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Gina was not going to take Vanessa’s relentless teasing and flirting without a fight, and her fighting consisted of implied kisses. That was not the return-fire Vanessa was expecting. A few “ums” escaped her as she tried to think of a good comeback, but Gina’s wings made contact with the water, causing the first noticeable reaction Gina had toward the cold. Vanessa wondered if her mutation made her more prepared for the cold. Or the heat. Really, she was curious about many of the practical ways Gina’s mutation affected everyday life beyond awesome wings and a custom color palette. Regardless, the “brr” took some pressure away from her need for a reply. Her eyes were definitely taking more frequent trips to Gina’s lips, though.

Vanessa was embracing the soothing salt water on her skin, but Gina had her own preferences that were hard to argue with. ”That sounds amazing. I’m not even ashamed to say I’m so jealous. It must be amazing to just move freely though the air,” she said dreamily. Telepathy had near unlimited usefulness, but it was hard not to consider trading it away for the ability to soar through the air.

Her mental departure into the clouds was cut short when Gina tugged at her hand, giving her a warning. Heads up? It took a moment for the reason to sink in, with Vanessa turning inquisitively in the direction of the ocean. She had just enough time to turn her head away and brace for the wave as it washed over her body. The force of the water was enough to shove her forward and into Gina.

There were a few seconds of sputtering and laughing as Vanessa tried to regain her footing under the water. She still had Gina’s hands; her friend could not swim, so the last thing Vanessa wanted was to see her friend swept away. As she straightened them both up, her hand grabbed Gina’s waist to stabilize them. ”S-sorry, I forgot the universal rule: the ocean can be a d***.”

She pulled her hand away (after letting it linger on Gina’s waist a moment longer than necessary,) brushing away the wet hair plastered to her forehead and cheeks. ”Look on the bright side? Now we can sunbathe and nap to dry off?” Her dip in the ocean was refreshing, but it would be complimented best by soaking up some sun on the blanket that was calling out to them.

There was so much to enjoy about Skye, up to and including the little wiggle of her body as she adjusted herself. She had a point; they both had their reputations. That was fine by Paige. Her life might have been devoid of emotional intimacy, but she let the physical intimacy and love flow freely. She wanted to live as much life as she could fit into any given night, and for her, sex was just one of the best parts of life. If her “reputation” allowed other girls to be less shy around her, why fight it?

She never had to worry about shyness from Skye, of course. The offer was now on the table for a post-work entanglement, and Paige could think of few better ways to spend her night than in bed with Skye. (A table would be a great place, too, she mused to herself.) ”I mean, if a newbie would like to get involved, far be it for me to be selfish,” she thought aloud, winking as she added, ”As I said before: I’m a sharer.” And there was a whole lot of Skye to share.

As Paige donned her own pink brassiere, Skye listed off some of the priorities on her shopping wishlist. The girl was a known gambler, so her sudden need to spend was likely coming off the backend of a big win. It was a dangerous endeavor to go gambling with Skye, because she hit the tables hard, and Paige was prone to following her friends headfirst into trouble without Ambrosia. On the stuff, she could risk putting her rent money on the line without much thought.

Thankfully, shopping was a safer prospect. The list was mostly tame, with one notable exception: the corset. She probably did want it anyway, but Paige wondered if she was using it as a hook to get her attention. If so, it was a smart choice.

The notion of lunch at a bistro was pleasant, but it felt outside of Paige’s skillset. Shopping was shallow, easy fun. Partying was sleazy, slutty, easy fun. Lunch was something normal friends did, and Paige’s life was conspicuously absent when it came to those. The notion fell outside of her comfort zone where she could keep everyone in her life at an arm’s length.

But it was Skye. If she did have a closest friend, the busty woman with the dyed blue hair was it. She wanted to spend time with Paige, and declining lunch could prove difficult. Skye could be… well, very persuasive. And it was just one lunch. Where was the harm in a free meal with her friend?

She took a moment to mull it over, but eventually ended the suspense. ”Hmm… okay, okay. Honestly, you had me at ‘underbust corset.’ I was a goner.”

Paige teased her hair to give some more volume to the waves. ”If we’re going shopping, I’m going to have to really go all out on the stage. Maybe we can double up at some point,” she suggested playfully before turning her mischievous gaze back to Skye. ”That is… if you could handle it.” Her fingers trailed from her hair down her neck and continued lower til they found a comfortable resting place. She did have to be careful at some point, though; Paige was not sure what kind of reprimand they would receive if they actually just had sex on stage.

But the tips, though…

Some clubs in the city allowed girls to pay a small stage fee to work, but the Pearl Lounge only allowed dancers they employed outright. The standards for entry were high. The girls had to be skilled dancers, sociable conversationalists, and mutants. Paige filled two of the three requirements, but the owner of the establishment surprised her by keeping her on. It would have been a kind gesture if the condition of her employment hinged on her addiction to a dangerous drug that was literally killing her.

Still, she had gone from being a freelance dancer to a true regular with a home club, which meant Paige was well acquainted with the other girls working alongside her. (Sometimes closely alongside her.) Of her coworkers, Skye was always a treat to work around. At a glance, it was clear the woman was hot as all hell, with the kind of chest that gave Paige palpitations. Working in such a shallow industry, looks were always going to be noticed first and foremost.

Past her “Page Three” looks, Skye was a joy to work with, and one of the girls she did her best to drag out for a night of partying when possible. Outside of work she was so genuine, which was refreshing. On and off the job, she was a master flirt, which Paige also found to be a fun recreational activity. Their friendship was comprised of plenty of compliments and teasing.

Which was not to say the had not slept together yet. On the contrary, with Skye’s mutation, she had a habit of getting… riled up. When that happened, she needed an outlet to expend “her lust,” and there were a few girls on the staff willing to oblige. Paige was decidedly a member of that camp, because she had never been one to turn down sex with a bombshell.

Luckily, things never got awkward because they were not an “office romance.” Sex was sex, and Paige was good at separating the physical and emotional. Having a friend with occasional benefits suited her lifestyle far better than a love interest because it meant less commitment and less vulnerability.

At the compliment, Paige cupped her prized attributes, feeling the cool metal on her palms. ”I like to think I’m pulling off ‘girl next door with a secret wild side.’ It’s not an easy archetype, but I’m just that good,” she joked, releasing the girls to grab her makeup kit from the counter.

In the corner of her vision, Paige saw her friend’s body relax. She was getting better at noticing the small signs that suggested her power was taking effect. It was satisfying, and if Skye was fine working with a small, artificial buzz, Paige was happy to be her fix.

”I’m more than good with giving you a shot of Sherri to relax you before you head out there,” she assured Skye, giving her friend’s bottom a small squeeze. Of course, the intoxicating effects would not fix Skye’s overarching program if she was going to be putting out pheromones all night. She was not actively using her power, (because Paige was not trying to mount her yet,) but the work night was only beginning. ”I don’t know how you survive it sometimes. If I was running on Lust all night, I’d worry I might just pull some guy into a back room halfway through the shift.”

As she fixed up her blush, Paige looked at Skye’s reflection in a mirror. Was she going to need some help once work ended? Paige was not lacking in potential partners, but there was an undeniable difference when Skye’s powers were in play. She tucked the thought away, thinking it might be useful later on…

The Ambrosia never took long to kick in. It was one of the first things she took care of when she arrived at the club. It was her own cost of entry, but by the time she strolled through the doors with the fading light of dusk at her back, she was hoping for a fix anyway.

She was not on Ambrosia daily, because what kind of dancer worked all week? It was a perk of the job for her. Three or four nights of good work would keep her funds steady with some play-money in her pocket. She might buy a dose of Ambrosia during the weekdays to tide her over for a night on the town, but Ambrosia was an expensive habit when work was not providing it. Those nights, she had to make due with booze and whatever else she might get her hands on.

Paige felt her whole body relax, followed by her thoughts. It just felt so good to be clouded. A pleasant smile formed on her painted lips and she was ready to prepare for the night.

The changing room behind the main stage was only occupied by a handful of dancers. The floor would not start filling up for another hour or so, giving Sherri the chance to get out there and get a feel for the stage and the pole. She was better acquainted with the pole than she was with most people, but it was never a bad idea to get a quick warm up dance out of the way.

Paige found a spot at the mirror and set her bag down to get to work shedding her street persona and redressing herself as Sherri. Her day clothes were the first things to go, being set aside in a neat pile and topped with her non-work undergarments. Only dancers and management had access to the room, and even if that was not the case, Paige was not exactly shy about her body.

She took a moment to admire her tan complexion in the mirror before she started working to become a vision in pink lace. She had pulled on her bottoms and was working on her stockings and garter belt when she spoke the girl at the station next to her. ”Fridays are such an ego boost. People get their paychecks, and their first priority is to throw them at our t**s. These girls are more important than food to some of them,” she thought aloud, looking down at her bare chest.

Then her eyes traveled over to the woman to the woman she was talking to, realizing who had snagged the spot next to her. ”…Yours might out-prioritize rent.”

Individual


Character's full name: Paige Michaela Bookman

Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Sherri

Gender: Female

Age: 24

Date of Birth: 10/15/1992

Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: New York City, New York

Nationality: American

Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: Caucasian/Irish Mix

Appearance

Hair color and style: Light brown and shoulder length, lightens in the sun

Skin Tone: Fair, but tans easily

Eye Color: Hazel

Height: 6’1”

Build: Slender and toned with killer curves that suit her on the dance stage

Visible mutation: None

Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Basic ear piercings, a bellybutton ring, and two other work-related piercings

Other features: None

Everyday clothing style: Paige likes to experiment with fashion and new looks, and is never shy about showing skin with bare midriffs, off-the-shoulder tops, and short skirts and cut-offs.

Uniform: Not. Much.

Sleepwear: Either nothing or an oversized t-shirt

Miscellaneous clothing: N/A

Character

Personality: Paige prioritizes chasing what feels good, which can lead to self-destructive behavior. She keeps most emotions on the surface level, where she shines putting on a show for the people around her. She can charm and flirt, seeking to enjoy herself whenever she can with whoever catches her eye. If you’re looking for someone to party with until dawn or to take a late-night trip up to Canada, she’s your girl. Foot the bill, and she’s down for almost anything.

People rarely get close enough to Paige to earn her full honesty. Lies and half-truths made life easier, particularly when one’s goal was to get what they wanted. Reality and Paige have never been on good terms, and the more lies in her life, the more distance she could put between them.

Away from the people and the lights and the music, Paige is left with her thoughts. Being alone means questioning the path she was choosing to go down, and wondering if Booker would have been disappointed in the way she was cutting her off from living her life. The aftereffects of her Ambrosia-use begins to kick in when she returns home from the club, which results in hangover-like symptoms and the loss of its mood-altering effects. Knowing her return home could potentially lead into a depressive episode, Paige finds it best to just avoid going home whenever possible.

Hobbies/ Interests: Dancing, Drawing, Fashion, Yoga, Women, Men, Partying, Risk-Taking

Job or part time job and description: Exotic Dancer at Atlantis

Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Paige is worried about being cut off from Ambrosia for good and the effects it could have on her after how long she’s been using it.

Also, Anatidaephobia. Ever since Booker explained his fear that a duck somewhere in the world was watching him, the idea of the nefarious duck stayed with her long after Booker was gone.

Special talents: Paige is a skilled dancer casually and professionally. No one knows it, but Paige is a talented artist.

Morality

Neutral; Paige is a selfish hedonist, but she does not seek out to do ill unto others. She wants to be allowed to make her own choices with whoever else is willing to risk being caught in her collateral damage.

Mutations

Paige is a human, but as an active user of Ambrosia, she does have a temporary mutation while under the influence.

Inebriation Aura. Being around Paige has an effect on someone similar to drinking alcohol. After ten to fifteen seconds within her zone of influence, a person’s mood will begin to feel altered and their muscles will start to loosen up, with messages being delivered from their nerves to their brain more slowly. From there, the effect slowly scales up. Being around Paige for an hour would be similar to drinking two or three cocktails. After three hours, the effects are comparable to five or six drinks. Six or more hours can start to push into dangerous territory, being comparable to a night of heavy binge drinking, including sickness, headaches, inability to think or move effectively, and loss of consciousness. (Actual drinking stacks onto the effects of Paige’s powers.)

It is important to note that Paige’s powers inflict the symptoms and effects of alcohol, but do not add alcohol into a person’s system. A person who stays sober but spends hours with her would seem clearly drunk with a point-zero blood alcohol level.

While Paige is on Ambrosia, the Aura has a minor effect on her, resulting in an ever-present buzz. Her motor functions are not noticeably impacted, but her mood and decision-making are now set to a permanently-tipsy level.

Strengths: Plenty of people enjoy the effects of alcohol, and Paige is literally intoxicating. Being in her presence for any period of time often makes people more amicable, lowering their inhibitions. This effect is a boon for her on the job, or on a typical night out on the town.

Since Paige’s powers simulate alcohol but do not put alcohol in someone’s system, a person with a “high alcohol tolerance” or “strong constitution” would be effected the same way a light-weight would.

Weaknesses and Limitations: Paige’s field of effect is only a ten-foot radius. When people walk out of her field, the effects of her power fade in relation to the amount of time spent near her. If someone was near her for a few minutes, it could take a minute or two for the effects to wear off. If someone was spending the better part of several hours near Paige, the effects can take an hour or two to fade away. Most people do not spend hours at Paige’s side, (and most who do would not mind her effects.)

The effect is always on as long as Ambrosia is still in Paige’s system. This encourages reckless decision making, which is only exacerbated by her personality. She also has to be careful about sleeping next to people if the Ambrosia has not worn off, because the powers will persist through sleep. Several hours of sleeping next to an Ambrosia’d-up Paige would result in the serious negative effects of binge drinking.

Since Paige has been using Ambrosia consistently and for an extended period, the degradation of her genetics is taking effect slowly in various ways. Her long term-memory, immune system, and her vision are becoming more unreliable, with the latter pushing her to the point where she wears contacts while working and glasses off-stage. She also struggles with bouts of numbness and pain in her hands and feet which are actually the beginning stages of peripheral neuropathy.

The dosage of Ambrosia Paige takes before work usually lasts somewhere between eight to twelve hours—enough to cover her shift, and occasionally a little extra play time.

Physical Abilities

General Physical Capabilities: Strength- Typical for a woman her size who engages in yoga, jogs, and dances. (Fun fact: pole dancing is an incredibly effective method of exercise.)

Speed- A little quicker than the average twenty-something, but she is by no means a runner

Reflexes- Her average reflexes are often impaired by either the effects of alcohol or Ambrosia.

Stamina- High stamina from dancing night in and night out (and enduring the curse that is working in heels)

Flexibility- Incredibly flexible, as can be seen in yoga and… other things

Fighting Style: She will spray you with mace

Fighting Style Pros/Cons: Pro: Mace hurts people's faces

Con: Mace might hurt her face if the wind blows. Also, without mace, she has no real fighting skill and would have to rely on flailing wildly, so anyone who was physically stronger and had the most basic understanding of fighting would dismantle her easily.


History Of Your Character

Paige was born as the daughter of Buckram “Buck” Bookman and Barbara “Libby” Bookman, and the sibling of Booker B. Bookman . Being born a cis girl made Paige their parents sweet little girl, while Booker cut out a role for himself as the sociable, most-popular boy in school. Her parents did not expect as much from her as they did from Booker, but she could tell they were actually proud of her brother. He was smart, confident, and a positive presence in the lives of people around him.

By high school, Paige was starting to act out. Puberty was kind to her and she started to take the path that led to fun and rebellion. Parties, piercings, dating, and through it all her parents were turning a blind eye. It was Booker who tried to remind her sister to be careful and take care of herself. She scoffed, but her high school years might have been a total waste without his occasional guidance. Paige was not unintelligent, and Booker kept her from blowing her chance at college.

It was her freshman year when a roommate encouraged Paige to join her on a trip to earn some extra spending money at a local club. It was her first night dancing on the stage, and while her inexperience showed, she was hooked on the rush that came with performing. Booker took issue with his sister’s new job choice, but he eventually relented when she explained why she enjoyed it and swore up and down she would be careful.

Then everything took a turn for the worse. Paige and Booker were at the same college party when one of Booker’s friends triggered an explosive mutation that left the fraternity house collapsing on itself. The siblings were fortunate not to be caught in the initial blast radius, and Booker found his intoxicated sister and dragged her out of the building. It was already a tragedy, but it could have ended there for Paige.

Except Booker was the type of person who deserved to be called a hero. He heard the faint screams of his girlfriend Spencer stuck and unable to escape. Paige tried to hold her brother back, but Booker was strong and determined and ran back into the building.

Spencer barely made it out. She was crying because Booker did not.

Paige was mad at her brother, even if she could never admit it. Her perfect, considerate hero brother always had to save people, and he was gone. There was no one to save Paige and she had no one’s expectations to live up to. She fueled her anger and regret and bitterness with heavy drinking and an increase in her dancing time. School seemed wrong, because Booker was the one who was supposed to walk across the graduation stage and he came two months short. She pulled out of classes after her mediocre first semester of sophomore year. She always had the opportunity to return to her studies, but she was just struggling to be on campus where everyone saw her as “the sister of that heroic guy who died.”

Paige bounced around from club to club, never committing to one place as her “home stage,” but some of her dancer friends started telling her about Atlantis. They said the nightclub had an exotic dance club area where girls could make a real killing. They also dismissed the idea because there were rumors that the club prioritized bringing in mutant girls.

Lying about being a mutant was well within Paige’s range of dishonesty. Paige had a few successful nights at the club before her true identity was exposed. She was unaware of the type of people running Atlantis or the trouble she found herself in.

She was offered what appeared to be leniency. Paige could continue to dance at Atlantis, but if she was to “play the role of a mutant,” she had to spend her shifts under the effects of Ambrosia. She had heard of the drug and was always curious about it, but Booker had always been there to remind her of the major potential side-effects of the so-called “nectar-of-the-gods.”

Well, Booker was not around, and she took the deal. She discovered the intoxicating effects of her temporary mutation and embraced how it allowed her to push away the darkness of her reality. Unfortunately, that escape became addictive and the longer she used Ambrosia, the shorter the length of the effect. Soon, she stopped her club hopping because she knew dancing at Atlantis was the easiest way for her to continue having access to Ambrosia.

Paige has been at Atlantis for almost three years, using her dancing, her partying, and her artificial gift to avoid reality whenever possible.

Roleplay

What’s your OOC alias?: Neo

Where did you learn about this site?: This is my forever home

Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Rebecca Grey-Morris , Stephanie Graves , and Chrysanthemum Van Hart

Charlie was keeping evidence of her employer close to her chest, leaving the matter as a dead end as long as she was consciously trying to avoid the thoughts. She was smart; most people avoided a thought by trying to just not think about it, which in itself meant thinking about it. Charlie was filling her head with other thoughts, making anything hard to catch. It did not hurt that the thoughts she was enjoying were… well, vivid.

Vanessa was not going to give up on finding out who her stalker was, but she needed to approach the topic after Charlie was less focused. They needed to clear their minds, and there were plenty of ways to reach that point. Some were more enjoyable than others.

Was it dirty? Considering sleeping with her possibly immortal investigator for information? Then again, she had a point; maybe she was using one desire to justify the other. It was totally valid that she might want to find out who was gathering information on her and sleep with Charlie as two unrelated wants.

Charlie pushed away and walked back toward the counter in the kitchen. It was almost like she was goading Vanessa with all the confidence of a woman with years of experience. She had also failed to get what she came for; Vanessa gave her minimal information to help her research. It made her wonder if maybe they were both looking to take their frustrations and make the most of a bad situation.

Vanessa was tired of feeling mopey and bitter. As temporary as it was, Charlie had her blood pumping. After being down for so long, it felt uncomplicated and it felt good.

Long strides on long legs closed the gap between herself and Charlie. The drink was just being placed back on the counter when Vanessa took the investigator’s advice. ”Fine, be a b**** about it,” she muttered in a low, breathy voice as her fingers grasped at a handful of blonde hair, pulling Charlie in for a deep, aggressive kiss.

Somewhere along the way, her other hand grabbed Charlie in the same place she had recently been grabbed, using the leverage of her body to lift the woman onto the kitchen counter. (Booker would hate to know his sister’s misuse of the kitchen, but for another hour or two, she had other more… pressing concerns.)