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.
yanking her eyes away from the black pit of doom before them, the twenty five year old stared at him blankly. He... wanted to... what?! Of all the crazy things she'd done in her life, entrusting her safety to a steel cable and her own physical strength was.... insane.
"Ladies first..."
One eyebrow arched, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Hooo-no. I am not shimmying down fifty some odd stories with you're hulking form waiting to slip up and come crashing down on top of me."
She pointed at empty elevator doorway. "You go first."
Good news everyone!* I won't be on very often next week, due to babysitting my nephew from Monday to friday! :'D I'll probably have time at night after he's asleep, but may be to tuckered out to do more than groan and crawl about in cbox!
*(Hubert Farnsworth reference, go watch some Futurama!)
She hit the bottom of halfway point down the flight of stairs, where they turned with the wall, and stopped upon hearing her name. What the hell did he want now? With one hand on the railing, she turned back to face him.
"We can't stay in the stairwell. They'll get wise and start firing randomly down here. Open that door to this floor. If we slip in, we may find something else to aid us..."
The door he was talking about sat at the bottom of the second half of the short length of stairs. She glanced at it briefly, before directing her gaze back up to the door they had come through. ... He did have a point. "Or... I could just leave you here as a distraction." She felt that was a pretty good option, considering that they were technically after him.
....But then there was also that pesky chance of survival... and she didn't need to be on anyone else's Sh*t list in this lifetime. Marching back up the stairs, she paused at his side and offered him help if he needed it. Then, she moved back down and opened the door, peeking inside. It was dark... which was good because that meant it was most likely empty. "Looks deserted..." Stepping inside, she started building up some silk in her mouth while looking around. With basically no spiders on hand, and only a knife to defend herself, she figured she could use it as a safety measure if needed. Tripping people up, hurling spit globs... whatever. It made her feel a little better about the situation, for some reason. She heard a warning from one of her scouts that men were about to enter the stairwell, and slammed the door to the suite shut once they were both inside. Snatching up a chair from nearby, she wedged it under the door handle. It'd stop them for a while... but not forever.
With her mouth steadily filling up with silk, she cut back on chattering for the moment, and instead turned to scope out the room. It was far cleaner than the floor above, and far quieter. There was a large desk in the middle of the entry room surrounded by comfy looking chairs. Looked like some type of meeting room to her. Probably used to discuss things important rich people bothered themselves with, while looking down on the outside world and clinking brandy glasses with each other.
... That thought led her back to drinking. And she wished she had stopped and raided the bar. A warm cup of mind altering goodness wounded delicious at that moment in time. Her scout chimed in again with more info, informing her on what was happening.
"... There's two guys up on the floor above us..." She said, her words slightly distorted due to the silk. "... one of them is in the stairwell." Striding over to the front door, she slipped it open and stepped out into the hallway. The floor lights above the elevator door were still, so they weren't riding it down to them. But when she pressed the down button to summon it, nothing happened. No lights, no pinging, no nothing. It didn't bode well, so she turned to her partner for ideas....
Inwardly glad she hadn't turned around to see how he took care of the last man, she cringed at the sounds still reverberating around in her ears and slapped her hand onto the wall next to her. She still have a small handful of spiders left, jumpers, and she planned on using them. As Rafael walked past her, her children marched from her body, five small black bodies scurrying as quickly as they could down the wall toward the exit. They were her last. If she made it out of the building alive, she'd have to clean her wounds and start all over again in the morning.
Trudging after her companion, she couldn't help but pause in the doorway of the bar. The trance like dance music was still thumping away, as if nothing had changed. The urge to run in and snatch up a bottle or two of the expensive booze was easily fought back, given the circumstances. She moved to catch up to Rafael, her stolen knife clutched tightly in her fist.
Down the hallway sat the main room, where the elevator was located. Not to far from that sat the only other exit out of the building. A solitary door in a corner, with a small plague that read 'Stairs'. She didn't know what his plan was, considering he probably had a better scope on things than she did at the moment... considering it was apparently his job, and all.
Door that led out to the elevator room was sitting wide open, and cups, plates, bottles and silverware were strewn about the floor. Even a shoe or two. Megan stayed back near the hallway, letting her children scurry off toward the elevator and the stairwell. One crawled across the ceiling and stopped just to the side of the light fixture, little blue eyes taking everything in before it radioed back to her. The room was currently empty. Another two squeezed through a gap above the stairs door, and peeked about for anyone loitering behind it.
The bright numbers above the elevator shifted steadily however. Indicating that it was heading towards the floor they were on. Most likely with troublesome occupants. Megan ordered the spider out near it to stay up, and tell her if anything changed. She made a beeline for the Stairwell door, opening it a crack... just to make sure it was really empty, before she stepped foot inside. Moving to the railing, she glanced down while silently commanding two of her remaining spiders to lower themselves to the bottom and make sure it was safe. She didn't like what she saw... "...hell..." They were so high up that looking down she couldn't even see the end of the stairs. The bottom just dropped off into semi darkness, probably due to dim lighting... They either had to stay and fight off whoever was in the elevator, or hoof it down the emergency stairwell.
She was almost willing to stay and fight... almost.... but then she got frantic word from her eyes out in the front room, that the elevator doors were opening. She took off down the steps, not even waiting for Rafael to lead the way, or follow. She just wanted to be out of the damned building as fast as possible.
The after effects of the shot went unnoticed from her stop on the ground. In throwing herself at the older man and not knocking him to the floor, she landed on her side. Her ears were still ringing as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, and gripped at her injured arm.
Well... Cameron was dead. Very clearly so... and the guy with the gun wasn't about to be doing anything anytime soon. Glancing up at her companion with a frown, she halfheartedly wondered what kind of a guy could get drugged and yet still be able to function as much as he was. Her conclusion; A scary one. With only one man still alive, she figured it was a pretty safe bet that they could leave now. Any party goers still slumming around after that confrontation were probably either drunk, or too stupid to really pose any sort of challenge.
While her heart was still beating away excitedly in her chest, she let out a shaky breath and glanced up at Rafael.
“Could swear you’ve done this type of thing before,”
Megan snorted, running a hand through her disheveled hair before she took the one he had offered her. She let him pull her up onto her feet, and eyed the mess around them. "... Hardly."
Hell, the only killer she ever hung around was a goddamn giant cockroach. And even then, she didn't have to put up with crap like this. An overwhelming feeling of victory sprang to her chest, almost overshadowing the mixed feelings of confusion, dread, and exhaustion. The last time she had been involved in a situation like this, had been years before... on a subway train. ... and even then, she hadn't really killed anyone. Not like this time, anyway. Walking over to the body with her stolen knife in it, she pressed a foot to his chest and knelt down to yank the blade free. It was stained red, and she wasn't sure if she was fascinated, or thoroughly freaked out by that fact. Briefly, she considered giving it back to Rafael... but she shot that notion down quickly. It was hers. She had confiscated it fair and square.
The screams of the one man left alive had quieted into moans. Wrinkling her nose, she turned to face her partner in crime. "...He knows what we look like... The venom in his system could kill him, but it can take a while to get to that point. If he lives he'll be a problem." The guy heard her over his own moaning, and got steadily louder as panic set in. She shot a look back at him, and scowled. "...and he's really very annoying."
From over where Cameron's body sat, propped up against the wall, a crackling started up. Then, a voice broke through. "Cameron? Cameron...? What's the situation... ?" There was a brief pause, then... "...Damnit, we're coming up!"
Megan cursed colorfully, and hopped onto the bookcase sprawled before the doorway. "...It sounds like reinforcements, we need to move!"
Getting to her feet, she focused solely on her opponent. He lurched toward her again, stopping her from getting any sort of defensive stance going, and latched onto her shoulder with one hand. He had a firm grip of her hoodie, and lifted his knife to stab at her. The blade tore through the sleeve of her coat, just below her shoulder and she hissed in pain, gritting her teeth tightly. With her free hand, she latched onto his wrist to keep the knife from slicing her again, and silently commanded the rest of the spiders lurking in her hood to march onto his arm, like they were pirates boarding a ship. He kept her own knife at bay by switching his grip from her shoulder to her hand when she tried to stab at his neck. He didn't notice the black widows until they were creeping up the sleeve on his forearm and onto his shoulder, and when he did he couldn't stop himself from flinching and attempting to step away.
His foot came down crooked on a book that had fallen from the toppled shelf, and he pitched backwards.... dragging Megan with him. The twenty five year old stumbled and landed on him. Her weight fell on the knife in her hand, driving it deeply into his chest. He breathed out once, a long, wet sounding Ooof, then stopped moving. Megan wasn't really sure what had happened until she sat up, sitting on his stomach, and saw that she had driven the blade straight through his left lung. For a small, horrified moment, she sat mutely and let the realization that she had just killed someone sink in...
Off in the corner of the room, the man with the broken nose spotted the discarded shotgun. He looked from the weapon, to Cameron, then to the assassin, then to the girl. They were all properly distracted.
He bolted to retrieve the gun, gaining Megan's attention in the process. By the time she turned and figure out what was happening, he already had it in hand and was straightening back out from having been bent down. She gave the panicked order to the spiders clinging to him to attack, and pushed herself to her feet, shouting out Rafael's name as she closed the gap between them and threw herself at him in an attempt to knock him to the floor.
The widows on the man with the broken nose jumped into action, flying down on hastily attached silk threads onto his face. One latched over his right eye, they other over his left, and they sank their fangs in deeply. The other found a spot at his neck to bite. He was immediately blinded, just as he had aimed the powerful gun at the assassin. Cameron finally pried himself from the wall, leaving his glasses (and a good amount of hair) behind. The shot gun went off, hitting him squarely in the chest, and he was thrown back into the wall violently.
"Yeah yeah..." She muttered, not in the mood to grin. She watched him move into position beside the door, and flinched when banging on the door continued- even louder. She tried to steel herself in preparation... but it was hard. She was used to the occasional fist fight in a bar, or angry exchanging of words at red lights... but this? This was a whole new can of worms.
She felt apprehensive, frightened, angry... and even a little excited. With the possibility of a gun being in play, she was unsure of weather she would walk out of this in one piece, or at all for that matter. ....But she was damn sure going to try! She'd spent too many years running, starting her life over from scratch with every state, to give up now. ... not when she was so close to actually being free. Drawing in a slow breath, she ordered her children to be prepared.
With a deafening crash, the four on the outside broke through. The bookcase pitched forward, sending the few books and knickknacks on it bounding across the floor.
And the barrel of a fully loaded shotgun entered the room, followed by it's owner. Rafael launched into action, faster than she would have given a drugged man credit for. His blade disappeared into the man's shoulder, and then slashed across his front. Megan held back on hawking her silk glob and stopped the spiders lurking above the door from hurling themselves at him. Her companion sent him crashing to the floor quickly enough, and the gun clattered away into a corner of the room while he crawled away to nurse his wounds. Instead, she turned her attention to the next to enter, giving the silent order for three of the five widows above the door to drop onto him as he entered the room. One found purchase on his shoulder and two in his hair. He didn't notice as he rounded the corner and went after Rafael.
The next who entered wielded only a small switch blade, and behind him was Cameron. Megan spat her sticky silk ball straight at them. The first man dodged, stepped out on the way just in time, but Cameron walked straight into it. The silk slammed into the side of his head, partially covering his face, and he pitched sideways into the wall. he was stuck there, glued face to wall. The silk would hold him, struggling or not, for a short amount of time. She grinned at her handiwork, thoroughly satisfied, but made the amateur mistake of taking her eyes off of the one with the switch blade.
He charged her, knife at the ready, and she barely had time to stumble back as he slashed at where she had just been standing. Half cursing, she brought up her stolen blade and held it aloft. She was no knife master, hardly even knew how to use it really, but it was a weapon and the only one between her and him. They stared each other down for a second, and then the guy pulled some fancy karate sh*t on her, and swept her legs out from under her in one fluid kick. Landing flat on her back, she rolled to the side quickly, causing him to miss her and stab the carpet instead. Kicking at his head, Megan reached back into her hood and latched onto the largest of her spiders. A two inch tarantula with equally long legs. She hurled it at the guys face, hoping that it'd latch on and distract him, giving her a chance to launch her own attack. With her own fight going on, she didn't have time to see how Rafael was going against his bat wielding foe...
Her quick survey of the room brought up nothing, and the windows were sealed... and far to high to climb down anyway. The older man muttered something, so she left her station by the barricade and hurried over to him. About an arms length away, she was able to hear him better.
And it was not good news.
He had been drugged, because he was supposed to kill someone called Cameron. Her first guess? Guy with the glasses. Why? Probably for breaking every fashion taboo known to man. Letting slip a long, aggravated curse word, she turned away from him and stomped across the room. There were an unknown number of men after then, including someone worthy of a hit man. Aforementioned killer was currently unable to kill from the looks of it, and she was trapped in the room with him.
Fuuuuu... why did she always get stuck with the complicates ones, huh? Why couldn't she get her hands on the nice, brawny stupid ones for a change? Whoever was behind the door shook it, then pounded at it for a good measure, jostling her from her thoughts. Her eyes whipped to the bookshelf, and she pursed her lips. Crossing the room, she placed a hand on the wall and ordered two of her spiders to depart. The fuzzy little bodies of two small jumping spiders hopped and bounced down her arm, then skittered up the wall and toward the door behind the bookshelf as she silently commanded. The pounding and kicking at the door had wiggled it out of place a little, giving the two spiders enough room to slip through and get a peek at how many men they'd have to deal with.
Meanwhile, she put a little extra effort into finishing the other batch of spiders, and crossed back to where Rafael was. Her children radioed in with a number, and she stared at the wall behind him, with lips pursed slightly. "...There are four of them...." She stated, shifting her eyed the the carpet. Asking if they had any sort of weapons got her confused chittering, but apparently one had a long, tubular boomy stick. She could only assume it was some type of firearm. "... one has a gun." She relayed to Rafael. "... I hope you have some sort of helpful suggestions, because they are almost through that door." Because i've never done anything like this before... She locked her eyes on him for a moment as the bookshelf shook under the power of one man's kicking. The door was nearly broken through on the other side, and all that was keeping it together was the weight of the bookshelf. About half of the dozen spiders incubating along her back were ready. She felt their birth bubbles pop and ooze, and the newly hatched widows scurried up to lurk in the hood of her coat until ordered to do something. She twiddled with the knife in her hand, and stalked back to the wall beside the bookshelf.
Planting her hand on it, she ordered five of them to crawl off and sit above the door in wait. She was sure that whoever had the gun would come in first, so she'd have to deal with him before the others. Another solid kick caused the bookshelf to jump forward a half an inch, so she retreated into the room. The silk ball in her mouth was getting big enough that talking was going to be a problem, but... she intended to spit it out at the first person who entered.
The grumpy, and a little sluggish, fine brought a grin to her lips, and she fell back into just letting herself dance along with the music. The song shifted to another, so she adapted to it. The beat was faster, more frenzied. She dipped, swayed, and bounced to it, and temporarily lost herself in the process.
Just like old times.
It wasn't until Rafael started acting a little funny, that she snapped back out of it. She slowed down, shooting him a blank stare, and eyed him quietly for a moment. Was he having heart problems or something? On account of being so old? Maybe he had old man gas or something. God, she didn't know. Before she could open her mouth and ask, he gripped her shoulders tightly and growled at her.
“G-Get out of here,”
She blinked at him, icy eyes widening, and her children's panicked alerts sounded off in her head a second later. She swung around, her gaze bypassing the other dancing bodies, to fixate on the ones heading directly for them. With a growl of her own, she pushed some extra energy into starting up a new batch of spiders, and threw herself into action.
The unfortunate woman in six inch heels who happened to be gyrating close by her became an obstacle, when Megan grabbed her roughly from behind and shoved her into the path of one of the oncoming goons. Backing up toward Rafael, she bent down and snatched up the blade stashed in her boot. If he took notice, he'd see that it was the very same knife he had hurled at her all those months ago. She held it aloft, toward the other approaching man. Though it hardly fazed him, the small crowd around them took notice very quickly. The room was suddenly ablaze with panicked activity. People running in every direction nearly mowed the two men over.
Megan took the opportunity to latch onto Rafael's sleeve, and tug him with her as she pushed past people toward the exit. Her plan? Get to the elevator, flee the building, and cut everyone who got in her way. Silently, she ordered her children to fling themselves at anyone who tried to block their exit. The few still tucked into her hair and hood clambered out onto her shoulders, and she set about creating a good sized lump of sticky silk on her mouth.
The doorway appeared before her as a few people dived out of the way, and one of the men from before stood blocking her exit. Both of the spiders that had been lurking out in the hall dropped directly onto him, skittering into openings of his clothing before he even realized he had company. Their fangs sank into him just as she came within arms reach, one painful bite to the back of his neck and front of his throat. As luck would have it, he reacted to the bites just as Megan threw her shoulder into his chest and barged past. They were out into the hallway, music still thumping on uninterrupted, and she could barely make out someone shouting to go after them. Two men were heading toward them at the end of the hall, blocking off the way to the elevator. She turned and darted further down the hallway, toward a single door at the end. "In there! Once they were inside, she slammed the door shut and flicked the little lock on the doorknob. It was metal, but wouldn't hold up for long against kicks and pounding. Luckily for them, Cameron didn't fancy cheap knockoffs, and a fairly heavy wooden bookshelf was sitting near the door.
It only took her a few seconds to shove it into place as a barrier between her and them. "Jesus christ... what did you do, sleep with his mom or something?!" Panting from adrenaline and the short sprint, she turned to survey the room. It was fancy, and kind of looked like a dressing room. Probably where the host of the party had gotten ready for the night. Leaning against the bookshelf, she ran a hand through her messy blonde hair and breathed out a sigh. What were they going to do now? Glancing around still, she wondered if the host would have anything hidden around the room that would help them. Maybe another knife, a gun, or a flame thrower....though, the latter was pretty unlikely... She fixed her eyes on the imposing man sharing the room with her, and frowned. He was acting a little funny... "... What's wrong with you? You should have broken all of their noses.
"Shush... if Kennith's friends see me with you, they are going to wonder where he is." And if they found him.. Ooooh boy. Standing so that he partially blocked from from view, she peered around his arm at the doorway. No one passed by, and she wasn't really sure her unwilling dance partner had heard her. It only took him a moment to turn and move toward the exit. This time though, she stayed put. Even if he left, she had more cover in a crowded, dimly lit room than she did anywhere else.
Glancing to her left, she watched the party people writhe and sway against each other to the music... and she felt a little out of place. She was normally the one doing that. Letting the rhythm carrier her off somewhere. ...Or at least she had been. She had been forced to drop of her old activities with a new identity. Which seriously sucked eggs. Turning away herself, she moved to head off deeper into the corners of the room, maybe find a booth and relax a little. But then, just as suddenly as she had grabbed him, she was jerked back toward him. Closer than she really would have liked.
"Dance."
And then he started moving. Not dancing, at least not any dance she had ever seen. Straightening herself, she arched an eyebrow at him. "...You dance like you have a stick up your butt. Loosen up a little, will ya?" Wrinkling her nose, she conformed herself to him and let the beat of the song move her, while trying to force him to do the same. Because really, if she was going to have to dance with him, he was going to have to dance right! While dipping and swaying a little, she felt the chattering of her spiders finally reach her. Only two were left it seemed, from the excited garble that reached her ears. She patiently questioned them as to what had happened, and why they had neglected to tell her about Ken approaching, and got soft, nervous reply's back. Apparently one had fallen in a punch bowl, and had been scooped up and swallowed by a party goer. Not... the best way to die. But hell, maybe he'd bite the guys stomach lining before the stomach acid got him. The other had been found lurking in a corner of the room, and had been trampled into a smear by a frightened woman. Also not a good way to die. With a small sigh, she ordered the two remaining arachnids to move in on her location and stake out the door to the dance room.
Glancing up at her dance partner, she noticed his eyes pointed elsewhere, and let her gaze follow his. They landed on a small group of people standing out in the hall. One of whom, seemed to command all of the attention. Who.. also looked like he was in the middle of a raging mid life crisis. Gold glasses? Really? Unless he was related to Elton John, that was not okay.
It did look like her dance partner was eying him an awful lot, though. "...He doesn't look like your type. Probably high maintenance too." If that guy was what caught his attention though, maybe he wasn't here just to drink and walk around in a fancy suit. "...Look, we're both here for some reason or another, so why not help each other out? Then we can go back to pretending the other doesn't exist after...right?" She kept her voice low enough that no one other than he would be able to hear her over the music.
Blinking, Megan watched as Ken toppled back, his hand sliding from her arm as the once angry man succumbed to a one hit K.O. Any shred of respect she still had left for him flew right out the window. She had always kind of figured him to be a two hit kinda guy. Tilting her head, she stepped back from him and rubbed the crook of her arm. His grip had squashed a wandering spider against her skin, as well as possibly leaving a bruise or two. With her date crumpled at her feet, she turned her eyes to the taller, more imposing man and smirked. "Never would'a pegged you as the age sensitive type..."
Her gaze shifted to the few people still sober enough to take notice, one of whom was approaching. "...Uh... Everything okay over here?" The man seemed nervous, and rightly so. He had just witnessed Vicente knock a man cold, and didn't really know what to do... other than get help, of course. He was dressed like the various servers running about the party. Megan shot him her best embarrassed smile, and reached out to lay a hand gently on his arm. "Yeah, everything's fine... my friend here, well... he just had a little too much to drink... He tried to start something he couldn't finish, you know? ...He might need an ice pack and a nice quiet room to rest in." Shooting the suit clad mercenary a quick glance, she moved aside to let the man inspect. "...Yeah, knocked clean out. Don't worry Miss, we'll take care of him. ..Hey Frankie, help me pick this guy up.." Before he left, she leaned down whispered into his ear, "...also, please keep this all on the hush hush. He's pretty proud, and this would just devastate him if it got spread around..."
The server nodded after a moment, and the two carried him off into a small side room of the bar. The rest of the occupants turned back to their conversations or drinks, and she turned back to her drinking buddy. It had looked like he had been intent on making an escape a moment before, but... now that Ken was out like a light, she needed to find a place to bunker down for a while. Otherwise, his friends would get suspicious and start something before she could hightail it out of there. When he started to leave the room, she followed. Walking quietly, peeking around the corner into the hallway, and then following some more. All the while, she tried vainly to remember what the hell his name was. She wasn't digging anything up, for some reason...
"So... uh, listen. I'm going to tag along for a bit until there's a proper chance to slip out. So just ignore me or whatever." She muttered, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she walked beside him. Glancing over at him, the side profile of his face jogged her memory enough that she finally remembered what he had called himself. "...nice shot, by the way. I bet he'll be spitting up teeth for a week." They ended up in a dimly lit room, with tables and booth seats littering the walls. A mobile dance floor had been set up in the middle of said room, and a small mass of people were boogieing and shuffling back and forth between the floor and tables. Arching a brow, she turned to glance back down the hallway- figuring she'd be able to find a less annoying room- and spotted one of Ken's friends wandering their way. Without thinking, she grabbed the big mans hand, dragging him toward the dance floor as quickly as she could.
Hmph. Well, at least he agreed that he looked ridiculous. Well, not completely. He looked better in a suit than all the lanky, hot headed goons wandering around the party. She relaxed a little and crossed her arms on the counter.
“I take it you are satisfied with Dr. Adonis’ work?”
Pfft. Was she satisfied with the Dr.’s work? ” I would have preferred not to have had anything done. This..” She pointed at her face. "..is taking a lot of getting used to." But.. hell, it was needed. Expenses aside, it was a lot easier than actually facing her problems. Gawain's words floated back to her, about not running away, and she wrinkled her nose angrily. What the hell did he know anyway? He was just some stupid kid... who thought she was friend material for some misguided reason.
She waited for the bartender to notice her, after refilling Vicente's glass, before asking for a refill of her own. It was one drink more than she had been planning to have, but what the hell? She was sitting next to some mysterious man for hire, who was at least a dozen times more interesting than listening to Ken's friends yammer on about how So-n-so didn't pay them , or how if they just had a few more guys they'd be able to claim a new district.
“Friend of yours?”
With her cup to her lips again, she arched an eyebrow and glanced over at the large man beside her. She was going to question what the hell he was talking about, when she glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of Ken stalking over to them. "Oh goddamnit!" It looked like her children had dropped the ball on warning her. She'd squish them later, as punishment...if they weren't squished already. Muttering a few quiet curses to herself, she slapped her glass down and rubbed her eyes. Makeup be damned! "Chelsey? What the hell is taking so long? I told you to get us drinks, and come straight back... Who is this D***, anyway?" The five foot eleven man squared his shoulders and looked Vicente up and down, snorting like he wasn't all to impressed. "Why are you talking to my girl, huh?"
Megan spun on her chair and glared at him. "You don't tell me to do anything, Got it?" She slid off her stool, and moved to pass him. "I'm done with this lame ass party. Ken caught her elbow on the way past, and gripped it tight. "Hold on just a second, I'm not done here." His voice was tight, and barely controlled. She glanced down at where he had a hold of her, and briefly considered reaching down for the knife she had tucked in her boot. Instead, Ken turned his attention back to the man she had been talking to. "I still have business with this sorry excuse for an old man..."
Three dark bottles were plopped down in front of her on the bar, and a short crystal cup filled with dark, bubbling goodness. She reached out to grab it, fingers tingling on contact with the chilled glass, and lifted it to her lips.
“I see Dr. Adonis’ work has yet to make your face fall off, Congratulations.”
The edge of her glass paused on her bottom lip, red lipstick smudging on a delicate imprint. Adonis...? She stared at the wall behind the bar for a few seconds, processing what she had just hear without turning her head. No one but her knew about the the face change. She had virtually dropped off the map after the... procedure, and had kept her mouth zipped tightly shut. Hell, even the people she was living with thought she was Chelsey from Brooklyn, and any "friends" she had before the switch hadn't seen her since. She considered herself more or less dead to them, and liked it that way.
Glancing over her shoulder at the owner of the comment, she gave him a swift once over, before turning her attention back to the cup in her hand. He was dressed nicely, looked clean for the most part. He didn't register in her mind as someone she knew. "No idea what you're talking about, Sir." She sipped at her glass and reached out to grab the three beer bottles. Licking rummy coke from her lips, she stood and turned to look at the man again. Longer this time.
... and she recognized him. "Aww Sh*t... it's you." The suit and slicked back hair had definitely thrown her off, seeing as the last time she had dealt with him he had been on a motorcycle, and rather rugged looking. Dropping back down onto her seat, she set the beers down and finished her own glass off in one swing, slapping the empty glass back down onto the counter lightly. She needed no further explanation on the doctor thing, as he had freaking driven her there. But him being here? That spelled trouble. Ken didn't know anything about face changes, or Megan Rova. She knew for a fact, he also didn't like being lied to. " You look like a tool in a suit." She grumbled, staring blankly at him. She was going to have to make this fast... get Ken his drink, then drag him out of the party with the promise of private time... even if she didn't intent to keep such a promise.
Meanwhile, Ken was growing a little impatient. Sure it had only been like, five minutes or so.. but how long did it take to get a few drinks? He kept an eye out for Chelsey's familiar face, and nodded politely as one of his comrades spoke. He'd give her a few more minutes, before he went looking for her. These were his kind of people at the party, sure, but that didn't put his mind at ease. Who knew who was talking to her, or.. or.. God. If he found some guy hanging on her, he'd blow a fuse...
A long black limousine pulled up alongside the curb in front of the tall, imposing building. Ice blue eyes peered out through the dark tinted window, none to impressed at the sight. Toying with her lip rings, she pursed her lips cast a flat stare over her shoulder at the man sitting beside her. "Don't give me that look, Chelsey." He threw a wily grin back at her, and patted her on the knee. "Just relax tonight and try to enjoy yourself, okay? You're always so goddamn tense." Rolling her eyes at him, she turned back to the window just as the driver stepped along side and opened her door. She had only known Ken for a few months, but it had been long enough to get an idea of what kind of person he was. He enjoyed "high class" things, ran a shoddy excuse of a "gang" and thought himself a king. While he wasn't repulsive, or a total jerk or anything, he was beginning to grate on her nerves in a number of ways. This, the "party" he had dragged her to, being one of them. "Yeah, whatever. Just keep your moron friends away from me, and I'll be fine."
Climbing out of the car, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her pants, and huffed quietly to herself. Since she had met Ken, he had insisted on dragging her around with him whenever he went out. She had gone on... blegh... double dates, tagged along when he had "business" meetings, and had allowed herself to become some sort of trophy girlfriend. She didn't mind for the most part... because, hell, she'd been through worse and looked far better than a lot of the girls she had seen hanging around his group of friends. In fact, other than his annoying quirks, he was a pretty cool guy. Perfect for protection, and great for entertainment. The only thing really bothering her other than all of this forced socialization, was the fact that he was trying to get serious with her. And that was just not going to happen. Nothing pushed her buttons more than a guy deciding when it was time for her to do the dirty, and he was treading that thin line.
"God, you are beautiful." He caught her by the elbow and wrapped his arms around her waist, smiling down at her. She merely stared back up, blue eyes locking with deep brown. "I wish you had worn something a little more formal, though. You look like some kind of gutter punk." Snorting, she rolled her eyes again. Yes, he had asked her to wear a dress... something classy. But she felt comfortable in her current clothing, and hadn't wanted to waste time or money trying to track down some slinky number, just so someone could throw up on her. Oh-no. She'd learned that lesson the hard way, after the last party he took her too. Instead, she had pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans, a white tank top, and thrown on a half-hoodie that sat comfortably on her ribs- exposing a good amount of hip and mid-drift. "Oh... come on Ken. You love the way I look." He smirked back down at her, and turned to lead them into the building.
After riding the elevator up a good number of floors, she and Ken waltzed down the short hallway toward the penthouse. Music, shrieks of laughter, and the loud mummer of voices greeted them, as well as a doorman, who... did not look like he was capable of the job. They entered with little notice, Ken scoping the crowds with a porcelain faced blond hanging on his arm. She eyed the scene as well, and was further disappointed. This wasn't a party, it was an excuse to get drunk, high, and throw your power around. None of those sounded appealing to her anymore. Gritting her teeth, she followed Ken as he strode forward, one hand out before them to politely push their way through the mass. She spotted some of Ken's friends just as they spotted him, and tucked her free hand back into her pants pockets. The three greeted each other, shaking hands and joking about crude things, and she found her eyes, and attention, wandering elsewhere.
"Hey, Chels?" Ken bumped her gently with his hip. "Would you mind going and grabbing us all a few drinks? We've got some things to talk about." Smiling sweetly, she nodded and let him peck her on the cheek. After getting directions, she wandered back toward where the bar was located, all the while thanking whatever god was watching over her for the momentary distraction. When he had a few moments, she made sure to kick a few of her children out of her hoodie. They were to find dark corners and spy on what was happening in the various rooms on the floor, and report back to her if anything started up. Mainly, if Ken was doing something fishy. Though he was calm and friendly the majority of the time, she had seen him snap into fits of jealousy before. Though... it had been kind of funny, watching him knock a few of his brothers teeth out when he had commented on one of Ken's ex-girlfriends. Smirking, she paused in a doorway and peered inside. A She found a semi packed room, with people loitering about here and there, sipping drinks and hanging on each other. Wrinkling her nose, she marched to the bar and plopped down in an empty seat a little ways away from another suit clad man, and waited for the bartender to attend her.
"Three beers, and a rum and coke." Blowing her bangs from her eyes, she shifted on her chair and adjusted one calf high boot with the other, while trying to ignore the other man at her right, who was trying way to hard to sweet talk some scantily clad girl into leaving with him. God... some people were just so obviously, painfully, desperate.