The X-men run missions and work together with the NYPD, striving to maintain a peaceful balance between humans and mutants. When it comes to a fight, they won't back down from protecting those who need their help.
Haven presents itself as a humanitarian organization for activists, leaders, and high society, yet mutants are the secret leaders working to protect and serve their kind. Behind the scenes they bring their goals into reality.
From the time when mutants became known to the world, SUPER was founded as a black-ops division of the CIA in an attempt to classify, observe, and learn more about this new and rising threat.
The Syndicate works to help bring mutantkind to the forefront of the world. They work from the shadows, a beacon of hope for mutants, but a bane to mankind. With their guiding hand, humanity will finally find extinction.
Since the existence of mutants was first revealed in the nineties, the world has become a changed place. Whether they're genetic misfits or the next stage in humanity's evolution, there's no denying their growing numbers, especially in hubs like New York City. The NYPD has a division devoted to mutant related crimes. Super-powered vigilantes help to maintain the peace. Those who style themselves as Homo Superior work to tear society apart for rebuilding in their own image.
MRO is an intermediate to advanced writing level original character, original plot X-Men RPG. We've been open and active since October of 2005. You can play as a mutant, human, or Adapted— one of the rare humans who nullify mutant powers by their very existence. Goodies, baddies, and neutrals are all welcome.
Short Term Plots:Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
The Fountain of Youth
A chemical serum has been released that's shaving a few years off of the population. In some cases, found to be temporary, and in others...?
MRO MOVES WITH CURRENT TIME: What month and year it is now in real life, it's the same for MRO, too.
Fuegogrande: "Fuegogrande" player of The Ranger, Ion, Rhia, and Null
Neopolitan: "Aly" player of Rebecca Grey, Stephanie Graves, Marisol Cervantes, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, Sabine Sang, Eupraxia
Ongoing Plots
Magic and Mystics
After the events of the 2020 Harvest Moon and the following Winter Solstice, magic has started manifesting in the MROvere! With the efforts of the Welldrinker Cult, people are being converted into Mystics, a species of people genetically disposed to be great conduits for magical energy.
The Pharoah Dynasty
An ancient sorceress is on a quest to bring her long-lost warrior-king to the modern era in a bid for global domination. Can the heroes of the modern world stop her before all is lost?
Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
Adapteds
What if the human race began to adapt to the mutant threat? What if the human race changed ever so subtly... without the x-gene.
Atlanteans
The lost city of Atlantis has been found! Refugees from this undersea mutant dystopia have started to filter in to New York as citizens and businessfolk. You may make one as a player character of run into one on the street.
Got a plot in mind?
MRO plots are player-created the Mods facilitate and organize the big ones, but we get the ideas from you. Do you have a plot in mind, and want to know whether it needs Mod approval? Check out our plot guidelines.
The spare obsidian helmet was eventually located in the concealing shadows at the rear of closet and summarily tucked under one arm as Zephyr straightened and then turned his gaze on the shelf which ran across the top of the small space and where the hessian knew his Berretta rested just beyond conventional sight. He'd originally obtained the piece from Mondragon labs when Antonescue had still been in control, the mercenary's motivation for doing so had driven simply from a desire to avoid becoming completely dependent upon his mutation in combat, and with the inset of his migraines the azure eyed elemental had taken to carrying the weapon more often than usual. A school full of children however was not a suitable location for such a tool and so after only a moments pause the hessian withdrew from the closet and made his way over to the dresser.
A handful of minutes later Zephyr emerged from his bedroom fully clothed and with an ebony helmet clasped lightly in one hand as he made his way back to the kitchen where he stopped upon seeing Ghost perched upon his counter and peering intently into one of his cupboards as though searching for a glint of diamond in a mound of coal. A bemused expression overtook the Hessian's features as he watched the sylph for a moment before casting his focus out into the surrounding air, crafting a modest patch of space to his will as he condensed it to little less than the size of dime and using it to tap the sylph on the shoulder.
"If you're finished looking around we can leave."
As the slender waif lowered herself back to the floor Zephyr pivoted on his heel and headed to the front door, pausing briefly to collect his key's from a nearby table and his leather jacket from its hook on the wall. Idly switching the extra helmet between his hands the British elemental donned the extra layer of clothing before then offering the spare piece of headgear to his guest and retrieving his own, "Hold onto to this, it shouldn't need much adjustment but feel free to change it if you need to."
With that they left the apartment and proceeded down to the buildings parking allotment, wandering idly between the lengthy rows of vehicles before Zephyr stopped in front of a low set ash toned motorcycle. Giving the waif only a cursory glance the hessian deftly donned his helmet and swung himself onto the machine and started the ignition before motioning for the submissive sylph to join him. She settled herself somewhat awkwardly initially and hesitantly wrapped her arms around the merc's frame, causing him to shake his head in wry amusement as he revved the engine somewhat more forcefully than was necessary and had the bike pull sharply out onto the road and proceeded to shift through gears, rapidly gaining speed at a pace which left other vehicles seemingly at standstill.
Driving was one of the few things which Zephyr had found to actually benefit from his current growing pains. As the root cause of his migraines was due to his inability to deactivate his spatial awareness the hessian had been forced to deal with constant influx of additional sensory data and as a result had become far more proficient at interpreting the information. In essence the hazel haired mercenary was capable of driving with his eyes closed if he wished, and had actually experimented with doing so once or twice with almost no consequence.
The true reward though was in the rush of adrenaline which came from knowing the precise dimensions of space existing between other racing vehicles and knowing that it would only take the slightest slip to bring everything to a complete and utter halt. The sense of satisfaction which arose from weaving in and out of other vehicles by flitting through gaps that existed for little more than a second in order to race ahead. It was perhaps a foolish indulgence but as he whipped briefly into the opposing lane and passed within inches of an oncoming SUV Zephyr felt he was entitled to at least one or two vices.
The fact that Ghost now had a death grip on his chest and was likely scared out of her wits was simply a bonus.
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."
Ghost grinned at Zephyr sheepishly. She really hadn't come to snoop, but she'd ended up doing it anyway. Probably would have had a better snoop of it too, had he not been here. She let the cabinet fall closed and hopped down off the counter. "You should hang some pictures or something." He had practically nothing that personalized this place. She would have to take some when they next went out with Katrina or something.
Helmet. Frown at helmet. Take helmet from Zephyr's hands. If Ghost had her way, she would be riding fast and furious down the down with the windows down and the wind running through her hair. Not with the wind running over her... wait. Why did she need a helmet?
The garage told her. Motorcycle. Oh. She should have guessed. "My dad's gonna kill me." Ghost grinned and pulled the helmet on. If he happened to be at the Mansion right now. She held her phone out at an awkward angle so that she could read the display through the helmet. He was at work. Excellent.
But then... how did one get on a motorbike when one was wearing a floofy skirt. Nothing seemed elegant or proper enough so she just did it. She hiked up her skirt, scooted on and let the frills and fluffs fall back into place. "Don't wreck." She really wasn't attired for a safe motorcycle ride. And then there was the matter of the hand placement. So much for keeping a proper distance.
And then they were zipping along. Ghost imagined that this was what flying, actual flying- with a physical body, felt like. It was better than good. It was great. Until he started weaving into oncoming traffic.
'mustnotghostmustnotghost.'
It was better to not have her eyes open. It was better to hold on for dear life. It was going to be better after they stopped. And after she strangled him.
The journey to the Institute was accomplished in relatively little time, the traffic had been pleasantly light once the pair had managed to escape the city and so Zephyr had largely had the roads to himself, allowing him to open throttle and send the bike roaring around blind turns at speeds most others wouldn't even consider. In the end though as the upper level of the mansion came into sight the hessian reigned his machine into a more moderate level of speed as he approached the ornate metal gates which guarded the schools entrance where he finally came to a stop.
"Ghost, we're here."
The sylph gave no indication of having heard him, indeed the girl positively refused to relinquish her hold on his chest, until the mercenary reached an arm back and rapped a knuckle against the girl's helmet and repeated himself.
"We're here Ghost... you can let go any time now."
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."
Knock, knock. Who's there? "We're here Ghost... you can let go any time now."
Ghost sort of shoved him in her haste to let go. Then shoved him on purpose because he had driven like that on purpose. "I don't think you have a right to dislike Slate anymore." And that was the extent of her unhappiness. He had not been careful with her life which she had entrusted to him. "You didn't crash at least."
And she slid her jello legs off the bike. The stuffy helmet came off. That was good. Ghost opened the main gate for Zephyr and once he had puttered though, she followed on foot. It had been a good ride at first. Then he had tried to kill them both.
"Guest parking is over there." She motioned with her hands to a few paved spaces off the front horseshoe. I dunno where you wanna put these." She wiggled her helmet in her hand. Kids were likely to run off with them or at least displace them.
"We're in one of the bottom floor class rooms. Danger Room is booked today." Ghost danced up the familiar steps to the heavy front door and pulled it open for her guest. "Straight down the hall, third door to your right. The infirmary is further down after the end of the hallway, you'll hang a right."
Just in case it was needed. The first thing they would to do was clear the few desks and chairs to the side. Ghost set the helmet Zephyr had lent her on one of the chairs as she picked it up and put it at the edge of the wall.
Zephyr couldn't help smug smile which worked its way onto his features as Ghost all but leapt off the bike in her attempts to get off the machine she clearly felt had nearly been the death of her. The retaliatory shove she sent his way unexpected but consider how light the sylph was it barely even jarred the hessian and instead only fueled his amusement as he lifted his visor and adopted an impassive tone. "Have a little faith Ghost, I knew what I was doing."
Sadly though it seemed as though the waif was unwilling to extend her trust any further for she hastily scrambled off of the bike in an effort to get both feet back onto the ground. This in itself was a mildly entertaining sight for the girl's own sense of balance seemed to have abandoned her momentarily, thus making the sylph's movement's less than graceful to say the least. Despite her difficulties however the pale ingénue managed to open the gates and direct the hessian towards an appropriate parking spot.
A short while later the pair of air elementals meandered down the polished oak corridors of the Xavier institute, idly weaving through the occasional clutter of puerile adolescents littering the halls as they proceeded to their assigned room. Privately Zephyr was somewhat surprised that a room had even been available, especially given the number of children he could sense throughout the building. Still though, the hessian wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth and so when followed Ghost into the inexplicably empty room he wordlessly assisted her in clearing a small space in the center. Such a task though took relatively little time though and soon Zephyr found himself resting against the rooms far wall with his coat and helmet sitting atop a displaced desk.
"So..." He stated blandly as he tilted his head to gaze at Ghost. "How do we begin?"
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."
"You begin by looking." Ghost noticed some fundamentals that were different between herself and her counterpart when they first met. She wanted to know if he could notice them too. "Have you ever noticed that we're different? Our bodies are very disparate." Though not in size or shape. They had eerily similar body types. His clothes had fit her well.
The difference lay in their inherent oxygen levels. Zephyr's body remained as solid as the average human. Ghost's body carried on in a mostly solid state too. Not entirely solid anymore, but pretty close. She wanted him to notice the concentration of pure air kept within her body. Ghost maintained a higher and purer volume of air in her lungs and blood.
"Don't ask me how it works, I can't give you a science lesson or anything. But you can watch it happen. I think everyone just has to find their own way. Personalize it. Make it yours." No two phasewalkers or incorporeal mutants were the same, after all.
Ghost held out her hand between them. If she took her whole body, it happened fast. She hadn't ever dissected it before. It always worked intuitively. Changing just her hand, for instance, made things a bit more tricky.
It was a letting go. A deep desire to be away and gone and free, but it wasn't fighting. It was surrendering. To direct the feeling slowly and with intention proved a difficult feat and a good practice for Ghost. She imagined her digit in a Chinese finger trap. The bonds that made her solid and kept her in that state began to break. The extra air in her body somehow weakened them to the point of collapse.
In the end, her finger wafted upward and outward, still strangely tethered to her hand by some unseen force.
An incredulous brow was raised at this rather vague statement and for a handful of moments Zephyr considered the myriad possibility of suggestive comments dancing through his thoughts. The sylph certainly had a... unique way with words and if the hessian hadn't known better he would have sworn that the girl was intentionally leaving herself open for evocative repartee, such was the frequency of her poor wording. In retrospect it actually worked in the ingénue's favour to some measure; it afforded her an air of naivety which was only partially genuine and caused other's categorize her as a well meaning, if slightly unworldly girl which, in Zephyr's mind at least, made the sylph a predictable source of entertainment, provided she were handled correctly.
Possibly cognizant of her own slip or perhaps catching the slight smirk marring the mercenary's otherwise insouciant visage the ingénue swiftly spoke again to clarify her attentions but, as seemed to be her nature, only served to dig herself a deeper hole and Zephyr found himself rolling his eyes as his voice adapted a dry tone. "Differences do tend to exist between men and women."
Even as he spoke though the British elementals attention drifted through the air towards his impromptu teacher. Air was Zephyr's element, and like any master magician he was aware of the components which comprised his gift, indeed his recent affliction had only served to heighten his overall awareness, and so it was with an unnatural ease that the hessian found himself deftly tracing the faint flow of air into the gamines lungs. For most people the lungs served as the greatest concentration of gases in the body and while this was still true with Ghost it was only just barely. The sylphs lungs seemed to siphon a far greater portion of oxygen from each breath and, oddly, not all of it appeared to travel through the waif's blood. If anything it was almost as though the oxygen were flowing sedately through her flesh at a pace slower than her own pulse.
As he continued his assiduous survey Zephyr gaze narrowed as his eyes scanned the ingénue's figure, starting with upper torso and flowing from one limb to another, following the examination taking place just beneath the girl's skin and aiding the mercenary in building a more complete mental image even as the gamine continued talking, however once the sylph began to dissipate her form Simon's attention shifted rapidly as he watched and felt the multitude of bonds comprising Ghost's finger slip and unweave in a slow but noticeable pattern, causing a spark of curiosity to light in the azure eyed elementals mind. A series of questions interrupting his thoughts, each one enticing in its own way, however the simplest and most basic of questions was one which had been faced by mankind for generations.
'What happens if I poke it?'
That was all it was really, nothing more than a minute prod which caused the collection of oxygen within the waif's body to quiver in a rather interesting manner, however had Simon taken an additional moment to think his actions through he may have realized that Ghost might not appreciate such an intrusion.
He didn't get it at first because he wasn't looking. And it took him longer than she thought it should have. Eventually, though, the degenerate expression honed down into a shrewd and intelligent young man. She was almost more comfortable with his mask of licentiousness. His current face was power hungry? Penetrating?
Something moved inside of her. Literally.
Like he'd taken a fistful of something and shoved it. She took a step back to accommodate this shift and any and all concentration she had for her finger was gone. Luckily her mutation didn't work in a way that her finger would just fall off. The wedges of air that parted the bonds were gone so the finger returned to it's natural state.
"That wasn't an invitation." She took a step and big breath of air to reclaim her lost territory. "You're supposed to be learning to do this yourself."
It was tempting to jab back, but Ghost was being a teacher. And there was no need to shove air down his throat unnecessarily.
Ghost's reaction to his slight intrusion was interesting to say the least, her entire body seemed to jerk as though shocked and her ethereal digit immediately regained its solidarity as the sylph's concentration slipped and she retreated a step, breathing sharply as she attempted to gather her bearings. It was almost as though the waif's breath had been stolen yet Zephyr had been certain he'd done nothing more than give the air within her a slight push, he'd even taken care to avoid overly disrupting the activity in her lungs, which of course begged the question of what could have happened if he hadn't.
'So this is what comes from bonding with your element?' The cynical thought whispered softly in a dark region of the British mercenary's mind as his azure eyes stared curiously at his supposed teacher without truly seeing her. Admittedly Ghost was likely far more perceptible to his influence than others but if this was the effect of only a minor manipulation what could be achieved if he were to focus his attention upon the respiratory system of others? A morbid thought certainly but which could possibly from further investigation... at a later date of course.
"That wasn't an invitation. You're supposed to be learning to do this yourself."[/color]
Blinking away his malevolent machinations Zephyr's cobalt eyes flickered upwards to meet the waifs own honey brown orbs as his mind replayed her words and sought a suitable response. Judging by the ingénues expression she was not overly pleased with his experimentation and was likely expecting some form of apology. However if here being completely honest the hessian was not feeling overly contrite over his behavior. He was here to learn after all and how could be expected to practice something knew if he failed to fully comprehend the theory behind it? Still, it would be best to offer some form or reconciliation.
Making no move to shift his spot against the wall Zephyr instead bowed his slightly before speaking. "My apologies. I was simply curious, I shall be more careful in the future." The words at least were honest for the hessian had not meant to cause the waif any overdue discomfort, however he was not apologizing for his actions but rather the consequences of said actions. It was a subtle difference, but it was one which spoke a good deal about the British mercenary's character.
Raising his head to meet his partners gaze Simon made a half hearted effort to adopt a small penitent smile as he politely asked the Sylph to repeat her demonstration and, after a moments hesitation she complied, once again shifting her digits to a more vaporous form which was only just distinguishable from the surrounding air by a slight difference density. Granted it wasn't much but it allowed to track the girl's performance with greater scrutiny as he quietly asked her to reverse and repeat her transformation multiple times until, after a quarter of an hour, the Kabal felt confident he understood the process enough to attempt to replicate it and held up a hand to signal Ghost to stop.
"I believe I've seen enough to make a first attempt, I'd like you to keep watch in case something goes awry."
Having issued his brief instructions Zephyr's focus shifted to his own arm and forced himself to relax. The last, and first, experience he'd had of 'ghosting' had not been entirely pleasant, being robbed of one's senses never was. However this time the hessian would only be aiming for a partial transformation, which would hopefully mute any discomfort and thus make the experience far more bearable, at least, that was the plan.
Taking a slow breath the hazel haired elemental concentrated on the presence of his hand, studying it's displacement in the air as he slowly flexed. Initially he'd thought to try and alter the degree of air in his own flesh to mirror that of Ghost's however he'd swiftly abandoned such a notion; his body simply wasn't designed to function as Ghost's did, therefore he'd simply have to force his way through the transformation without the added benefit of being only partially solid.
And so instead the hessian closed his eyes and endeavored to recall the sensation of dispersion and unweaving he'd felt when watching Ghost. It had seemed so intuitive when the waif had been doing it, yet now it was akin to compiling a blank puzzle board; possible but incredibly arduous until one learnt the general pattern of the pieces until then it was just a matter of unweaving a single strand at a time from the multitude of physical bonds. The process was agonizing slow but then Zephyr was far more concerned with simply ensuring her performed the technique correctly and so he paid no heed to his overall progress... until he heard something clatter against the hard wood floor.
Sapphire eyes snapped open almost immediately as the hessians concentration broke and he instinctively glanced down at his hand, or at least, where his hand had been; for not only his hand but most of his arm seemed to be missing, up to about his elbow if the fall of his sleeves were any indication. If he looked closely however his eyes could just pick out the slightest shadow of his own arm hovering silently, passing through the collapsed folds of his shirt. It was a surreal moment, to see only a pale imitation replace what had previously been a fully functioning limb and briefly Zephyr felt a rising tide of panic as his thoughts questioned whether or not he'd ever regain his flesh.
Such a thought was thoroughly strangled before it had a chance to take root as Simon reminded himself that this was not an accident, it was merely a practice session, one which he had thus far succeeded in. Taking a deep breath Zephyr directed his thoughts elsewhere as he endeavored to remain calm; first and foremost what had caused him to lose concentration? A swift glance at the floor answered that question easily enough as he spotted his sterling watch lying at his feet. Keen to keep his thoughts elsewhere for another handful of seconds Simon carefully crouched down and retrieved the device with his remaining hand, giving it a cursory examination as he looked for any sign of damage before placing the watch in his pocket and straightening up to his full height.
After taking another glance at what remained of his left arm the azure eyed mercenary released a quiet breath and set to work unbuttoning the cuff of his empty sleeve, he had no intention of taking any chances with this new technique and so would not risk fusing any part of his arm with the cotton of his shirt. Once the sleeve in question had been rolled up out of the way though Zephyr found himself staring at the stump of flesh which remained of his arm, his gaze inexplicably drawn to the fibers of muscle and sinew which were now clearly visible along with pulsing veins carrying his own blood into seemingly thin air and his determination faltered as his skin paled.
"I... I think I may need help restoring my arm."
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."
Stubborn. And as a student, he shouldn't have been calling the shots, especially since fusion was possible and that would cause bodily harm. But stubborn people had to learn on their own terms (usually that meant the hard way) and humility and apologies didn't mean anything until he really meant them.
Ghost performed her small trick over and over again. Changing a small part of herself wasn't as odious as changing her whole self. She could transfer a small piece of herself without loosing anything. At least, it felt more manageable that way and so she didn't mind the repetition.
The moment of truth finally came, though when it was Zephyr's turn to try. A million things could go wrong and so Ghost stood near, but tried not to hover.
The change didn't come from inside and it certainly wasn't smooth, but it was his first time. Eventually his sleeve dangled limp at his side. She couldn't exactly sense where it had gone, but... visually the smokey remnants were close.
It was weird to see it from the other end. The way the arm ended, but didn't. There was still blood transfer, she knew that because no part of her had ever turned black and fallen off after a partial transformation. It did look kind of... creepy, though.
Ghost waved her hand through where she was pretty sure Zephyr's air arm was. Swirled it around a bit like it was cake batter. She wasn't thinking about helping him keep himself together until he asked.
>"I... I think I may need help restoring my arm."
"Right. It took me a long time to get this part down." It always took longer for this part. "May I?" She reached toward the solid part of the stump.
The reverse process wasn't surrender. It was a little like condensation. Pieces pulled together and merged into bigger and bigger sections. Eventually it'd be an arm, whole and feeling.
Most people have seen a video played in reverse at some point in their lives, it always an interesting diversion for images which pass across the eyes both conflict and agree with one's internal logic at varying levels. Watching a waterfall flow against gravity seems unnatural, yet the rolling clouds in the sky above add a quotidian element to the scene making it appear an everyday and completely feasible occurrence which sets the mind at ease to some degree even though logic dictates something is amiss.
Regaining solidarity was nothing like that, in fact had Zephyr been forced to convey the sensation into words he would have found it almost impossible, the closest his mind could manage was to cognate the process to the release of a rubber band which had been stretched to breaking point and then snapped back at a snail's pace; everything began to flow back to its correct position and even though he wasn't looking the hessian could feel his sense of touch and temperature being restored as his arm regained flesh.
The entire reversal took less than a minute but it was still far too long in the mercenary's mind and the moment Ghost released his limb Zephyr immediately raised it to his eyes for inspection, carefully flexing each digit to ensure it had reclaimed its full functionality. Thankfully nothing seemed to be amiss and so Simon allowed himself to relax; shoulders dropping noticeable as he exhaled slowly and lowered his arm and shifted his gaze to Ghost, raising his brow at the silent sylph as he waited for some for some form of critique on his first attempt.
Unfortunately the waifs comments were far from helpful, she kept insisting that he was being too forceful, that the transformation couldn't be forced, but rather was something instinctual which needed to be felt and followed. Such advice as it was had been met with silence from the British elemental who'd barely bothered to hide his skepticism and dissatisfaction with such a response. Surely Ghost had realized by this stage that their mutations, although capable of producing similar results did not function in precisely the same manner? She'd almost said as much before her first demonstration, yet now she was encouraging him to imitate her thought process... it was aggravating.
Truthfully the hazel haired hessian wasn't certain what he'd expected when he agreed to this impromptu practice session, he'd thought it would simply be a matter of memorizing the waif's ethereal shift patterns and then applying them to himself, and while that had to worked to a degree the process hadn't been anywhere near as swift and fluid as the ingénue's own, add to that his inability to reverse the transformation himself and Zephyr would admit he was not entirely pleased with the results of his first attempt. It seemed there was something more to this particular trick but, honestly, "surrender"? "Condensation"? What did she think this was? A comic?
"Thank you but I think I shall try my method once more." The words were not overly cold or acerbic but nor were they particularly amiable, Zephyr's sapphire gaze however was narrow and clearly reflected his recalcitrant frame of mind.
In her mind, she knew that he had to do things his own way. But the only way that she knew how to do it was in her own way. So she tried to urge him down a middle road. Which seemed to make him more and more surly. And obstinate. Basically, the more she tried to help him the more he wanted to stay the same.
"So it's not going fast enough for you? Fine. Sink or swim time."
She was close enough and it was unexpected enough. Ghost put her hands on either side of Zephyr's head, one hand gripping each ear. Then inhaled.
Ghost was gone instantly. And so was Zephyr's head. She didn't push her power dow his body at all. In fact, Ghost was more concerned with keeping everything close in all at once.
"The rest is up to you, but I wouldn't try to pull away unless you want to move to Sleepy Hollow."
Stubborn Zephyr? Meet stubborn Ghost.
It wasn't exactly truthful that his head would sever from his body... she didn't think. But she didn't intend to clean up another dead body any time soon.
Still leaning impassively against the far wall of the room Zephyr crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly in an attempt to make the most of his slight height advantage to stare down at his snow haired instructor as he waited for her response; fully expecting the waif to merely bow her head and back away as he had seen her do so many times before. The sylph seemed to avoid conflict whenever she could and so the hessian saw no need to
It was therefore something of a surprise when the ingénue instead chose to exercise what little spine she possessed; lifting her gaze from the hessians arm to his face and all but glaring at the British elemental as she delivered a waspish retort and raised her arms as though to strike him. Typically in such a situation Zephyr would have sought to avoid such a blow if possible, however with his back to a wall, desks lined up on either side of him and the considerable amount of surprise at the ingénue's behavior the hessian was utterly unable to act in time.
The first time Zephyr experienced an ethereal shift he had been given ample warning, a gradual conversion and, if not directly told what would happen, at least given assurances that nothing ill would befall him. This time no such tocsins or assurances were given; Ghost had simply slapped her hands over his ears and the mercenary's sense of sight, smell , touch and other primary senses abruptly ceased as his head vanished into vapor leaving him with only his spatial awareness and a slightly keener sense of hearing.
The overall effect of a such a rapid partial shift was disconcerting to say the least and had Zephyr not been resting against the wall he likely would have stumbled or even collapsed. As it was the hessians entire body jerked sharply as though shocked as his mind scrambled to deal with the dizzying loss of sensory information, swiftly focusing on what little he could divine from his spatial perceptions as it slowly dawned on him what Ghost had done and a slight shiver of trepidation ran through him.
Zephyr abhorred sensory deprivation, he'd learned that when Ghost had granted him his first ethereal transformation, and back then he had been willing and given suitable forewarning about what was to occur and so had forced had himself to fight his instincts and remain still. Now however the shift had been forced upon him and the azure eyed mercenary made no effort to stay calm as he reflexively began to uncross his arms with the full intention of forcibly removing Ghost from his person...
"The rest is up to you, but I wouldn't try to pull away unless you want to move to Sleepy Hollow."[/color]
Zephyr froze, his hands tensely hovering over the waif's slight wrists as his mind frantically replayed the Sylphs words in search of a teasing tone or callow cadence, anything to indicate the girl was not sincere yet her voice was flat and without his sight the mercenary was unable to search her features, yet he could not bring himself to lower his arms. For although he had no wish to literally lose his head the hessian desperately wanted an end to the sensory void he found himself in.
Seconds passed slowly as the British elemental remained motionless and breathless, silently arguing with himself as he sought a satisfactory course of action until anxiety at last overcame vanity and Zephyr attempted to speak. Without his physical perceptions the simple action felt completely alien but the hessian was able create something akin to his own voice, though it was not nearly as calm as he would have liked and part of him hoped Ghost would attribute it to his inexperience with the ethereal form.
"Let me go... please."
The final word tore at the mercenary's pride for it was an open admission that he was not in control of the situation, yet as much as he detested being under another's thumb he was willing to endure it if it meant he would be released.
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 was the please that caught her attention. Zephyr could say please and thank you until he was blue in the face and it would never, never sound like that hesitation prefaced honesty. Immediately Ghost felt guilty for her rash actions.
She wanted to say as you wish. She wanted to ask if he wanted to try to expand out what she had started. She wanted to ask if he was alright.
She also wanted him to stop being such a baby.
Let him go please? As much as she wanted to reward that please..."Make me." Her whole body was incorporeal. His head felt solid enough under her hands in it's freshly changed incorporeal state, but the rest of him wasn't very useful for harming her insubstantial state.
Many people mistakenly believe that the human body possess only five senses; touch, taste, hearing, sight and smell. While those are what may be termed primary senses they are by no means the limit of sensory input, indeed the human body would hardly be able to function if it were limited to only those five. At the very least one must take into account the senses of spatial perception, balance, pain, temperature, direction, motion as well as internal senses such as hunger and thirst. All are sources of information the human mind comes to rely on from the moment of birth.
To be so suddenly robbed of all but two senses would, understandably, be enough to give anyone a moment's pause, yet for Zephyr it was for some reason much more than that. A portion of it could simply be attributed to an uneasiness of the unknown, of not having access to the all the sensory information he had come to expect throughout his life. A far greater portion however could be explained by the British elementals desire for control and his perceived loss of it at having his body so swiftly shifted against his wishes and held hostage, which when combined with the aforementioned loss of senses was more than enough to cow his naturally hubristic mien and even inspire a sense fear. It was a condition the hessian was willing to do almost anything to end, even beg to a degree.
"Make me."[/color]
If Zephyr's physical expression had been discernable at this point shock would have been clearly painted across it. The mercenary had expected any number of responses; laughter, gloating, guilt, shame but all of them had led to acquiescence of a sort. Such a simple refusal was utterly aberrant and for a moment Zephyr's entire bearing seemed to drop even further as his panic stricken mind came to terms with the sylph's reply.
Fear is a strange thing however, and often difficult to predict, for it is only a knifes edge away from anger and at times all it takes to cross the precipice is the right words, at the right time, to the right mind. For Zephyr the blunt rejection was sufficient to light a spark under his suppressed ego which swiftly blazed into a pyre at the realization that he'd allowed himself to be cowed by a diffident waif with all the courage of a newborn kitten, and so the scales tipped between anger and fear in favour of the former.
Breathing deeply Zephyr's posture straightened considerably as he filled his lungs to capacity and a single word escaped his ethereal lips in an unmistakably malevolent tone. "Fine."
Fuelled by anger, adrenaline and the rush of oxygen from his long overdue breath the mercenary's mind cleared significantly as he focused on the insubstantial presence above his shoulders, and just as before he could detect a slight concentration in the air signifying the existence of his skull. Unlike before however his sense of sight was rendered void and so there was nothing to distract him from the task at hand, nothing to detract from his attentions as he mentally wrested the strands of his insubstantial flesh from Ghost's influence and gradually began to weave them back into solidarity, yet as he did so the British elemental was shocked to find that... well, the only he could think to describe it was that his body wanted to regain its natural form.
It was a stunning revelation which momentarily caused the hessians focus to slip and allowed Ghost to regain the upper hand and unravel everything back down his shoulders. Imbued with his new discovery though Zephyr rapidly brought the situation back under control; no longer having to focus on weaving flesh the mercenary's full attention was brought to bear on removing the sylph's influence and allowing his flesh to instinctively fall back to its proper place.
The entire ethereal battle of tug of war likely lasted less than a minute but in truth Zephyr would never be certain, he recalled the stages in which his senses had returned from neck upwards, beginning with taste, smell and then sight had been accompanied by everything else. The sudden rush of stimulus had dizzied him for a split second but he'd retained control even as a dull ache began to echo and sharpen within his skull. From that point the hessians confidence had surged and a brief burst of power was all that had been required to expel the last of the waif's presence from the tips of his ears.
The incident could have ended there, and had Zephyr been in a forgiving mood it likely would have, however forgiveness was not one of the emotions at the forefront of the mercenary's mind. Instead there was outrage mixed with a slight sense of smug satisfaction which grew slightly as he took things a step further; casting his own influence out over the sylph's insubstantial arms, holding her fast at the same moment his hands clamped down over the same area. Such an action was largely symbolic as there was nothing for his hands to grasp but air, however it helped to focus his thoughts as he attempted to extend his control over the entirety of the girl's ethereal form; intent on fully restraining the insolent ingénue before...
"I'm curious Ghost, just how far can you stretch in that form?"
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."