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.
If Zephyr had been tasked with describing his current companion in a single word he most likely would have chosen ‘reckless’, or possibly ‘recalcitrant’. Either lexeme would have served to underline the brunette’s brash and typically jejune behavior quite well. The girl was, on first glance, a creature of instincts; striving to do what she wanted, when she wanted and reacting rather poorly when she could not get her way.
Given that he’d been at almost constant odds with the gamine over her usual rash methods, such an assessment could be easily justified. Now though, as he sat and watched the girl slowly sort through and piece together the remaining scraps of fabric, the mercenary realized the soubrette was demonstrating two traits he’d previously thought beyond her; patience, and control.
He wasn’t sure which surprised him more.
Sewing was a tedious and mind numbing activity, especially when done by hand. The very motions required a deliberately pace which couldn’t be rushed. Admittedly Isabel’s somewhat… unique approach, all but automated the process to some degree but a certain level of care was still necessary to properly weave together the remnants of fabric.
Then there was the fact that she was actually succeeding in using bone as thread. Although it had been some time since Zephyr had last studied biology the properties of osseous matter were common knowledge. Bone was strong yes; it was a necessary feature to support the body, but that same strength which made it rigid also meant it was brittle and thus would snap rather than bend under sufficient pressure.
Granted, the girl’s abilities did allow her a notable measure of influence over ossein matter, and could explain how she initially crafted her organic thread, however the mercenary had never seen her influence persist once direct contact had been removed. By all rights, the moment the ingénue released her thin fibers, they should have either snapped under the weight of the cloth or altered its shape in much the same way as a tent pole would a canvas, yet the ivory thread did nothing of the sort.
While he couldn’t be certain, the immediate implication was that the soubrette retained control of the threads even after they’d left her body. In effect she was quite possibly making him a shirt which could skewer or throttle him if she lost her temper, and which he couldn’t reasonably refuse without implying he didn’t trust her. While this was the case, he rather doubted the soubrette would take such news well, and in his present condition the elemental was somewhat reluctant to provoke her if he could avoid it.
When the brunette finally finished her efforts and offered the poor patch job of a shirt Zephyr only hesitated a moment before accepting the item, doing his best to mask a frown as he turned the garment this way and that, taking note of each alabaster stitch before stiffly slipping the makeshift shirt over his shoulders. If nothing else it should at least provide some measure of warmth, and if worse came to worse he judged he could manage at least one more incorporeal transformation if he had to.
"How long is it gonna take before we can actually go somewhere? I'm tired of sitting up here."[/color]
A long suffering sigh escaped the elemental as he forced himself, somewhat unsteadily, to his feet and grimaced as he braced himself against the half wall which encompassed the roof. His head pounded sharply for a short moment but then quickly faded to a tolerable throbbing, though he still raised a hand to the bridge of his nose to alleviate what he could of the discomfort, whilst at the same time watching his companion from the corner of his eye.
A part of him simply wanted the girl to leave. There was no further point in her remaining, hadn’t been since they landed, and her whining at having to deal with him while he was at less than his best was beginning to grate. On the other hand, the fact that she’d chosen to stay this long and had… behaved herself, raised intriguing possibilities his mind was only just starting to grasp.
Purposefully affecting an impassive expression which only partially masked a grimace, Zephyr eased his weight back to his feet and took a few short, unsettled, steps whilst keeping on hand on the low wall as if for balance before turning to glance at Isabel. “If you’re that eager I suppose we can start now, I should be able to manage the stairs if I take my time.”
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 gave a sigh as the shirt hung in her hand a moment too long for her liking. For someone so scrawny left shirtless in chilly weather, she'd been expecting a slightly speedier acceptance of her offer. It wasn't any real concern of hers whether or not he accepted the thing at all, but she'd appreciate it more if the acceptance was a bit quicker once the decision to take it was made. She'd have retracted the threads and tossed the bundle off the roof otherwise. No use hanging onto tattered cloth if no one was going to use it.
As it was, however, he did end up taking the thing after a moment, leaving her with nothing else to do for the time being but to whine at him some more about his predicament. It didn't help anything, but then she didn't particularly care. A mutant should always know the limits of their mutation and be able to work within those limits without overdoing it, as he seemingly had. For all the nagging he'd done about her being cautious so as not to attract attention and whatnot, he wasn't so cautious when it came to himself, apparently. She'd remember that.
When he finally agreed to get moving, she gladly got to her feet and stretched. Her muscles had begun to get somewhat stiff after sitting still for so long in the chilly air. Slow wasn't too awful just yet. Slow still meant moving, and that's exactly what she wanted to be doing since they'd made their get away from the hospital.
"Yeah, yeah, old man speed, whatever," she said, waving her hand dismissively as she came out of her stretch, glancing around to find the door that would lead to the stairwell down off the roof. She didn't doubt they'd be easier to navigate than a fire escape for her companion and less irritating for her. She'd even go so far as to unlock the thing and hold it open for him, so she didn't have to wait around for him to exert himself with such a simple task. "There's no way I'm picking you back up if you tumble down those stairs, though." He'd never learn that way.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
‘Ignore for the moment that she sounds like a petulant child,’ he thought to himself as he continued to stodgily place on foot in front of the other whilst keeping the brunette in the corner of his vision. ‘Focus on her actions. ’ Because the basic fact of the matter was that she was helping him, grudgingly perhaps, but for once the elemental wasn’t having to prompt her.
All in all, discounting his aching skull, it was a somewhat promising situation. One which Zephyr saw little need to alter; if playing the part of enervated employer made the gamine easier to deal with then so be it. The role would hardly cost him anything aside from time and patience and he currently had both of those in abundance.
"There's no way I'm picking you back up if you tumble down those stairs, though."[/color]
‘Yes, it’s not as though you’re my nurse’ he thought wryly, yet he kept the comment to himself, taunting the gamine was the surest way to end her good behavior, and so he merely gave her a look of wry amusement mixed with irritation as he paused briefly at the open doorway, dryly replying instead with “How considerate of you.” Before then making his way inside.
The interior of the building was little better than it’s roof, not entirely surprising given that the place had been condemned. Water leaked from the stained ceiling in a near constant stream courtesy of a burst water pipe. The walls consisted of gaping faded plasterboard, one section having apparently been broken down by its own door, and resembled nothing so much as stale and crumbling Swiss cheese.
The floors, though absent in some places, seemed to be reasonably stable for the most part, though even if they weren’t been the elemental rather doubted his own meager weight would have been enough to make them collapse. Duskmoor however was another matter entirely; having flown her a fair distance Zephyr was well aware that the girl weighed far more than she should, in her defense however the buxom brunette was likely the only woman who could legitimately blame her weight on being ‘big boned’ as it were.
Still, the last thing he needed was for Isabel to crash through several floors, she’d thus far managed to keep her temper in check and he’d prefer to keep things that way.
As he turned to warn the hazel haired bonemancer however the stair beneath him gave an abrupt and dangerous groan protest. Before he even had a chance to consider the irony of what was about to happen, the rotted wood beneath him gave way and he lost consciousness for the second time.
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."
"Ohshit!" The building looked nothing short of awful once Isabel had been able to glance through the doorway that Zephyr slowly passed through. It was awful, but she hadn't anticipated that the stairs would give out so easily, particularly for someone as scrawny as her companion. Not having expected it, she wasn't quite quick enough to catch him before he fell, her fingers grasping at thin air where he'd been just a moment before.
A string of obscenities leaving her lips, she made her way down the dangerous steps as quickly as she could, careful to keep a hand on the wall or any halfway sturdy looking section of handrail she could find. Given her companion's current condition and her abilities, she was sure she'd be able to handle a fall much better than he could, and she could easily make use of her mutation to help catch herself if need be.
When she was able to get to him, she gave a quick once over, looking for anything that might have been obviously broken or missing, but he seemed to be alright for the most part. Nothing a little trip to the Infirmary wouldn't fix. She just had to get him there first.
Isabel knew enough to remember that a person wasn't supposed to be moved after something like a fall through a staircase, but she wasn't about to leave him lying on the ground for a second time in one day, especially since he could actually be injured this time around. She just had to figure out a way of carting his sorry backside off to the Sanctuary without actually having to carry him. She wasn't going to be carrying anyone anytime soon.
It took a moment, most of the time spent poking and prodding at the young man and picking debris out of his jacket and hair, but she was able to concoct an idea for transportation. Turning her back in him, just in case, needing to unbutton at least the top half of her shirt to facilitate her idea, she proceeded to press her fingers to her sternum.
A white line of bone appeared, running down the center of her chest and gradually grew as the bone was pulled from her skin, followed closely by all of her ribs and a small section of spine, each of the shifting bones rapidly replaced by new ones as she worked. Dropping the collection on the ground briefly, she readjusted her clothing and then went to work.
Retrieving the ribcage, she proceeded to enlarge and mold it into a strange mix between a basket and a birdcage, the space between the bottom ribs serving as an opening in the side of the structure and the spine becoming a sort of leash that she could use to manipulate the structure. Four of the misshapen ribs split toward their base and formed four little legs underneath.
As for Zephyr, that patchwork coat of his was going to come in handy after all. She wasn't about to pick his sorry ass up herself, as she'd told him, so that bone stitching was going to come in handy. All she had to do was carefully manipulate him like marionette, place him in his twisted carriage and be on her way, leash-like protrusion in her hand while the structure tottered along behind her.
Getting out of the building was somewhat tricky, but somehow she managed it without doing any more damage to her companion or herself. It wasn't exactly a smooth ride, but no one ended up bleeding, so she was satisfied. The ride back to the Sanctuary was only minimally smoother, but she behaved herself and didn't get into any trouble on the way.
When she'd finally gotten both herself and the unconscious young man through the famous Golden doors, she paused just long enough to speak to Lisa and request that she give a call to a young woman Isabel had run into a couple times around the Sanctuary, instructing that she'd been waiting in the Infirmary to meet up with her.
Once again rearranging her partner in order to maneuver him into one of the beds in the Infirmary, she reabsorbed the bone she'd used and shooed away the medical staff only when she was sure that he didn't have any life-threatening injuries. They could take care of his migraine and any other problems he had when she was through with him. She still owed him one for that terrible outfit she'd had to wear, and she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to get back at him sooner rather than later.
Isabel was hardly waiting twenty minutes before a familiar young woman bounced her way through the Infirmary doorway and over to where she'd taken a seat by the bed in the most comfortable chair she could find.
The young woman's name was Teri, though she always introduced herself at 'Teri-with-an-i", and one could always tell where the young girl had been. Teri's mutation was absorbing color through her fingertips and somehow managing to taste it in the process. The longer her fingers were in contact with something, the more fully the color would fade, the shade moving up into her fingers, boldest at the tips and gradually fading back to skin tone just as it reached her knuckles. Faded fingerprints and streaks followed behind the young woman wherever she went, making her an easy find.
Isabel instructed Teri as to what she desired of the young woman, and 'Teri-with-an-i' was only too happy to oblige. She rarely ever turned down the invitation for a free taste test. Plopping down on the bed next to Zephyr, she removed the gloves she wore on occasion. The fingers were almost completely white by that point in time, though she insisted there was still some flavor left, like a piece of gum that had been chewed too long. They used to be a vibrant red, her favorite shade of cherry.
Dropping the gloves onto the mattress beside her, she leaned over and began stroking her fingers through the young man's hair, a huge grin spreading across her face as she did so. "He tastes like chocolate!" she exclaimed as her fingers gradually drained of their faded red color and absorbed the brown from his hair. Her tongue poked out between her lips for a brief moment, and for the first time Isabel realized that her tongue was also turning brown. Apparently that changed color, too.
The bone manipulator reclined in her chair, one leg crossed over the other and her foot bouncing in the air as she watched the young woman work. Personally she'd never really seen the use in such a mutation, but Teri seemed more than pleased to have gotten stuck with it, and it had worked out to Isabel's advantage in this one instance, so she wouldn't write it off as completely useless. She didn't envy it, though.
Only once Zephyr's hair was paper white and, much to her disappointment, Teri was unable to sap any more flavoring out of it did the process grind to a halt. Isabel thanked the young woman and dismissed her, letting her bounce out of the room giddily, preventing her hands from touching anything for longer than necessary, wanting to 'savor the flavor' she's just acquired. It was a shame she couldn't sap color from surfaces she wasn't directly touching. It meant Zeph's roots would grow in brown and his hair would eventually be back to normal. Oh well.
The medical staff was then allowed to tend to the young man, receiving specific instructions to fix only what was necessary and not to repair the discoloration of his hair, if that was even possible. For the time being Isabel remained put in her chair, overseeing everything as medical personnel milled about. It would be amusing to see what happened when the young man woke up and realized his appearance had been improved.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
For the second time in far too short a period Zephyr found himself waking without any immediate recollection beyond an odd sense of déjà vu which was less than copacetic. Despite his lack of memory however a number of things were immediately apparent. Firstly he was in some form of hospital; few places smelled so strongly of disinfectant or covered their beds with paper sheets which, it should be noted, were distinctly uncomfortable.
Secondly, if the constant yet subdued pounding in his skull was any indication, he’d been drugged with some low grade anesthetic, presumably to counter whatever was causing the dull burning sensation across his ribs with each breath he took. Broken, or more likely bruised, ribs if he were to judge; not life threatening by any means but certainly inconvenient.
Fortunately such an injury was, if not easily taken care of, at least non too challenging. Indeed compared to the injurious he’d sustained after colliding with a certain jet, bruised ribs were almost laughable. Still, it would probably be best to wait until the anesthetic wore off; going from flesh to air and back again wasn’t particularly draining but it did require a clear head, especially without assistance.
His musings at that point were interrupted when his right eye was peeled open by a cold, practiced hand and introduced to an almost painfully bright pen light, prompting an irritated sigh. “Is this really necessary?”
“Dear boy from what I understand you quite possibly have a concussion and broken ribs. If that’s the case my bedside manner will be the least of your troubles. Now open your other eye.”[/color]
Withholding another sigh the elemental did as he was asked and the light was deftly redirected, leaving a fading haze in the hessians vision which eventually resolved into the figure of a rather severe and elderly looking matron. Her grey hair had been wound into a tight bun and rested atop her head like a content, if possessive cat. Her expression was pinched, as though she were well too acquainted with lemons, and her slate gray eyes were narrow as she took in whatever it was she saw in the elementals own azure gaze.
A wave of cold washed through the elemental, beginning where the old woman’s hand rested on his head and seeming to flow down his spine and pooling in his lungs until his entire chest became numb and it felt as though he were breathing liquid ice. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the matron removed her hand and the frigid sensation went with it leaving Zephyr to cough for a few short moments as feeling returned to his chest and he brought his breathing back into a steady rhythm.
Before he could offer any form of rebuke however he found himself subject to a rather brusque bout of doctors orders “I’ve done what I can for your ribs but you still need at least a week of rest before they’re fully healed. Still, I know your type and so I shan’t waste my own time trying to keep you here. You’re free to leave. I don’t want to see you, or you’re… friend, here again if I can help it”[/color]
The last of her words were accompanied by a more than disapproving glance across the room, prompting the hessian to follow the matron’s gaze where he spotted Isabel sitting with a rather satisfied smirk a few feet away. A sight what apparently caused the old matron no small degree of aggravation for she stalked out of the room before anything else could be said.
There was silence for a few short moments before Zephyr turned his head to Isabel and asked with a bored, yet idly curious tone “Delightful woman, really.” A brief pause and then, “I don’t suppose you could tell me what happened? “
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 had dealt with the crotchety old healer a time or two in the past when she'd needed more than just a shower and a nap after certain scuffles. She made a habit of avoiding the Infirmary whenever she was able, not liking hospital-like settings, the smell in particular. And the needles. Isabel hated needles. The old healer had been just as pleased to aid the bonemancer as she was to allow the aid. They hadn't exactly become fast friends.
And so it gave her no small amount of pleasure in bossing the old woman around before she allowed her or her staff to take a good look at her companion who had been dropped unceremoniously onto the bed and toyed with. The healer didn't like being told what to do around in her section of the Sanctuary, but Isabel couldn't have cared less and took full advantage of her ability to do so whenever it suited her.
Her attention turned away from the old woman as she stalked out of the room and over to her companion, still grinning, as he addressed her. Apparently their views didn't differ so much on the subject. Luckily he was the one that had to deal with her and not the bow wearing mutant.
As for what happened, "You took a nice dive through the floor of that building we were in. You did a decent job of beating yourself up, took all the fun right out of it for me," she replied, adopting a small pout at the thought. She really had considered pushing him down the stairs, and he had to go and ruin it by doing it himself. "I couldn't just leave you there, so I brought you back here to have you looked at, just in case." She couldn't toy with him if he was dead. "I like the new look, by the way."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
"You took a nice dive through the floor of that building we were in. You did a decent job of beating yourself up, took all the fun right out of it for me,"[/color]
Pulling himself somewhat uneasily into a sitting position, the elemental paused and frowned as Isabel’s words stirred a brief, if vivid, memory of his last waking moments in the condemned building. He’d used those same stairs when he’d first arrived at the apartment block to discuss the initial details of the task with recalcitrant brunette and they’d held up without even a groan.
The idea that Duskmoor could have had a hand in his accident, did occur to him but was dismissed almost at once; she wasn’t that subtle. She had difficulty walking down a street without raising some kind of trouble, if she’d been behind his fall she would have been far more direct and wouldn’t have hesitated to brag about her actions afterwards… still, he’d keep a closer eye on her for a time, but put it down to simple misfortune for now.
Even as he thought this though something else nagged at him and he drew himself back from his thoughts to look at Isabel and see the girl’s expression change from a fetching pout to a mischievous, and equally agreeable, smile as she followed up her recount. "I like the new look, by the way."[/color]
Had the look she was giving him not been enough to spark a toscin in the back of his mind then her words certainly did. Not knowing what to expect however his brow creased faintly in puzzlement. The infirmary had neither mirrors nor windows to act in their place and so the elemental could only glance down at himself.
He was shirtless, again. This in itself didn’t truly bother the hessian; over the years he’d found that modesty was one of the most affordable things one could lose, and in any case a good portion of his torso had been wrapped in numerous layers of gauze. His arms also sported some sparse bandages, likely where he’d suffered more than minor abrasions during his fall.
No, the issue at hand was the fact that, in the past few hours, he’d found Isabel paying him far more… attention, then he’d seen her give anyone she wasn’t currently trying to maim or otherwise inhume. He’d put up with it thus far because he’d been in no shape to do anything else and, truth be told, the idea had some appeal. Her pin up was so often sold out for a reason after all. Conversely though the ingénue had shown herself to be at least borderline homicidal, though she’d be hard pressed to hurt him even on her best days.
Still, it was entirely possible the girl was staying true to her sadistic, if clichéd, persona and was simply mocking him for his injuries. Alternatively it could be something else entirely, he still didn’t know precisely what type of anesthetic he’d been drugged with, and a number were known to have judgment clouding effects.
Whatever the case might be though this was too good an opportunity to pass up, and if he were wrong well… he could at least have some entertainment at Duskmoor’s expense.
Having made something of a point of taking in his bare torso Zephyr lifted his gaze and looked at Isabel with an arched eyebrow and replied in an urbane and somewhat prurient tone. “Indeed? While I’m flattered, you do know there are easier ways to get a man undressed?”
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 observed the young man with no small amount of amusement as confusion seemed to color his expression with her last little comment. Having no mirrors in the Infirmary was generally a good thing, giving the patients less to worry or become discouraged about when it came to their looks after they'd been subjected to a beating or an accident. However, in a circumstance such as this, it really was a shame. She'd have loved to see the young man's expression upon discovering his new hair color.
Because of this, it only made sense that her companion would have to inspect himself to try and figure out what she was talking about. She smirked just the littlest bit, anticipating his reaction to be perhaps a bit more entertaining once the real alteration was discovered. If he as always so careless with his mutation, bandaging shouldn't come as any big surprise to him, particularly while working with the bone manipulator.
Of course, his state of undress hadn't escaped her, either. She'd left his poor excuse for a shirt on his body when she'd dropped him onto the bed, the threading assisting her in lifting his dead weight, as it had back in the condemned building he'd taken his tumble in. The old crow had seen to removing it in order to bandage him up. Isabel would never admit to the slight squirming and coloration of her cheeks when that measure was taken. She was much too busy appraising her handiwork and pestering the old bird, or course.
She chose to ignore his comment about undressing him. Not like she'd been the one to do it anyway. Not like she cared, either. It was his own damn fault he was losing his clothing, and she certainly wouldn't have voted in favor of it. "I think there's a bathroom just around the corner. I can call your friend back to help you along if you'd like."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
“And deprive myself of your charming company?" The words were uttered with an exaggerated sincerity, yet managed to avoid mocking condescension and instead merely conveyed a sense of genial amusement along with the other, less than subtle, insinuation.
The true reason behind his reluctance however had been the off putting manner in which the world had seemed to tilt when he’d tried to rise from the bed. The disconcerting sensation forced him to postpone any attempt to stand and instead caused the hessian to shift into a sitting position as he rested his shoulders against the cool drywall which served as the beds headboard.
Still, the action at least left him at eye level with Duskmoor, and while this did not seem to stop her smirking at him, it did at least prevent her from smirking down at him. A fact which had been subtly grating on him since he’d first noticed it.
“…besides,” He began, Making a brief show of taking in the spartan and sterile décor of his surroundings the elemental allowed his gaze to slide back to the shapely soubrette own hazel eyes and pause before he continued. “I’m quite content here, the scenery is second to none.”
Isabel rolled her eyes at the response she received about how charming she was, though she never lost her grin. He could call her names all he wanted and she'd still get the last laugh out of this particular outing. He just needed to stumble his way to a mirror first so he could admire his new look. He fit right in with his surroundings, now, after all. Clean and sterile looking, and grouchy on top of it, not unlike a certain nurse.
She heaved a sigh as the young man propped himself up against the wall at the head of the bed and remained there. Working with him would be a nightmare if he turned out to be this useless after every job. What good was having a mutation if it knocked you on your ass so hard you couldn't get out of bed after using it? Shouldn't he know his limitations better at his age? It was like babysitting, and Isabel hated kids.
One brow quirked slightly as he continued with his reply, all the while glancing about the room before turning back to her as he delivered his last line. This time her smirk faltered a bit and she could feel heat beginning to rise in her cheeks. That jackass!
As quickly as she could, she regained her composure, though there was little she could do about the color of her face. She wasn't going to let him win this one with some stupid little line. She wasn't going to be disarmed that easily. She could taunt him just as easily as he could her.
"Can't really say the same for the view from where I'm sitting," she countered, leaning back in her chair and affecting an air of comfortable disinterest. "Pretty bland, really. I never have been a huge fan of white." She made a gesture with her hand that indicated she may have been speaking about the Infirmary's decor, but her gaze never left the bedridden young man.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
In a vague way Zephyr realized that there was little reason for him to be as relaxed as he was given his current company and the somewhat strained state of his mutation. He’d seen Duskmoor snap into a rage with far less provocation than he was currently considering, however whether it was simply due to exhaustion or the unknown anesthetic running through his veins, the mercenary found it something a trial to summon any actual concern.
Quite the reverse actually, for in leaning back Duskmoor caused rather… interesting things to happen in the vicinity of the of the her chest, distracting the elemental momentarily as he realized that the buxom brunette appeared to have lost a button at some point, allowing one a glimpse of soft curves and the start of an enticing valley.
That being said, the girl had just leaned back and so while the sight was agreeable, it was not what it had been a few moments before, and thus the elementals gaze could barely have been said to linger at all before it returned to Duskmoor’s still faintly flushed features, a small smile returning to his lips when the girl actually attempted to imitate him as she gave her response.
"Can't really say the same for the view from where I'm sitting,"[/color]
It wasn’t a bad retort per say, the words were suitable and in other conditions likely would have proved an effecting deterrent. As things were however, the girl truly needed to practice her apathetic air, because despite endeavoring to appear indifferent and disinterested, she was far too focused, dare he say intent? Upon the young man across from her.
“Indeed?” His tone was still genial and amused now but held an undercurrent of skepticism. “From how intently you’ve been staring I never would have guessed.”
The gamines following comment was accompanied by a vague gesture in the direction of the departed white haired matron, though the brunettes eyes never wavered from the hessians own. In other circumstances, and if he were a number of years younger, the elemental would have quite possibly found the girls gaze somewhat nerve-wracking.
Now however he simply felt a certain interesting satisfaction as he returned the soubrettes look with nothing more than an urbane smile and a raised brow to convey his curiosity at her odd phrasing. His grin then became somewhat wry as his thoughts inadvertently flashed to his own snow haired sister before he dismissed the thoughts with a slight shake of his head and gave the gamine before him his full attention once more.
“Is that a fact” He said, his voice developing a slightly preoccupied cadence as his azure eyes narrowed and continued to hold the soubrettes gaze, a short moment of silence passing before he spoke again.
“Did you know your eyes have faint flecks of gold?“
Isabel was beginning to get annoyed. She wasn't a huge fan of word games. Probably because she wasn't very good at them. She was much better at slicing things open. Her companion, on the other hand, seemed to be nothing but chatter, and the comments he was continuously spouting in her direction were beginning to rub her the wrong way. She did her best to hold her smirk even as the muscles in her jaw tightened.
She also wasn't so used to people staring at her so intently. At least, not face-to-face. She could only imagine how many morons had glued their eyes to the horrific pictures of her that were still floating around. There were probably some that had stared in her direction when her attention had been preoccupied, too.
Maybe it was the way he was so laid back about it that bothered her. Glaring and nervous glances were something she'd grown accustomed to and could easily brush off. Zephyr was much too calm for someone who was staring down a well known mass murderer with a notoriously short temper. He even looked somewhat amused, which did nothing to work in his favor.
And of course he had to spout the obligatory response that would inevitable make her turn cherry red while he was staring. Yes. She knew very well what kinds of colors were in her eyes. Granted, she never spent a whole lot of time in front of the mirror, but after so many years owning those eyes, she was sure she could make a good guess as to waht their color was.
Her smirk faded as her face heated up again anyway and her bottom lip stuck out as her lower jaw jutted forward in her aggravation. She wasn't going to bother coming up with a retort to that. He was clearly enjoying himself way too much, and judging from how their conversation had gone so far, she was the one that would lose this sort of game.
Instead, she shifted her weight to one side so she could fish into her pocket and pull out her phone. Settling back into the chair she briefly busied herself with hitting a few spots on the touch screen before pointing the back of the phone toward the young man across from her. The overly bright light on the back lit up and then flashed as she captured a picture of him and proceeded to save it.
Her grin was fighting to find its way back onto her face as she brought the image up full screen before tossing the phone at the individual lounging on the bed.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
There was, it must be said, something oddly copacetic in watching Isabel revert from her typically cold and brazen behavior to that of a blushing yet still impertinent schoolgirl, even more so in knowing that he’d caused such a change without even lifting a finger. What was the axiom? Something to do with sticks and stones? His drug hazed mind seemed unable to recall the entirety of the saying yet he still felt it was somehow germane.
Still, he had to wonder how long his comely companion would allow him to toy with her like this; from what he’d seen and heard of her past actions the gamines ego wouldn’t tolerate even the faintest teasing, and though the elemental was enjoying the aesthetic results of her unusual patience, he again had to wonder what was behind it.
The answer to this unspoken question came rather sooner than expected as the buxom brunette abruptly busied herself with her phone, typing away on the touch screen of the slim device before aiming it at the hessian and briefly blinding him with a sudden flash of light. Even without being able to see though his other senses were easily able to track Isabel’s motions and when she unceremoniously threw the phone towards him a mere effort of will was all it took to deftly alter the devices course so that it landed squarely in his open hand instead of colliding with his chest.
Still blinking the lingering spots from his eyes Zephyr quirked a questioning eyebrow at Isabel even as his previous smile remained in place.
“While I’m touched that you want such a personal photo Isabel,” he paused briefly to gesture at his shirtless state, “if you want to keep it I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to return the favour, it would only be fair after all,” Lifting the phone without truly looking at it, his thumb carelessly skimmed the sensitive screen, dismissing the photo of himself before he could truly see it and returning the device back to its camera function as it was aimed back at the shapely soubrette and the elementals grin ever so slightly began to shift into a smirk as he spoke his following words with a faint but noticeably flattering cadence.
“…and we both know your nothing if not fair.”
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."
It shouldn't have come as any surprise that her attempts to get back at the bedridden young man just backfired yet again. She should be used to it by now, really. He never cooperated with her attempts and hardly ever seemed to let her actions ruffle him. Isabel, however, only grew increasingly frustrated in the process, as well as embarrassed far too often.
She had been sure that the photo on the phone's screen would have gotten a rise out of him. There weren't many people that were grateful for a sudden and less than agreed upon bleaching. Zephyr, however, seemed to be missing the point entirely. She probably should have taken his drug dosage into account. Morphine tended to make some people rather silly and inattentive. Though that wasn't to say she wasn't still going to hold him accountable for his words and actions.
He'd noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt, but not what state his own head was in. He seemed much more concerned with turning her photo idea back on her as he flipped the phone around and pointed the small lens in her direction. Of course, the proposal that accompanied the turning of the phone was effective enough in making her forget her disappointment over his initial failure to react to his new do.
She couldn't remember ever having such a proposition directed at her, likely with good reason. She was completely aghast. Just how badly did he want to stay in that bed? The flattering tone in his voice as he uttered the last statement didn't help. What the hell was wrong with him? She'd never met someone with such a strong death wish.
It took every ounce of willpower she had not to launch herself out of that chair and tear the boy limb from limb. She did leave her seat, but she did so as slowly as she could manage and approached the bed at the same pace. She could feel blood starting to well up against her fingers as her nails dug into her palms.
Carefully she sat herself on the edge of the bed, mindful of the limbs underneath the thin sheet. Maybe this'd finally get a rise out of the fool. She leveled her gaze with his and smiled as nicely as she could manage. "Fair, huh? I guess I could show you how fair I can be."
In all honesty, Zephyr had held no real expectations of Isabel acquiescing to his offer, regardless of the image her posters conveyed the girl herself seemed to have a sense of modesty which was practically Victorian; her previous and somewhat iconic costume was a testament to that; having consisted of multiple layers of cloth which had all but covered her from head to toe.
No, the hessian had simply been continuing his game, seeking to fluster and embarrass his attractive partner, even as a small and unheeded portion of his drugged mind clamored fiercely for him to stop. There was simply some strange appeal in seeing how many times one could pull the tigers tail, especially when it possessed such a pleasing figure.
Still, when the girl had slowly and deliberately risen from her seat and begun to stalk towards without a word the analgized elemental had wondered, for a mere handful of moments, whether he’d been right in his speculation of the brunettes unusual interest him as she down beside him on the bed.
"Fair, huh? I guess I could show you how fair I can be."[/color] She smiled as she spoke, her words conveyed in a verdantly honeyed tone as she leant forward and brought her face towards his; offering an unprecedented and quite enviable view down her poorly buttoned shirt…
Then she’d lunged, her hands snaking around his throat as she all but threw herself atop him and attempted to throttle the life from him without once losing her sickly sweet smile.
In his drug addled state the hessian had barely seen it coming and for the first few moments could barely do more than gasp and choke as he futilely tried to pry the girl off him. Physical strength had never been the elementals forte though and the outraged soubrette easily ignored his efforts, responding simply by straddling him in order to hold him in place.
It was only as his vision had begun to fade that panic finally took hold completely and he threw everything he had into a simple desire to escape. At that moment he didn’t care what it might cost him as he focused his mutation inward and all but tore himself and everything around him incorporeal without any focus or concentration.
The transformation was almost instant; one moment his bruised and battered body had been struggling beneath Isabel weight, the next he was gone, nothing more than a senseless cloud of faintly coloured air hovering over the now empty bed as he attempted to gather his wits.
He never got the chance; almost as soon as he’d succeeded in becoming ethereal his entire being seemed to scream in silent strain. Then something suddenly gave way and with the sensation of a stretched elastic band snapping forcefully back into place, Zephyr found himself abruptly falling a short distance back onto the bed with something soft, warm and not quite heavy enough to be uncomfortable lying atop him.
For the first handful of seconds he simply lay still, gasping for air as his mind reeled and with the sudden disorientation of changing states so quickly. Before he could truly come to come to grips with things however, he felt whatever was above him begin to stir and an almost weary feeling of dread came over him even as the realization caused adrenaline to flood him with excitement.
If he lived through the next few minutes, he’d have one hell of a story to tell.
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."