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.
It was easy to get lost. His lips pressed against her, feeling her slowly and gently begin to yield to her own drive to want to kiss him, it was easy to just lose one’s self in the sensation. Vicente did not want to worry about what she had said, he didn’t care about his real age, or the fact that something had been done to him. All that mattered at this very moment was this very attractive woman who seemed just as into the kiss as she was when they were in the elevator.
Vicente really could not remember the last time he lost himself in the presence of another woman. The closest that he came to it was when with Reaper. Reaper, though, was far more driven by spurring passions rather than tenderness. That was not the say that the assassin didn’t appreciate her, but what he experienced with Megan was far different. In many ways it was far superior.
He pressed closer at her urgings, feeling that gap between them lessen and lessen until it was practically none existent. Her body melted against his and Vicente did not mind it in the least. It was actually quite a pleasant feeling to feel the radiating heat from another warm body so close. But just as the assassin placed his hands against the spider-queen’s hips...the moment evaporated.
A song pierced through the air. An odd song, one that seemed to sap all the enjoyment from the moment out of the room. The kiss ended and Vicente opened his eyes, arching a brow as he turned to find the source of the music. Apparently it came from out in the living room but it was a song that he never heard before. All he knew was that he really, really did not like it. It had to be probably one of the worst songs that he had ever heard. He actually shuddered at the sound of it.
Megan looked surprised by the song, but also a little thankful that there was an interruption. She refused to look him in the eye again and waited until the song was over before she raised that bottle of rum to her lips for another swig.
>> "....Really?"[/color]
Vicente could only shrug. He really, really had no idea what the hell that song was all about. It certainly was not something he ever wanted to listen to again.
>> "...You should probably look for info on your mystery man... right?"[/color]
Vicente turned his attentions back to Megan. She had taken another sip but seemed to no longer be thinking about what had just happened between them. He respected that. Taking the bottle in hand, he took a long sip before he handed it back to her. She had a point. They were here to find…something about what was going on, about his target. Maybe they would find what happened to him at the same time.
He nodded as he slipped of his trench coat, just revealing him in his leather vest and the young, very well toned muscles that were underneath. He sighed as he moved away from her, slowly though, before he tossed his coat over a nearby chair.
“I’ll check down this hall,” was all he said as he turned to leave the kitchen. If Megan didn’t want to talk about things, so be it. He was a patient man and he doubted she would leave it alone for long.
She held back a wave of disappointment, telling herself not to be greedy and pull him back. The counter was cold, the air was a little chilly, and she was a little aggravated that something she had just been starting to enjoy had been killed so quickly.
She made a mental note to track that clock down later, and end it's mechanical existence.
When he turned, stripping his coat off of himself, and left the kitchen, Megan did a very un-megan thing.... She stared after. In fact, she was so concentrated on watching him walk off... that she leaned a little too far out from her perch on the counter and toppled off entirely.
Outside the kitchen, one would have heard a flurry of curse words, a muffled thud, and then Megan stepped out into the living room, tugging her dress back down into place with an obvious look of frustration on her face. A flush of red overtook her cheeks, spanning across her nose and she turned to poke through the living room.
Megan set about ordering her children out of hiding. The fuzzy black arachnids marched to her position, where she crossed her arms across her chest and eyeballed the room she was in. There were plenty of places for paperwork to be hidden and stored... and she didn't really feel much like sorting through all of it by hand. So, she would hand over the task to them, and then lounge around for a while.
"I want you to find any pieces of paper laying around here that smell like him." She pointed a finger back at the kitchen, and waited for them to comprehend what she was talking about. She got the equivalent of spider head tilts, and lots of confused arachnid chattering, until one of them garbled out 'The meat-bag you were mating with?' and she felt her face heat up to a nearly unbearable degree. Swiftly, her hand flashed out and snatched the offending spider off of the wall beside her. She crushed it in her palm, ignoring its panicked little cries, and dropped its body on the floor at her feet.
'NO, Nonononono! BAD! Go find those papers or I will squish the lot of you!' The other arachnids squealed silently in terror, fleeing from their mother as fast as they could, and set about the task they had been given before they were squashed as well. Megan watched them go, face still warm with anger. She leaned up against the back of the couch, enjoying the empty feeling in her stomach that have a few shots in her often caused, and added another to the lot.
A moment later, one of her minions skittered back toward the couch, dragging a paper behind attached to a silken thread. Bending and snatching it up, she took one look at it and sighed. "No... this one is blank. They should have writing on them." Setting it to the side, she watched the spider scurry away, and sighed again. The spiders skittered to and fro, bringing any paper they could find with even insignificant scribbles on it her way... until she got bored of looking at cast aside ads and junk mail. Glancing around, she abandoned her post by the couch and wandered off to find Rafael, and upon finding him, was rather curious as to if he had found anything.... that, and well... getting to stare at his abs again wasn't exactly terrible incentive.
Not long after the assassin had left the kitchen in search of clues for what had happened, he had heard the sounds quick gasp, a hard THUD and a string of curse words. Vicente paused for a second and wondered what had happened but he decided to shrug it off. He had a feeling that if he had…well…he would have only gotten further distracted by Megan.
He didn’t know what it was about her. She was not like the usual women that he had pursued. Megan was very different. She was brash, she was coarse, she didn’t seem like she followed his beliefs, and she was a bald-faced liar! But there was just something about the young lady that was too familiar and made him want to stick around. Maybe it was his confused state, maybe it was simply the fact that she was the first helpful person he has run across since Reaper, but whatever it was…there was definitely an attraction there.
But as much as the assassin wanted to explore that, now was not the time. He needed to find out what happened to him and, possibly, reverse it. But…did he really want to return to the aged body that Megan already claimed that he possessed? He was young again! Strong in body! Maybe Los Lobos was no more and he wouldn’t have to owe them a debt! He could be free of all of this blood…
The assassin sighed as he found himself standing in, what he assumed, his bedroom. He looked at the cold looking bed, furniture, and decorations. None of it was his. He knew that. It was bought simply for appearances sake. It was enough to make the assassin just want to walk out of here but…knew he couldn’t. Something tickled at the back of his head that he had to look for what happened to him. After all…what if what did happen was not permanent.
Still confused as to what he should really do, the assassin turned and began to search. He opened drawers, he peered behind picture frames, the whole works, unfortunately he just was not finding anything that jumped out at him. With a sigh he looked up at the ceiling and spied the fan that sad idle. He followed the patterns on the designs of the blades before an idea suddenly struck him. If he had to find anything here…that would be the place…
>> "....Find anything?"[/color]
He turned spy Megan. How long had she been standing there? Was she staring? He didn’t think too long on it as he shook his head.
“No. But…I have an idea…” He stepped away , out to the kitchen again. Whether he stepped on a spider or two, he didn’t know, he had a mission on his mind now. From the kitchen he grabbed a chair and stormed back into the bedroom where Megan was. Gently he set the chair down underneath the fan and ushered her over. “Come here,” he said in an asking tone. “Hold this chair so I can step up on it.”
When she finally consented to hold the chair still, Vicente stepped up onto the chair and began to feel around the back of the blades of the fan and peered closely at the designs on it. If he hid anything, it had to be here.
But so intent on his search was he, that he didn’t notice just how close his now exposed abs were to Megan’s face. Nope…he didn’t notice it at all. Instead, he actually grinned when he felt his fingers brush exactly what he was looking for…a white enveloped taped to the back of one of the blades…
Blinking she stood and waited as he hurried out of the room, then hurried back in... with a chair.
"..Eh... okay?"
Confusion ran rampant, and she went ahead and followed his directions. WIth her eyes up on the fan above head, one dark eyebrow cocked, she watched him hoist himself up. Then... her eyes wandered down.
She she froze. His body was like... Right There. Directly in front of her face. A blaze of heat lit up her cheeks, blue eyes widened slightly, and she just staaared. Jesus, did he do sit ups ever hour on the hour? She knew that his older self wasn't exactly out of shape, in fact, quite the opposite- if she were one to say. But this was just ridiculous!
After a few seconds, she decided in a rather paranoid fashion that he had done it on purpose. A small smirk curved her lips, and she narrowed her eyes. (not caring in the least to remove them from the god-like abs before her, mind you. Seriously, what sane woman would?) What was the best way to turn an awkward situation around on someone? Make it more awkward for them, than it was for you. Her smirk shifted to a devious grin, and she leaned in and planted a wet kiss straight onto his exposed belly-button.
Really, she had no idea how he would react... but, considering his willingness in their previous kiss fest she hardly expected a knee in the nose, and thus considered it safe. "What's in the envelope? SHe questioned, after gulping down both a bark of laughter at her own action, and a wave of flustered-ness that came with having someone well built standing right before you, flaunting it.
She managed to act like she had done nothing out of ordinary, and lifted her eyes back up to him, and the slim white package that promised answers. She was, however, unable to wipe the smirk from her lips.
Vicente cursed how well he had taped the envelope to the back of the blade of the ceiling fan. He barely managed to get his fingers along the edge of the slip of paper and started to peel it off but it was taped rather strongly. The assassin sighed as he placed his foot on the back of the chair, trying not to kick Megan as she kept his stand stable, and attempted to lean as far as he could to get a better grip on the envelope.
His fingers caught it and pulled it off. The blade of the fan and the tape protested but Vicente proved to be successful as he managed to release the envelope from its scotch-taped prison. He knew that this had to be it. If there was any place in this apartment that he would have hidden information about a target, or anything that pointed at all to himself, he would have hidden it in as out of the way a place as possible. The fan blade seemed like the most logical place for that.
Still standing on the chair, Vicente turned the envelope over in his hands and untucked the flap in order to get a peek at its contents. He could see the glossy form of a photograph along with some handwritten notes on paper. But before he could so much as try to open it, the oddest sensation was pressed against his well-toned abs.
Vicente tilted his gaze down and found Megan, looking up at him with the silliest smirk on her lips. Had she…Did she really just kiss his abs? He began to wonder if just maybe the young spider-queen had had enough to drink but Vicente could only smirk down at her.
So…she wanted to play this game…he could more than oblige…
>> "What's in the envelope?”[/color]
“Information,” Vicente said as he climbed down off the chair.
In doing so, he watched Megan closely. She was such a loose cannon that he really was not sure how to treat the woman. She earned his trust from the beginning with her story, then all of sudden she admits, little by little, how things are not true, and yet she still had an allure about her. He simply didn’t know if it was her looks, his confusion, or what. All he knew was that their little display in the elevator had opened a door that…part of him really did not want to close. And judging by her little action back there while he was on chair, neither did she.
Envelope still in hand, Vicente stepped towards Megan. He was dangerously close now. His massive frame dwarfed her own. But, standing there, he leaned down, gently looking as if he was coming in for another kiss. Closer and closer he pressed, warm breath sliding across her skin, free hand reaching down and out of her line of sight. It truly looked as if the assassin were just about to attempt to seduce the young woman further.
But just as he leaned in, his hand brushing against her dress-clad hip, Vicente instead took (gently) the bottle of rum that she still had in her hand. Carefully he removed it from her hand as he straightened up and took a long sip of the alcohol. He probably shouldn’t drink this much, especially not with Megan around, but Vicente was no lightweight. He could more than likely drink Megan under the table and she looked as if she could out drink a sailor!
Such fears, though, did not win in his confused mind. Instead, after he took his long draught, he handed the bottle back to her. He grinned a toothy grin, but Vicente did not advance beyond that. He looked just as innocent as Megan did when she kissed his stomach.
“You should be careful with that rum,” he said. “It’ll back a punch when you least expect it.” He turned as he opened the envelope in hand and pulled a photograph from the inside. His eyes narrowed as he sat at the edge of his bed and looked closely at the picture before he waved Megan over. When she got closer, he turned the picture over to show her. “Megan, does this kid look familiar to you?”
The smirk on her lips faded slightly, as her target stepped down from his chair and invaded her bubble again. Her heart beat sped up a little, but this time she managed to keep her face from turning bright red. He was so close that she really expected more kissing, or...something. She even let her eyes slip closed a little, expecting warm lips and strong arms.
...But definitely not him stealing her rum away from her... again!
Blinking, she stood there, head tilted slightly in confusion, as it slowly registered that he was enjoying the rum, and she was not enjoying anything. Her lips drew out into a thin little, unimpressed line, and she snorted softly, crossing her arms over her chest. Okay... he had gotten her that time.
“You should be careful with that rum, It’ll pack a punch when you least expect it.”
The giggle she responded with should have been more than enough proof to his statement. She could handle her alcohol alright, and she really didn't mind much being a little too intoxicated. Generally, the less she felt the better. In fact, even as she watched him, while he turned and plopped down onto the bed, she was feeling less and less awkward. She probably had the bottle he had given back to her to thank for that, rather than simply acclimatizing to the situation. But either way, it was very much appreciated... Thoughts of the past dimmed and faded, fears and worries here properly buried. She stepped forward, leaning in slightly to look at the picture he showed her, before plucking it from his grasp to get a better look.
Circling around to him, so she could claim a seat for herself, she set the bottle down beside the bed and stared at the kid in the photograph. It had been dark enough that she hadn't really seen a lot of his features. She didn't know if the guy she had seen had been wearing glasses for not, but... considering that the fast moving shadow hadn't exactly been the size of a man..., she could guess that the kid was their culprit. "...I don't know for sure... He was running too fast, and it was a little too dark for me to really see clearly..."
She tried to recall all of the information her children had given her before they had left the warehouse. The kid had been running erratically, sticking to shadows... he had been crying, if she could decipher 'It's leaking water and making annoying grunting sounds' as spider lingo for tears and distress. "From what my kids told me.. it sounds like this is probably the kid though... Does any of that paperwork say how he could have magicked you into this?" She handed the photo back, her mind temporarily off of more intimate things, and leaned back on her arms. Through half lidded eyes, as she was enjoying the fluttery feeling of being pleasantly tipsy (or so she thought), she watched him.
"...How old are you?" She asked suddenly, more or less out of the blue. She couldn't help but wonder. The gap between his present self and his older self was pretty wide.
Her fingers brushed against one of the pillows on the bed, and she turned her chin, looking over to it lazily. Blue eyes blinked, and a little smirk returned to it's home on her lips. A little idea hatched in her mind, and she hooked her fingers around the corner of that pillow. Eyes slowly turning back around to Rafael, while she fixed the most innocent expression she could manage on her face. Without warning, she turned and sent the pillow flying toward him, while crawling up onto the bed on her knees for better leverage.
Megan had taken another sip from the bottle of rum and slowly made her way around to view the photo that he was showing her. As she snatched it up, Vicente returned to the rest of the contents of the envelope. He knew himself too well though. He knew that there would not be a lot in there, only a few scattered notes but nothing that really pertained to why he was after this kid or who he was working for. If he had survived to an old age, as Megan said, they he certainly knew how hide information.
Unfortunately that would not be a whole lot of help with him today. He needed information as to what had happened to him, not vague clues that would end up leading no where.
He pulled out a only two sheets, papers of handwritten notes that he himself had taken. Obviously these were observations of his own, while he was hunting, and some quick, encrypted messages. Those must have been from his boss who had called in the hit.
But why would he want a little boy killed? Not that Vicente really had a conscious for that sort of thing, an order was an order however distasteful he felt the target was, but there had to be a reason. Normally a hit like this would be because the kid was the child of someone important? But a glance at his notes seemed to provide little information.
Megan, meanwhile, had plopped down next to him on the bed and looked the picture over…
>> "...I don't know for sure... He was running too fast, and it was a little too dark for me to really see clearly...From what my kids told me.. it sounds like this is probably the kid though... Does any of that paperwork say how he could have magicked you into this?" [/color]
He shook his head.
“No,” he responded. “I know better than to leave too easy of a trail to follow. But they do have spots written down where the kid usually haunts. Judging by them, I probably have been following him for a week now.”
He sighed. Well, at least they had a list of places that they could look now. The top of the lists was the docks, exactly where he had been when he stumbled across Megan. He must have been there to capture the kid but something ended up happening. Maybe the boy was blessed by the god’s as well but what possibly gifts did he have? Megan said that he was supposed to be older.
>> "...How old are you?"[/color]
“Huh?” he asked with a quick glance. “Well…that’s a good question. Last I remember…well…I thought I was 26. I don’t know how old you know me as, though,” he replied as he turned back to the paperwork.
But before he could get too far into it, suddenly he felt a movement on the bed. The weight shifted, he felt the mattress give in odd placed and, he turned to suddenly find his vision with that of a fluffy, white pillow descending upon him.
“What the--?!”
THWAP!!
He was buffeted, hard, with the pillow, and Vicente dropped the envelope and papers onto the ground in order to catch it. When he lowered the pillow from his face he found Megan, on her knees just grinning at him. Watching her, he actually wanted to smirk. It just seemed like such an off the wall move right now but part of him of thinking that just maybe it was the alcohol in her system. Then again, maybe she was just attracted to him and was not ready to just let those feelings go? Whatever the case he grinned as he stood up, still clutching the pillow in his hands.
“You know,” he grinned as he moved around to the side of the bed and stood there, locking eyes with her. “You shouldn’t pick a fight with an assassin. Especially with a pillow…”
She tried to do the math in her head, while waiting for him to react, and failed terribly. Things were moving too fast in there, all of her thoughts packed close together, like a bunch of clowns in a tiny car. Had she the time, she would have attempted to subtract his current age from what she thought he had been before.
When he caught the pillow, she scrambled across the bed and snatched up another, climbing to her feet a little unsteadily on the mattress. "Unless you beat your marks to death with pillows on a regular basis, I shouldn't have much to fear... no? ...Besides... the whole assassin thing only works on people who fear death..."
The images her own statement brought to mind pulled a few quiet, giddy giggles from her, and she hefted her own fluffy weapon up at her side like a sack slung over her shoulder. "...and I was getting bored anyway!"
Kicking her shoes off, she stepped toward him and swung. She didn't have to remind herself to swing gently either, because the fluttering in her stomach spread a little and she couldn't have put her full strength into it if she had tried. Still, it felt glorious. And she truly didn't care that she was attempting to swat a trained killer around the head with a pillow, while try to dodge like mad.
It was too much fun just letting go, something she honestly missed from when she had first moved to New York. The feeling of ripping down a side street, well over the speed limit. Like when she had met Meld after a poor attempt to steal a spider from a museum. She laughed again, a little bit louder and hopped off the bed, intending to circle around and close in on him...
...But caught her foot on the edge of the bed as she moved.. and instead, she more of fell into him. Her pillow landed on the floor a little ways away, ruining her plan of attack entirely... but she continued laughing. The alcohol in her system helped her to not care about the closeness, while she grinned up at him.
>> "Unless you beat your marks to death with pillows on a regular basis, I shouldn't have much to fear... no? ...Besides... the whole assassin thing only works on people who fear death...and I was getting bored anyway!"[/color]
Vicente smirked as the young woman armed herself with another pillow and swung at him again. The assassin chuckled as he dodged and watched as she managed to scoot herself off the bed. She looked ready for battle and, though Vicente knew that he had more pressing matters in mind, he really could not focus on them at the moment. There was really just something infectious about being around Megan. Brash, crude, but she had a livelihood about her that he had not see in all his years working for Los Lobos. Los Lobos knew how to kill dreams.
Maybe that is all this was. Maybe it was a second chance. If he was as old as Megan apparently thought he was, then maybe he had shed enough blood. Maybe, just maybe, the gods were going to actually grant him a second chance of reclaiming everything that he had lost. It was a long shot, but a man could not bath in blood for the entirety of his life and not had some sort of redemption waiting for him…right?
But Vicente could not get lost in these thoughts right now. There was just absolutely too much going on in his head that if he had to cram just one more thing, then he was going to lose it. His mind was a humming beehive of activity…he needed to get used to things.
Then Megan circled around, trying to get the drop on him with her armed pillow. But just as she dashed around the bed in order to try and deliver a powerful strike, something happened. Her breath caught, her body lurched, and suddenly she went tumbling…directly into him.
Vicente chuckled, heartily as he watched the woman stumble and caught her nimbly in his powerful arms. She practically weighed nothing to him so it was easy to hold her up without feeling any of the strain. Disarmed of her pillow, the assassin loomed over her as he held her tightly, not wanting to drop her after her most heinous fall.
Then she looked up at him with her deep blue eyes…
>> "Hiya... Mercy for the unarmed one?"[/color]
He grinned as he placed his hands at her waist and very slowly began to lean down. This time he did not feign away, he didn’t steal any alcohol, or did he lord over her with a sense of superiority. Instead he leaned down, lips brushing against her cheek, and spoke in his deep, almost voice…
“There is no mercy,’ he said with a grin as he turned her head and very softly kissed her once again on the lips. It was warm kiss, far tender than the kiss the assassin had managed to give her before. Instantly he felt his body reacting to her lips, the rush of his heart, the warmth that flushed across his features, it was a sensation that he did not want to stop as he gently held the much smaller woman.
But just as their kiss went on, a clock radio, the same one from before, chimed another passage of time and blared out another piece of music that Vicente had no idea what to call. The assassin actually stopped kissing Megan to straighten up and turn towards the clock radio that blared the offense “music”.
“What…the hell is that…?” he asked with a disgusted growl…
For the second time in one night, a damned machine ruined a good kiss. A really good kiss. She had actually wobbled a little bit, from the combined force of his words and the sincerity in his lips against hers.
There would be no mercy.
"It's dead, that's what it is..."
Muttering every cuss word imaginable under her breath, she pried herself away from him, marched across the room to where the offending clock sat- mocking the both of them with it's terrible taste in music, and yanked the cord from the wall. She thought about just stopping there, but considering it was the second time it had ruined a moment for her, a very rare moment, she picked it up and stomped from the room.
A moment later, after waltzing into the bathroom and tossing the clock in the toilet, she slammed the door shut and marched back across the room. Her features set in a very determined manner, Megan didn't bother going around the bed- instead choosing to walk on it. "There... problem solved."
Her impatiens shined through the haze of being barely drunk, and she stopped before him, helped with the height of the bed to better access his lips. Her fingers caught the collar of his vest, pulling him toward her, and then her arms looped around his neck and she leaned in and kissed him just as he had been kissing her... before the nasty interruption.
Silently, she called her spiders to march down the hall and close the bedroom door. Since most had already been there, curiously spying on the whole exchange, it was an easy feat to accomplish. They simply lined up, attached silken lines from their spinnerets, and pulled until the door swung gently closed.
With both the clock and her spying spiders out of the way, she chose to simply fall back into the sway of things, and let herself go again. It had been much too easy to give up things like this, bodily contact and all, but right now- in the moment she had stolen.
.... And by god, if anything else bothered her, she was going to go on a rampage.
Vicente was still trying to wrap his head around how whatever that sound was could at all be attributed to music. It was sickening and sounded as if it were sung by a group of castrati. Had so many years passed and what he considered to be decent music had truly been evaporated so that all that was left was this? That thought alone would have been rather depressing for the young assassin…if it were not for the rather attractive young woman that was being held in his arms.
>> "It's dead, that's what it is..." [/color]
He smirked as Megan tore herself free from him and marched resolutely towards the offense clock that continued to ring so loud and obnoxiously. Picking it up with her hand, he watched as she stormed away into the bathroom.
SPLASH!
THUNK[/b]
Megan returned and he could only grin at what she had done. The clock radio was in its watery grave, the music had stopped, and now Megan was beelining it directly to him. The assassin chuckled as he watched the young spider queen stepped up, onto his bed, walked over.
>> "There... problem solved." [/color]
She sauntered and there was little that Vicente could do other than to watch her curves that were accentuated by the dress that she wore. She moved across the bed until stood directly in front of him. A sly grin crept across his face as he was now on eyelevel with her. Her fingers curled around his vest and pulled him closer to her, while in the background he caught the movement of his bathroom door closing due to some invisible means. But this was no time to ponder on that now. Before he knew it, lips met his and arms twined around his neck and that immediately pulled his attention.
A chuckle fell between kisses as he lost himself in the presence of this woman. No worries about his age, about what had happened to him, or what exactly was going on, dared to invade his mind. Instead, Vicente solely focused on here and now.
Whatever would happen, would happen. But right now, in the back of his mind, Vicente only heard himself whispering through the fog...
Her kiss spiraled into something deeper. Unbeknownst to Megan, she was tapping into the hidden part of herself. The part only one other person had ever seen... which, of course, had been a terrible mistake.
But at the moment, while hungrily stealing kisses away from a more or less perfect stranger, she didn't give a sh*t. With the amount of attention she was placing on the outside world growing smaller and smaller, she focused solely on him, on his lips, his shoulders, his hair, and all of the attention he was focusing her way. It was like there was a fire inside her, fueling the desire to explore more, to go further.. To take as much from him as she could, before it was over.
The emotions brewing insider were overwhelming, enough so that she could feel herself shaking in his arms. She didn't want to stop. She didn't want to give herself time to think on her own actions, on what she was doing. Megan melted against him, her knees buckling from under her. She dragged him down with, absolutely refusing to let go, and it wasn't until it registered in the still coherent corner of her mind that things were getting heavy and she had just pulled him down on top of her, that she was completely new to such things.
She didn't freeze like the last time, thankfully. The less embarrassment the better.. but she did break her feverish string of marathon kisses long enough to actually look him in the eye. However sheepishly.
Panting slightly, her cheeks rosy and warm, she placed against his chest and gulped. Her nerves were back, running little electric fingers up her spine. She couldn't manage a grin, or a smirk... or anything. "...I..."
She blinked, icy eyes clouded over slightly, and let a breath out slowly, trying to calm herself. "...I've never done this before... so..."
The annoying flustered feeling came back, and she felt her face heat up even more. God, she didn't want to stop... not really. But she was at such a loss as to what to do that it was ridiculous! Cursing inwardly, she fell back into a pattern of finding everything else in the room vastly interesting.
The flames that burned within the pit of his stomach had raged into a wildfire that consumed him from the inside out. It had been a long time since Vicente could remember feeling this free and this uncaring for the world around him. All his problems had evaporated as he simply allowed himself to finally let go of every issue that he had with the world and focused entirely on the present.
The beautiful woman in his arms, the sense of freedom that hastened the beating of his heart, the lips that he simply could not pry himself away from; all of it served only to keep him in the moment. Vicente did not want to worry about what happened to him, or what age he was supposed to be, or why he was seeking out that kid, or even who he worked for. Right now, at this moment, the only thing that the assassin cared about was quenching the fire that he could feel warming up his skin.
All sense of the world around melted away as he felt that suddenly he was no longer standing. Instead muscular assassin was now lying down with this woman, amongst the disheveled, fluffy white sheets of a bed bought by a man that was apparently completely different than the one he was now. The thought momentarily skittered across his mind and he wondered just what type of man he had actually turned into? What had a lifetime of killing for a living done to him?
Vicente thought back. The only reason he was pulled into this line of work was because his father, his entire family, was threatened by the Los Lobos cartel. At twenty he gave up his chance at having a regular life in order to keep them all safe and bastardized the teachings his proud, Aztec-worshipping father had painstakingly given to him. But if Vicente hadn’t, he would have died long ago and his family would have suffered because of it. The assassin had done what was required of him; and what was required of him was giving up his soul and future for the lives of others.
And yet…here he was, again, in his twenties and given a second chance to feel and to actually enjoy life. The hungry kisses from his partner had pulled the assassin back to reality and buried his thoughts. He smirked as his returned to those lovely lips, but soon, Megan stopped. Her eyes were still willing to go on but something had caused her to pause. Confused, Vicente just looked down at her, reaching up and stroking her cheek, wondering what had caused this change.
>> "...I... I've never done this before... so..." [/color]
A flush of embarrassed shaded her cheeks a shade of crimson. While at first Vicente wanted to believe that maybe she was just lying to him again, playing on of her games, one look at her threw all thoughts of that out the window. The color of her skin, the way she avoided looking directly at him, the nervous shutter that coursed throughout, all of it was evidence that proved her words. And Vicente could only lie there, watching her.
Though it seemed impossible considering the man’s past, and whatever she knew about his older persona, a look appeared on his face that was completely different from anything she might have known. It was a look of understanding…but also a look that conveyed that she did not need to feel so embarrassed.
Gently, he turned her face so that their eyes locked again. Dark brown looked into deep blue, as he leaned down and kissed her more tenderly, more slowly. No words really needed to be said. With each motion, a sense emanated that everything was going to be okay. He shouldn’t have to worry about someone he had become, and she didn’t need to feel embarrassed. The both of them just needed to let everything go…