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.
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 28, 2014 15:55:01 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
When the door opened with a loud clatter Chris took a couple of steps backwards. Nothing exited throughout the door, though. Except from a smell that made his stomach turn - it smelled strongly of death.
Chris waited outside while Emily stepped into the room. He could see her turn on her cellphone to shed some light on the scene, and then she stopped by the shape near the chair. His heart sank. He couldn't see the body clearly in the dim light from the phone, but from the smell and from how Emily didn't even try to wake the person he could tell it was bad. This was confirmed when Emily called the police. Chris weighed nervously from foot to foot outside of the room with the dead woman. He was hesitant to enter the room, as it was now a crime scene.
He had only seen a dead human body once before. When he was seventeen he basically lived outdoors, but he went back to the cottage where he grew up now and then. One day he'd been unable to find his grandfather, so he'd gone out to look for him. He found him in the backyard, lying flat on his stomach close to the woodpile, axe still in hand. The old man had been covered in a layer of fresh snow, the first of that year. His body wasn't frozen, and the smell had been similar to the one in here.
But there was another association too... he'd felt a similar smell somewhere else. Recently.
When Emily started climbing the ladder to the second floor Chris stuck in his head through the door. "Be careful," he whispered at Emily. "I don't think she was the one screaming."
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 28, 2014 15:17:22 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Chris attention was still mostly directed towards the door, but so far it seemed as if the three men who were after him hadn't seen him go into the taco restaurant. He sighed out in relief, and then became aware that the kid he'd sat down in front of was staring. Chris looked away. He'd never liked when people stared, but this time he didn't really have a say in the matter since he had sat down right in front of the guy with barely a word of warning. One of the problems with visible mutations was that you'd never know how people would react to you. Even if many New Yorkers were used to the idea of mutants walking around them, you never knew who'd be accepting and who'd be hostile.
>>"Are...are you...-?" Chris knew what the kid was gonna ask, so he opened his mouth to say yes. >>"Are you... like me?" He quickly closed his mouth again. Now it was Chris' turn to stare - he gave the kid a sharp inspection. Having eyes adjusted with seeing under water made him very nearsighted on land, but this close he could tell that the guy in front of him was young, probably younger than himself. Possibly of Asian descent. The only thing they seemed to have in common was that they both looked a little run-down and ruffled. Of course, that was probably not what the kid had meant. Chris put his elbows on the table and steepled his webbed fingers against each other, then thought better of it and quickly hid his hands under the table. "...Possibly," he said in a deadpan voice. "Are you also hiding from three very angry men who's promised to flay you alive?" He cleared his throat nervously and muttered; "Sorry, that was a joke. Are you a mutant? In that case, yes, I'm like you."
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 28, 2014 13:01:34 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Chris was usually not a fan of crowds, but at some times they could come in handy. Like when you needed to shake someone of your tail.
At the moment the grey mutant was walking up the street, using the crowd to shield himself from the three men who were following him. His instincts told him to just run for it, but he realized that if he ran it'd catch their attention. And from what he knew, there were no large body of water nearby were he could disappear. His best shot was to disappear in the crowd... something that was hard to do out on the open street. The amphibian-like mutant wasn't exactly a master at blending in, even with the hoodie's cowl up to hide some of his more unusual features. He'd have a bigger chance inside one of the buildings... like the Taco Bell he was just passing. It seemed like a good place to disappear, as filled with people as it was.
Inside it was even more chaotic than it had looked from the outside. It was probably not worse than your regular lunch rush, but all the people, noise and unfamiliar scents were almost overwhelming for Chris. For a moment he considered exiting the fast-food store and let the people who were looking for him catch him, but then he thought better of it. The Taco Bell might be chaotic, but right now the chaos was working in his favor.
Not if he stayed just in front of the door, though. Chris walked to the side, navigating carefully between the full tables. Most people seemed so focused on their tacos that they didn't even look up when he passed by. He finally found an empty table - well, unless you counted the dark-haired, scruffy-looking kid who sat there. But Chris was desperate for a place to hide. After casting a glance over his shoulders to make sure his pursuers hadn't entered the fast-food joint jet, he walked over to the booth. The kid looked up, and Chris nervously cleared his throat, his eyes still darting towards the entrance. "That seat taken?" Without waiting for an answer he quickly eased down in the seat opposite of the dark-haired kid. He threw another nervous look over his shoulder, and hunched over a bit more. His jittery manner probably showed that something was off, and he didn't want the guy opposed to him making a scene, so tried to force himself to calm down before he continued talking. He gave the kid in front of him a pleading look. "Please, don't mind me. Enjoy your taco, and, uhm... continue to act natural."
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 28, 2014 5:07:10 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Chris frowned when she asked if he were running a marathon, interpreting her joking response as a literal question. He looked down on his clothes - a black, long-sleeved t-shirt and baggy and worn jeans that didn't exactly look comfortable running in. "No."
When she listed the different options he hesitated. Beer was more expensive than he had thought, and since this was the first time he'd ever ordered it he had no idea what the difference between a pint and a draft was. He decided to just go for the cheapest option, and after making a quick calculation of the money he had in front of him to make sure that he had enough to pay for his order he looked back at the female bartender. "A... pint, please."
He steepled his long fingers in front of him and glanced over his shoulder. The group he'd passed on the way, with the young dark-haired female, seemed to have hushed down a bit. When he looked, the girl gave her friend a quick jab with the elbow and they both looked away from him. A couple of years ago that kind of attention would have freaked him out, but now he was able to tell that they meant him no harm. They were probably curious. He couldn't really blame them, since he was curious about them in turn. One of the reasons why he'd gone here instead of to a supermarket was that he wanted to know what it was like - he'd never been at a bar before, and it seemed safer to go there during the day instead of during the busiest hours. It was not exactly like he'd expected; he'd thought it would be dingier and that the clientele would be older, for starters. This felt a bit like a restaurant - except that it was a bit darker inside and that most of the people were drinking something instead of eating.
When the bartender asked if she could get him anything else returned his attention back to her. She wasn't outright staring, which he was grateful for. He shook his head as an answer to the question. "No, just the beer." While he waited for her to get it he looked around once again. The bartender seemed polite, and at the moment no-one else was ordering something. If he wanted to learn more about this place, it seemed sensible to ask her. Chris hesitated and then asked: "Sorry to bother you, but... what is it like working here?"
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 28, 2014 3:12:50 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Chris listened politely to Mirror's explanation, even though it was pretty obvious that she hadn't just been modest earlier when she'd said that she didn't know much about that 'crap'. He was therefor pleasantly surprised when she suddenly decided to go and take a look. "Oh. Really?" But he wasn't about to let an opportunity like this go to waste. She'd extended a hand towards him. Chris hesitated slightly and then took hold of it with his own webbed, clammy hand.
Mirror-traveling wasn't as intimidating when you were prepared for it, as much as you could prepare for traveling from one space to another just by going through the reflections on the way there. It was still highly disorienting, though. They ended up in an alley Chris had passed by on his way to the museum, even if it took him a moment to recognize it. He gave the window they'd probably exited through a suspicious look - it was only a meter or so high, and seemed way to small for the two of them to travel through. Very disturbing.
He turned back towards Mirror, pulling down the hoodie's cowl. There was no need for subterfuge now. "Thank you. I owe you for this. Besides, it sounds to me like..." He paused and quirked an eyebrow at her; or at least, the area where his eyebrow would have been if he'd had any hair. "...you could need some education on the subject." Chris' humor had always been a bit subdued, but he himself believed that he was pretty funny.
After exiting the alley they were right outside that flat concrete facade again. The grey mutant glanced over at the guard, who'd gotten back to his post next to the gallery's entrance after showing the German family inside. Somehow it was more intimidating to walk up to the security check instead of just trying to sneak in. Chris hoped he wouldn't get frisked - he hated that. "Ladies first," he said while gesticulating with one arm for Mirror to take the lead. Then he realized what he'd said, and to whom, and looked as if he might swallow his own tongue. Mutations could be a touchy subject, and so could gender. When you mixed the two of them, the possibility of saying something offensive increased tenfold. Chris cleared his throat nervously. He had no idea if he'd somehow offended the X-men member, but he hoped he hadn't. "I, uh, that is... I mean... if you... hmm."
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 26, 2014 13:49:39 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Chris was in a good mood today. He'd woken up early and decided to drive upriver, all the way to Harriman State park. There he'd parked in a glen and spent the morning swimming in one of the lakes. There had been a thick fog over the water until it was dispersed by the rising sun, and the water had been cool and energizing. The Hudson water was just muck in comparison. After catching his own breakfast, a big perch, Chris had gotten back into his van, changed his clothes and decided to drive back to New York. His good mood persisted as he parked his van on a side street and started walking down the street, looking for a place to spend the day.
He stopped outside a bar, trying to peek in through a window. It was a bit too dark inside compared with the sunny street, so he pushed the door slightly ajar. Just enough so he'd be able to look inside. The place seemed calm enough. Not too much people, and much darker and cooler than the street outside. Chris entered the bar and closed the door behind him. Most of the clientele were too engrossed in their conversations and beverages to look up when he passed, except for a young female who was giggling at something someone in her group just had said. She glanced at Chris when he navigated around the tables towards the bar desk, and then she did a double take. The grey skinned mutant was used to it, so he just pretended to ignore her blatant staring.
Chris climbed up on one of the bar stools and gave the female bartender a small nod. Seeing as she wasn't occupied at the time he started to rifle through his jeans pocket, digging up a some dollar bills and some spare change. He placed the crinkled money on top of the lacquered bar desk and pushed it slightly towards the bartender while he said solemnly: "Five bottles of water, please. Flat. And..." He squinted as he tried to read the signs behind the bar on the wall above the shelves with colorful bottles, but his eyes were too worthless on land for him to be able to read something at that distance. He gave up and turned back towards the blonde bartender, leaning his elbows towards the counter. "How much for a beer?"
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 26, 2014 12:46:41 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
The silence after the otherworldly shriek was somehow even more chilling than the shriek itself. Chris was still frozen deer-in-headlight style. All he could think about in that moment was how far it was back to the exit, and how long it would take him to get there if he ran.
When Chris got frightened, he had a tendency to let his instincts take over. Right now the reason he'd entered the building complex was all but forgotten; reasoning, logic and rational thinking had to take a back seat to pure survival. So when Emily burst out from between the plastic sheets right in front of him like a character from a Victorian-themed slasher flick, waving a crowbar above her head as if she was going to bash his brains out, Chris let out a yelp and jumped three feet. He somehow managed to turn 180 degrees while still in the air and landed running. He scampered a couple of feet towards the exit before his stressed-out brain finally managed to register that it had been Emily back there, so he stopped and looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, she was standing there with the crowbar lowered, all innocence... as if she hadn't just given him the jump-scare of his life. Chris stood hunched over with his hands pressed against his thighs, trying to force himself to calm down and his heart to beat at a somewhat normal pace again. He was able to resist the urge to run towards the door, which was something, but his nerves were still so much on edge that he barely registered what Emily was saying. "Door. Right. Just... never do that again, please?"
He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. He was still feeling a bit frayed, but he skulked past Emily and quickly found the door in question. He reached out for it, hesitating as if he was afraid another scream would tear through the air if he touched the door, and then placed his hands carefully on the worn metal. When nothing happened he looked back at Emily, his fear clearly visible on his face. He gave her a pleading look and whispered: "Let's just get this over with." He was definitely not about to push until Emily had joined him.
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 25, 2014 14:13:52 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
The female mutant just kept moving forward without acknowledging Chris in any way. She probably hadn't heard him. A concerned look spread over Chris' face - he couldn't whisper any louder, out of fear that whoever was in the building would hear them... but if he didn't, Emily wouldn't know he was there. The best option was probably to just follow her silently.
Chris looked around at the non-descriptive shapes standing around the room. Having eyes adjusted to seeing under water with could really be a pain sometimes. He crept closer to one of them, opting to move on all four instead of standing up, and now he could see that it was an old car. Rust. Dented metal. Chris frowned - he'd thought that the shapes would be something that would make more sense inside of a building, like a row of lockers or cabinets or something. But on the other hand he lived in a bath tub in the back of a van, so he guessed he wasn't in a position to judge anybody based on their choice in furnishing.
Now that he'd gotten a better picture of his surroundings he turned around to follow Emily, and... found that she'd disappeared among the hanging sheets of plastic. Damn... she was moving quickly.
He headed towards the area of the room where he'd last seen her (at least he hoped it was her - he hadn't gotten a good look in the darkness) trying not to disturb the hanging plastic. At one point he almost knocked down an old empty soda bottle standing on a cardboard box near the wall, but managed to catch it before it hit the ground. He was hoping that they'd been mistaken to come here. He hadn't heard anything out of place since he'd entered the building, and the scream from before... well, maybe whoever lived here was watching a movie or something. If anybody even lived here. Who would live in a place like this, filled with debris and with plastic hanging from the ceiling? Serial killers, that's who, he thought and instantly hated his brain for making that particular connection.
That's when the loud scream cut through the silence again. Chris froze. Except for his eyes, that were desperately flickering from side to side, and his heart, that was pumping hard as a jackhammer, he was completely rigid.
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 24, 2014 10:51:27 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
I agree with you, Cafas. I recently returned from a long MRO pause, and even if I feel that MotM is a fun tradition it has been slowing down a little of lately. One reason might be the policy that many of the more active players already have won MotM in the past, which makes it less likely that they are nominated instead. So then we end up with two, three nominees.
MotM still have an important point, though - highlighting individuals and maybe bringing people together. I think it makes the site more welcoming to new players. But as Cafas says, this could be achieved in another way. A random cycle of characters would be awesome, but might be hard to program and might require updates (I'm no computer wiz either, so I don't know). I also like the thread of the month idea, I think people would be more keen to nominate good threads.
Maybe we wouldn't have to remove MotM but could just add TotM? Just as a way to get some activity back, while still keeping the MotM?
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 24, 2014 4:54:31 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
“I’m gonna take a look. You can wait here if you want. If I scream, call the police.” Chris nodded and turned his attention back to the building, wary for any new noises. He definitely wasn't the heroic type. Saphirus had briefly tried to pull him into some sort of crime-fighting duo two years prior, but the energetic mutant had probably been the only one who hadn't realized that it was a lost cause to begin with. Chris himself had been aware of it, but had indulged Saph since... well, he was his friend. The grey mutant might not be a hero, but he wanted to help out his friends if he could.
Standing guard seemed to be a suiting task for him, and he appreciated that Emily had given him a way to help out without having to go into the building. There was just one flaw in the plan, he realized just as Emily rounded the corner to the back of the building... and it was a pretty major one. Chris got a cold, sinking feeling in his stomach. This was bad. If Emily got into trouble she'd expect police backup... and he'd be unable to provide it. After weighing indecisively from one foot to the other he made his decision, and quickly scurried after the other mutant.
The backside of the building was dark, even darker than the street. His eyesight was pretty bad, but he could just make out what looked like a sweeping skirt disappearing into one of the lower windows. Screaming to get her attention was out of the question, so instead he silently climbed up on the crate and in through the very same window. He landed swiftly on all four, his bare feet and hands making a low thud! against the floorboards. Chris blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but it was no use. His eyes were too dry, and in the soft light from the moon all he could make out was the blurry, dark shapes around him. A familiar, sharp smell and the sound of small, quick feet against the floorboard told him that there were at least one, maybe more, rats nearby. But he focused on the movement in front of him - Emily, he hoped, as he started crawling towards the shape. "Emily?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. “"I don't have a phone."
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 23, 2014 16:49:58 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
She asked if he'd ever been noodling, and stretched out a hand to pat him on the leg. Chris didn't shy away, like he might have done when he was younger. Instead he gave her a confused look. He still didn't get why people needed to touch each other when they were talking. Always hugging, shaking hands, giving a pat on the shoulder or on the arm or, in this case, the leg. From what he could tell, this was supposed to be a friendly, reassuring gesture. Was he supposed to pat back? When people shook your hand they expected you to shake back, so it just seemed logical to do so. "I've never tried it," he answered while reaching out to give her a quick, singular tap on the leg. "It might be similar to what I do, though. I catch fish by hand, but I've never tried using myself as bait."
When he offered her a piece of fish her answer seemed a bit... off. Chris waited for her to finish the sentence with I don't eat fish or I don't eat meat. Instead she said that she didn't eat, period. He'd probably misheard or misunderstood her, though. Everybody had to eat.
He was just about to ask her for clarification when a sudden noise behind them startled him. Chris was up on his feet quickly, his fast reflexes making him turn around to face the sound almost before he was aware of it. The source seemed to be the building behind the bench. Chris squinted to see if he could make out what had made the crashing noise, and jumped slightly at the sudden scream. Unsure what to do he glanced at Emily. Right now he was battling with his instincts, who were telling him to get as far away from the commotion as possible. That would mean leaving Emily behind, and doing that seemed as a poor repayment for helping him out earlier. He decided to stick around to see what she'd do, at least until the situation would get too dangerous. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was overreacting. "Do you think someone's in trouble?" he mumbled, still trying to get a glimpse of movement behind the boarded-over windows.
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 18, 2014 16:26:25 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
As she spoke, Chris was beginning to realize that he was defeated. There just was no way he'd sway the other mutant. He was on the verge of protesting against the term breaking in again - technically, he hadn't broken anything. But he suspected voicing his thoughts out loud about semantics wouldn't go over particularly well with the mirror-travelling mutant.
What she said made sense. Yes. He could probably go back to the mansion and ask for help. Not just with this latest obsession, but with any questions he'd have. And they'd talk and explain and give him books to read about the subject. But that was just... facts. He didn't want names and dates and experts' opinions, he wanted to know what people thought. He wanted opinions.
Besides, he hadn't been back to the mansion once since his return to New York. There wasn't any particular reason for him not to go, on the contrary, the only friends he'd made during his stay in New York lived there. If they hadn't moved away, or died. Maybe that was why the thought of going back there filled him with unease. Two years was a long time, and much could have changed since he left. "Yes. Maybe. I'll think about-" He froze, reflecting upon a very particular word she'd used when explaining her personal opinion about the matter. "Crap." He turned around and focused his pale yellow eyes back on Mirror. "So you don't like it." Without taking his eyes from her, he put his hands on the edge of the washbasin behind him and then sat up on the edge with his legs dangling in front of him. "What is it you don't like about it?"
Posted by Chris Berg on Jun 18, 2014 15:41:46 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
The grey-skinned mutant now felt more at ease. There was something so calm and collected about Emily, but there was warmth underneath. She was patient, and seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. In a way, she reminded him about Casey. The vague smell was still there, but it wasn't noticeable enough to be disturbing. Besides, Chris had no illusions about his own smell. If you were an amphibian mutant who slept in a tub of still water and never washed your clothes (except for the occasional swim in a body of freshwater) things had a tendency to get a little... rank. If anyone should complain it would be Emily, but so far she hadn't.
Chris leaned his back against the wooden bench and listened to her story while swallowing another piece of raw fish. "Nawlins. New Orleans," he repeated quietly, just to try out the unfamiliar pronunciation. He wondered a bit what the law had been. Chris had been trying to be more aware of the political scene, but then he'd spent two years in the woods, cut off from civilization. He always had problems with grasping the bigger picture. Many people he'd talked to chalked it off as ignorance, but it had more to do with his inability to see the connection between the official decrees people wrote down and what went on in real life. Still, he was at least trying to get a better grasp of the situation. "What was the law?"
He shook his head as he answered her question. "No. I'm from Wisconsin. My grandfather raised me, and I basically grew up outdoors. Hunting, fishing, swimming..." He let one of his fingers track the bench's metal arm rest. "The first time I came to New York I was seventeen. I like it here. It's like... you never know what's going to happen when you wake up. Who you're going to meet, what you're going to see. You can just... go where you want." He paused and added in an absolutely deadpan voice: "Except to buy your own sashimi, apparently." Chris lack of comedic timing made it hard for people who didn't know him to tell when he was attempting to make a joke, but he still tried.
Speaking of sashimi... just as Chris took another piece - a smokey long strip of unagi eel - Emily asked what it tasted like. "You never had sashimi? Most people like sushi better, it's also raw fish but with some sort of sour, sticky rice." He hesitated, not used to describe food or flavors. "It's fresh. It is... raw, but not bloody. You eat it in one piece, and every sort is different. Some are more mild and almost melts in your mouth, others can be overpowering. Strong, salt, a bit smokey." Chris frowned. His description didn't really convey the incredibly different yet still subtle range of flavors, or how just the smell made your tastebuds tingle with anticipation. "It is hard to describe. Here, try a piece," he said while stretching the bag towards Emily.
