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.
>>“I wouldn’t be surprise, Teddy, But she ain’t no hooker; doesn’t look like she has the experience. So that leads me to believe that she is…something else to him.”
Oh great, and now she was back to being a floozy? A glance down at her current wardrobe and yes, she could see how someone could come to that conclusion. Unfortunately, she wasn't given any time to argue. The guy grabbed her chin, fingers pinching in a little bit harder that what was necessary. She winced inwardly at having someone touch her in such a manner, especially some strange man and set to work pushing a little bit of her energy into a batch of spiders. It would take a while.. and in the meantime she was forced to stare at him.
It didn't last long though... His smile told her volumes about the time act he was trying to pull. Ooh, look'it me, I'm the nice fella who's going to save you from harm! Unless you anger me, then I'll be the bad guy. Arr, rawr! Harumph! His hand dropped for a moment, enough time for her to smirk smugly at him, before he smacked her across the cheek so hard her ears were ringing.
Ow... Maybe he was a mind reader?
That... sure had stung. His grip returned to her chin once more, squeezing harder than before. She blinked, a few tears escaping from the side she had been slapped on. She stared him down, refusing to let any of the worry or fear biting at her deep inside show on her face. Instead, she relaxed her expression into a blank mask.
>>“What do you know of that man? And please…don’t lie to me. Otherwise those two will have you next and that blender is their new, favorite toy.”
She watched him for a few more quiet moments, before a grin of her own curled her lips. "Well... since you asked so nicely and all... I'm, like, totally his BFF. We hang out and give each other manicures, and braid each others hair, and gossip about all of the boys.. You know, regular BFF stu--" Bones' smile widened slightly, and he ended her string of commentary with another heavy smack. It was hard enough that she tipped sideways a little, he corrected her though, by latching onto a fist full of her hair and pulling her back upright.
She responded with a gasp, and immediately after a bark of laughter. "Nuuu, stooop! You'll ruin extensions, you monster~!" She giggled, and attempted to worm her way away from him. The man's smile twitched as he yanked her back by her hair and sighed.
"Let's try this again...." He murmured, forcefully tilting her head so he could lean in close to her ear. "I don't like to play games... So, answer my question, and you may just walk away from with with all of your body parts intact."
Pssh, Rafael already beat you to that threat, buddy.
Megan stilled, though, and the smile dropped from her face. She searched his eyes thoughtfully for a moment, as if taking him absolute serious now, before glancing over into the next room where the twins had mixed up their vile concoction. After a moment she dropped her gaze to the floor, mock guilt written all over her face ,and eyebrows furrowed together.
The silence in the room was tense, not only from her buried anger and the tension between all of her captors. She gulped, wriggled on the spot under the pressure, before looking back up at the man in front of her. In a flat second, she sucked in a little breath and spat a medium sized ball of sticky silk and spit directly into his face. It splattered across the bridge of his nose, stuck to an eyebrow and his cheek. He dropped his hand from her hair and reeled back, getting back to his feet with surprising speed and tugging the sticky glob from his face.
Megan grinned from her spot on the floor, chuckling to herself, and felt immediately satisfied... and terrified, and angry. She felt a lot of things, really, but satisfaction was at the top for the moment. "Sorry... I don't respond well to orders, boys." She knew that she should really keep her mouth shut... but a similar sensation to when she went out hunting with Allison was washing over her. The prospect of pain... the idea that she would be able to inflict harm upon someone, was overtaking her better judgement again. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like it was fluttering in her chest... her limbs tingled. Her eyes darted around her room swiftly, accounting for any weapon like items within an arms length or two, and her grin widened just a little bit more.
It felt like she was losing control again, and it was marvelous...
The two unconscious mutants were swiftly taken deeper within the city. The van pulled into a small complex, automatic gates closed behind it and it drove up into a short driveway as a garage door opened. A few men filed out of the building to loiter out in front of the house and keep an eye on the street, while the van vanished inside. Once the garage door was closed again, all of the occupants inside hopped out. One threw open the side door and collected the woman who had been in the apartment. She was tossed over a shoulder and carried off inside, while the others grouped together to gather up the tranqed Assassin.
The compound was small enough and plain enough, Although a little tall, that it didn't attract attention from the outside. It looked as if a paranoid rich man had hunkered down in a rural part of the city. Unbeknownst to the various neighbors that lined the street on either side, the house wasn't all it appeared to be. Inside, the bottom three floors were lavish and posh. Only the finest things had been bought to decorate each room. The next three floors were made up of military style bunkers. Each room had two beds, and each floor had a communal bathroom. The last floor was by far the most sinister. Every wall had been reinforced with sound proof materials. It was designed to be closed off from the other floors below, and locked from the outside.
Those that entered were either there to be tortured, or the torturer himself.
A solitary staircase was the only way to reach it and once you were past the solid six inch door, you were locked inside until the boss (whoever that was) said otherwise. Three rooms ran the span of the entire upper floor, two connected to each other by a bullet proof window and another solid metal door. They were filled with various implements of pain, as well as as solitary table and a single chair in each. The last room was there for secrecy and shelter from the windowed rooms. Inside the walls were lined with monitors and a com system that would let the viewer harass prisoners. A balcony with glass doors sat at the rear of the room, and was the only way to get outside from the top floor.
Once the man carrying Megan reached the last floor, with those carrying the assassin right behind, she was tossed into one of those windowed rooms. The group moving the much larger man tossed him in the other, and set about restraining his unconscious a@$ into a chair... one that was very similar to the kind often used to electrocute death row inmates.
From within her room, Megan started to come to a little as someone was jostling her. Her eyes fluttered open as a foot pressed down on the back of her neck and her arms were yanked roughly behind her back. Before she could fling a curse or try to figure out what was going on, the pressure was gone... She heard the solid thunk of a heavy door swing shut from somewhere behind her, and wiggled around to see that she had been left in her room alone.
... She was also nicely trussed up like a pig... and her towel was falling off. Anger was the first emotion on the scene. Before the full severity of the situation hit her, she could hear herself mumbling curses and got to wiggling herself into a sitting position. "Oh... For F%$@sake, what now?" As if she had done it a million times before, she arched her back and slipped her bound hands under her butt and around her legs... It was only until they were before her that she noticed she had steel cuffs slapped onto her wrists. More anger bubbled up, as well as a touch of fear and morbid curiosity. Where was she? What the hell was going on...?
....Why was Rafael in the room next to her, with men surrounding him? The door to her room swung open again, and she set about covering her shame with a swift knot in the top of her towel... Two men sauntered in, and the door was shut behind them. She heard locks click into place... "...Who the F%$# are you jerkoffs?" They said nothing... simply watched her.. like they were waiting for something.
The blocks passed quickly, with only odd snippets of conversation between them. Sooner than Megan had expected, she recognized the numbers of a street, and paused. After a moment of though (since Allison had the paper with the address on it), she came to the conclusion that it was the correct intersection.
"This... is it." She stopped at the edge of a cross walk and glanced around. The streets were quiet so far.. but she'd need to broaden her range in order to figure out where the hoodlums were, if they were even out tonight. The twenty five year old knelt, placed her palm on the ground, and off loaded a few spiders from her person. They marched off with silently given orders to head for high places and locate any shifty looking people. Once the last straggler was off of her, she stood back up and glanced around.
"...And now we play the waiting game." With a grin, she started across the street.
~
Just a block away, a group of six stood huddled together. Two of them were busy defacing the side of an apartment building with a brand new tag (As the other had been scrubbed away some time during the week), while the others shuffled around behind them. They ranged in age from sixteen to twenty seven. The eldest had been around the longest, and stood out as a shining example of what to strive to be, for the younger ones. The youngest was a quiet lad, who hung back from the joking and banter. The others were more than happy to leave the kid alone, if he wanted to be alone, too. He was the only mutant of the group, and with a power like his, he was a force to be reckoned with.
As the two taggers finished up with their work, a sound greeted the groups ears. Giggling. Grins were slapped onto the faces of the one man and boys, and with a nod of his head the eldest turned and started walking out of the alley.
Up ahead of them, waiting by herself (or so they thought) was a girl. She looked young, anywhere from eighteen to mid twenties. As they approached, the boys got louder and rowdier and a few of them slipped on plain white masks. If there was one thing they liked doing, it was harassing people... especially pretty girls. Of course, most of the boys didn't know (or ignored) that their leader, their shining example of what they wanted to be when they grew up, was also a terrible, terrible man. (Gang habits aside) He wasn't content with merely harassing women... he had much darker intentions.
~
Her spiders had found themselves pretty good look outs, or were still searching about for one. Megan was in the process of tugging her hood back up for the hundredth time, when she heard the first soft spidery voice chatter something back to her. A large group of people wandering about. Though it could have been a gang of friend wandering home from a bar or something, she asked for some clarification. ".... Hold up... might have something here." She stood and listened for a moment, waiting for her child to gather some more info, and set about rearranging her various weapons. The knife in her boot was safest there... so she left it alone. The stun gun in her pocket however, was taken out and glanced at. She didn't know what kind of weapons Allison had on her, if any at all... She she patted herself down to make sure her other knife was present, as well as her gun, she held the stun gun out for Allison to take.
"Take this, might come in handy for ya." A moment later, and she heard back from the arachnid. A grin curled her lips, impatient and a tad bit sadistic. "Got 'em!"
The warmth of a shower washed some of her stress away, as well as dirt and quite a bit of blood. She hadn't realized that she was so filthy before coming over. The whole thing only lasted for a few minutes, but she was content with the end results. Clean hair, which no longer leaked black dye on her, and freshly scrubbed skin. She hadn't bothered to make any new spider batches within the last few days, so her shoulders and back were oddly lacking in wounds. Then again, she hadn't bothered to because she didn't have anything to be paranoid about anymore. Trent was dead, Roach was... Roach was gone. She didn't need a mob of little spider scurrying around constantly, keeping an eye on dark corners.
With a sigh, she ruffled her hair dry with a towel, before wrapping it securely around herself. She'd deal with her dirty clothes later, after she napped... or something. With a little click the bathroom door swung gently open. She had cleaned up any mess left behind, and hadn't bothered to use any of his shower products. She glanced out into the hall, both ways, before strolling back toward the living room. Any droplets of water were gone by the time she got there, and with her things folded neatly in her arms she found a corner to set them in. The view from his apartment was still just as spectacular as it had been the last time she had been there, and it fully captured her attention... until...
Knockknock.
Her head whipped around, and without really thinking she found herself wandering toward the door. 'Who's there..?' Through the peep hole, she saw... a pizza boy? A red and while cap, head tilted just right so that she couldn't see his face. She raised a quizzical eyebrow, but decided not to judge whatever junk food Lion face decided to shovel down his gullet. He was in pretty good shape anyway, so it wasn't exactly like it was going straight to his gut or anything. She casually unlocked the door, barely had it open as she turned and called over her shoulder. "Rafael? You order a piz--"
Before she could finish her sentence, the door was roughly shoved open the rest of the way and someone reached in to grip her shoulder. The Pizza man had tossed an empty pizza box to the side, and she caught sight of a gun in one of his hands. Yanking herself to the side, out of his grasp, she pulled a newly learned move and swept one of his legs neatly out from under him. While it wasn't enough to knock him off his feet, it gave her a moment to turn as make a run for it! If she could just get to her weapons, she could--
The butt of his gun ended her trail of thought mid flight, when it crashed swiftly and powerfully into the back of her skull. She was conscious for the few seconds it took her to crash into the floor... and then she blacked out completely. Pizza man set about gathering her up and out of the way, as his very well armed companions swarmed into the apartment from around the corner.
She raised an eyebrow at the squirrel comment, but decided not to question it. It was probably something she didn't want to know about anyway... Instead, she grinned and shrugged a shoulder. "I doubt they are an intelligent breed, either that or they just don't care. Either way, I think the little punks are well deserving of a little neighborhood justice."
The reports she had heard of described them as male, averaged size and of an unknown age. The guys wore masks while running around terrorizing people, so their real ages were up for grabs. Megan didn't expect them to be any older than her, and was leaning heavily on the suspicion that they were younger. Because, really, what thirty year old wandered around causing childish mayhem in the middle of the night?
A really lame one. Her mind shot back, and she pulled a little slip of paper from her pocket. It had the address and a few little notes scrawled on it, she handed it to Allison rather than having to parrot the information at her. "It's not too far from here, only a few blocks. As far as I know they haven't branched out of their little hole yet, which is probably why they haven't bothered anyone around here." A smart, or lucky, move, considering the fight she had seen spill into the street not to long ago. Whoever those red dudes were, they were a scary bunch. Flying vans and monster sized fist fights.
...Just another average day in New York City.
She headed off down the sidewalk, tugged her hood up over her hair, then tucked them into the pockets of her coat. Tonight was going to be a relaxing, easy night. Beat up a few snot nosed kids, gloat a little bit, then head home and relax after a job well done.
For a moment, it looked as if her bluff had been called. He stepped forward, blade raised, anger in his eyes, and all she could do was force back a flinch and reach for her gun.
A fraction of a second before her fingers touched the warm metal, however, the sharp machete was buried into the couch beside her... and her arm was still attached. It was surely a miracle if she had ever seen one.
“I like this carpet, You steal anything from here and I will cut off your damn head.”
Good thing she wasn't in a thieving mood. She waited until his back was to her, to let herself visibly relax and her arm drop to her side. The threat was gone for the moment, though there was a constant reminder of just how close she had come to losing an arm sitting right next to her. Slowly, her eyes traveled from the Rafael's back to the blade he had been holding. She didn't know how many of the damn things he owned, but each had probably seen it's fair share of victims. She knew she was rather lucky not to be counted among them.
With a little sigh, her other hand dropped from behind her, away from her hidden weapon, and she turned to stare at the machete. "...Guess he doesn't care much for the couch, then..." Prying the blade free from fabric and stuffing alike, she eyed it carefully in her hand for a moment, before striding further into the living room. She dropped it on the coffee table as she passed, and stopped herself before the windows.
As she was about to put slip her hands back into her pockets, a sudden stinging sensation sprang to life. She raised the hand she had been holding out to Rafael, the one that had dodged being snipped from her body by a fraction of an inch, and noticed that a little finger nail sized portion of skin was missing from one of her fingers. Had her gloves not been fingerless, she probably wouldn't have noticed right away. A rueful smile curled her lip and she giggled, eyeballing the tiny insignificant wound as blood crept to the surface.
He had been so damn close to harming her, that turning away at the last second had still nicked her pretty good. Bringing the finger to her mouth, she stopped herself from bleeding on his carpet, and stared out at the city's night lights.
After a few moments of staring blankly out the window, she turned and eyed the living room again. Of all the things she wanted to do, sitting down was not on the list. If she sat, anywhere, she was sure that she wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. A nap sounded amazing... and with Rafael stalking around, also very dangerous.
But... A shower sounded just lovely. She shot a glance in the direction he had gone, before treading a path straight toward the bathroom.
“I remember, you were plastered off your butt on rum,”
Her hackles rose and she clenched her fists in her pockets. Okay... so he brought it up, of course he would... she had mostly been expecting that. She fought down a sudden flare of anger, took a deep breath and forcefully relaxed suddenly tense shoulders.
“I’m not running a hotel here, sweetheart, And you’ve caused me more than enough damage, money, and sanity then I’d like to mention. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hack your goddamn hand off, Megan, and call it even for ruining my job on that bridge?”
Sweetheart didn't describe her right in the slightest. She turned her chin, blue eyes locking on the weapon held threateningly out toward her and she frowned slightly. So... they were already at that point then? Slowly, with measured steps, she turned on the spot until she was facing him. She remained quiet while she thought, as if really trying to come up with a reason. She was actually busy trying to gauge if she was outside of his range, and and if she wasn't how many steps back she would get before he would follow her. She doubted that it would take more than one... Once your opponent starts backing away, you've basically already won.
"I'd like to, I can assure you that." Calmly, she pulled a hand from her pocket and held it out toward him as if she were waiting to take something for him. "But I don't have any." She shrugged her other shoulder lazily, pulled her other hand free from her pocket, and let it hang loosely at her side. "Take the hand if you want it, I can't see it doing anything more than staining your carpet and giving you momentary satisfaction."
It was a bluff... and a big one at that. She watched him like a hawk the entire time, eyes waiting to catch any signs of movement. Her free arm hovered at her side, ready to reach back and pull the little pistol from its cozy hiding place tucked into the back of her jeans. She didn't even blink for a few tense moments... but her mind wandered a little.
"...It didn't sound like you were intending to finish this job of yours anyway, considering you seemed to want the boy for different reasons."
“There something you want? Or did you just think that today was a good day to bug me?”
The twenty five year old stopped in the hallway, hands still tucked in her pockets, and turned to face him. Was there something she wanted?... Yes. There were many things she wanted, many of which she wasn't sure if she could handle getting. But, there were only a few things she wanted from him specifically.
"I don't want to go back to my apartment just yet... Too many memories." It was the truth, and probably all he would be getting out of her on the matter. He didn't need to know much more about her connection to Roach, or her feelings... and he sure as hell didn't need to know any more about her past. He already knew far too much in her opinion.
..but... there were other things on her mind as well. She wondered how he had taken her actions on the bridge, and if she would be getting any retaliation for it. As she turned back around and eyed his living room, she sighed. "...I am aware that it is a lot to ask, but... could I stay here for a little while?"
God, that felt strange to ask... Especially after their last merry trip to his home.
"...Figured I might as well get this out of the way before it crept up to bite me in the ass as well... Last time we met didn't exactly leave much time to talk..."
The door swung open, and there he was. She resisted the urge to about face and march off down the hallway without a word. The unbuttoned shirt would have normally at least gotten a curious eyebrow raise.. but she really didn't care at the moment. She simply stood and stared, not reacting in the slightest when she caught sight of the blade he held.
...Still, in her pocket her hand clenched ever so slightly around a pair of brass knuckled she had hidden under her gloves. She didn't much care about losing her life and what not, but getting hacked to bits by a larger, sharper cousin of a bowie knife wasn't the least painful way to go.
She'd avoid it if she could...
"... I know." She muttered back, running a hand through her loose hair. She did look awful... but looking good took energy, and she just didn't have any. Thankfully, she had found her way to his doorstep before she had gotten too ragged.
"... May I come in?" The words were hollow, a formality at best. Megan had never been one with manners unless a situation called for it, but she didn't feel like her usual snark would make the situation any better. Instead, she'd chose her words carefully, tiptoeing her way around her usual mannerism.
Even if it was kind of painful to ask if she could come in.
The hallway was silent. Lights buzzing quietly over head, the potted plants stuffed into dainty corners scorned her as she stood an arms length away from the door before her. A light flush had overtaken her cheeks, purely from memories of the last time she had been inside that apartment. The circles under her eyes had darkened considerably, and she was more pale than usual from a few days without bothering to really eat anything. An expression that was torn between pain and anger hovered over her features as she contemplated knocking, and chewed on her bottom lip.
What was she doing back here? Surely she wasn't apologizing about everything that had happened.
..No.. no she wasn't.
She was standing there purely out of a lack of anywhere else to go. Motels were filthy, the mansion meant answering questions to a roommate who would surely pester her about things, and... she couldn't honestly face her own apartment right now. It was still painful even thinking about what had happened.
So.. wait, why was she here again? His stupid, aggravating face would act as a constant reminder to her... what was she hoping to gain meeting him again? She thought about it for a moment, and couldn't pinpoint an answer. Her feet had led her to where she currently stood... and she was pretty tired of running. Blowing black bangs from her face, she pulled a hand from her pocket and rapt a few times on the door.
She didn't expect things to go smoothly, in fact, she expected yelling and possibly violence. But she didn't really care anymore. Losing someone close to her, the last person she had allowed inside her walls, had left her seeking out trouble whenever she had the chance. The healing split on her bottom lip was proof of it, as well as the new bruises on her ribs.
She could handle an argument, even getting turned away, so long as she could cross this meeting off her list... and maybe snag a place to sleep for the night. After knocking a few more times, she patted herself down to make sure her various weapons were still on her person (just in case a fight started), before tucking her hands back into her pockets of her jeans.
Shrugging a lazy shoulder, she consented. There was nothing she could do about it now other than gripe, and she'd really rather douse the anger in her belly with alcohol. She really couldn't be mad at him anyway. There would always be those who chose to act like gentleman... or heroes. She knew a few personally.
A grin wound its way onto her lips, and she bothered to actually look at him, rather than at his reflection. His friend owned the bar, and was going to show him a good time? "So... free booze and cheap women then?" That was the kind of fun most guys seemed to be out looking for. "Your friend needs to have his head checked if it turns that he does find this place entertaining. It's only good for free drinks... and even those are half-assed."
She swirled her cup to add a little embellishment to her words, and received the stink eye from the bartender behind the counter. It only served to make her grin widen. "I could point out at least a dozen places in this area better suited for good times." Many of them were better suited for regulars though... New faces tended to receive ill will, unless it was female, that is.
"...I won't though... I'm far too selfish for sharing." With another large sip from her drink, she crossed her legs and set her chin in a palm, resting her elbow on the counter. If she were to offer to tell him where those places were, she would be breaking a contract with herself on not being nice anymore. To anyone. Being nice only ever got you into trouble... and she was tired of getting herself into trouble.
Oh Great... now someone else was involved. The guy right next to her, as it turned out, was just as annoyed with the frat boy as she was. She should have been thankful, really... but she wasn't.
She didn't need some tightwad thinking she was a damsel in distress, not when she was trying so damn hard not be be one. Tapping her fingers on the counter, she listened to the exchange of words with gritted teeth. The first punch was thrown, and she really hadn't been expecting it to come from anyone else. The other guy knocked him back, clearly packing a punch for his age... and she was suddenly reminded of the problem that had driven her to the bar in the first place. Stupid rotten annoying men who thought they knew more than anyone else! She slipped from her seat behind the man with the scars on his hands, clenched a fist at her side, and waited until the frat boy stepped forward again to make her move.
The Ice breath's attention was focused directly on his larger, male opponent. He opened his big fat trap to say something, probably about how the first hit had been a cheap shot, but she was quick to stop him. She stepped out from behind the burned man, took one quick step forward and sent her fist (brass knuckles and all) sailing straight into the frat boys jugular. He jolted back, less from the power of her hit (since she couldn't hit very hard yet) and more from the combined surprise of it, and the pain her hidden weapon dealt to him. One stagger backward turned into a topple off his feet and he collapsed on the floor, choking and spitting.
Megan squared her feet, grinning despite her terrible mood, and tucked her hands into her pockets. "I'd take his advice, Buddy... Before something terrible happens to you." She could feel her stun gun in her pocket, already in a prime position to snatch it up and pull it out.
Frat boy coughed, shot them a hate filled sneer and let a bystander help him to his feet. Those that were close had seen the boy throw the first fist... they had also seen both of his poor attempts at flirting. While one man helped him to his feet, another set about trying to calm him down and usher him off. He threw a raspy thread about returning back at them. Megan responded with a snort, and turned to re-claim her seat.
After stealing another sip of her drink, she wrinkled her nose and glared into the mirror behind the bar. Though there were various bottles stacked up on the shelves, blocking out some of the reflection, she was still able to pin her eyes on the man with the burned hands. "...I didn't need your help, you know."
...It was a half truth, and she knew it. She could normally handle herself against one person... but the guy had been a little bigger than she was used to. Still, she felt just a tiny bit insulted that he had stepped in at all. "... aren't you a little old for an establishment like this anyway?"
She shrugged, and continued grinning. "I got bored of just waiting, so I decided to try and surprise you... Honestly, I'm a little weirded out that it worked." But, no looking gift horses in the mouths!
“As long as you promise not to injure me any more.”
She lifted her hand, tucking her thumb and pinky down, and tried to force a serious expression onto her face. "Scouts honor." Of course she had no plans on tackling or injuring the girl any more, she hadn't even really planned on tackling her in the first place. It had just come to her on a random impulse... probably brought on from spending way too much time around Roach.
Hopping to her feet, she adjusted her various hidden weapons (and clothing) and tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat. With a jerk of her chin, she turned and started heading for the door. "I had been planning on just walking around tonight... the usual route I'm used to, but then I heard about some jerks who've been harassing people at night a few blocks from here. I figured I might need some help showing them what's what."
The punks in question where considered more of a nuisance than anything, but they were getting bolder day by day. Compared to the people Allison and her had taken on before, it was sure to be a cake walk.
The cool air outside greeted her as she waltzed back out the front doors, hopped down the steps and waited for Allison to join her at the bottom. "...Sound good to you?"
To make matters worse, the most annoying song blared to life behind her, and the crowd of twenty something's went bat sh*t crazy. Megan growled quietly to herself, and cast her eyes over to a new body as it claimed the seat next to her. A swift once over gave her all of the information she needed. He looked older, was dressed in a similar fashion to some of the other jerks loitering about the place... and he had some rather nasty scars on him.
Her own drink was temporarily forgotten as she took a moment to stare, if a little openly. They looked pretty bad, like they had a story behind them. ... Not that she really cared much for stories. She shifted on her stool, crossing a leg over the other, and wrinkled her nose. Of course, out of a bar full of stools, he would choose to sit in the empty one next to her. She decided not to open her mouth and say anything, mainly because anything she had to say had the potential to start a fight. Instead, she lifted her glass to her lips once more.
Behind her (and the man who has claimed the seat beside her), another man was trying overly hard to convince a girl in a very tight white dress that he was the best thing that would ever happen to her. It ended with a scoff, a huff, and a slap that was audible over the music. With a red hand print marring his newly shaven cheek, the guy stared after her as she turned and sauntered away. "Whatever lady! You aren't that good lookin' anyway!" Nursing his wounded pride, he turned sat on one of the bar stools as its former owner got up and headed toward the bathrooms. Unfortunately for Megan, it turned out to be the seat on her other side. After ordering himself a beer, he glanced around. His eyes roved over the many people mulling about, until they fell on the woman beside him. He eyed her quietly for a moment, before a sly grin reappeared on his face.
Compared to some of the other men in the bar, he was of the attractive sort. Auburn hair slicked back, dark sunglasses poised on the bridge of his nose (even though it was dark in the bar..), a polo shirt with the collar popped out, and dark jeans that fit his tush just right. Yeah, he was a stag, and he knew it. (It was just hard convincing everyone else...) "Hey babe, why don't you ditch the burn victim and hang out with a man who's cool as ice?" As if his cheesy, cliche introduction wasn't bad enough, when Megan glanced over at him he pursed his lips and blew. A little puff of chilled air came out, sparkled with little flecks of ice.
The temptation to just go on ignoring him was strong, and yet... she just couldn't manage it. She stared, dead pan, with one eyebrow raised questioningly. The burn victim? He obviously meant the guy on the other side of her. Her annoyance tripled, and a sharp frown settled on her lips. "...Go away." Her eyes returned to her glass, but he didn't seem fazed. Instead, he turned around and leaned back against the bar, making sure to flex his arm muscles blatantly. "Playing hard to get, eh? How about I guy you a drink then?" Her hands curled into fists, and Megan felt the warm metal of a pair of hidden brass knuckles bite at her palms under fingerless gloves. Anger boiled to life under the surface of her skin, and a calm settled over her face. "Ladies get free drinks tonight, genius. How about you leave me alone before I do something that you'll regret?" Hopefully he would get her message this time.
... He didn't. The man reached up and took his sunglasses off, an obvious look of aggravation on his face. "Look, you're not exactly the best looking broad in this place, so it would be in your best interest to accept my offer."
She shot Gawain a swift, unimpressed scowl, before shrugging and crossing her arms over her chest. "I suppose one of these day's I'll just have to track this jerk down and get my things back. Unless he wears them or something... then he can have them." She smirked at the mirror walker, somewhat amused by the conversation.
Then she turned her eyes back to Ami, and her smile shifted back into a grin. "Well, thank you kindly." She ordered the arachnids to bow, and then they filed neatly back into their various hiding places.
With a sigh, the twenty five year old pushed herself back to her feet and stretched lazily. "As much fun as this has been, I really probably should be going." She speared Gawain with a look, smirking slightly. "I'll be back though... so start leaving me warnings when the room is occupied. I don't know if there is enough bleach in the world to clean my eyes out if I ever happen catch you in the middle of something."
Glancing at Ami, she half saluted and grinned. "It was great meeting you Ami. We should hang out some time and exchange lots of juicy gossip behind Gawainya's back!"
She turned, not bothering with anything mushy like a hug, and waved over her shoulder at the two kids. "Have fun snogging, or whatever~!" She stuck her tongue out at Gawain lazily, before letting herself out.