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 Elliott on Sept 26, 2017 10:59:58 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
621
48
Nov 27, 2024 10:41:57 GMT -6
Mugen
The girl behind him tried helping. He winced. "Quit helping..." Elliott whispered under his breath. Her words hadn't made the men reexamine their lives. They hadn't taken what she'd said and realized their horrible racist ways were wrong. It had just made them mad. And he'd been so close to making himself seem pathetic and harmless enough to not be worth their troubles, too!
Nice of her to think of him as a man. Not so nice that it meant that, as a man, he deserved several inches of steel stuck in him haphazardly. That hadn't been his intended day plan at all.
One man stepped forward, knife out for all the world to see. Then another. Utterly sloppy, in his mind. This was broad daylight. Anyone could see. If they killed someone, it wouldn't be hard to find witnesses. So long as it was a pretty blond girl, that was. For a strange person like him, there'd probably be few who would step out of their comfortable lives to play some sort of decent human hero role. They wouldn't call the police. They probably wouldn't even notice the body when it was done. Speed bump. Step over. Move along. He'd lived in the bad part of life long enough to see what happens when people stop caring about anything but themselves. He'd been one of those people. Still was, spiritually. Sometimes.
Five men, four with knives.
"Hey listen. Guys." He held up his hands palm outwards, towards them. The bag dangled from one wrist. "This is broad daylight in the middle of the city. Maybe we can go to some alley where you murder me? Might be better for you, in the long run? Whaddya say?"
The first knife thrust was a not-so-subtle answer to the question. No? Great! The helmet clattered into the side of the man's arm as he came at them. Plastic tore with hardly a sound as the blade sheared through, and the helmet went tumbling through the air, freed. Normally, he would have dodged and grabbed the arm, moving in a circular motion to use the man's own force and weight against him in a throw. But then, normally he wouldn't have a young waitress standing helpfully behind him. That was two strikes against her and no amount of blonde and cuteness would counteract the three strike baseball rule.
He grimaced as he snapped his focus to the tumbling helmet, and moved quicker than most people could react. The man's knife was falling end over end at the same time as the helmet was falling, and he wanted to get it before it hit the ground and got scuffed. Hence, when the mouth on the palm of his right hand opened, and a rogue tongue shot out to snag the helmet before it fell, it really wasn't some clever work of a battle master, or some sort of super speed response. It had been the knee jerk reaction of a man child who didn't want his brand new helmet getting its paint job ruined bare moments after buying the damned thing. The tongue wrapped around the helmet, and-- in the nick of time, might it be noted-- swung it up and into the back of the man's head as he bent to retrieve his knife. The first man hit the sidewalk on his forehead with a meaty thud. Which just left three others to handle, and a fourth without a knife.
Oh yeah. Nudity. Well, it was good his waking her hadn't made her mad at him because explaining a naked Amber was probably going to make her mad enough. As for the t-shirt... the t-shirt... he firmly remembered setting it down for a second when making a phone call. And then, he'd-- forgotten to pick it up. He winced at his carelessness, and prepared for an explanation. He needn't have bothered. Shiv had prepared for, if not this, then some sort of eventuality that would've required an emergency blanket. The emergency probably wouldn't have been nudity.
Emergency nudity, now there's a thought...
Shiv asked her questions, and Cheshire didn't bother interjecting his own. He'd already asked Amber a few questions. No need to crush her under the weight of more... though he did have one question.
"I've got a question too," he glanced at Shiv, hoping she'd not object to his interruption. "On your world, was there a mutant registration act? I'm curious about differences in history." History was important, as much as groups and social attitudes.
And there Mirage went again, being mean to him for no reason. Was it too much to ask for a little faith? To give him some benefit of the doubt? Benji ground his teeth together and replied tersely. "Listen. This thing killed a cop. If it keeps on doing s#*t like that, we might get another registration act, sunshine. And that's something I'm never going to let happen again." Then, he stepped away from the window, screwing up his nerves and rolling his shoulders. If Mirage had no trust for him, he'd just have to earn it.
He didn't immediately tap into his speed as he approached Blue. His power was best when he could use it to surprise people, or to overwhelm. At that moment, he didn't think either thing was of much use to him. Blue was made of water, and as such, none of Benji's attacks had been able to connect. They'd gone right through. He needed time to come up with a good plan. He needed to take it slow.
He ignored anything Mirage was saying, any shouts to leave and go home. Ignored imagined insults about letting a real hero handle this. A real x-man. To hell with that. Benji paced around Blue cautiously, ready for a violent attack. Oddly, Blue stood still, watching him just as cautiously, and didn't do much else. He circled the motionless mutant, and it turned its head to track him. And in a flash of lightning, he saw it. Behind the eyes, in the center of the pointed head, there was a walnut-shaped green mass. It gave off little electric arcs... at least, he imagined them when he put two and two together to come out with 'brain'.
Well then. If it had a brain, he could hurt it. He'd have to get through six inches of water skull, but-- in a blur of motion and blue streamers, he rushed to one side. Metal groaned as he tore off the end of a gutter piping fixture. Water gushed messily as the pipe came free. Another burst of speed, and the pipe sliced up through the creatures chin, to pass bare inches from the walnut center of its head. Water came off Blue in an arc as it leaned away from the attack. Then a big pointy hand swept down.
Water slid under his sneakers as Benji skidded to a stop on the sidewalk, one hand down to steady himself, the other holding the pipe at a horizontal angle. He'd dodged the arm at the last moment, blasting backwards in a reverse surge of motion and light. He felt a tugging at his energy reserves that told him he needed a moment to recharge. This was bad, however, because he really didn't think he'd get that moment. Not in a fight. Already, Blue was plodding towards him. Slowly. As all of this was happening, something else was happening somewhere else.
It came through the mirror world like a wraith. White, trailing pale rags, it glided from reflective surface to reflective surface. Ten minutes ago, it had been in a car mirror, seconds later, the reflection in a window. Down the street, through a long puddle. Five minutes after that, it had rounded a corner and dove into another puddle's lit surface, right under a cars tire. It loved rainy nights like these, so easy. So simple to interact with the world outside. To get really close to people. Closer than a damned mirror.
As it slid through reflections and skirted shadows, it searched. Where was it? The thing it was searching for. The cause of all those recent deaths... it stopped in a shop window, eyes locking on a blue form.
"Hello, hello," it muttered. It's voice was brittle and thready. A knife-edge smile slid over its pale face. Where it's eyes should have been, there was pale flat layers of skin... yet it could see perfectly well through the reflections of the world. And it saw... it stopped. He saw something in the reflection that wasn't in what was being reflected. Like him. It's back was towards him, massive and muscled. His corpse- pale skin tugged around his mouth as he smiled. "Hey there," he said amiably. "Don't often see people on this side. Any special occasion?"
Asking what a man's mutant power was... totally wasn't sharing intelligence. He swiveled on his hips, and squinted at Mirage behind his visor in a look that could fondly be described as annoyance. Here he was, sharing all he knew... and the man wanted to hold out on him, and ask for more. He stepped over a long puddle stretching across the sidewalk as he came to his reply.
"Witty commentary," Benji stated. His voice was the only dry thing between them. He opened his mouth to say more, maybe to tell Mirage off about not sharing information when he himself had just chosen to do the same, but lightning and thunder cut him short. They say if you count the seconds between a lightning flash and thunder rumbling, you can get a good idea of how close a storm is to you. A mile for every second, he thought? There was no delay. The storm was right over them. And if things hadn't already been going terrible for him that night, the reflection in the window would have surprised him more.
In the mirror, to the right of Mirage, a blue form had... formed was the only word for it. It was long and tall and had a pointed skull, like the head of a squid, with sharp-looking cone fingers on each three-fingered hand, and long pointed elf boot feet. Its body shifted and flowed like water as it came together, a hair over 7 feet tall. Blue wasn't its only color. It had mixed patches of aqua and green and teal. The patches crashed against the edges of its features like waves on the sea, but they never broke the surface. Bright orange eyes flowed in the darkness, watching them from its spot next to the x-man. Except... it wasn't next to the X-man. Because Mirage was inside the glass. Which meant--
Benji reacted way quicker than he had any right to react as he spun to face the water creature. Lightning lovingly caressed its features as another flash lit the area, like cheesy movie special effects meant to ramp up the scare factor.
It stood. Loomed. This was their target, yeah? In a blaze of speed, Benji blurred forward trailing light blue streaks of light. The burst of speed lasted a second, but during that second, he landed a punch, and spun into a turning side kick that caught the water creature dead in the gut. The attacks hit with all the force of several major league fastballs, but unfortunately for Benji, they splashed through the creature's body harmlessly, sending little water droplets flying away. Aside from that, nothing changed. His entire blitzkrieg offensive fell dead in the water.
The creature looked down at Benji's fist as he thrust it one last time in its gut... at regular speeds. The rain patterned against its water body, ripples disturbing the flowing form. It eyed him, exuding 'gruff glower.'
"Uh. Hi there. Guess you didn't much like that?" Benji laughed. It wasn't funny. Why are you laughing, idiot?
The creatures head swished left and right. Then it made a fist. Benji honestly expected to hear its knuckles crack.
How does one fight something that isn't solid, he wondered? Obviously, you use your head. Benji retreated in a rush, trailing ribbons of light that illuminated nothing. Stopped right next to the window and Mirage. "We need a fire extinguisher or a TASER or paper towels or something." He never took his eyes off Blue.
((Ooc let me control Blue, I'm planning something. He will shrug off most anything. ))
Hire someone to--- well, that was borderline genius. Money didn't grow on trees, of course, but it wouldn't be too hard to pick up further funds to add to whatever he'd saved from working for Jaager. He really needed to look into getting a 9-5 job, Or maybe something as simple as dishwashing. How he was getting money now really wouldn't fit with what he was planning to do soon. Maybe... maybe the Mansion might have an opening?
He smiled at her, as he thought those thoughts. "That's not a bad idea at all." He said.
The bus made the sounds of brakes and stopping. He glanced at the street sign outside, and realized it was his stop. He'd lost track of time. Elliott hardly noticed as she got ready to leave while he was busy stuffing his helmet back into the plastic bag. When he did, the humor of the situation struck him. She was getting off on his stop, too?
He stepped off the bus a heartbeat or two after the waitress, and would have made some joke about his not being 'a stalker, I swear!' But he noticed the people shouting, and his mind diverted towards potential danger quick as you can say Jack Robinson.
There were five of them. Two had signs. One read God hates mutants, and bore some imagery that reminded him of various hate groups he'd seen on television. The other said The Church of Humanity Lives. Well, ^*@t!
"Get behind me," Elliott aid quickly. Without waiting for her approval, or any sign she'd heard him at all, he slid in front of her and swept a hand behind him to make sure she was firmly in his shadow. His body slipped into a fighting stance that was casual, but balanced, feet and legs spread and poised for motion. As the bus, their one possible retreat option, pulled away from the bus stop, Elliott stood his ground and addressed the group.
"Gentlemen," he said calmly. "In a situation like this one, with people shouting epithets and rushing towards a man like they're about to get violent, it's a stunning wonder I haven't laid you all out on the ground." He smiled, and realized that had been the exact opposite of the calm tact he'd been going for. Ah well. Who cared? "What, pray tell, do you want?"
One of them sneered at him, and he was missing teeth. "Man?" He said. "I don't see any men in front of me. Just a freak."
It'd be easy as breathing to swing that bag with its helmet right in his face like a mace, but he didn't escalate. That just would have been silly. Sillier than his initial jibes. "Oh yeah? If I'm not a man, maybe we can just all go on our way. A huge waste of time, beating up someone who isn't even man enough to deserve your respect."
Posted by Elliott on Sept 16, 2017 13:01:24 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
621
48
Nov 27, 2024 10:41:57 GMT -6
Mugen
Her response was thoughtful and polite. Seemed like that was her default setting, then, and not the Waitress mode most people wore like armor when they took up their mantle of the job.
She asked him where he was off to, and he had a good answer. It wasn't even a lie. Why would one lie about it?
"Costume shopping." Elliott nodded at the bag next to him. "October is nearly here. I was going to get something good together."
She couldn't quite see the helmet's design from where it was inside the plastic bag, but she'd be able to see its shape. A rounded, very noticeable motorcycle helmet-type shape. What sort of costume Elliott could put together with that, it wasn't quite clear. Motorcycle racer, perhaps? Some sort of fiery motorbiker from Hell? He didn't even have the entire costume planned out, himself. Maybe she'd be able to help him solidify his ideas?
"Not quite sure what I'm going with yet." He's smile turned crooked. "I saw the helmet and I thought 'Gee, that's cool-looking.' I mean--" He pulled it out, and showed it to her, since they were sharing. It was a dark black motorcycle helmet with an interesting paint job. Lighter gray outlined a shape like a skull within the darkness, dark visor almost looking like a set of shades. There was a nose shape just beneath it (real, not a skeletal hole), and someone had painted a vicious sideways toothy grin across the lower jaw of the helmet. All in all, it looked badass. "Maybe some sort of skeletal biker theme? I gotta find someone who sells three-fingered biker gloves, if I do that..." Or regular ones, if he decided to pretend to have human hands. But he didn't need help finding those, in that case. "What do you think?" Elliott looked to her.
Posted by Elliott on Sept 14, 2017 13:43:05 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
621
48
Nov 27, 2024 10:41:57 GMT -6
Mugen
Elliott arched a not-quite eyebrow, and then smiled a friendly smile at her. "From fifteen minutes ago?" He said, then tilted his head and tapped it like he was trying desperately to recall. He made a production out of it. "Yeah. I remember. Small world." Or small ten block radius. Whatever.
Old Elliott would have wondered if she were following him. What the game was. But he was trying to be a new and improved more outgoing Elliott. He'd seen his wolf friend Tyson lose his mind to his mutation, and life was simply too short to live with all the paranoia and fear. It certainly hadn't made the lead up to Tyson's feral fight with a polar bear any better.
Elliott followed her onto the bus, and paid with his handy dandy bus card - a tool no New Yorker should be without, then found a seat... which just so happened to be next to her. No other seats were free.
"Guess you'll get to enjoy that sun and beautiful day you were talking about," he said to her, politely seating himself. "I, personally, plan to go get a tan." He smiled. A joke. An in joke, really, with himself, as he did not tan. But a joke all the same.
He moved to stand by the microscope as she sat down, exhausted. It was an interesting thought, they he could help her. A real case of the student teaching the teacher.
"I could certainly explain what I was thinking when I used my power." He agreed. There was a pensive look on his face, as if he were trying to think of the best way to handle the explanation, and didn't want to overstep or over explain. "That might help you somehow."
Under the microscope, he saw what she'd been talked by about. It was interesting. It told him one thing: he probably needed skin to surface in order to stick. All the stuff he was dealing with was physical in nature, not supernatural. Once he was satisfied, he stepped away, stopping in front of Xavia where she sat. He scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"So, yeah. When I was using my power, I did a little of what you'd suggested... focusing on a visual idea. A goal. But I also did something I'd picked up from meditation. I focused on my body's energy points, and tried to use that... somehow." He frowned, and nodded. "It might not be useful to you, but I could show you some meditation tricks. You wouldn't have to access your power. Sitting and focusing on breathing and your own body's energies doesn't seem like it would hurt the babies to me. It might be worth a try. Then again, it might work better for me than you." He shrugged one shoulder. It certainly couldn't get to consider... if she hadn't already tried it, that was. He certainly was no meditation guru.
Posted by Elliott on Sept 13, 2017 10:21:15 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
621
48
Nov 27, 2024 10:41:57 GMT -6
Mugen
Mean hash browns? It took resolve not to crack a joke about hopin they were nice hash browns instead. Thankfully, they were both strong enough to avoid such puns, and everyone was happier for it. He got his coffee, and she got a polite smile and a thanks.
Good food takes time. This wasn't McDonald's breakfast. It couldn't be rushed. So he waited his thirty minutes. And it was worth the wait.
"Everything looks phenomenal," Elliott smiled at her. "Thank you. I don't need anything else."
Careful of the hot plate, Elliott dug in. It tasted as good as it looked.
As he ate, his mind wandered. Secret identities. He'd been keeping low on the criminal side of things since he'd helped that cop, and got on the rat mutant's bad side. It had been worth it. Probably he first step towards making right on what he'd done for Ragnarok. His costume would have to be clever, to conceal his identity, because green skin and antennae stand out. Five-fingered gloves, maybe? With two flopping uselessly, it'd still conceal his three-fingered hands. A helmet. Shoes. Of course gloves and shoes would get in the way of the climbing tricks he had, but... he could handle himself without it. And he could always take those off in a pinch. Yeah...
Time drifted on as he pondered and finished his meal. He paid, and stepped out to kill some time vefore the bus. Bought a motorcycle helmet with a goofy grin painted on its face at a nearby shop, then hit the bus stop. Shopping took five, maybe ten minutes? Helmet purchased, he popped off to the bus.
Posted by Elliott on Sept 13, 2017 10:01:20 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
621
48
Nov 27, 2024 10:41:57 GMT -6
Mugen
Mirage. What an interesting name! Personally, he would have gone with something closer to what the persons power was, like mirror or glass, but then, that gave a lot of info away. He'd fallen into Cheshire. If he'd gone Native with the superhero schtick, Speedy or Quickly or Blur or Flash would have been obvious choices. But he hadn't. He'd quoted a book, and ran with it. Though he did sort of disappear leaving the afterimage of a grin when he used his speed while wearing his helmet. So... who was he to judge other people's names? Though mirages were caused by heat, and he supposed the guy was pretty hot, categorically speaking... maybe it fit better than he'd initially thought.
"Recon too, huh." Benji nodded. His helmet caught a bit of reflected light from the street lamp with the motion. "Great minds." He left the 'think alike' from the quote drop off, implied. Another quote came to mind for him, one he didn't say. Something from Sun Tzu. The basic gist was to engage people with what they expected, because it confirmed their projections about you, and settled then hmmm into the mindset of responding to something predictable. Then, when they fell into a pattern of predictable responses, focused on expecting the obvious, they get hit hard when you drop the hammer to hit them hard in that 'extraordinary moment' --- when they respond to that which they cannot anticipate. That sort of applied here. How to share that quote as something relatable, though?
"Recon is the smart choice." He pared his thoughts down to something precise and succinct. "The more we know our enemy, the better we can respond. Figure out their mindset, and exploit it. Lull them into a false sense of security by reacting in predictable ways... then lower the boom when they least expect it. Surprise them by anticipating their moves, and preempting them. Good strategy." He added in a glowing tone of compliment, as if Mirage had been the one to suggest it. "Really mirrors Sun Tzu."
"Let's talk and walk," Benji said. He started down the sidewalk. Kept an eye on the windows of shops beside him as lightning and thunder played out in the background. "Pool data. I'll go first."
This hadn't been his first night out in the rain. He'd done his research. He went into brief detail about media reports and police statements, victim names where they had them, and a basic rundown of the areas bodies had been found in. He would have liked to see autopsy reports or police reports, but protocol and his general law abiding nature (that didn't discriminate against vigilantism) kept those out of his hands. The whole thing took about two minutes, after which he fell silent. A silence Mirage would be free to disturb with his own findings. If he had any. Cheshire wanted to assuage any worries Mirage had about him by showing some professionalism. Hopefully, drowning them both in information would help towards that end.
No more dumb jokes, he decided. Now, they were actually being serious. Could one really fault him, though? Khal Drogo had given him a straight line, and he'd had the punchline. Of course, in serious matters, a serious mood was probably sensible. (And when they were in danger, he would be serious, seriously). But for now, that groan had been clear and faking evidence of displeasure. Which kind of made him smirk, dammit. What was wrong with him?
"Maybe they want blood?" He suggested. "Or, I dunno. Something fresh. Just because you and I can survive on bread and water, it doesn't mean we should. Variety is the spice of life... I'm not sure if that's right. I'm not used to getting into the mindset of criminals. I just figure--" Benji trailed off, then picked up again, answering that question that had got lost amid his exposition. "I helped Shiv out a while back when she needed backup."
"I've been doing recon, to help the X-men out. Sharing intelligence. Not sure I caught your name, by the way." He said. If they were being up front about things, it wouldn't do to keep referring to the man mentally as Jason Momoa.
Lightning. He counted the time between the thunderclaps. It was about two miles off now. The storm was really moving.
Not raining inside? Well. So it was. At first, Benji had wondered if this person were paper thin and just clinging to the window in two dimensional flatness. That would have let them get wet, but it also would have been incredibly fascinating. No such luck. There were inside the glass. Was it all glass, or all reflective surfaces, he wondered. The possibilities were mind boggling. Recon, travel maybe (if it were from surface to surface, rather than walking from one pane to another ( which would have been a pain. Far less useful). And for that matter, what if... None of his thoughts showed the awe behind the helmet's "mask" as he contemplated the complex nature of a mutation. That was just him. He was a nerd.
Yeah guy was just our friendly neighborhood Horselord. Sounded like an x-man to Benji. Had Shiv ever mentioned members when she'd spoken of membership? He couldn't recall. Whatever loyalty this man had, Benji knew a setup line when he heard one.
"What Hotblooded American male wouldn't want to be out in a rainstorm, looking to get sucked dry?" He asked. Then, he paused a beat. Was he taking this eternal joker Cheshire persona too far? "Let me rephrase that." He tried again, more tactfully. "My name is Cheshire. I'm out patrolling for Shiv." Not that she was aware of it. Or that it was really for her. It was for him. But he wasn't going to be so obvious as to-- well, he cut that thought out before it even finished. Obvious kind of was what he was being, wasn't it?
"So far," he noted quickly, hoping a large outflow of information might help distance himself from all the damn one-liners he was giving. "I've deduced that this mutant only goes out during rainstorms, and that most likely, there's something there. Perhaps, they have skin like an amphibian, that requires moisture to stay good? And if the bodies they leave behind are dessicated, where does the water go? Do they need it? If their mutation requires a lot of water to function properly, they could be feeding. And if so, where would they hide between storms? Some place wet and dark..: if we figure out the answers to these questions, it'll serve us better than just waiting for a lady to scream in the night, then rushing to the sound of turmoil."
Thankfully, no woman screamed on cue just then, to the sound of turmoil. It just kept on raining. A flash of light. Thunder crashed. It was getting nearer.
It would have been wonderful and magical if that surprise commentary had elicited a reaction of shock from the fledgling superhero. Something like staggering back and cringing in upon himself, maybe? Accompanied by a very Manly high- pitched squeal. Sadly, Benji wasn't so easily startled. At least, not by celebrities who suddenly appeared where celebrities should not have been.
"Oh, that's me. The master." He quipped wryly, jabbing himself in the chest with A thumb. "Not bait, though. Usually, I'm the baiter. Wait. Why am I talking about baiting with Khal Drogo?" He peered at the not-reflection in the darkness of the window. With his tinted visor, the squint was largely unnoticeable, but the forward lean of his body, hands on hips, would be good body language to go off of when reacting to his words.
Since this person hadn't launched into some visceral attack, and had exposed himself in favor of making cheeky commentary in the guise of a Hollywood actor, Benji kind of figured he wasn't the one who'd been murdering people... it was a big assumption, but then, he'd already made an ass of both of them with his asinine remark. A baiting master. Hopefully, the off-color pun was lost on his Sun and Stars. The man in the reflection. If he could do other faces, why hadn't he gone about as Michael Jackson? He was really missing out on a The man in the mirror joke. With all due response to the departed.
"We've already established my status as bait," he grinned behind the helmet. "So what are you doing suffering the rain?"
Lightning flashed. Thunder rumbled in the distance five heartbeats later.
))