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.
Site adaptation by Sen, Lix, and Tempest. <3
So I got a religious symbol @#%faced. (AV- Magdalene)
Iraq? Definitely a soldier, then. With what minimal knowledge she had of the world, some of the more talked about events took precedent. She had also needed to do some research for various parts of the world she had visited within the last handful of years. Parts of Africa, Europe, Asia. She'd spent a few very short trips in Russia, visiting similar monasteries to her own with the Father, and had traveled on a week long mission trip to Israel only a year ago with the Abbess.
Solemnly, she turned back around in her chair and set her half-empty cup on the counter. Smoky turned to refill it, though she wouldn't be touching it again for a while.
"Meh, they're just blowing off steam. Sal @#$^ed Rope's girl like... twenty years ago. Then Rope lit Sal's car on fire. It's how they deal with it, is all."
Peculiar, and yet she supposed it made sense. It was human nature after all. "Some cultures would settle dispute long ago." She fidgeted on the stool and glanced over her shoulder at the continuing fight. "In Peru, there is festival where people settle things in large fight." She'd witnessed one first hand, once. It had been aggressive and violent, but strangely beautiful. Members of the community who had issues with one another would get them all out in the air and resolved within that one day... hopefully.
She didn't personally approve of it but had a good deal of respect for different cultures.
"You can't go around doin that, Mag... Remember we gotta lay low."
She only responded with a sheepish grin and turned back around in her seat. "Sorry... Do not like seeing people in pain." She reached for her glass again to sip at it, until the one called Rope wandered on over toward her. At first, she simply stared back at him, before laughing and reaching out to gently run her fingers over the affected areas of his face. She'd already forgotten what Cole had said.
A few seconds later and he was off again, and she was chuckling to herself. "They are like children!" Kids who would run over for a bandaid and then run off to continue injuring themselves even more.
"Some cultures would settle dispute long ago. In Peru, there is festival where people settle things in large fight."
"Well, #$%^, I need to move to Peru, huh?" He took another swig of his drink, and looked over to her, and her full glass.
"Uhhh... I coulda sworn I seen you drink that." He looked over to Smoky. "@#%$'s sake, how many times did you refill her? I ain't payin for all that @#^&."
Smoky smirked and gave him the finger, and started cleaning a glass in a very stereotypical bartender fashion.
He slowly turned to Magdeline, staring intensely. "... How @#$^ed up are you?" She looked loose, not too toasted. "I can't go gettin you @#$^ faced... You know how much alcohol they put in th-"
She healed Sal.
Sal felt his face, and turned to start a fight again. Soon they both returned, standing awkwardly for a second, and then waving ol tommy one eye over. The man stood and headed over. Will finished his beer, and gripped the empty bottle tightly. Tommy was kinda a jackass. He was always grumpy about something. Sour.
The bar rat stared at Mag with his one good eye, and then looked to the other two men. "Th' F#$% you call me over here for, Sal. I got me way to much drinking to do to see some damn magic trick."
With a gentle grin, she hummed an agreement at him and swiveled her chair a bit. She could see him fitting in with that community quite well, actually. Except for the fancy car... and general attitude.... well, maybe he wouldn't fit in necessarily, but he would certainly be popular on the 25th of December when the festival began!
Uhhh... I coulda sworn I seen you drink that. @#%$'s sake, how many times did you refill her? I ain't payin for all that @#^&."
The Greek giggled unashamedly behind a hand and didn't even attempt to deny it. It was past caring at that point, and if the bartender was fine with it so was she!
"... How @#$^ed up are you? I can't go gettin you @#$^ faced... You know how much alcohol they put in th-"
"...How does one measure @#$ed up?"
...Oh, had she repeated that back at him? The giggling continued, even as Sal and Rope rejoined them, and brought another along with... and this one was wearing an eye-patch!
"Th' F#$% you call me over here for, Sal. I got me way to much drinking to do to see some damn magic trick."
Magdalene tilted her head slightly, both at his words and so she could get a better look at his face. There was slight scarring around the eye, or at least what she could see around the patch. She assumed he'd lost the eye unwillingly, and that it had probably been painful. The end of one scar tapered off to a jagged point. Probably from a knife.
Quicker than she was able to register she slipped from her seat and approached him, easily stepping into his personal space as Sal and Rope had the man distracted. Both men were drunkenly trying to explain their various wounds that she'd magicked away.
She moved a half circle around him before reaching up to place the tips of her fingers around his eye-patch. At first, Tommy jerked away.. Her touch had sent a pleasant tingle through his face.
She disarmed his confusion with an honest, if a little dopey smile, and reached out again to resume contact.
A few minute later Tommy stepped back from her. Small scratches had appeared on her forehead under her bangs, but with the physical contact having been broken they were quick to fade away. Small patches of irritated skin could be seen on her palm if one looked closely enough, but were also quickly healed away by her power.
Tommy lifted a hand and removed the eye patch, startling most of those present withe the sudden presence of a perfectly healthy, perfectly intact eye where there had only once been a socket.
A brief silence reigned over the bar as she wobbled back to her seat a little unsteadily, before Sal and Rope burst into loud, rancorous cheering.
"...How does one measure @#$ed up?" He laughed in response. It was a genuine, surprised laugh. As it died down he just stared at her for a moment, and then took another drink of his beer.
Tommy's eye made a reappearance. D9 watched with deep interest. Damn... That was something, wasn't it? What couldn't this lady heal?
And, just like that, the homely little dive bar was suddenly filled with energy. Tommy one eye, or rather, just Tommy now, was so happy he bought shots for everyone. The music was turned up. Everyone slowly made their way to the bar, and started the business of drinking.
Cole was a little hesitant a first, but let's be honest, he'd never turned down a free drink in his life. Before he knew it, he was getting pretty toasted too, and they group of men gathered around he woman was happily playing with her powers. One man threw a dart into his own knee, yelped, and held it up to her.
They were playing music, singing, and generally causing havok. All the while, Cole stayed close, not letting her out of arms reach. Even if they were all having fun, you never knew when something would go wrong.
They quickly moved from darts to a switch blade Rope had. Sal stood up and walked out in front of the group, telling Rope to stab him in the side. Rope paused for a moment, and then shrugged, plunging the weapon deep into his kidney. Sal stumbled, and then looked down at it, shocked for a second as he processed the pain. He then burst out laughing and stumbled toward the healer.
At this point, Willy was starting to notice the blood on her hands... A bit on her head, too. "Uh... Hey, you alright?"
This... this was what she loved to do. This was what gave her life purpose. How she could so easily alter someone's life for the better with such a simple act.
Watching joy creep into someone's face when they discovered that they were whole again, and in some cases when she could see the benefits of her healing spreading within someone it erased all doubts from her mind. This was where she belonged. This was what she had been called to do.
She laughed along as the bar full of full grown men erupted with life. People were singing and dancing. Tommy has shoveling drinks at her, which she was slyly shifting back to the bar behind her. She sipped on her fruity concoction that Smoky just kept on refilling, with an elated flush on her face.
As the night went on and the boys grew rowdier, she was all too happy to continue sharing her gift. It was such a far different reaction from what she was used to that she was content with being greedy for the moment and lapping it all up.
These men were different... They weren't children with missing legs and arms. They weren't women with mutilated bodies, or poor village folk stricken with debilitating diseases. This wasn't the face of poverty, illness, or war.
She plucked the dart from the injured knee presented to her and quickly helped to heal the small wound with ease. If she had a choice, she would willingly spend the rest of her life surrounded by similar people, simply helping to keep them healthy and happy.
She pushed on through minor pain as her repeated usage of her gift started to take a toll on her. Wounds had appeared upon her face and arms... she didn't react to the blood, simply wiping away errant drips that leaked into her eyes with the back of one sleeve, and so neither did any of the liquored up men. There was so much going on... so many hoot and hollers and Dart wound after dart wound... They gradually started to add up though, and a sickly paleness was starting to creep into her face.
Around that time Sal ended up with a blade poking out of his side like it was a movie prop. He stumbled on over without a care in the world, still laughing in fact.. but she cold already tells that this particular injury was a little more dangerous than the others had been. She drunkenly wondered how he wasn't wailing in pain, even as she bled freely from feet hands and face onto the floor under her. The knife had most assuredly damaged him internally given where it was located. The wounds on her hands and feet, hidden partially by her shoes and clothes had transitioned into full-blown open wounds. It was easy to assume that most of the blood was from the fools cavorting around injuring themselves for entertainment.
But...It seemed at least one person started to notice a difference.
"Uh... Hey, you alright?"
"Am fine..." She muttered distractedly, in a quiet tone. She didn't look at him. She'd had her back to him for most of the festivities, and was currently fixated on pulling the blade from Sal as gently as he could, before pressing a hand firmly onto the wound.
The man actually sighed in relief from her touch as he held his shirt out of the way for her.
Her brows pinched together as she counted down the time it normally took to heal such a wound in her head. Ten minutes? Yes.. that sounded about right.
Oh.. but how long had they been in the bar that this point? How many wounds had she already fixed before this? Her thoughts were fuzzy as she tried to add them all together.
A pain crept up on her right side, just at the base of her ribs and she instantly sobered up a little. She was pushing herself too far... If the last wound was already starting to appear, she was nearing her limit quickly. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind behind the fuzziness, that she needed to stop.
...Unfortunately, she also knew that a kidney injury like that for a drunk man who more than likely would not end up in a hospital in time would not end well. She could not stop until it was healed, or Sal had a very good chance of death.
The wound at her side progressed as she pressed a shaking hand harder on his wound. It was progressing quicker than usual considering how she had been pushing herself without thinking... Given the intensity of the pain she was currently feeling, and how it only kept growing, she was sure that it had spread past her ribs at that point as was steadily heading for the lower lobe of her lung.
Dark, red began to seep through the cream top she was wearing, spreading at an alarming rate as the unseen wound opened up further. Magdalene squeezed her eyes shut tightly, brows drawn together in a pinched fashion as tears began to gather in the corners of her eyes. They streaked down her cheeks like little rivers of blood.
By the time Sal's wound was completely gone she was having a little trouble breathing. One of her lungs was compromised and leaking air into her chest cavity. Blood started to appear at one corner of her mouth when she breathed out.
Posted by Saphirus on Apr 19, 2017 23:09:39 GMT -6
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No one seemed to notice what was going on. They were all too busy seeing the miracle that was Sal's miraculous recovery to notice that his savior's life blood was practically pouring out as they spoke.
"You are not fine. Shit... We gotta get you outa here." Now.... He was drunk. She was drunk. Both of their judgments could easily be called into question right about now. His judgment told him to grab her cradle style, lift her into his arms, and carry her right out. He did so. Through the cries of surprise and protest, he hauled her through the door of Smoky's
"You're bleeding a lot. Do you need to get to the hospital?" It was a risky place to take her, but it was better than her bleeding to death by far.
She was just starting to gather her wits about her when she was suddenly plucked from her seat and ushered out the door. She pressed one hand against the wound at her side, while dizzily trying to adjust to her new position in someone's arms.
"You are not fine. Shit... We gotta get you outa here."
Sure, that sounded fine. Just fine.. but, he was touching her. Some skin to skin contact was being made, and though he didn't mean it he was preventing her body from starting the healing process on itself. Her wounds were progressing and she was just weak enough not to be able to stop them.
Father Alphaeus had warned her about pushing herself too far for this very reason.
"You're bleeding a lot. Do you need to get to the hospital?"
She shook her head weakly. "No... need to be set down." Oh, it was so painful. Every time she forgot just how much. "... will... heal. Must not be touching anyone..."
She waited in silent agony, unable to struggle due to how weak she physically felt.
When she was ultimately freed, she sank to her knees and curled in on herself. Immediately her power kicked into gear and started to heal her from inside out. She lifted her shirt slightly in order to watch its progress as the puncture wound between her ribs started to shrink and knit itself back together. The holes on her hands and feet were next in line, eventually vanishing on fresh bare skin as if they hadn't been there at all. By the time the cuts on her face were starting to heal she was able to push herself back up to her feet and was wiping her face clean of blood.
Magdalene plucked at her ruined shirt momentarily, a little unsteady on her feet, before beaming at Cole.
Posted by Saphirus on Apr 19, 2017 23:56:52 GMT -6
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Cole's brow creased in confusion as she demanded to be put down. He nodded in understanding after a moment of slowed drunken thought before gently setting her down, and stumbling off to the side as she healed.
Those last five drinks had been a bit much, maybe.
When she suddenly showed herself to be perfectly fine, he couldn't help but stare for a moment. "Heh... You're really something, aren't you? I mean... You were just bleeding like a stuck pig but... here you are. All #$^kin sunshine and roses. Ain't the least bit upset or shocked."
He chuckled as she shook his head, reaching a hand up to run it through his hair.
"Well, I don't wanna deal with that crowd in there anymore... an I don't want you hurting yourself anymore. Why don't we head on over to the room?" He turned to walk over in the direction of the car.
"Heh... You're really something, aren't you? I mean... You were just bleeding like a stuck pig but... here you are. All #$^kin sunshine and roses. Ain't the least bit upset or shocked."
"Conditioning." She chirped back happily, and uselessly tried to dust her clothes off. "This happens whenever I heal someone. I am well used to it by now."
"Well, I don't wanna deal with that crowd in there anymore... an I don't want you hurting yourself anymore. Why don't we head on over to the room?"
She nodded, and when he turned away she did a little experimental twirl to test her balance. After nearly falling over her own feet, she quickly ceased. "Good idea. Need shower now anyway."
It appeared that he was heading toward his car... she glanced across the street to where the supposed room was. "Ah... Mr. Cole?" She didn't move from her spot, "You intend to drive?... I am still dripping blood." He'd said that car was expensive, and while she didn't know how expensive, she did know that people who purchased expensive things tended to be very protective of them.
Mag's, as he had dubbed her earlier, spun on her heels clumsily as she waited for a reply. What was it that officers of the law did to prove sobriety? Walk a straight line for so many steps?
Posted by Saphirus on Apr 23, 2017 23:52:42 GMT -6
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D9 stared at her drunkly for a second before rubbing the facial hair beneath his lip lazily in thought with his index finger. "Conditioning... I know that... Learned it in a different place, I guess... But yeah. I can relate." He nodded slowly, and went on walking, reaching out to brace her as she tried to spin.
"Hey, hey, watch it, now. You could hurt yourself or somethin." He spoke ironically as he straightened her up, and let her walk on her own. He wasn't exactly coordinated enough to guide them both at this point either, he just knew better than to try amateur acrobatics. He stopped and turned when she spoke her inhibitions about getting into the car.
He went deadpan for a second, and then pointed past the car to the hotel across the street. "I ain't drinkin and then driving that car." He balked at the very thought of putting a scratch on his precious Lambo.
"We're hoofin it, For sure." He grinned, and steadied himself for a moment, stumbling toward the sidewalk. "You know... You ain't doin too bad... Ida thought you'd be all straight edge or something... Uh... that's when people don't drink and stuff. Y'all drink at the convent?"
Magdalene giggled silently behind a hand and staggered onward, paying special attention to her shoes and how they met the pavement. Even though she healed at a ridiculous rate it didn't make falling on her face hurt any less!
"You know... You ain't doin too bad... Ida thought you'd be all straight edge or something... Uh... that's when people don't drink and stuff. Y'all drink at the convent?"
He was correct. She wouldn't have known what that term meant. She was still barely managing to translate in her head what with his constant dropping of letters and American slang.
"Very much so.. but in different manner." She attempted to remain within arms reach of him, but he was taller and had a longer gait. She spent equal parts of her time falling slightly behind in a distracted manner and hurrying to catch up without tripping over herself.
"Is treated as social activity among family in Greece. Very common to share spirits during dinners and holidays." She'd tasted wine at the tender age of six, which really wasn't abnormal for her culture. "In Monastery wine is served at dinner, and Occasional Ouzo. Um..." What American drink could be similar to Ouzo? They all seemed to be too sugary, or too plain... nothing in the middle. "You have had absinthe, yes? Is much like that." That one was popular among the college age kids now, wasn't it?
She huffed slightly, "Stereotype of religious figures is spread by those who do not believe that humans have basic capability to think rationally and clearly when presented with things that enhance life or give pleasure."
She may or may not have been thinking of a few select figures while complaining about it.
He smirked as she stumbled a few times; he could feel her back there, even through his own drunken haze. He was careful not to stray too far from her as well. If she actually did fall, he could catch her before she hit the ground.
She spoke as they crossed the still, silent street. He paid close attention; he liked talking when he was drunk, and more than just to hear his own voice. He'd met some of the most interesting people in his life in a strange place over a few beers. #$%&ed a lot of them, too.
"Huh...Oozoo... Maybe I'll go to Greece after I hit up Peru, huh? Sounds like my kinda place." He chuckled, turning as he stepped up the curb on the other side of the street, and reaching out a gloved hand as she listened to her.
"Mind the bump... So... You think rationally when pleasure is involved, then? Can't say I do, bein honest. Maybe it's an american thing, but religious people around here don't do a lot of drinking... Don't do a whole lot of anything, really, cept get mad at people who aren't like them."
He turned and walked toward their room. "Thought you would be the same, kinda. Gotta say, Mother Magdalene... You ain't the stiff I thought you'd be." He patted his pockets for the key to the room for a moment, scrunching his face as he tried to remember where he'd put it.
The Greek grinned slightly, "If you do, make sure you spend time within smaller cities around Greece... Many families brew their own drinks. Tsipouro, or Raki... You American's would call it moonshine, I think."
She'd tried some once a long while ago. Still couldn't quite remember the events that followed. "Will knock socks off."
She took the offered hand and hopped on up onto the curb with relative ease (and only a little swaying).
"So... You think rationally when pleasure is involved, then? Can't say I do, bein honest. Maybe it's an american thing, but religious people around here don't do a lot of drinking... Don't do a whole lot of anything, really, cept get mad at people who aren't like them. Thought you would be the same, kinda. Gotta say, Mother Magdalene... You ain't the stiff I thought you'd be."
She wrinkled her nose slightly as he moved on ahead of her, "Disconnect." She stated simply, before following after. "People become so engrossed in specific ways of thinking they do not allow themselves to see outside of bubble." Interestingly enough, she shared similar views as him. A lot of those who claimed to share her beliefs did not understand them enough to see beyond an immediate presumed meaning.
"Is not a sin to drink. Is not a sin to enjoy things. Only becomes sin when you allow those things to overtake judgment."
She watched him as he searched himself for something before it dawned on her what he might be looking for. She produced the keycard she still carried, since she'd never given it back to him and reached around him slightly to slid it through the scanner.
"Personally, I choose to think all things through. Believe that only through understanding something can you enjoy it fully, and why spend life only knowing things at half potential?"
Once she entered the suite, she made a beeline for the bathroom while fumbling her shoes off. She very much needed to wash the blood from her person. It was becoming sticky.
Maybe it was because he was 14 drinks in, or maybe it was because she was honestly fairly attractive with that habit off, but he was really jiving with the kind mother. Like... He was feelin this.
"Moonshine, huh? My gramps actually used to make some pretty good apple pie... You had that before? Like, 80 percent alcohol, tastes like sweet, sweet america...Damn, I miss that stuff." He felt a slight tingle in his arm as she brushed past him to unlock the door, making a small bit of skin contact in the process. He looked at his arm for a second, and then blinked.
Hell was that?
Kinda nice. He zoned out a bit as he felt a wave of dizziness on the way in, opting to take a seat on the bed in the middle of the small room. Huh, did he ask for a single bed? Hello, foresight.
"Yeah? When do you know when your judgment isn't all there, then?" As she got ready to shower, he took off his coat. He was feeling warm. He revealed hard arms, tattooed, scarred... They'd seen a lot.
"I feel that, I guess... I never really lived my life half cocked, you know? I dunno if I can. I go all out, no matter what I do. Life's boring otherwise."
She disappeared to shower, and he kicked off his shoes and started to relax. After a long moment, he took a deep breath, and sighed it out.
Yup. He was gonna give her the bed. He stood up and grabbed a pillow, tossing it on the floor in front of the bed. Why did he have to be such a nice guy?
"Moonshine, huh? My gramps actually used to make some pretty good apple pie... You had that before? Like, 80 percent alcohol, tastes like sweet, sweet america...Damn, I miss that stuff."
Her attention zeroed back in on him as he explained, attempting to make eye contact and hold it while she listened. The Abbess had always advised her against it, something about it being intimidating to some. She broke that rule often... she liked being able to see how someone's brain was working as they spoke. The eyes often carried emotions, after all.
"I have not... will have to try some day. Most home made stuff I have tasted is like... mm... licorice. Warm, familiar."
"Yeah? When do you know when your judgment isn't all there, then?"
She hummed slightly, tucking her shoes over by the bag that held her robes and veil. "For me is when I can't explain something. Don't understand fully what has happened. Like.. blank spots in memory where there should be pictures or sounds." She turned to look at him and spotted the patchwork of tattoos and hints of scars. What stories did they have? How painful were they? She traced a few with her eyes before reigning herself back in.
"Is like when you watch a movie. If you enjoy it and pay attention you remember more. No scenes are missing. All of the feeling is there. If you are distracted by one part you might miss something else equally as important."
"I feel that, I guess... I never really lived my life half cocked, you know? I dunno if I can. I go all out, no matter what I do. Life's boring otherwise."
She smiled, which was surely a strange sight considering that she was still covered in blood from head to toe. "Is only way to truly life. Why lock yourself in bubble, no? We all die someday... best to enjoy as much as we can."
She skittered off then, to quickly clean up. A few minutes later she reemerged with her bloodied clothes in her arms and swallowed up in a one-size-fits-all cotton robe. She briefly deposited the dirty clothes on the floor away from her clean clothes, before heading toward the bed.
She still wanted to know more about his tattoos, and there wasn't really a non-direct way of asking. She was also still a little fuzzy from the drinks. Warm, happy fuzzy, but fuzzy all the same. She perched on the edge of the bed, dark hair pulled back from her face with a curious blue gaze fixed on him.
"May I see?" She pointed a finger at the arm closest to her.