been pleading until Harlan Crowe motioned for her to stop. He raised his hand in front of him and that simple motion conjured a spell that devoured all the sounds in the lobby to the extent that she feared to break it, so she contained her breath for the duration of that long and painful moment. Was his professional opinion worth all that waiting? Why would he make her wait if not to anger her? At least, anger was an emotion she was used to deal with, contrary to fear or despair, two feelings that made her feel weak, vulnerable and useless. All three were emotions that her father did not approve.
Luckily, when her face was starting to grow red and her lungs were about to collapse, he broke the tension with a verbal replied. Each of his words encouraged her to relax so she did by letting the contained air to escape in a smooth exhalation of relief. Sadly, when she was starting to believe that detective was worth all the trouble as he said before, he made a terrible joke about her worst nightmare. She replied by smiling faintly, a very forced smile that did not fit with the rest of her face. While she was still debating if she should laugh and hope to sound natural or giggle nervously, he moved to her side and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She was so glad to have an excuse to escape from that awkward moment that she did not even mind about the boldness of touching her. In other occasion, he would have received a kiss from her Taser.
They walked toward the office without saying another word, she wanted to reply him right away and end with that silly interrogation but he was right about wanting to talk about it in private, so she waited until they were inside his office. When she analyzed the whole story in her mind, it was not that unbelievable but somehow words made it look like a very silly thing. She could had asked Maxine and her Amazons to deal with the huge roach but all the privileges and useful gift she had during that dream were now in any convenience store. Plus, for all she knew, the group disbanded after the dream ended. So if he did not want to help, she would be alone.
His questions were not easy to reply, it was like if he was reading her mind to find the most complicate question to ask. She sighted again, tired of explaining a story that was so clear in her mind. "Actually, the roach tricked me into opening the door." She blushed slightly, clearly embarrassed of the fact that an inferior mind managed to deceive her. He was not even a mammal. "That monster must have taken acting classes because he spoke like an elderly woman." She stared at her feet, intrigued by what he could think about her story but not daring to raise her eyes for fear of catching him laughing at her. "When I opened the door, I realized my mistake right away... but when I tried to close the door, the roach blocked it with his foot." The fear she felt during that dreadful moment managed to fill her eyes with tears, so she turned around and pretended to examine a picture on the opposite wall. The story was a little different in her head, since there was an invisible woman that entered her bunker when the roach held the door open and also a big bulky woman with red skin and a bloody trident, along with a bunch of semi intelligent roaches of the size of a dog. When she managed to control her emotion enough for her teary eyes to return to normal, she tried to continue with the explanation... but how could she explain that there was no clue left because it happened during a collective dream? She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts and then she made him a question. "Did you hear those enigmatic radio ads about an exclusive party?"
Waiting was not for her. So why was she still waiting for a reply from that lowborn boy? Common sense told her it was because he was still trying to catch his breath, and observation told her that she would need to wait a lot longer since he was breathing as hard as if he had just finished a marathon. What to do with the extra time? She decided to spend that time trying to control her anger. Otherwise she would throw him outside and the limousine was not even in motion. Where was the fun in that? It was wiser to wait for his explanation. So she waited a little longer and after she managed to restrain her anger quite well, she focused on discovering the source of her irritation. Was she angry at him because he tricked her into believing the dogs were chasing him? Or was she angry because he was in such bad shape that he needed to give "breathing" a higher priority than "replying"? Finally, she decided both situations offended her, but his lack of stamina was criminal. Why would Maxine choose him as a slave?
While she was still trying to find a good explanation as to why a weakling like him became a slave, he recovered his breath enough to speak again. The words that came out of his mouth did not please her. She sighted then stared at him with fierce intensity to negate with her head a moment later. Even if she missed the cops chasing after him, her chauffeur should have seen them. She glanced through the windows to confirm that there was not a single cop in sight, and then she glanced at her driver that seemed as confused as her but not as irritated. He broke the silence one more time, so she listened carefully for any clue that may clarify what happened. He claimed to be innocent, not a surprise, each criminal in his situation would be the same but then he said something weird that caught her attention and puzzled her at the same time... by people like him, was he referring to criminals? Slaves? Or dog owners? For all she knew, he was the three of them but strangely, before she could resolve the mystery, the boy said another interesting thing. Two in a row. Maybe Maxine wanted him for talking purposes...
With the mention of that video, a big portion of her anger turned into curiosity. Could it be that she missed something worth watching while she was outside of the country? But then... if it was so big as to provoke people to be scare of cops, why was it not worldwide news? Maybe it was and she missed it anyway... A bunch of shopping sprees could explain her disconnection with the world. So she asked as fast as she expected him to reply. "What video?" Despite she tried to hide her curiosity by sounding as boring and professional as she could, her interest was more than she could handle and she sounded as a little girl after receiving a pony. Noticing her mistake, she tried her best to suppress her curiosity while hoping that the boy would not notice how much she wanted to hear some local gossip. Then when she was expecting his reply, he thanked her for helping him... what a surprise! When was the last time that someone thanked her? She could not remember. She blushed slightly for the expressed gratitude and mumbled a quick reply. "You are welcome." Then he thanked her chauffeur too, changing his fake name from Jeeves to Alfred... it was kind of funny, so she ignored his insolence.
As he started to catch the drift of her powers, his questions started to become more complicated yet she still knew each answer despite the apparent added difficulty. "I can only paint one object or color at a time." His question also became more annoying as he focused more on exposing her weaknesses than discovering the advantages of her powers but since his interest on her seemed to be sincere, she discarded that thought as simple paranoia. Still it was not easy to get rid of the idea that she was giving him the impression that her abilities were extremely complicated and not that useful but it was just the way her powers worked. There were a lot of unspoken rules that limited her magic but also, there were a lot of creative ways to bypass a lot of her limitations. So with that in mind, she added the next line with a little more confidence. "If the object has more than one color or it is composed by several parts, I need to paint one by one."
Her mind drifted away from a second; to the few weeks it took her to understand her abilities. At that moment she was still conflicted by the source of her magic. She was still hiding her abilities as much as she can but at least she had started to accept that she was a mutant, or at least a Primus. It sounded better that way. When she glanced back at him, he was examining the dead triangle of cloth that she cut earlier to extract the color from the fabric for sale. "It is always the same disgusting tone of gray. It looks so dead..." Why would he be interested in that dull color? It was so boring, muffled, lacking any sign of life. Staring at it for so long was very depressing.
Despite her father will never approve of the use of a verbal contract, she extended her hand to close the deal while pronouncing her heavenly name. "I am Celeste." Meaning sky blue as the color of the sky but also celestial or heavenly. "Nice to meet you."
She already knew how awesome her powers could be but instead of scolding him for pointing the obvious, she just accepted the compliment showing a big smile on her lips. Normally she would had choose the scolding but she was in such a good mood thanks to the endless questions, the attention and the praises that she let the boy continue with his questionnaire without interrupting until it was time for her to reply. "When I extract the color, the object becomes gray." Losing sight of the copied color was a huge drawback but those by-products of her magic were more irritating since the gray produced by the extracting processes was unnatural and lifeless and could easily be noted as something a mutant could do. "If I paint the color in paper and then fragment it, I can use one piece to extract the color and introduce it again on the gray object. And I will still have a extra copy of the color." It was a neat trick that she learned while experimenting with her witchcraft but it always produced at least one gray colored object. She hated those cursed things but luckily, paper and fabric could be easily burn to get rid of the evidence. The next question was trickier but she had an answer for that too since she experimented a lot to determine in which moment her powers descended from the surface of the objects to affect the core... her investigation was not conclusive but she guessed that the her magic paint extended in all directions at once, painting not only the surface but everything else too. "If you scrape a painted object, you will find the same colors beneath the surface... the same happens with the gray objects." She was so familiar with those gray things that she almost forgot that he was witnessing her powers for the first time, so she searched inside her purse one more time to produce a moment later a triangle of fabric sporting that awful, lifeless shade of gray. She handed it to him too.
Aside from her inflated ego and the pleasant feeling of her work being recognized as something good, she was curious about the boy that all of a sudden changed from distant and apathetic to energetic and chatty. Of course, since she was the center of attention, she did not care for the unexpected change of character but she still regretted that he did not explode in an outburst of anger and tears. At least she had to admit that her mood improved a lot since she tried to ruin his shirt so her "worst day of the year" was slowly to change into a "somewhat enjoyable day".
All of a sudden she had an admirer that was asking her to paint things for him. He was a stranger to her, why would she waste time "painting" for him? She was about to refuse and maybe slap him in vengeance for not caring about his ruined shirt when she heard the rest of the sentence. As her lips silently repeated his words, a devilish smile started to took over her face until she was widely grinning. "Anything, huh?" The day was just getting better and better. "Where do I sign?"
It was usual for people to envy her innate beauty, expensive clothes or limousine, so she was used to the envious stares and murmurs she provoked but being in an interview with a stranger that was very interested in the extend and limitations of her powers was something totally new. It made her feel like a famous star, talking about her life and her talents. It was like one of those popular TV shows where they invited famous people and asked tons of questions. It felt great, so she kept replying with a professional smile despite the weirdness of the questions or the fact that had answered some of them already. "If it is dry, it is solid enough." Maybe it was because she had used her powers a lot of times (once she learned to love them instead of hating its source) but some of the questions were too easy, too obvious for her. Still, since no matter how many times she met Katrina while she was invisible, she could not understand how her abilities worked. So to some degree she could understand his confusion.
So, with that memory in mind, she tried to explain it as well as she could while keeping it simple. "Once you paint something, the texture and the color became one. So my powers extract both at the same time." It took her some time to make that assumption and some more time to learn the limitations of her witch-like abilities so she knew very well all that could be tricky to understand. She was still trying to come with a better way to explain that when he explained her how the sun normally fades the color of things and then asked a few more questions regarding her mutation. "My colors do not fade." She replied, with a certain hint of pride in her voice and then she extracted one of her old notebooks from her purse. She handed it to him. Each line in each page was painted with a different color linked to a different texture, so it gave the impression that each line was made of a different material, yet touching the pages revealed that it was still paper. "These colors are one year old." She was very fond of that colorful compendium since it was the first one she made and the colors were still as beautiful as the first time she pasted them.
For some reason that escaped her comprehension, her simple request provoked a few strange reactions. The minimum wage assistant exchanged a few confused looks with the not impressive Harlan Crowe and in turn, he mimicked her and showed an expression that showed a clearly lack of clarity. Was her request that difficult to understand for their impoverished minds? Apparently, it was. She sighted. Why would he doubt of the existence of a giant cockroach when there were plenty of mutants that defied the laws of nature in a daily basis? She was living proof of that. A witch able to command colors to leave their mortal containers and then order them to jump inside any object, devouring the original appearance and replacing it with a more beautiful and impossible set of colors and textures. So when he verbalized his doubts and asked her if it was for real, she obliged herself to put aside a wide array of expressions and curses to use a simple but deadly glare. If that was not enough, she crossed her arms over her chest, a sign that can only mean that she was serious.
Despite her eyes were still locked in the task of glaring furiously, she could not avoid to smile when he complimented her status. The smile on her lips was genuine, beautiful and sincere but since she was still glaring at him, it made her look like a mad scientist contemplating a doom's day device with a look of sinful glee. Luckily, the mix of expressions lasted just a moment and then the smile faded away and only the glaring remained. "That creature broke into my house, stole something precious and threatened my life." She paused to breath, she did not know when but apparently she had started to raise her voice and let her emotions filter into her words. "It is a matter of honor!" The sound of her own agitated voice made her realize her mistake and soon, she was breathing slower to calm down. As always, there was a part she could not tell him, a part of the story she could not tell anyone. A fragment about how the giant roach and a retinue of smaller yet highly disgusting roaches raider her bunker, stole a nuclear warhead and killed what was left of New York's population.
She sighted again, that time harder than before, then she started to organize her thoughts before speaking again but no matter of many times she re-wrote the next few phrases, her speech always sounded too far-fetched, like if it were something out of a bad Sci-fi movie. She sighted again, not because she was exasperated like before but out of tiredness. "You are not going to like this..." Her voice was soft and somewhat calm, yet it contained a big amount of fear. Would he believe her? The only pieces of information she possessed were so useless and unbelievable but since she had nothing else to work with, she continued with the speech. "I do not know for sure but I think it is safe to assume that this roach is a mutant." She paused. She was reaching the hard part... "I believe it is male since it... he..." She hesitated, stopping for a moment, her voice was filled with doubts. What would he think about her next phrase? "He wears some classy accessories... male accessories like a tall hat and a walking stick but he does not wear pants. " Her glaring softened. It shifted into a silent plea. A commanding stare that ordered him to believe in her words.
