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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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 20, 2015 17:26:24 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
613
48
Nov 7, 2023 13:20:52 GMT -6
Mugen
>>”Don’t look like Halloween to me, a mutant maybe but not really Halloween.”
"Alien, actually." Elliott smirked. He hadn't said it, but he was certainly thinking it. It was fine out in the fresh air. It didn't need to hide.
He wasn't smirking when the guy got pinned and read his rights. Classic cop move. He frisked him and found a gun. Why the guy hadn't used it was certainly clear. In the crowd, there was no guarantee he'd have hit his target, and missing and killing some innocent bystander is bad for business. Even for amateurs. Maybe even especially. The guy wasn't talking, though. At least he had brains enough for that.
Ice cop had three wallets. Elliott had known the mugger was an amateur, but three? Newb. Ice cop asked for his real name... and started flipping through wallets, no doubt looking for identification. That was a problem he'd anticipated... and even worried about when he'd gone the route he'd chosen to go. It was garbage, but suffice it to say, he had a plan.
Elliott stared at ice cop blankly for a second. Then, he scratched his leg, right by his right front pants pocket. Paused awkwardly. One of his eyes got bigger as his facial expression changed from blankness to surprise. "Hold on a second... damn. I'm an idiot." A hand went into his pants pocket and whipped out a lightly bulging brown wallet, leather cracked lightly from age. Elliott grimaced and let out an embarrassed grunt. Male for "I'm so sorry." "Ugh. I guess he didn't take it after all. Just bowled me over. With how you were shouting 'thief', I guess I just assumed..." What was it they say about people who assume?
Posted by Elliott on Sept 19, 2015 19:38:26 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
613
48
Nov 7, 2023 13:20:52 GMT -6
Mugen
This guy was like a walking stereotype. Elliott grunted at what he was saying, without really committing to any of it. Crime doesn't pay? Seriously. Next, he'd be cramming a donut into his cake donuthole, and taking his stale coffee black.
Did he want to press charges? "Nah," Elliott said. He followed ice dude to the guy on the ground. He kept talking as he followed in the mutant's wake. "No need. Getting my wallet back. Didn't get hurt. Get him some help, though. Next time, he might run into someone who doesn't set his phasers to stun." Amateur hour was looking miserable, and Elliott wasn't impressed. As they approached him, Ice Cop asked him his name. "Friends call me October," he said. It was true. Some had. It was one of his many aliases, and he wasn't really lying. "Because I look like I'm in some sort of Halloween costume." He added wryly.
Posted by Elliott on Sept 19, 2015 19:10:03 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
613
48
Nov 7, 2023 13:20:52 GMT -6
Mugen
He pushed himself to his feet as the crowd reacted.
Ice. The freaking guy he'd stolen used frakking ice. He lifted himself off the ground on some sort of ice platform, and just (if you'll excuse the expression) froze him in his tracks. Well. At least the guy hadn't shouted something like "Freeze" before he'd done it. That would have been too much. The would-be-pickpocket was on the ground now, stuck in ice. Which was great, all things considered. Kept everyone's focus off him. Everyone except Mr. Hero, that was.
Elliott felt the guy's attention before he heard it. Well, gee. If you shout "He stole my wallet," and someone shoots ice at the guy to help you get your wallet back, it only makes sense they'll try and help you out. Idiot. He mentally reprimanded himself. He should have left off the last part to keep the human (scratch that, mutant worm baby) from giving him the time of day.
He made a short show of dusting himself off. "Yeah," Elliott muttered. "Just great. Nothing broken." There were several ways he could play this, and he was thinking over them quickly. Option 1: Let the guy get him his wallet back. With any luck, other guy had stolen several and his could be any one he desired. Option 2: Acting. Say he still had it, and was mistaken. And option 3: He never got to option three, and missed his window on option 2 because the guy was watching him too closely for him to make some big show. He stopped patting off the dust on his posterior, and looked towards the thief. Said thief was struggling against the ice, barely. Intense cold really takes the fight out of some people. Elliott's voice dropped a notch. "I'm lucky he didn't try and mug me in an alley or something. Must have had a guilty conscience to bolt like he did. Probably an amateur." His lips quirked in mild disdain as he spoke. The way he said amateur was scathing.
Posted by Elliott on Sept 19, 2015 16:53:49 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
613
48
Nov 7, 2023 13:20:52 GMT -6
Mugen
So the guy started shouting for someone named Sara. That was new. A good indication the human had noticed something missing, it was. Elliott kept walking at the same pace he had been. His eyes scanned for exit paths from beneath the edge of his hood. He didn't see the guy's reaction. He only heard it. In his mind, he imagined the human scanning the crowd, eyes narrowing on his back.
Had it gotten colder? Perhaps the weather was changing? He dismissed the thought as unimportant.
"Stop, thief!" The person had yelled. Just great. Elliott thought. This wasn't his first rodeo, though. He also apparently wasn't the only one picking pockets in the crowd that day. Someone barreled in to him and sent him whirling to the ground. As he turned, he noticed deft hands snaking in to his hoodie's front pocket. Oh hell no! Was this some sort of flipping irony? Someone yells stop thief and the pickpocket pickpockets the pickpocket on his way out. Elliott landed on his ass.
There was only one course of action the green-skinned mutant could take. He hauled back his hood and joined in. "Stop, thief! That guy took my wallet!!" It wasn't his wallet, really. It was the other guy's wallet. But nobody needed to know that. His wallet was still safe in his front right pants pocket. He definitely would have noticed if someone had reached in and tried to grab his wallet there.
Turning a crowd on another thief wasn't part of his usual MO, but this was new territory and a new city. Getting caught this early on doing something as stupid as this was bad for business. The other guy could take the fall.
Posted by Elliott on Sept 19, 2015 16:30:01 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
613
48
Nov 7, 2023 13:20:52 GMT -6
Mugen
Bump bump, some sleight of hand, and he had another wallet. "Oops, sorry," Elliott said carelessly. He kept walking past the guy, wondering idly when he'd lost the eye. When you're a career criminal, you notice things or you die. He'd noticed that. Not one to count money while walking, he'd slipped his hand in the pocket of his hoodie so the wallet wouldn't be visible. One step, two. Three steps casually away from the eyepatch guy, ducking his head. He was going to get away to his alley to empty the cash out from it and toss the rest. He'd done that with all the other wallets. Wasn't carrying around 12 wallets in a hoodie pocket or something stupid. He had his own. Somebody entered the space between him and the other guy.
In a moment of careless curiosity, Elliott pulled out the wallet to take a closer look at it. Something had been bugging him since he'd nabbed it. It didn't feel like a regular wallet. Now he knew why. There was a badge on the wallet. The guy was a cop. He didn't know what MRC was, and frankly, he didn't care. You don't get to be a successful criminal going around stealing from cops. Breaking into a run would be too obvious, so he kept walking. He slid the wallet away again, hopefully before anyone noticed. Ducked his head back down, and just kept moving. With luck, nobody would notice... and then he could get a meat-lover's slice.
Posted by Elliott on Sept 19, 2015 13:46:53 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
613
48
Nov 7, 2023 13:20:52 GMT -6
Mugen
All big cities are generally the same. You get large areas, they fill with large crowds, and as things get more cramped and crowded, people stop paying attention to anyone but themselves. People see a lot, but if it doesn't concern them, they don't always say anything. Sure, you might get the occasional individual who still thinks the world is a happy place and wants to help others. But as a whole, people don't run around stopping crimes as they take place. Which is why at 10AM on a Monday on a sidewalk in the middle of New York absolutely filled with people, Elliott had managed to steal 12 wallets. And he hadn't even been pick-pocketing for very long that day.
Nobody was paying attention to the guy in the black hoodie, even though the weather was hot enough to not need a hood up. And the fact that he had used a big red tongue extending from his hand for at least two of those pockets picked hadn't attracted attention. He'd been careful. He'd been very careful. That's important when you're a green man who looks like an alien. You tend to stick out if you aren't wearing your hood up on a busy city street.
As a runner, one tends to make deliveries for people who aren't always good guys. But when you're new to the city and haven't made a ton of contacts, work comes slow. If he'd had a job, he'd have been happy to work that. Since he didn't, he was pooling money for pizza. It was a sort of crowd-funding that was highly user-motivated. Like the people that say for every mile they run, they'll get X amount of dollars in donations, except here it was every wallet he acquired, and those wallets didn't always have equal amounts. One more, and he'd be good for a while. Elliott scanned the crowd.
Character's full name: Elliott Thomas Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: October, Ell. Gender: Male Age: 22 Date of Birth: 10/31/1992 Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Roswell, New Mexico Nationality: Unknown. "American." Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: Unknown. "Alien."
Appearance
Hair color and style: Bald. Two black antennae sticking up from his head. Skin Tone: Lime green. Eye Color: Black. Height: 6'2" Build: Elliott has a runner's build.
Visible mutation:
Elliott has an alien appearance. He has green skin and pointy little fingers (3 of them), good for poking things inquisitively. Elliott has two toes on each foot. He doesn't have toenails. His eyes appear red, but only sometimes. His eyes have a third eyelid (a nictitating membrane), that is transparent, but filtered red. Beneath this, he has humanoid eyes that appear normal. They’re blue. If you get in too close for comfort, you can almost see the dot of the pupil beneath the red. Most of the time, he will keep his nictitating membrane up. He only brings it down if he wants to look more human. Switching between the two seems to bother people, and they seem to respond more to the blue eyes, so… he keeps the red up most of the time. Screw people. Although, if the right person asks... he might show them the baby blues. He doesn’t have visible ears. The sides of his head are flat. He can hear sounds around him similar to how many ear-less reptiles do: through his skin. His body is entirely hairless. Instead of a protruding nose, he has two vertically-slitted nostrils. Elliott also has two black antennae. He has a smile like a zipper that all the ladies love. On each hand, he has a thin line like a scar that cuts horizontally from near his thumb to the other side of his palm. When he wills it, they open up to reveal mouths. These mouths house the last element of his mutation, prehensile hand tongues. See mutation section for further details.
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: No scars, tattoos, or piercings. Other features: A thin line across both palms. It looks kind of like a scar, but it isn't.
Everyday clothing style: Elliott wears band tees, striped shirts, and blue jeans. He likes leather jackets, hooded jackets, and hoodies. When it's cold out, Elliott might wear a stocking cap. He wears hats and hoods, and tends to keep his head covered. Style is a mix between classic punk, indie, and whatever the hell he wants. Not. A. Hipster. Uniform: No uniform. He isn't a superhero. Sleepwear: T-Shirt and shorts. Maybe he doesn't even change after a hard day. Miscellaneous clothing: Red scarf. Leather jacket. Black hoodie. Combat boots.
Character
Personality: Elliott is a nice guy, but his time as an orphan has left him jaded and slow to trust. He might be paranoid in certain situations. If he trusts someone, he'll do what he can to help them. If he doesn't trust someone, he may steal from them or get them in trouble. He's usually focused on doing things in his own best interests. Elliott has a criminal past. He's stolen, and he's sold stolen and illegal goods. He's a thief and a pickpocket, but Elliott isn't a mugger. He isn't a murderer. Elliott will protect someone if their life is in peril, though he might not do it in the most heroic fashion. Rather than fighting to save a life, he'll work to preserve it. If an employer wants someone killed, he'll argue against it by touting past usefulness, or the foolishness of murder. Murder is bad for business. It attracts unwanted attention, and you have to put in extra effort to do it right, so they don't live through an attempt and so it isn't traced back to you. Elliott is fairly neutral when it comes to good and bad, but he leans towards good. In Dungeons and Dragons terms, the man is a wishy-washy neutral good.
Hobbies/ Interests: Elliott practices parkour, Free-running, Capoeira, and Taekwondo. He doesn't practice Muay thai, Savate, or Brazilian Kick-boxing, but he's interested in them. Martial arts are one of his interests and hobbies. Elliott also likes skateboarding, reading science fiction and fantasy books, and listening to music. New York gets some of the best concerts. He also thinks robotics kits are incredibly cool.
Job or part time job and description: Elliott has a criminal history. He's been a pickpocket, a thief, and a purveyor of stolen goods. Currently, he's working as a "runner" in New York. A Runner is a sort of delivery boy who makes sure things get there on time, with the least possible attracted attention.
Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Elliott fears the worst of humanity. He saw what happened with the Registration acts and the camps, and he has read enough history to see that humanity isn't always the most accepting. As an alien, he's concerned he may never meet his people. He may be lumped together with mutants, and humans will treat him differently because of it. Elliott also has a healthy fear of New York Law Enforcement and the dangerous criminal element he works with. He does not ever plan to make enemies.
Special talents: Elliott has spent a lot of time free-running and practicing parkour. His job requires him to run, and he's good at it. He has practiced Capoeira since he was 10, and started training in Taekwondo off and on after the age of 17. He isn't a martial arts master, but he's talented enough in both. He didn't train in them for self defense. He trained to help learn balance, both emotional and physical. His foster parents at the time thought it was a good idea. On the streets, Elliott has picked up some sleight of hand. Also, pickpocketing and knowing how to handle a knife (Pro tip: Pointy end goes in first). He can pick some locks, and carries his own set of lockpicks.
Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Elliott has lived in a world of greys. He's done many things to survive. While he isn't one to kill, he'll defend himself, and thievery and selling stolen goods aren't things Elliott is opposed to. In D&D terms, he'd probably be closer to neutral good than chaotic neutral. He does have a code he abides to. While he might betray someone to save his own skin, he isn't one to happily let people he likes take the fall for him. Elliott also has a chauvinist side, in that he doesn't like seeing women get hurt, and might intercede in certain situations where he can be of use. He'll also do silly things like hold open doors and pay for dinner.
Mutations
To summarize, Elliott is a Mutant Alien Grasshopper Frog Man.
Alien Appearance and Physiology - Enhanced Legs and Hand tongues.
-- Super Kicks, Super Jumping and Landing, Increased Run Speed. --
Mutation description:
Elliott looks like an alien. See his appearance section for a description. His mutation based his physiology off that of frogs and grasshoppers. Grasshoppers have antennae that have a sensory function. Grasshoppers and frogs both share the trait of keen jumping skills. Grasshoppers can land if they jump from on high. Elliott's legs are strengthened for both feats. His legs and lower body have been enhanced to improve his speed, strength and durability. He can run faster than most humans. He can jump farther and survive greater falls. He can kick very hard. Finally, much like frogs have a tongue that they can use to catch flies, Elliott has two prehensile hand-tongues, with one housed in each hand. It's an alien twist on an old classic.
Strengths: Elliott can run the 100 meter dash in approximately 9.6 seconds. He can long jump nearly 30 feet from a running start. From a standing position, he can long jump 12ft 2 3/4 inches. These numbers are all slightly better (or equal) to Olympic athlete records for the sport in question. The only one that Elliott exceeds is the standing high jump. The record for that sport was 1.65 m (6.23 feet). He can jump upwards 20 feet from a standing start, thanks to his mutation. His body has been strengthened to allow him to land better, and to stand up to the increased power of his kicks. Elliott's legs and back can handle falls from heights of up to 60 feet. If he falls further, he will hurt himself. His average kick is equivalent to that of a fully-trained taekwondo master. A grazing kick will hurt like hell. Greater speed equals greater power. If he has the time and distance to build up for a Super Kick, it'll hit like a battering ram. Spinning while he does capoeira might also allow him to build up a super kick. A Super Kick is strong enough to send people flying. It may break a bone or two if he gets a good kick in.
On each three-fingered hand, Elliott has a mouth. These mouths have jagged teeth around the rim of them, and contain his extending tongues. Each tongue is 12’4, twice his height. This tongues extend, and can be moved in the air like extensions of himself. They can even carry things. And drool on them. And taste them. Yeck! The tongues can function like grappling hooks, and are strong enough to haul Elliott in. If he grabs a ledge and gets a good grip, he can pull himself up.
Hand-tongues are immune to most germs and diseases.
Weaknesses and Limitations: Olympic Athletes operate on what some might consider a "super-human" level of speed, but compared to mutants with actual super speed, Elliott is on the low end of the grading curve. His average kick is well within human levels. A super kick requires some speed to build it up. It's a dangerous blow, but it's also predictable. Super kicks tax his body. He can only do that move two or three times in a given day before he needs to rest. His jumping is super-human, and requires enhanced leg strength. His leg strength is super human, to allow for those jumps. He has enhanced durability to help him in the event of a fall. This doesn't make him immune to fall damage. It protects his legs, and his spinal column. The rest of him is still vulnerable. And the rest of him doesn't have any enhanced agility or strength. The super strength is just in his legs. He doesn't have infinite stamina for running or jumping. Eventually, he does tire out.
Hand tongues carry only as much as Elliott can carry with his arms. He can't use two at the same time with the same dexterity as he could with one. Grabbing things requires him to wrap a tongue around the object. This shortens his effective range. Bigger objects require him to be closer to grab.
Hand mouths cannot eat anything. There isn't any connection to any sort of stomach. They can bite, but since they can't digest, anything they bite, they have to spit up.
Hand-tongues are immune to most germs and diseases, but they're not immune to poison or food poisoning. He also tastes everything he grabs. Also, they're great big targets that heal just as fast as a regular tongue... so if they get cut off, they aren't growing back any time soon. They're a little more durable than a human tongue, to help protect against such a fate, but its still a definite possibility. He won't be tongue lashing any samurai sword masters. He also won't be sticking his tongue in any light sockets.
Growth description:
Wall-Running
Elliott's hands and feet have an ability similar to that of grasshoppers. He can cling to surfaces using his palms and feet. He can use this ability to hold on to objects, or climb solid surfaces, such as walls, glass windows, or even large objects like mutants. The cling is strong enough that Elliott is capable of running on walls, in addition to walking or climbing them.
His feet have also gotten tough as leather.
Strengths:
Elliott's core muscles and legs are strong enough to support him upright while standing on solid surfaces, even if the surface is the ceiling or a wall. He can stand upright, parallel to the ground. He can also crouch for hours, if need be.
Elliott can climb buildings, and stride across the surface of skyscrapers. There is no time limit to how long he can do so.
Walking on walls opens all sorts of possibilities.
If he falls, he can use his downward force to add power to his kicks. He can potentially boost them to super kicks. Previous weaknesses and limitations still apply.
His feet are as tough as leather. He can go without shoes.
Weaknesses:
Skin-to-skin contact is required. Palm to wall. Foot to window. He cannot wear shoes while using this power.
Elliott's normal human strength levels determine how well he can carry things when he's using his power. If things are too heavy, or what he's wearing is too heavy, mobility is impeded just how it would be on solid ground. Light things are easy to carry while standing still, or while running. Heavy things are not.
It is possible to get stuck on things, if he isn't paying attention.
Rain can wash him away.
Physical Abilities
General Physical Capabilities: Elliott is faster than the average joe, thanks to his mutation. He has stamina for running long distances. He's practiced some martial arts. From these things, he's gained strength, speed, reflexes, flexibility, and mental and physical balance.
Fighting Style: Capoeira, Taekwondo.
Fighting Style Pros/Cons: Both capoeira and taekwondo are martial arts that focus on kicks. Taekwondo puts emphasis on speed and agility. Force equals mass times acceleration. One philosophy in the martial art is that greater speed equals greater striking power. It was observed to improve strikes far more than greater mass did. Elliott's strong legs help with both of these things.
Capoeira can be unpredictable. It is seen by many as a dance. That's how he sees it.
While Elliott has two martial arts that he practices, his main combat philosophy is the flee and live to flee another day. Fighting is bad for business.
He recently started learning about Escrima (AKA, Arnis, or Kali). It's the national sport and martial art of the Philippines. It focuses on weapon-based fighting with knives, blades, and sticks. It also has some hand-to-hand, joint locks, and grapples.
History Of Your Character
From the day he was born, Elliott knew he was different. Well, technically, he did not know. Because he was a baby. Babies do not know these sorts of things. His parents told him, yes. They told him they told him. But he did not actually latch onto the complex concept until he was older.
Green-skin, antennae, ruby red spheroids not entirely similar to eyes… and a completely normal, no-questions-asked, why-would-you-even-think-there-were-questions visible lack of ears were just a few of the ways that Elliott was different. He also had three fingers on each hand. Well, two, if you wanted to count that third finger as a thumb. Your loss, if you did.
His parents told him he was different. His parents told him he was special. Because Elliott, as you see, was not human. Nor was he the divergent offspring of the human worm-babies. No. Elliott was an alien. From Space. Of course, this was entirely untrue. They never told him the truth of his hatching. He came from the sky. They didn't know how or why. On the day of his birth, his mother, a giant red phoenix shifter, dropped an egg down over a field in Roswell, New Mexico. She didn't care about the egg. She hated the eggs father, and as far as she was concerned, the egg could get cracked and used in a cheese omelet. The egg was black and glassy like obsidian, and it burned as it fell. When it hatched, he came out. They adopted him, and fled the scene. No, they never told him that story. It would have led to too many questions, and attracted too much attention if he started telling it to government folk. Instead, they told him another story. Elliott was special, yes. Elliott was a mutant. He didn't come from the stars. His mother hadn't been abducted and impregnated, though that would have been damn good excuse. Mutant. M U T A N T. Elliott couldn't believe this load of crap. One day when he was 9, he went to a local library and researched the day of his birth. That was the day he discovered that on his birthday 9 years ago, a mysterious hollow black meteorite had been discovered. It was hollow. Almost like it had had something in it. Like maybe, him. He never told his parents that he knew. He let them lie and tell him he was a mutant. His own world view was superior to their crap. Regardless of how his parents treated the wonder of his birth, the little green baby was still their son. He just needed extra… love. And a little tutoring, here and there, on how to deal with other people (as well as his powers).
When he was in kindergarten, his hand tongues first manifested. He was playing with blocks and wanted to reach one. He didn’t think anything of it. Elliott just whipped it out and got the block… with the tongue… on his hand… from his hand mouth located there. The teacher, on the other hand, had several different emotional reactions to the scene. He got a new teacher, the next day. He kept on playing with blocks!
The other kids, as a rule, didn’t play with him. They tended to avoid him. This continued on through grade school, and for the majority of his life with mom and dad. When he was 9, he found out about his egg. He loved his parents, but that lie was something he just couldn't forgive. They had never told him the truth! Before he ever got the chance to confront them about it, they died suddenly in a car accident, and he was absorbed into the system. He became an orphan.
Elliott's first foster parents were hippies in New Jersey. They wanted Elliott to find his center and be free. Part of their way of helping his soul cope with the loss of his parents was to introduce him to capoeira. It was this really cool dance you could do. Some people called it fighting, but the movement was really freeing, see? And it made one feel exhilarated. He kept up the capoeira for several years with that family. They also taught him to express himself in a number of other interesting ways. He went through grade school, and fell into some trouble. Got involved with the wrong sorts of people, and picked up some bad habits. One of them was selling his parents personal herb collection at school. It wasn't like he'd used the vile Earth herb. That probably wouldn't have even worked with his anatomy, anyways. The trouble got him suspended... and got him taken away from his foster parents. He got a new set in Washington, DC. He was 14.
The Washington DC parents were garbage. One was a lawyer, a real class act. A defense attorney who stood up for vile criminals and wanted to get Elliott involved in some sort of program to help him become an upstanding citizen. The other one was his 'dad'. Dad did a lot of cooking and cleaning. Dad wanted to become a professional caterer. He had the talent. If Elliott had stayed, maybe he'd have seen the man become truly happy. Instead, he ran away.
DC is a good place to live if you're looking for crime. Murder capital of the USA, Washington DC is. While he was on the run, Fall 2007 happened, as did the Mutant Registration Act and the camps. He was 15 at the time, without any narc parents to rat on him. He saw people vanishing and he saw the giant robots. He saw the writing on the wall.It was frightening, so he ran and he hid. He made contact with several mutant and human criminal elements, and started working on bettering himself and learning a trade. At the time, he still enjoyed practicing his little capoeira dance. One of his friends said he seemed like a martial arts sort of dude, and thought he'd like taekwondo, so he introduced him to it. Elliott liked taekwondo. He liked it a lot. He also liked thievery. He became a thief.
Years passed. Elliott stole and sold many things. Elliott learned how to take care of himself. He got drunk on his 21st birthday, and met a lovely lady who thought parts of his mutation were awesome. He ran with her for a while. Then, his group decided to move to Vegas, and he wasn't really into Vegas. He headed for New York. “New York seems to have a grand convergence of mutants,” Elliott thought. “Further research required.” He was an alien, yeah, and people were pretty cool with that. But those mutants were the closest thing to aliens at the moment. They were a step above stupid humans. He had no real connections to anyone in his group. New York was a fine change of pace.
Roleplay
Where did you learn about this site?: I was shown the site by a player who no longer plays on MRO. They played Arielle and Dominic.
Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: I used to play several characters. Tetsuya Shinbo, Lenna, Aurum Mellitus, Amelia Mellitus, and Ashton Drake.
Sample RP:
Dear Diary.
Puny humans. Worthless. They mock, they point. Do they not get it? Do they not see? Many wear four eyes. Four. Yet for those with eyes even numbering in fours(!), they can be so blind. Those fools. Those silly, bigoted fools. If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we NOT DIE? … Results uncertain upon the last. Further testing required. Need willing test subject. Sadly, I appear to be the only one.
Diary, diary. I am the only one. Did you forget? Did you? How could you? I thought we were friends. When my parents found me, I was alone. They made it such that I wouldn’t feel it. But they could only do so much. As I sit here with pen in hand, writing my thoughts, I can only shed a tear over my lack of tear ducts with which to shed tears regarding my plight. Of the entire planet, the closest one might come to locating a decent lifeform similar to my species would be to look upon the mutant race. Homo Superior, some call them. Still inferior to my race, of course, but… Subjects show promise. Moreso than humans.