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 Zephyr on Jun 24, 2013 23:08:54 GMT -6
Kitra likes this
The Syndicate
Captain of The Syndicate
[b]Bold[/b]
Straight
TBD
863
18
May 26, 2023 22:14:20 GMT -6
Zephyr
He’d tried to get two beds.
No, honestly he had tried. After seeing the drunken mess Isabel had made of the cab the last thing the elemental had wanted was to share a bed with her. Yes the brunette was beautiful but she wasn’t worth that kind of torment.
That being said, when the girl had effectively kicked him out of the bathroom he’d fully expected her to spend the rest of the night/morning hugging the toilet until she passed out on the tiled floor. He’d even spent an hour or so on the couch, using his spatial awareness to check on the soubrette every few minutes as he made an effort to clean his jacket; ghosting the material and then trying to separate the stains from the fabric. It had worked to a degree, but not as much as he would have liked.
Still, after two hours the gamine hadn’t shown any signs of moving and so Zephyr had decided to get what sleep he could while he had the chance and had climbed into bed after removing most of his clothes and folding them over the office chair. He’d just started to drowse off when the mattress had shifted and he’d just been able to make out Isabel muttering some halfhearted threat before she’d slipped in next to him under the sheets and quickly turning her back to him.
She’d been too tired to care and at that point so had he.
That had been at around five in the morning, it was now two in the afternoon and the elemental found himself rather reconsidering his earlier apathy as a number of new facts came to his attention. Firstly, Isabel apparently had even less on than she’d had last night; both the shirt and the shorts she’d worn to the bar seemed to have vanished.
He knew this because, secondly, when he’d woken up to the afternoon sun in his face he’d found that she’d rolled over at some point in the until she was half on top of him, her head buried in the crook of his neck to escape the sun with her arms wrapped around his torso, effectively pinning one of his arms to his side, while her legs clutched his lower half and trapped his other hand between her thighs. He’d very briefly tried to free his hand but quickly stopped when the shapely soubrette had given some unintelligible moan and somehow managed to snuggle closer with a movement which had caused him to wake up in more ways than one.
Isabel Duskmoor, well known mutant and infamous cop killer was also a closet cuddler. What. F*cking. Luck. The one time she was actually throwing herself at him and he couldn’t do a damn thing, and not just because she essentially had him in a death grip either. Granted he could likely get her off if he wanted too, especially in her current state, but doing so without waking her up was another thing entirely.
He didn’t want to deal with this, if the sun hadn’t been staring him in the face he’d have been more than happy to go back to sleep and let Isabel work it out whenever she woke up. It would save him no small amount of drama but at the same time… the whole point of the wager had been to try and get over her intimacy issues so she’d stop having panic attacks any time she showed some skin, if she woke up and found herself like this… he’d be lucky if she just found herself back at square one.
He hated biting the bullet. If she hadn’t been pressed against like she was he didn’t want to risk ghosting. He could probably do it, but if she woke up half way through and panicked things could go wrong very quickly.
“Isabel… Isabel, time to wake up, you can’t sleep forever.” His voice started as a whisper and then got louder when he didn’t get any reaction. ”Wake up Isa-“ He found himself gasping for breath when the ingénue suddenly squeezed his chest, shaking her head and throwing her hair across his face as she burrowed closer until her lips were almost touching his neck.
‘Goddamit. The girl was dead to the world and that apparently extended to the compulsion on the Promise. Letting out an irritated sigh Zephyr made himself as comfortable as he could and resigned himself to simply waiting until Isabel woke up.
A headache was starting to settle in Isabel's temple and behind her eyes again as she started to come out of her deep sleep. The more she tried to ignore it and drift off again the worse it seemed to get. Trying to drink a few glasses of water the night prior didn't seem to have done her any good, and if it had she didn't even want to try thinking about how much worse her head would have felt otherwise.
She had no idea what time it was and no desire to locate either an alarm clock or her phone to figure it out. Considering how late it had to have been by the time she'd finally been able to crawl into bed it was probably a safe enough bet that it would be pretty late in the morning or even early in the afternoon. It was too bad she couldn't enjoy not being woken up at an ungodly hour. Not only was her head beginning to ache and her stomach feeling a little less than completely settled, but the mattress that she'd had to sleep on had turned out to be rather uncomfortable.
It was getting a little too hard to ignore the sun that was trying to shine in her face no matter how well hidden it was and the various aches and pains that were plaguing her were going to make it impossible to fall back to sleep. She'd have to wait until she'd gotten back to the Sanctuary and had a chance to try and remedy some of the discomfort before she attempted to get any more rest, if she even felt like it at that point.
Stifling a yawn she planted one hand on the mattress and made to sit up but stopped short upon hearing the distinct sound of someone getting the wind knocked out of them. Confused, she lifted and turned her head to locate the source of the noise only to find that she'd been using a very disgruntled looking Zephyr's chest to lever herself up and not the mattress like she'd thought. It took a moment for her brain to catch up with what she was seeing, her eyes going wide when comprehension finally dawned.
"Jesus Christ!" she shouted as she struggle to untangle herself from both the blankets and the young man's body. Since he hadn't exactly been doing much to restrain her it was relatively easy to separate herself from him, though in her surprise she overestimated the difficulty and wound up wriggling right over the opposite side of the bed, landing on the thinly carpeted floor with a thud.
"Never again!" she called, grabbing one of the pillows that had fallen with her and hiding her red face under it. "I'm never sharing a hotel room with you ever again! Nothing good ever happens when I do!" A pizza bomb was starting to look pretty good right about now.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
For someone who’d spent the prior night trying to replace their blood with alcohol, Isabel proved to be surprisingly spry when she finally woke up. In fact, Zephyr found he was put to mind of a startled cat as the soubrettes entire body seemed to arch and she threw herself off the bed and nearly into an opposing wall.
If he’d been in a better mood the elemental would have given the brunette an 8/10 for distance if nothing else, the wall had been six feet away after all. As things stood though he was currently bruised, winded and his head was carrying a rather unpleasant echo of the girls startled shriek, all of which tended to incline one to quite a poor morning disposition.
Still, he’d dealt with worse; if he could walk away from a collision with a jet he could handle this, he’d have to really given how Duskmoor seemed content to curl into an upright fetal position and use a pillow to do her best impression of an Ostrich hiding its head in the sand.
Ignoring the girls muffled words for the time being Zephyr quietly slid himself out of the bed and moved towards the chair holding his clothes, making no effort to hide himself as he did so. He honestly wasn’t concerned with modesty around Isabel; the girl would bury her head in the sand (or a pillow in this case) out of sheer embarrassment before she tried to catch an eyeful of anything.
Hell, that was half the reason he’d made the wager in the first place.
As he dressed the hessian ignored the dull thumping of his hang over as he tried to focus on how best to deal with Duskmoor. He needed to comfort her somehow but the brunette was do damned proud that there wasn’t much he could do without making the situation worse.
Ideally, he’d just leave her be and she’d calm down in her own time. Unfortunately ideals rarely translate into the real world; if he left Isabel as she was now there was a good chance she’d show up in a burqa the next time he saw her, and while that wasn’t bad per se it was rather the opposite of what he’d been hoping to achieve.
‘No,’ he thought as he crafted a small shell of silence and placed a brief call. ‘Much as neither of us wants too, we’ll have to sit down and talk about what happened… which was nothing, absolutely nothing.’
Somehow he doubted she’d appreciate the irony.
Holding back a yawn Zephyr finished buttoning his shirt and glanced at Isabel. The girl still hadn’t moved though she seemed to have calmed down slightly if the rise and fall of her shoulders were any indication. His gaze lingered for a moment as he took in the soubrette’s appearance, azure eyes tracing the length of her bare legs which she’d pulled up against her chest and the naked skin of her sides that wasn’t covered by the mess of sheets she’d taken in her fall from the bed.
Letting out a tired sigh Zephyr gave a small shake of his head and made his way across the room, ignoring Isabel briefly as he stopped at the rooms built in closet, removing a white bathrobe which he then draped over her shoulders before kneeling down in front of her.
“Isabel, Isabel can you look at me?” He offered what he hoped was welcoming smile when he saw her head lift towards him fractionally. “Very good, thank you.”
With deliberate slowness the elemental reached into his jacket and took out a small grey cylinder no larger than an old film container. “Now I’d like us to talk about this but right now I imagine you’re not feeling very well.” He unscrewed the top of the container and tipped two round pills into his palm, holding them low enough for her to see.
“These will get rid of the hang over.” he told her simply, taking one of the pills for himself and clearly swallowing before placing the other on the edge of the pillow she was still using as some kind of shield. “And I think the rest of you will feel worlds better after a hot shower.” He made brief gesture to the bathroom behind her. “Go on, take as long as you want, wall yourself in if you like but when you come out we will talk about this.”
Hopefully sometime after room service arrived.
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Isabel let the mystery pill sit on the edge of a pillow for a moment before carefully extracting a hand from under the pillow to pick it up, not wanting it to roll off and onto the floor. She wasn't one to take medication on any kind of regular basis and she especially didn't accept mystery drugs from people. However, Zephyr had made a show of taking one himself first and she was pretty sure that she'd seen him take something similar on at least one or two occasions prior. He was a jerk, but she didn't believe that he'd go so far as to give her anything harmful. Her hand disappeared behind the pillow again where she placed the pill on her tongue and then swallowed it.
Talking about anything at the moment sounded like a horrible idea and she wanted no part of it. A hot shower was far more appealing and considering that he wasn't trying to order her around or reprimand her for anything she'd done so far she was much more willing to comply with the suggestion. She didn't hesitate long before releasing her hold on the pillow to get a grip on the bathrobe that she'd been given and quickly moving to the bathroom. She locked the door and moved her shirt and shorts from the curtain rod to the counter before turning the hot water on full blast.
She spent the better part of an hour holed up in the bathroom, only some of that time actually dedicated to washing her hair and the rest of her body with the toiletries provided by the hotel. The rest was more of an attempt to prolong the inevitable chat she's have to have with Zephyr at his insistence. Unfortunately she couldn't stay in the shower or even just in the bathroom forever. He'd make her come out eventually and it was easier to play nice for the time being, especially now that her headache had just about subsided and she didn't want to make it flare back up again.
And so she dried and dressed, a little more than displeased that she didn't have something slightly less revealing to opt for. But the sooner she endured the torment of talking to Zephyr presumably the sooner she'd get to go back to the Sanctuary and change into some real clothes.
With a sigh she moved back into the main room and crossed over to sit in the chair, not wanting to leave any room for the young man to take a seat next to her for their heart-to-heart. She placed her elbows on the knees and dropped her chin into her palms, looking thoroughly unenthusiastic. "I hate talking. It sucks."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Much as Isabel may have been dreading and delaying their upcoming discourse, Zephyr was in fact rather thankful for the extended lull. It gave him a chance to collect his thoughts, to determine how best to present his argument and, quite crucially, it gave his medication time to take effect, diminishing the dull aches of his body and softening the incessant pounding in his skull to far more manageable levels.
Duskmoor petulance also had one other added benefit, while she’d been sulking under the showers steaming curtain of water, room service had arrived and been diligently set out on the rooms desk along with a copy of the morning paper.
The elemental had just been part way through the mornings news and debating a second cup of tea when Isabel had finally emerged, dragging herself over to the desk with all the enthusiasm of one walking down death row before dropping into empty office chair and adopted what Zephyr had privately begun thinking of as her ‘Little Miss Sulk’ demeanor.
"I hate talking. It sucks."
“And yet, it lets accomplish so much for so little.” He replied as he released a sigh that was parts irritated and amused and placed his paper beside him on the couch. Then, before the soubrette could respond, he lifted his hand in a slight twirling motion, causing the entire desk to swing away from the wall on a hidden pivot as it was gripped by the air, effectively becoming a dining table as it came to rest between the brunette and himself.
Rising from the couch Zephyr calmly strode over to take a seat opposite the ingénue, setting himself on a platform of air Isabel looked at the collection of plates in bafflement. “I thought we may as well eat while we talked” He informed simply as he took a set of cutlery and uncovered one of the plates, only to pause briefly at the sullen and suspicious glare she sent him return.
“Isabel… you haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday and it’s now midafternoon. Do you really want to pretend you’re not hungry?”
With that said he ignored the gamine for the next few moments as he occupied himself with a piece of toast as he let the girl make up her mind. When at last she grudgingly began to eat he allowed himself a small smile before he began talking.
“I know this is… rather uncomfortable for you Isabel, trust me I do, but I want to stress that what happened this morning, which was nothing by the way.” He leveled a dry glance at the girl as he purposefully paused to let the fact sink in. “but regardless, what happened this morning and what we talk about here won’t be shared with anyone else unless you want it to.”
“That being said, is there anything you’d like to say before I start?”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
The idea of breakfast hadn't even occurred to Isabel before it had been rather theatrically presented. She hadn't realized exactly how hungry she was while she'd been up, but at the same time she was rather hesitant about putting anything into her stomach after she'd upset it so thoroughly the night before. Still, the eggs and sausage looked inviting once she grudgingly gave in to Zephyr's prodding and removed the cover from the plate closest to her. She settled on attempting to stomach some orange slices first, though. It was light and the natural sugars would probably be good for her. Removing the peel and the occasional seed also gave her something to do with her hands while she was dragged into another uncomfortable conversation.
She wrinkled her nose and pushed an orange slice into her mouth as he launched into his speech. She was already fairly confident that nothing had happened between to two of them, despite what it might have looked like when she'd woken up. She could remember just about everything from the night prior. Some of the details were a little fuzzy, but she definitely remembered climbing into the bed and almost immediately falling asleep and as far as she could tell he'd been in pretty much the same boat. For the most part she was still pretty wary around Zephyr, but she'd trust him just far enough to believe that he wouldn't be stepping over that particular line.
There wasn't much reason yet to believe that he'd break his word on the privacy matter, either. From what she could tell he preferred to operate behind the scenes and she wouldn't know what he'd have to gain by spreading her personal business all over the place, especially if he was involved somehow. He wanted to keep her out of the spotlight for a while and gossiping wouldn't be very helpful in his attempts.
"I didn't mean to," she muttered, slowly picking the pith off of the orange slices and avoiding having to look him in the eye once more. Once the initial surprise had worn off, she's quickly shifted into embarrassment. She was somewhat surprised he hadn't poked some fun at her yet. Discovering a tendency to cuddle, however unintentional, sort of tarnished the rather fearsome reputation she'd worked to build up around herself. Acting tough probably wouldn't be getting her very far anymore.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
“Yes” he replied wryly, “You made that quite clear when you woke up.” He’d met a few screamers in his time and while all of them were rather piercing one way or another, Isabel had managed to leave his ears ringing almost until she’d left the shower, it wasn’t something he’d forget in a hurry. The girl had lungs.
Watching the brunettes own slight wince Zephyr somehow doubted she’d be forgetting any time sooner either and for a brief moment he toyed with the idea of voicing his silent comments about just how vocal she’d been before dismissing it. There’d be time to tease Duskmoor later when she wasn’t in quite such a state, for now he needed to keep her calm and rational as possible which, admittedly, was easier said than done.
Pouring himself another cup of tea while Isabel continued to fidget and stare straight at her lap Zephyr leaned back in his intangible seat and gave the soubrette a measuring look. She was still embarrassed, which was fine and perfectly understandable, but more importantly the shock and hint of fear she’d shown earlier was gone. She was listening, now he simply needed to drive the point home.
“I want you to think back Isabel, consider everything we’ve done these past few months. I’ve been hard yes but I’ve also made you stronger. Every time I’ve pushed you past your limits I’ve always made sure you could get back on your feet.”
“And when you couldn’t, like last night, I stayed. I stayed and I made sure nothing happened to you. I did not abandon you and I never took advantage of you, do you understand? That’s one of the few lines I’ve not yet crossed and I never intend to.”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Posted by Isabel on Jul 5, 2013 19:27:20 GMT -6
Mouse Hero likes this
The Syndicate
Soldier of The Syndicate
grey
Straight
Never
1,355
46
Mar 15, 2022 21:07:28 GMT -6
Isabel
It was difficult to see anything from Zephyr's point of view. Stubborn refusal to do so was a big part of that issue, but also denial and the preference to focus on her own feelings on the issues. Isabel would much rather stay angry at him over anything and everything she'd been dragged into where he was involved. She'd never asked for his interest or his assistance in anything and she was more than willing to refuse them if given the chance, which she rarely was.
Help was not something Isabel asked for from anyone, especially not if the aim was to improve any part of herself. She liked to work alone and she didn't need any help focusing on her flaws and her weaknesses. She didn't need anyone making her feel foolish or trying to temper her attitude and her habits. She was the way she was because she wanted it that way and when someone threw a wrench into the works she wasn't going to be happy about it.
Still, she was capable of recognizing that Zephyr's plans seemed to have some sort of beneficial outcome in the long run, even if those benefits were mainly for himself as she often suspected. She didn't see what was so great about him stopping her occasional killing sprees other than making sure she wasn't in the news. But then that had never really concerned her. He'd gotten her to stop trying to kill him at the same time, though again that only seemed to benefit him, even if it did make their interactions less painful for her as well. He made her get up early and run through a series of horrible exercise routines, but she could feel it getting a little bit easier to go through them as she went. Not that she wanted to keep going. And there was the whole shock collar thing which benefited her more than himself, though she still didn't really know why he'd made it a point to do so.
She could see that she was getting at least some kind of positive outcomes from the situations but she still couldn't figure out the reason behind all of it. She was at a total loss as to why he'd targeted her and why he was so relentlessly trying to alter her behavior and to whip her into shape for who knew what.
"I know. It just surprised me is all," she replied, dropping several bits of peel onto her untouched plate and debating whether or not she wanted the rest of the orange. "I just don't get why. Why won't you just leave me alone and find someone else to torment? I wouldn't even need anyone to look after me if you did. It's totally your fault I get into that kind of nonsense in the first place." One thing she did know was she was never making another wager with him again.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Zephyr regarded the brunette quietly for a few moments as she continued to stare into her lap. He’d wondered when the girl would finally work up both the nerve and wit to question his own motives; he’d honestly begun to doubt whether she was capable of stepping beyond her own perspective to try and wrap her mind around the aims and motivations of others.
Still, despite the fact it was rather late in coming, the gamine had managed it and so she deserved an answer of sorts. “Why? That’s a rather broad question.” he commented idly as he took an apple from its plate and shined it against his shirt while purposefully ignoring her childish accusation. “As for why you, well... why not you?”
He quickly held up a hand to forestall any insults or other indignant behavior, “I don’t say that to tease you Isabel.” He continued with a gentle tone of sincerity as he tried to catch her eye. “You’ve asked an excellent question which shows you’re thinking, but if I just give you the answer then there’s no reason for you to think any further and no reason for you to learn.”
He let himself trail off at that point, debating how much farther he needed to drive the point home. Duskmoors attention span was short enough but her temper was even more so and if he persisted in implying she wasn’t using her head there was a good chance she’d either begin sulking or simply try to storm out of the room, which would be problematic for several reasons.
“That doesn’t mean I won’t help you though, I just want you to try and come up with your own answers first. Then we can talk about them and whether they make sense.” He paused for a moment weighing his next words against the girls own inclinations before he followed with “In fact, depending on how involved the question is we could skip your morning routine to discuss it, just as we’re doing now. “
He fell silent again after that, content to give the gamine time to consider his words as he began to cut the apple in his hand; running two fingers across its surface, leaving thin fissures which then let him take a slice of the fruit.
After a time though, when the buxom brunette still hadn’t spoken the elemental felt that it might be best to try and move things along, introspection was all well and good, but there was one more topic he wanted to address while he still had the girl as a captive audience.
“Now, as for the ‘nonsense’ you mentioned, I want you to consider this; over the past several years you’ve made it well known that you have no qualms killing humans to sate your bloodlust,” And it was bloodlust, there was no real point in pretending it was anything else and the hessian had no intention of even trying, not when his ‘wager’ had worked so well.
“Yet last night," He continued, his tone steadily becoming more serious, “you spent over four hours in a bar dealing with the advances of any number of ignorant individuals and you didn’t kill a single one.”
He paused again, leaning forward, trying once more to catch the shapely soubrettes eyes to convey just how important her restraint had been. “Even if you didn’t win the wager Isabel you displayed remarkable self-control…”
Perhaps it had been the change in tone, or the shift in his posture, maybe even an honest sense of disbelief but regardless of what caused it at that point the girl finally lifted her gaze and azure eyes met honey brown just as the elemental uttered the words the words he’d planned since the wagers beginning.
“Be proud of that.”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Not a single straight answer to be heard that could satisfy her query. She should have expected that at this point as well as the prompting for her to figure it out herself. It was a struggle not to sigh and roll her eyes the longer he talked. If she knew what made him tick, then she wouldn't have needed to ask him anything in the first place.
And it wasn't like she hadn't had her share of self-pitying 'why me' moments since Zephyr had begun training her in earnest. All she knew was that he'd had her do his dirty work for him. He'd picked the targets and sent her after them while he holed up out of sight somewhere. At least until that ungodly trip to Chicago. Everything had gone down hill from there. She wasn't even getting to pursue anyone anymore. All he ever did was make her run laps and stay at the Sanctuary and make sure she wasn't having any fun at all. If he wanted someone to torment there was any number of other mutants at the Sanctuary for him to pick from. She just couldn't figure out why her number had been drawn.
She was tired of going around in circles in her head trying to figure out the reasoning behind his actions, but the possibility of avoiding the terrible morning routines was very appealing. She'd likely still have to get up way too early and somehow cut him off before he packed her into the truck, but she could probably manage it. Maybe. Playing twenty questions at five o'clock in the morning might be easier said than done and potentially way more frustrating than it was worth, particularly if his answers continued to be so infuriatingly vague.
She finally allowed him to catch her eye when the topic shifted gears and the previous night's events were brought up again. She'd been more prepared to be teased over her complete failure, not to be patted on the back for a job well done not murdering anyone. She did have to roll her eyes at that one. "Only because you wouldn't let me," she argued, giving up on the orange and dropping it onto her plate. Proud wasn't one of the feelings she had over her excursion into the bar. She'd have gladly maimed any number of those fools if she hadn't known that the windbag was keeping an eye on her. She wouldn't have liked his opinion on the matter if she'd done as she pleased. It wasn't self-control, it was stubborn refusal to lose a wager she'd foolishly agreed to and lost in the end anyway.
She was just beginning to fall into a sulk over the lost opportunities of the previous night when something dawned on her. "But I did win," she began, looking back to the young man as a grin started to slide onto her face. She wasn't usually very good at finding or exploiting loopholes, but the possibility of getting to relax and not have to see his stupid face for two whole weeks was a good enough incentive for her to work some out.
"I have your phone number. You gave me your phone number and you always call me because you want to see me, even if it's to go to that sucky warehouse and be awful." He'd never specified that she'd needed to get a number while at the bar. Just get a number without threatening anyone for it. She certainly hadn't had to threaten him for his. He'd just started calling her one day. He'd also never ruled himself out of the wager which made him fair game.
"I have your number and I left the bar with you for a hotel room. Isn't going to a hotel with people from bars way better than just getting a number? Because I'm pretty sure it is. I doubly won that wager and I should totally have double the amount of time away from you for it." She might have been a little bit proud of herself now.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
In the midst of carving out another apple slice Zephyr paused and a brief look of surprise flickered across his countenance before he slowly lifted his gaze and took in the gleeful expression on Isabel’s face as she met his eyes without hesitation. That more than anything was what caught the elementals interest and caused him to arch an eyebrow.
“Indeed?” The word wasn’t mocking, or even skeptical, it simply carried a note of honest curiosity as the hessian set aside his apple and gave the girl his full attention and waited for her rationale.
Barely a beat later she gave it, her voice gradually gaining in both volume and enthusiasm as she poked at every loophole she could find and did her best to throw it in his face. By the time she’d finished the soubrette was almost bouncing in her seat as she stared at him with delighted defiance as she waited for him to react, to challenge her, to deny what she done.
He clapped.
It wasn’t the overly energetic gesture one might witness during a festival or in a stadium. No, this was more measured; a slow but no less genuine expression of approval that reflected the grin which tugged at the elementals own lips as he leaned back and regarded the gamine with no small amount of satisfaction.
She was learning.
“Nicely done Isabel, that was well thought out.” He congratulated, allowing her a brief moment of glory before he gently took her down a peg. Learning to think around a problem was all well and good but she hadn’t yet grasped the concept of a gracious victory or, more succinctly, to quite when you’re ahead. “However, it’s bad form to change a deal after the fact so we’ll stay with two weeks.”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
"What the hell am I supposed to do with this?" Two blissfully Zephyrless weeks had not been nearly enough. Isabel had gotten used to lounging around at all hours and sleeping in again during that span of time and being unceremoniously woken up at the crack of dawn to get back to work once again hadn't exactly been pleasant.
She'd been expecting more of the usual exercise routines once they'd reached the warehouse that she'd never wanted to see again, but had gotten a bit of a shock when Zephyr had carried a duffel bag in with him and pulled out what appeared to be some sort of gun. Except Isabel wasn't familiar with any kind of firearm that seemed to use marbles as ammunition. He hadn't wasted much time handing her one which left her more than a little confused as to what exactly they were going to be doing for the day.
"I don't want this. I don't use guns. Guns are human weapons," she protested while at the same time trying to figure out exactly how to hold the thing. She'd never handled anything larger than a pistol and hadn't used a firearm of any sort more than twice, and both of those had been dart guns. She was pretty sure she hadn't been handed a dart gun this time around.
She cast a rather grumpy look in the young man's direction as she tried to settle the gun in her hands. "If this means I get to shoot you, then maybe I can deal with using one of these stupid things. If not, then you can-" Her sentence was cut short as a ball of bright yellow paint splattered her foot and her words dissolved into a series of curses. Readjusting the thing without looking at it might not have been such a good idea. The trigger was much more sensitive than she would have guessed.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Isabel’s almost habitual contrariness Zephyr instead kept his focus on the table before him as he finished assembling the second weapon. He’d long become accustomed to ignoring the gamines more puerile behaviour; it was nothing more than an attempt tp get a rise out of him; a cry for attention really. Deny her that attention and she became, if not more willing to listen, at least more likely.
Ever since the brief break he’d granted the shapely soubrette two weeks he’d pondered on and off how best with her return. By this stage he felt he’d rather made his point with the endurance training; it was a punishment, a means of recourse whenever she happened to displease him more than usual and also tended to leave her too tired to get up to her usual mischief.
Now that the break was over however, he was intending for something of a fresh start. Isabel knew the sessions could be grueling yes, but now he wanted her to learn that it wasn’t all they could be. To that end he’d introduced something he knew would appeal to her.
“They’re called paintball guns Isabel.” He’d informed as he placed the first fished model in her surprised hands. “They work in much the same manner as any other gun.”
"I don't want this. I don't use guns. Guns are human weapons,"
The statement caused a slight smile to tug at the elementals lips and he replied without looking up from the second weapon. “As are cars, motorcycles and television, yet you seem have no problem using those. A gun is merely weapon Isabel, who made it rarely matters, what’s important… is how it’s used.”
He trailed off at that point, giving the gamine a moment to think through the implications. She wasn’t as smart as some, but she was learning and he’d found she could follow clues readily enough, although at times they had to be stamped on her face.
Still, he hadn’t quite thought the girl capable of literally shooting herself in the foot, something akin to falling up a flight of stairs and the elemental found he couldn’t quite restrain a chuckle which was fortunately eclipsed by the brunettes own cursing which proved to be both rather vocal and strangely creative.
Entertaining as the expletives were though he knew better than to let the girls poor mood gather steam. “Calm down Isabel, they’re called paintball guns for a reason, with your shoes I doubt you’ll even have a bruise.” He told her with a tone of gentle authority as he loaded a sack of pellets into the second finished weapon before resting it against his shoulder with the barrel pointed at the ceiling.
Tempting though it was to simply set about adjusting the soubrettes grip experience had taught him that Isabel rarely reacted well when someone intruded her personal space. In a best case scenario she’d simply freeze, confused and uncertain. On the other hand she could just as easily jump out of her skin and take a swing at him and he’d rather avoid having to replace one of the guns so soon.
Instead, he merely stayed where he was, allowing the table to act as a barrier between them as he dug a pair of transparent oval helmets from the bottom of the duffel bag, donning one himself before lightly tossing the other to Isabel.
“I thought we might try something a little different this time, something I believe you’ll enjoy.” His words were slightly muffled by the helmet though still clear. “Think of it as a game, we each have around 100 shots and the objective is to paint each other as thoroughly as possible.”
Taking a small step back the hessian reached up and flicked the safety off his own weapon as he leaned back and placed his weight on one foot. “There are no real rules; almost anything goes but you can’t destroy the warehouse or leave it until we both run out of ammo.”
“I’m betting you’ll get a real kick out of it.”
So saying Zephyr swung his leg into the table between them, launching it upwards with unnatural force which it sent it spinning like a flipped coin and carried it right past Isabel’s head, distracting her for just long enough that by the time she looked back, he was already gone.
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Paint wasn't the worst thing that had ever gotten on Isabel's boots but it was irritating none the less. She'd have to scrub it later on to see if she could get most of the yellow off, though by the time she got back to her room the paint probably would have dried. She might have to go picking through peoples' rooms again to see if anyone had any suitable footwear that she could pilfer. She doubted she could get away with a store robbery without risking violence but if she had to she'd attempt that, too. And Zephyr could stuff it.
His argument about weaponry wasn't exactly convincing. The idea of turning cops' guns on them had crossed her mind in the past but she'd eventually decided against it. The way she figured it, she struck a more imposing image by being able to effectively kill anyone without any outside assistance from ordinary weapons. It was a matter of pride that humans had to rely on their silly guns to fight her and she only had herself. She didn't care what Zephyr thought about them or their uses. She still didn't want to use the damn thing.
However, he was making it clear enough that she'd be stuck there whether she liked it or not. He'd also taken care to make sure that she couldn't just unload her gun against a wall and be able to walk away. If she had, she knew he'd take his time emptying his own reserves and making her sit around the damn warehouse for hours while he did. Bastard.
By the time the helmet was tossed in her direction she'd removed her fingers from the gun's trigger. This was fortunate because the barrel of the gun wound up striking her collar bone as it swung toward her while she fumbled to catch the helmet. A face full of paint would not have been welcome. The pellet had hurt enough through her boot, so on bare skin it would have been even worse.
She heaved a sigh and was just about to put the gun down on the table so she could pull the helmet on when the table suddenly jumped toward her. She ducked instinctively, though the thing had been launched high enough that it would have missed her either way. "You son of a-" she started as she turned back to the young man only to find that he'd disappeared somewhere.
Mumbling and grumbling she released her hold on the gun that had made its way to the floor as she'd ducked and worked the helmet onto her head. After a second thought she also called up a layer of protective armor, letting it coat her skin under her clothing like a body suit and leaving only her hands and head uncovered. At least that way the things wouldn't sting so badly and she wouldn't be scrubbing her skin raw trying to get the pain off later.
Picking up the gun she carefully maneuvered it in her hands and placed her finger by the trigger before starting off toward one side of the building. It still felt very awkward in her grip and she wasn't very enthusiastic about having to use it, but if it meant she got to shoot the windbag, she supposed she could put up with it for a little while. Once they got the game going the ammunition should run out relatively quickly so she'd only be stuck for a short while.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Watching from atop one of the many stacks of shipping crates scattered throughout the warehouse a small frown worked its way across Zephyr’s features as Isabel sullenly wrestled the helmet over her mass of hair, muttering curses the entire time.
Granted, he was aware that Duskmoor cared little for these morning sessions, especially after what amounted to a two week vacation. Still he’d expected a certain amount of… enthusiasm, after he’d offered himself up as a target. The girl generally relished any opportunity to get the better of him and he’d rather counted on that for their game; she wouldn’t learn anything if she didn’t try after all.
Drifting down from his perch the elemental briefly checked over his weapon again as his feet landed silently an inch above the ground and then slowly began to coast across the floor as he circled round behind the soubrette.
He’d been working on this particular trick on and off for a few months now; a thin carpet of air wrapped around each foot that he could use to propel himself one way or the other; like roller blades or ice skates if they weren’t confined by gravity. It wasn’t as easy as all-purpose flight which was little more than floating along a current, but it was virtually silent and, as he skirted and in front of Duskmoor, it let him turn on a dime.
When he managed to keep his balance at least.
Unfortunately that was easier said than done, and the moment he’d tried to pivot he’d instead wound up in a rather ungraceful tumble as he flew head over heels in front of the buxom soubrette and came to a less than dignified landing a few feet away.
At least he hadn’t broken anything
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."