The X-men run missions and work together with the NYPD, striving to maintain a peaceful balance between humans and mutants. When it comes to a fight, they won't back down from protecting those who need their help.
Haven presents itself as a humanitarian organization for activists, leaders, and high society, yet mutants are the secret leaders working to protect and serve their kind. Behind the scenes they bring their goals into reality.
From the time when mutants became known to the world, SUPER was founded as a black-ops division of the CIA in an attempt to classify, observe, and learn more about this new and rising threat.
The Syndicate works to help bring mutantkind to the forefront of the world. They work from the shadows, a beacon of hope for mutants, but a bane to mankind. With their guiding hand, humanity will finally find extinction.
Since the existence of mutants was first revealed in the nineties, the world has become a changed place. Whether they're genetic misfits or the next stage in humanity's evolution, there's no denying their growing numbers, especially in hubs like New York City. The NYPD has a division devoted to mutant related crimes. Super-powered vigilantes help to maintain the peace. Those who style themselves as Homo Superior work to tear society apart for rebuilding in their own image.
MRO is an intermediate to advanced writing level original character, original plot X-Men RPG. We've been open and active since October of 2005. You can play as a mutant, human, or Adapted— one of the rare humans who nullify mutant powers by their very existence. Goodies, baddies, and neutrals are all welcome.
Short Term Plots:Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
The Fountain of Youth
A chemical serum has been released that's shaving a few years off of the population. In some cases, found to be temporary, and in others...?
MRO MOVES WITH CURRENT TIME: What month and year it is now in real life, it's the same for MRO, too.
Fuegogrande: "Fuegogrande" player of The Ranger, Ion, Rhia, and Null
Neopolitan: "Aly" player of Rebecca Grey, Stephanie Graves, Marisol Cervantes, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, Sabine Sang, Eupraxia
Ongoing Plots
Magic and Mystics
After the events of the 2020 Harvest Moon and the following Winter Solstice, magic has started manifesting in the MROvere! With the efforts of the Welldrinker Cult, people are being converted into Mystics, a species of people genetically disposed to be great conduits for magical energy.
The Pharoah Dynasty
An ancient sorceress is on a quest to bring her long-lost warrior-king to the modern era in a bid for global domination. Can the heroes of the modern world stop her before all is lost?
Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
Adapteds
What if the human race began to adapt to the mutant threat? What if the human race changed ever so subtly... without the x-gene.
Atlanteans
The lost city of Atlantis has been found! Refugees from this undersea mutant dystopia have started to filter in to New York as citizens and businessfolk. You may make one as a player character of run into one on the street.
Got a plot in mind?
MRO plots are player-created the Mods facilitate and organize the big ones, but we get the ideas from you. Do you have a plot in mind, and want to know whether it needs Mod approval? Check out our plot guidelines.
It was one of the many things Rhythm actually enjoyed about her being a con artist. The different mix of personalities the thief had been exposed to allowed her to get a feel for many different people. Her training in The Cat's Paw was diverse and vast, and most of it didn't even begin until Rhythm could learn to exchange a dozen or so words before deciphering the personality and disposition of her current target. And while Rhy liked to think she was accomplished in her art, she knew she was far off from being any sort of 'Grand Master'. But, really, one of the easiest emotions to read was hurt and guilt. Two things the redhead before her had heaps of.
Of course, Rhy also knew that the one thing that separated your average, low brow con artist with one of her caliber was presentation. Well, among other things, sure, but presentation was a big one. If you looked and acted the part, no one had trouble believing you. With her altered looks and exotic red eyes, there weren't many that Rhythm had encountered that questioned her background at all. And now she 'acted the part', butt scooting a tad forward in her chair as she leaned back, her pose comfortable though her eyes were predatory and slightly narrowed. The brunette listened to everything the redheaded minx said, savoring the accent as if she could taste it.
“Meh?” Rhythm waved a hand in a dismissive motion. “Not much ta say, gal lovely. Jes like ya, had mah date canceled. She...ahhh...well, guess she decided she loved 'er husband afta all.” A beat. “But dat be neitha here nor dere, Firefly. Ah'm guessin' yer hungry an' ah can't beh assed ta go lookin' fer anotha pretteh lady ta keep me company fer dah night. So...yer it. Doubt ah could find such elegant company anywhere else, if'n ah could be honest. Least none with sucha radiant smile...”
Rhythm yawned loudly and stretched, garnering a few stares as she smacked her lips and then slumped back in her chair.
Yeah, the DMV. No one could ever find nice things to say about it. Like, ever. She only knew this because while Syn was sleeping (and Rhy couldn't) she'd gone on the internet and looked. Like, LOOKED. Google couldn't find jack crap and when Google was shaking it's head at you...well, you know you were boned. Like the library at Hogwarts. If it wasn't there, it didn't exist. Or Dumbledore banned it.
She was even halfway through The Goblet of Fire, a book she had started that morning when she'd come in 'early' to the DMV to get her motorcycle registered. She didn't want to, but she had been coerced by a illegal maneuver from Syn in the form of a Puppy Dog Pout so adorable it actually hurt to look at. Rhy attempted to huff for only a few moments before she'd snatched her leather jacket from a chair (and the Goblet of Fire from the desk) and stomped out. She wasn't really angry, but there were so many other things she could be doing!!
Like Syn!!
But no, no. No. No. She was stuck at the DMV and halfway through one of the largest books in the Harry Potter series, all because Syn thought getting her bike registered was a good idea. What did registering it even entail? Rhy wasn't good with any real 'legal' aspects of...well, anything. Considering her profession she probably should, but if the time ever came the thief was pretty sure her comrades in The Cat's Paw would bail her out. Or Syn and her Amazing Sexiness, which Rhy was positive was actually her mutant power.
Breathe, in, breathe out. The brunette took a moment to look outside of the DMV window wall to see a redhead laughing manically. She blinked slowly, her mind trying to catch up with what she was seeing before the image transformed. In fact, the entire scenery did, and suddenly she wasn't at the DMV anymore. She was back in New Orleans, and the redhead that was laughing was...well, still laughing, but now her eyes were locked onto Rhythm's own.
“Come, little birdie!!” The redhead purred. “Lesse just how much pain ya can handle, eh?!”
Rhy took no notice of the rest of her surroundings and instead launched herself at the redhead, recognizing her as one of the many trainers she had while training with The Cat's Paw. She was an expert in pain and how to manage, deal and most of all, inflict it. The sessions she had with Rhy were memorable only because of just how unique they were, and just how much that bitch enjoyed her work.
“Neva again, Melony.” Rhythm growled, not even for a second realizing that at the moment, she was nothing but a normal human being with no power coursing through her veins. “Ya will neva touch meh again!!”
Ah, such a sweet accent. It fit her too, Rhythm thought, her head tilting sideways as she licked her lips unconsciously before sitting down. She took a moment to cross her long legs, hoping that the young redhead across from her didn't notice the fact that she wasn't wearing any undergarments. She did have a stash in the car, sure, but she didn't think it would matter. Besides, the cougar she was meeting here didn't want Rhythm to wear any panties, and who was she to argue with that? It was a strange request, as the thief never had any sexual encounters with any of her marks, but her cougar didn't bother to explain and Rhy hadn't bothered to ask. Though it did tickle her that Rebecca here didn't even bother disputing the fact that the date that was suppose to be here was, in fact, a she.
Blood red orbs locked onto mismatched blue and green, and Rhy flashed her most charming smile in an effort to make the woman across from her a little more comfortable. Part of her training in the Cat's Paw was her social ability, and Rhy was pretty happy with how far she'd come from the stuttering state she'd been in for years while living on the streets, barely being ale to communicate much of anything.
“Ya done got tha most stunnin' eyes ah've eva seen dere Firefly...” Rhythm stated, trailing off as she enjoyed said eyes and slightly narrowing hers in mirth at the redhead's obvious discomfort. The thief winked before she took a small glass of water that was in front of her and took a delicate sip. “So, tell meh 'bout yerself, gorgeous. Dun be leavin' nuttin' out, cause Rhythm wants ta know how someone could leave a pretty lil morsel like you high an' dry.”
Rhythm leaned her head back before slowly falling back to the bed, Syn attached to her neck as her counter-attack was probably leaving a bigger mark then Rhy had managed...even though she'd only gotten a small taste before Syn had taken the upper hand. Which was good...great even. Rhythm loved the feeling of someone that knew what they were doing and encouraged it, her hands gripping Syn's hips before they snaked up to her lower back, then up and around to her firm, sexy stomach.
“Stop...”
Wait, what? Rhythm's eyes snapped open as all activity stopped. It took a moment, but the thief suddenly realized that the word that had made this extremely hot and comfortable atmosphere had come out of her mouth. She swallowed hard, though her hands were not softly kneading Syn's sides. Rhythm moaned softly as Syn dragged her tongue across the abused skin of her neck, her lips cracking into a small, crooked grin as Syn seemed to observe her work and give a satisfied purr before she pulled up. Their faces were inches apart, and Rhythm couldn't help but stare into the eyes of the woman above her.
“Ah...ah think we should slow down ah bit...” Rhythm began, feeling as though she were sounding like some nervous teenager having her first time with someone much more dominating and...experienced. “Been in a fight an' all...gotta clean mahself up, savvy? So...ya got a shower ah could use? 'Sides, dere be a few cuts dat da docs din' get. Could use some cleanin' out. Ya tink ya could help wit dat?”
>>[/b] “I’m glad you like my room, but I don’t help out very many people and even less in the manner I have with you. So yes, you’re special.”[/i]
“Ah'm glad...”
It really was the only response she could muster. Any higher brain function, at the moment, seemed to be unobtainable. Left behind was instinct and want. That instinct made Rhythm narrow her eyes slightly in greed, her crimson eyes wandering about the face and neck of the woman before her. The silence that was between them seemed...comfortable, considering their situation. Rhy's hearing only picked up the sweet melody of the soft breaths of Syn, the almost inaudible purr that she was emanating from the back of her throat, the sexy brush of tongue across lips, and the want suddenly roared, making the thief shoot her arm out to wrap behind the gothic woman's neck and pull her in close.
Syn, apparently, had the same idea as they both met in the middle, lips pressing softly, exploring scent and taste together. Rhythm's body protested then shut up as both sides of her consciousness, oddly enough, had nothing to say. In fact, all sound seemed to have vanished and left nothing but two women who's pants were audible, filling the room as Rhythm further explored the woman in her arms. Syn was on her lap now, straddling her in a position most would consider intimate but barely bothered the thief as her tongue and lips found the sweet scent and taste of Syn's neck. She felt the need to mark it, to ward off intruders.
Her teeth bared and they nipped the side of Syn's neck, almost as if asking permission to inflict this small amount of pain if only for the greater pleasure of their current experience.
Unless, of course, the target backed out. As long as the illusion as still up, it hardly mattered. Rich people weren't as tricky as they thought themselves to be, and even if one housewife found herself in love with her husband all over again after all these years, it didn't mean that the marriage wouldn't fall apart all over again. The cougar that Rhythm was currently playing kitten to had just informed her, however, that their...'arrangement' was going to be cut off, though Rhythm was thanked for her time and company. Rhythm herself was polite, her tone still calm and sweet despite being slightly irritated that she was dressed up with nowhere to go. She sat in her car in the parking lot, lips pursed and twitching from side to side in an irritated manner as she looked in the huge glass window of the restaurant. Not five star by any means, but the woman wanted to keep their 'arrangement' low key, and this was a spot she liked.
Rhythm climbed out from the car (one of the many from Sanctuary) and stood up, her tall five foot eleven stretching out slightly as she did so. She smoothed the almost painted on black dress down her front and back, the slit coming up to her thigh on the left side making a toned, muscular leg stick out in a teasing manner. The dress was suppose to seduce and entice, to draw attention to the flat six-pack Rhy was so proud of, to her ample chest. Her snow white skin made her stick out more, her piercing red eyes still looking through the window as she stalked towards the restaurant until her eyes settled on the thing she'd been hoping to find.
Prey.
The thief brushed her hair back, the silky gloves that adorned her arms going to her elbows feeling soft and smooth against her face. Ruby red lipstick was a must for her, as it matched her eyes and contrasted so much with the rest of the outfit that Rhythm found people usually stared at them as opposed to the cleavage she was showing. And while Rhythm was rather proud of her body, she was most proud of the long legs that carried her. She tried to balance out the need to feel feminine with her need to train in her martial art style, and needless to say that balance was hard. But if the amount of looks she was garnering were of any indication, Rhythm figured she was doing a good job on that front to. She appreciated the attention, of course, but ever since Syn had come into her life it hardly mattered. Not anymore, anyways.
“'Scuse meh, Firefly...” Rhythm purred out, her New Orleans accented voice sticky like honey as she stopped in front of the pretty little redhead that was sitting all by her lonesome. “Ah dun suppose dis seat be taken, non? Judgin' from da look on yer face, ah'm guessin' dat whoeva ya was suppose ta beh meetin' done canceled. Maybeh...maybeh ol' Rhythm can beh takin' her spot, ya?”
“Business.” Rhythm nodded professionally, willing her blush to subside in her haste to make less of a fool of herself. “I, uhhh...entertain.”
It was semi true, anyways, in the sense that she was probably entertaining Echo with her stupid antics. She felt tiny compared to this woman, and the feeling was quite thrilling. Rhy's profession made her prey on those with weak minds and heavy hearts that wanted to be slathered in attention and praise. The gothic girl had a strong pose, brilliant eyes and a voice that demanded answers while lulling those it spoke to into a false sense of security. Like honey it oozed over Rhythm, enticing her with it's sweet scent and texture. But like so many flies Rhy was caught before she knew what was happening, and part of her wondered if she even cared.
Still, though, there was a job to complete.
“Though mah job here be complete.” Rhythm nodded, loathe to leave the gothic woman's side, she took a step, then turned back and gave a rather corny, toothy smile. “But...if'n ya be needin' mah services, cher, I'd beh happy ta...accommodate ya.”
“Ah've been bettah.” Rhythm answered honestly, barley taking in the room at all before she crossed it and flopped down on the offered bed. It felt like heaven covered in marshmallows...or some such oddly formed thought pattern that made sense now but probably wouldn't later. “Mah head be killin' meh. But otha then day? Meh...ah've taken worse beatins, ta be honest. Bruises an' shit ah can handle, so no worries dere. It's da blood loss dat's da killah.”
She almost immediately wanted to fall asleep, what with being mostly comfortable and all, but despite her sleeping pose here eyes were still locked on the the person that had dominated her thoughts for the better part of...well, seemingly since the first moment Rhythm laid eyes on her. She moved gracefully, like a cat coiled to spring on unsuspecting prey and the thief couldn't help but lick her lips when eying those long, curvy legs. Her Rational Side rolled it's eyes, the voice sounding suspiciously like a redhead she met at The Closet so long ago. Her Absurd Side scoffed and pushed towards trying to get at the treasure this woman held, though that side sounded suspiciously like Rhythm's own voice. She wondered what the hell that meant.
“Ya got nice digs, princess.” Rhythm spoke, her normally deep voice (for a female) coming out a bit huskier. “Dis where ya bring all da girls ya help out? Or am I special?”
Yo. Rhy reporting in. Haven't been on that much the past few days. Well, diabetes of the type one nature rears it's ugly head. I have an infection in my blood that's making my blood sugar keep keep going up. Despite this, I'm actually doing okay as this isn't the first time it's happened. The last time I was sick it happened as well, so we knew what to expect. I should only be in the hospital a few days this time as opposed to a week, and thank the gods for great medical insurance.
This, of course, affects Rhythm. Apologies for the delays in my replies, and I'll get to them ASAP when I'm out in the real world again.
She loved being warm, that much was true. But in the years since the world had gone to hell, Rhythm found that the warmth provided by her darling wife was probably the greatest feeling in the world. Their...'interaction' in the hallway had left them both quite cold until but also sore. Syn, being a little whiner when no one was looking, had poked her lover in the side until Rhythm had finally relented and gone to their room for a blanket that most would have killed for (and probably have) in this day and age. Soft, heavy and warm, it covered them both completely. Rhythm had gone to point out that she could have just carried them to the bedroom and come back for clothes later, but Syn hand waved that aside and went on being the little spoon, much to Rhy's amusement. A small kiss, a little nibble for added naughtiness, and Rhythm found herself rubbing her nose into the back of her wife's neck, loving the skin to skin contact.
And the warmth. Always the warmth.
“Love ya, cher.”
Saying 'I love you' came easier then it had back in the day. It was mostly Rhythm's fault, her disbelief that someone like Syn could ever love her preventing her from really enjoying the times they spent together. But something had triggered Rhy's brain into finally being fully operational, and she'd clung to Syn's love ever since and refused to let go. It was only that love that had kept them sane in the aftermath of the end of the world, that love that had kept them strong. There really was little else that Rhy fought for, expect maybe her little sister, but family was family in the end. And as the sweet darkness of sleep overtook them both, Rhy clung to her wife just a little harder.
She sauntered back into the lobby, secure in the knowledge that, despite almost being killed by a sleeping Isabel, she'd gotten the mission done. And it didn't matter how stupid it was now, because it was done and the only thing she needed to do was walk back out of Sanctuary and into the open world where she could get these stupid panties delivered to her client and this whole entire thing she could chalk up to 'just another day in the life of Ashley Aran'. She felt emotionally exhausted, though the whole ordeal had taken only a scant few minutes (minus the walking there and back), and Rhythm was looking forward to going home and watching Dr. Who on Netflix.
...except her way was barred by Sex and Sin.
She hadn't thought that they'd still be here and for the first time in...well, ever, Rhythm was cursing her ability to get in and out of target areas with the quickness of a ninja rabbit. Lisa was back at her post as well, but she was hardly a problem compared to the two other females that seemed to be talking serious business if their facial expressions had anything to say about it. Well, except for just now, when Sin's face lit up with what seemed to be a rather artificial smile at something Sex had said. Rhythm frowned at that, her mind immediately noticing just how fake it looked. She was positive that most others wouldn't even notice, not considering the current dress of the woman before her, but Rhythm noticed.
>>[/b] “I believe you forgot to put something back on my dear.”
It took the thief a moment to realize that her feet had automatically taken her to the women she'd been trying to avoid in her escape from Sanctuary. But now she'd taken notice, and now she was blinking as if surprised. The gravitational pull the gothic looking woman had on her was quite alarming, but Rhythm fought it, instead berating herself on leaving the evidence of her time spent in Sanctuary hanging out of her back pocket. The blush came full force though, and the only thing that came to Rhy's (slightly addled) mind was to save face and deflect notice.
“Well, sometimes business be pleasure as well.” Rhythm's deeper voice dipped lower as her eyes noticeably wandered over the woman's enticing body. “Ah'm sure ya understand, sugah.”
The trip back to...well, wherever was quite the blur. All Rhythm knew was softness and a gentleness rarely shown to her since her previous time in New York, before her whole mess in new Orleans. It was a rather nice change, something she could get used to. And while she knew it wasn't the time for it, the smell coming from the softness that was enveloping her was...intoxicating. Like if someone managed to take a warm summers night and make it into a fragrance, then added just the tiniest hint of chocolate and lemon drops...well, it was a rather odd combination but not an unpleasant one. In fact, it was this very smell that pulled Rhythm from her rather confused state and focused on the woman that was holding her.
The ride going to their destination (whatever that was) was spent with Rhythm looking upon the gorgeous face of Syn, the very reason Rhythm was out at a bar in the first place. Not the best of second impressions (was there such a thing as a second impression?) but Rhy took what she could get. Her mind was fuzzy though, and as much as she wanted to reach a hand up to brush some of the other woman's hair from her face and comment on just how entrancing she was. Rhy's current lack of motor skills and oatmeal brain would have probably made for am embarrassing scene...like accidentally poking Syn in the eye. Not wanting that, Rhythm merely went along for the ride, even letting her Spiritual Other guide her to the infirmary and get her checked out.
The flurry of motion was quick and simple, the doctors and nurses there probably far too used to such occurrences to be surprised or alarmed at the state of Rhythm's being. Rhythm herself was far too used to such things, remembering her trips to the infirmary in the X-Men Mansion when she'd helped her brother Andrew and Lydia fight off some human that had taken too much of that drug...then being shot. Oh, and her surrogate father breaking her nose. Though Jorge had apologized, but that still didn't stop Rhy from thinking about it every now and again and chuckling.
Through her blood loss, Rhythm had been in and out of consciousness throughout her treatment, and eventually things calmed when it was determined she didn't have brain damage or was suffering from any of her wounds. Her blood was restored somehow (mutant healer; can't live without them!) and her bouts of sleep ended when she awoke to find the soft, sensual, heavenly lips of Syn on hers. The thief's mind blanked for a moment as she closed her eyes before they snapped open again, her blood red orbs locking onto those entrancing forest green ones for only a few moments before Rhythm swallowed.
“'Eh love...†the con artist slapped on her most charming smile...as much as she could while still looking like shit run over twice from her bar fight encounter. “Ya din even buy meh dinnah first. I'd feel all offended, but ah'm thinking ah could prolly recover jes from yer kisses alone.â€
Nervous, sure. One didn't walk into situations planning on throwing their lives away, o course...not unless that was the intended purpose. Rhythm knew that, sometimes, she would be...apprehensive about something, and not look forward to doing it. It came with the territory of being a con artist. A thief too, but mostly it was the con that made Rhythm...shall we say, twitchy. There were a lot of things to remember when it came to cons, and having your whole tale straight was only just the beginning. Remembering mannerisms and thought patterns, what to say and how to say it. Clothing, walking, how you kissed...and that was just the beginning. The actual execution of these skills outside of a controlled environment was nerve wracking. But that...that was small potatoes to her current situation.
The events leading up it were ordinary. The trip to Isabel's room was quick, uneventful. She'd heard tales of the bonemancers room being guarded but at the moment there wasn't anything hindering the thief's way inside. He informed her that the camera that were in Sanctuary were more clustered in the 'high risk' areas of the place, focusing around the entrance, vehicle bay and the like. It was pretty easy to walk around the place after her exit from the bathroom, though her mind was still more then a little focused on the woman she'd left behind. She didn't even know their names and it was crazy how...invaded her mind felt. And while Sex was hot, no doubt, it was Sin that grabbed her attention in a vice-like grip. Rhythm did always like her more gothic girls, after all.
Such thoughts flew from her mind as she approached Isabel's door. She stood back around the corner, looking at the (thankfully) empty entrance as Echo reiterated the fact that Isabel wasn't in the building and was spotted somewhere downtown murdering some poor hapless folk in the park. The police had been dispatched as multiple calls were being taken about the entire situation. Well, thank the gods for small favors, right? Rhythm breathed a little easier, but the art of her being light on her feet was still so ingrained into her body that the steps she took to that (somehow imposing) door were quick and silent. She felt like there should be music, but that was silly. Of course there should be music, but at the moment she felt as if such a thing would disrupt her super sneaky ninja walk to Isabel's door.
She slipped inside easily, and closed the door gently. She turned and looked about the room, admiring just how little it's changed since she was here last. The place screamed the personality of the woman who owned it, and Rhythm didn't even bother to stop the smile that came to her countenance when she thought of that first, impassioned kiss she laid on the smaller woman's lips. That led to a whole other slew of problems, but Rhythm didn't want to remember those memories. She liked Isabel, she just wasn't fond of her murderous attitude towards...well, everything. She took a step in, sniffing slightly and holding it in. There really wouldn't ever be a chance like this again, and a (very) small part of her was glad to get this opportunity. Isabel was a good memory for her (which most would call her crazy for), and to be here again, if unknown, made letting go of the fact that they could probably never be friends, no thanks to her own disappearance when she went to New Orleans. Their last...'adventure' was one for the record books, after all.
Rhythm slowly walked along the room, her eyes adjusting to the dark rather quickly. She looked for anything that would resemble a clothes basket, something to hold laundry when it was ready to be done in whatever fashion the people in Sanctuary do it. Her eyes fell on something by the bed and she smiled. She took a step forward, her foot brushing against something on the floor. A slight tilt of her head off to the right and down showed that it was a small stuffed animal that looked to be impaled on a bone spike. A small “huh” escaped her lips, barely audible, when a nanosecond later a bigger 'WHOOSH' made her freeze, barely allowing herself to breath.
There, on the bed, was Isabel. Her arm was extended out, looking as if she had just thrown something, her eyes wide open and looking, staring right into Rhythm's red orbs. A thousand, million excuse and reasons flew to Rhythm's head as those hard chocolate orbs froze the thief on the spot. Nothing came out, her throat seemed to refuse to form coherent words in any fashion. For almost a full on minute, Rhythm was a statue, and it was only at towards the end of that minute that she started to wonder why Isabel hadn't said anything yet. She certainly wasn't one to beat around the bush or be, you know...subtle. Rhythm was pretty sure that if she looked behind her she'd see a large bone spike protruding from the wall. Her look of confusion was priceless, and said confusion only increased when Isabel's lidded eyes closed and, with absolutely no grace to speak of, flopped back on her bed and began to snore.
Rhythm sagged, emotionally exhausted after having to endure such an ordeal. So, Isabel was here. Also, she apparently stabbed things in her sleep. That didn't surprise her, though her very presence did. She seethed for a moment, seeing red before she managed to close her eyes and calm herself down. The soft whisper of static in her ear told her that Echo was trying to get through to her, and after eying the still snoring Isabel, Rhythm slowly tapped the device behind her earlobe. Echo's voice came through loud and clear, though thankfully only Rhythm could hear it.
'Oh...hey Snow...' he sounded nervous. 'I'm...I'm kinda glad you picked up. See...as it turns out, and this...this is just crazy, turns out Isabel isn't out there doing anything.' A beat. 'Ummm...far as I can there was some kinda flash mob that decided that would be funny. Gored themselves with pig blood up and such. Someone reported a woman who looked like Isabel running away. And, you know, it's kinda funny when you think about it, right? Cause, like, that happening right when this is going on...just, so odd, ya know...Snow? Hey, you there Snow?'
Rhythm breathed in deep and clicked her com device off. She didn't have the time to deal with him because when she did...well, her choice words would probably make the most hardened marine blush. She waited a moment, then two before she let herself start to breath normally again. The telltale sign of attempted communication, the soft sound of static, didn't come again. Echo was probably looking for planes out of the country. Despite his being in New Orleans he knew that Rhythm would come for him. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow...
The thief reached the basket and fumbled through, Isabel's face not far from her own. She stood up a moment later, a ruby red pair in her hands and it was only now that she had the thought of bringing gloves. She controlled her breathing still, slowly letting it in and out, the pace of it making her lungs beg for air. Her eyes fell on the person she once had a ginormous crush on and smiled. Some said that people looked peaceful when they slept, almost content with the world as if all their problems were off in another land. No so for Isabel Duskmoor. She looked just as angry and irritated asleep as she did awake, and the various holes her blanket had told Rhythm that in no way possible was Isabel a cuddler. Shame, really...she looked so small (despite being only just slightly shorter then Rhythm herself) that the thief could only imagine her being the little spoon.
When she finally closed the door behind her, Rhythm breathed easy, deeply. She was lightheaded, her vision swam but she was alive. No thanks to that bleein' idiot Echo, but enough of that. She needed to get the hell out of here. She stuffed the purloined panties in her pocket haphazardly before soldiering back to the lobby. Maybe she'd catch a glimpse of that smoldering hot gothic girl before she left. At the moment she would settle for undressing her with her eyes and watching the porn they made inside her head before she left for home.
All this...for panties. Seriously? There were times when Rhythm wondered why she even bothered.
>> "You shouldn't be here?? Hell, I shouldn't be getting drunk, nor should I be kissing a very hot woman who is about ready to hightail it outta here!"
Conflicting feelings were dumb. They were all...conflicty and such, and it made the pleasant numbness that Rhythm had acquired from alcohol seem such a distant memory. She wanted nothing more than to go back and slam a couple more drinks down her gullet in an effort to push more of Syn's visage from her mind's eye, but her actions had startled her new friend. Understandable, yes. Another pang of guilt, this one like a spear to her side, as the thief thought back to Agnes and, now, a person who was obviously looking for some form of comfort. It wasn't much to ask for, not really, and while Rhythm didn't feel obligated to fulfill that need, she still felt guilty for kissing and running.
“Hey...hey!!” Rhythm was interrupted (rudely) by another bar patron, this one who just happened to start up a song on the modernized jukebox that was right by the bar and change machine. He was a respectable looking person, a businessman that was looking to unwind, but at the moment he look slightly flustered and red in the face. “Lookit here...just cause you're all fancy dressed and such don't mean ya can go makin' out with random women. Take that dyke shit somewhere else, okay? Please?”
Rhythm tilted her head, the song the man had going on the jukebox (“You Shook Me All Night Long” by AC/DC) filling her up with untold strength, her spine tingling from the sensation. She grinned, the song bringing back memories of times with Bentley when the two felt like bouncing on couches and making love for endless hours with this very song on repeat. And while she was contemplating this, her foot (without permission from her mind) took a step forward, then another. And something in her posture, the anxious look in her blood red eyes, or maybe the feral, wild crooked grin that was plastered on her face made the man back up and his friend, a group of four others, stand up at the same time. It looked rehearsed, staged and Rhythm couldn't help but bare her teeth, a step turning into a small leap forward as her fist crashed into the offending man's face just as the guitar rumbled into the song. He never saw it coming, though, and he was out like a light before the first verse even started.
The other four jumped into action, oddly unafraid of the woman that had literally sent their comrade slamming into a wall from just one punch. Rhythm obliged them, taking care to dodge and play with her food before throwing out elbows and blocking sloppy punches. An art was there, she saw, those these weekend warriors didn't know what true martial arts looked like. Rhythm did, though, and she barely even felt the connected hits when they came. Even when they surrounded her, she pulled her punches to keep them from collapsing instantly. Brian Johnson's vocals kept Rhythm's soul afloat, and even when the felt a bottle crashing into the side of her face while three came at her front, she barely winced.
It was a flurry of fists, knees and elbows that laid out the rest, though by that time others had joined in. They didn't even direct their anger towards Rhythm, but it seemed as if a match was lit and the dynamite had just exploded. A patron came at Rhythm, a big guy who was fast for his size, his fist uppercutting and hitting Rhythm square in the stomach. The air left the thief's lungs, though the punch that came next was blocked by her body's muscle memory then by anything resembling rational thought. She flung the offending appendage aside and snapped an elbow forward and crashing into the man's solar plexus, the blow leveling the big guy with all the power Rhythm could muster at the moment. It wasn't much, being inebriated, and while she had a free moment, the woman reached behind the bar and took a bottle of something clear and chugged it before tossing it behind her back. She saw someone lumbering towards Kitra, and half a moment later Rhythm was on him just as he grabbed her arm. She expertly twisted the hand that had dared touch the redhead and pulled him forward, slamming her now bloodied face into his nose, sending him to the floor unconscious.
“Enjoyin' da night, cher bebe?” Rhythm asked as another bar patron stumbled into them, Rhythm's foot easily pushing her back and into the chaos. “An' as a token fer ya puttin' up with a scoundrel like meh...ah'm a woman. One tha's spiritually taken, ah'm afraid.” Rhythm took a moment to put down several more offenders before twirling to Kitra, grabbing her hand and kissing it gently. “Ah'm afraid it'd neva work, dahlin'. But maybeh ah can help you remember dis night when yer at home all lonely-like and hungerin' fer somethin'...different.”
Rhythm lifted the smaller woman up and planted her butt on the bar and dove into her neck, licking it a bit to savor the taste and smell (natural scent, though sweet, like honey) before she clasped her hands to the other woman's face, holding her still as she kissed her deeply. The music disappeared for the moment, even as Kitra's legs wrapped around Rhythm's trim waist, the passionate embrace ending only when Rhythm felt some of her blood mingle in with their kiss. She pulled back and licked her lips, unbothered, before she swept Kitra up easily, bridal style, and nodded to the bartender.
“Put it on meh tab dere, Yogi.” Rhythm winked. “An' if ya send some kinda legal bull mah way, ah'll be comin' back ta break ya. Savvy?”
She didn't even wait to get an answer as a foot shot up to push several people that were in her way. They all tumbled aside like dominos, and Rhythm swept from the bar just as the song ended. She carefully maneuvered Kitra out and onto the sidewalk before setting her down when they were a full block away. When a sudden wave of dizziness made her stumble, Rhythm set the redhead down gently before holding out a hand to lean against the brick building thy were by.
“Wild, huh?” Rhy winked at Kitra, hoping the crooked smile on her face was charming enough to offset the among of blood that was now covering her white suit. “Not usually like tha' girlie, believe meh. Kinda needed ta unwind, dig? Get the jibblies outta meh and get mah mind back on track. Bein' spiritually taken though...lemme tell ya. Takes it outta ya. Food dun taste right, colors be lookin' duller. Should be a sin lookin' like she does. Heh...sin. Get it? Cause thas' her name. Heh...”
Well frak. Blood loss. Scrambled mind, rambling thoughts. Never a good thing.
“Do Rhythm a solid, sweet thang, and get on da horn and fetch us a ride.” Rhythm slithered down the wall, holding a hand to the sticky mass on the side of her face with a sigh. “Dun think ah'll be here much longa. Talk ta me, 'kay? Just fer a bit till help comes.”
She knew that, somewhere deep down, she was hoping for a different kind of fade to black, but that seemed just a bit out of the question. Performance issues and all that.
