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.
Ashley didn't know why she felt so elated but she did. She tried not to show it, because she knew that a smile from her at that moment would look ghastly, what with all the blood that was probably still in her mouth. She took the clothes and went into the bathroom to change. She noticed the shower and decided a quick rinse was well in order. She'd feel a tad dirty putting on the same panties but decided that...well, she really didn't need them. With a resolute nod she was in and out of the shower in minutes, having learned to do that when she was out on the streets and had broken into the schools to use their showers.
The t-shirt was red with white stripes and was a tad too tight. The bottoms were doctor scrubs, and to Ashley they felt heavenly with how light and loose they felt, not to mention how they hung off her hips. While with Bentley she learned that tight clothes felt good, but she missed the bagginess of her old streetrat clothes. She tied up the string on the belt and tied it before picking up her combat boots and going outside. Her hair was still a dark red mess because she didn't comb it, but that wasn't anything new. She could always brush it out later. Instead she lifted it up into a ponytail and eagerly walked up to Jorge, hoping he was still smiling for her.
She blinked a moment before turning to The Doc and nodded. “Thank you, again.” she said, her voice a bit rough but still clear. “Ummm...see you. Next time, I mean. Sparring with big brother.”
“Yes, yes.” DocProf waved a hand, chuckling. “Go easy on the knees. And tell him if he wants to keep training to do it properly. His shins look like he took a hammer to them!! By god, you two will be the death of me...”
He continued to mutter and Ashley gave a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow before turning back to Jorge. “So...ummm...what now?”
Ashley didn't know what startled her more; the little lizard thing that had fallen into the blond's hair or the little blond throwing herself into Ashley's arms. But it was all instinct from here, and Ashley gathered up the little girl in her arms and held her tight. She didn't see the little lizard thing, though she did make an effort to look around for it. Whatever it was it didn't look like anything she'd ever seen before. Then again, Ashley wasn't an expert in much, much less animal biology.
The more pressing matter for the redhead was the girl in her arms. She smiled a bit, knowing that before she had run into the guitarist's arms she had put up a pretty forceful display of strength, one that even Ashley believed for a moment until it was broken a moment later. But now that she had her, Ashley really didn't know what to do. She pursed her lips, moving them from side to side for a moment before pulling the blond away and giving her the brightest smile she could, hoping to comfort the little girl.
“I'm Rhythm.” she said softly, her voice a tad lighter then before but still deeper them most females. “Your name?”
This particular jaunt to the infirmary was a familiar one for Ashley. The first time she was here was with Andrew and Lydia, after the Cafe incident with Spiky McMetalbutt. The second was with Andrew again after some sudden pains she had gotten shortly after arriving at The Mansion, pains that had sent her into a near comatose state. And now...well. That Amos person had listed all the things wrong with her, inside and out, and Ashley couldn't really remember them all.
She kept stealing those sidelong glances at Jorge, hoping for him to say something to her that would make him seem less...angry. She didn't know what do do though, nor why she sought his approval so much. She felt like, for some reason, she had let him down and he was disappointed in her. But that didn't make much sense. Ashley didn't know Jorge beyond seeing him as Santa last Christmas and then again when he was interrogating the trio of Ashley, Andrew and Lydia.
The feeling remained though, and it felt like their was a rock in Ashley’s stomach as they entered the infirmary. DocProf looked up form his desk, smiling at Jorge and then taking a look to Ashley. He dipped his head somewhat as he looked her over, making a 'tsk, tsk' noise as he stood up and took the few steps towards them that he needed to be standing in front of Ashley.
“Ah yes. Rhythm.” his voice was amused, if slightly terse, as he shook his head. “I'm beginning to see you as much as Andrew. You two attract far too much trouble for your own good. Go on now, lay on the table. I'm sure you know what's coming, yes?”
The redhead gave a slight nod and went to the table to lay down. The Doc gave Jorge a slight nod and began his procedure, healing Ashley's wounds and giving sounds of disapproval at just about every one. Ashley repeated what Amos said about her injuries to the best of her memory, including the ones on her knees, elbows and fists. She was more concerned about those, as she couldn't fight without them. When he finished with her nose he stood back, shaking his head.
“My lord. How does one person manage to do all that in a single night? I would be impressed if I wasn't so shocked.” He still stared at Ashley, who swung her legs over the table and was sitting, balancing her hands to the side of her legs and had the common decency to look cowed. “Shot, tazed, beaten...though I suppose I can't blame you for the nose.” He looked to Jorge with a wry smile before going to a sink to wash his hands.
“Sorry...” Ashley muttered, realizing she was saying that word a lot today and not liking it. “For...me. To keep coming.”
“My m'dear, it's quite all right.” The Doc responded, turning around to face her and clasping his hands behind his back. “Well, not all right, but all the same. I see you and Andrew enough after your sparring sessions as it is. You need to stop beating that boy so hard. Just because you have me does not give you warrant to making him suffer so, okay? Off you go.”
Ashley hopped off the desk and walked up to Jorge, keeping her head dipped and now avoiding his gaze. She was patched up and ready to go, though she still had that caked blood all over her face and shirt...some even on her pants. After a moment she looked up, her gaze questioning.
The car ride was silent though, and Ashley couldn't help but feel a bit disgruntled. When she thought about it, she really couldn't think of any reason why she attracted so much trouble and bullets, but there she was. She was still wearing her bloody shirt and her arms were crossed, as were her legs, as she sat next to Jorge Cervantes, the man looking sullen and, in Ashley’s mind, rather impressive in his stoic demeanor. She stole sidelong glances at him, trying her best to ignore the brace thingy that was on her nose.
“Sorry.” she muttered, her lip still a bit pouty as she looked out the window to the speeding scenery below. “For...you know.
She didn't want to ask about what Jorge did with the diamonds, even if she was curious. She didn't want to care, and stubbornly decided not to think about it. Instead she focused on the fact that she was now headed back to The Mansion, and the knots in her stomach wouldn’t let her forget that seeing Agnes there was a distinct possibility.
The redhead sighed. She was tired, ever so tired. She knew that when she got back to The Mansion Jorge was going to force her to see The Doc, and in truth she really didn't mine. She liked The Doc. He was gentle and kind and he made all the pain go away. Granted he'd have a lot to heal through this time and she hoped she didn't overwhelm him.
“Also...thanks.” Ashley sighed, head dipping. “For freeing me. I, ummm...” she made a vague gesture and gave the detective a hopeless look. In all reality she didn't know how to thank him. She just couldn’t manage to string the words together.
The redhead really didn't know what to do. Or say. Or anything.
Because at the moment she felt small. Really small. Like she was a tiny little child being scolded by her favorite parent. She backed up until she hit the table she was suppose to be sitting at and leaned back against it, resisting the urge to slip and fall to the floor. Instead she put her arms back and gripped the table tight, hoping to keep her balance as Jorge asked her, quite forcefully, to explain herself.
And so she did. Everything.
It was like she didn't know how to censor herself...which made sense, really. The truth was Ashley didn’t have much need for a censor a she pretty much said what needed to be said. And if there was something that she wanted to say but figured it inappropriate, she hid behind her apparent disability to speak well. She didn't convey complicated things very well, after all, but now, under the scrutinizing and intense gaze of one Jorge Cervantes, Ashley spilled her guts...whatever that meant.
She told him about Agnes, how she met her and how she had fallen for the mutant so quickly she didn't even know what to do as the girl had ran away. She explained he feelings of helplessness at the situation, how her body and soul seemed to burn for the girl but there was nothing she could do. Agnes had left, ran even...and had even taken her motorcycle helmet so Ashley couldn't put it on to smell her scent, as creepy as that sounded.
She explained her depression after, how she felt guilty about Bentley, how she just sat on the sidewalk and wallowed in her own self pity the entire night. How the next morning she had gotten ice cream and ran into Isabel. She explained that they had a past and how Isabel was reluctant but Ashley, so desperate for company and acceptance in something, she basically begged for Isabel to have some ice cream with her.
She went on to the cops that had shot and tazed her, how she had taken the hit for Isabel who was busy poo-poohing the people behind the register to pay attention. So told Jorge, with uncanny certainty, that there was no warning, no preamble, no nothing, just shots fired and that was that. She told him those were the first scars she got that evening, and how Isabel had beaten and killed the cops back and saved her. How she had continued to aid her as the squad cars piled up outside the parlor and shot, with no regard to the fact that Ashley was with Isabel, or injured.
The redhead babbled on about how Isabel had patched her up and fixed her, how gentle she actually was when it came to something like pulling a bullet out of her and stapling it shut. She told Jorge about the bar, Genetically Superior, and how the two just sat there and drank, not really talking but just drinking large glasses of something or other. Ashley explained how she felt better then, with the alcohol numbing her body and Isabel's sarcastic remarks.
And then she explained the veil that seemed to have slipped from her mind.
She told Jorge that it was like something in her mind shut off. At that point in time she couldn't explain it very well. She tried to come up with an example, and told Jorge it was like she knew, KNEW that something she was suppose to be doing was wrong but did it anyways. That there was something in the back of her mind that was screaming and beating on a wall that was telling her to stop but her mind and body decided that it was going to be doing it's own thing and screw everyone else.
Ashley teared up, putting her hands to her head. There wasn't anything she could do.
It was like watching a movie, she said, and she was watching someone else do all those horrible things. All the cops she had broken, blowing up the evidence locker at one of the precincts. Everything she did with Isabel, all the squad cars blown up, all the injured people. And the diamonds. The diamonds and the wake up call the next morning were all so blurry. But when she woke up she knew it all, and felt like such a failure. She ran, then, to the only person who she felt like an anchor but was also someone she barley knew; Agnes.
She even failed to find her.
Coming to the final leg of her journey, Ashley explained that the only person she knew that would most likely have a shred of mercy against her was him, Jorge Cervantes. They'd met previously on numerous occasions, and she thought, with maybe a bit of selfishness in there, that she had once saved many people by taking on the spiky metal guy and had gotten shot by his own police force in the process. She mumbled a bit at that point, but then pointed to the bag.
“I returned.” she said, her voice hoarse and scratchy. “Because...right thing. To do, I mean...” Her tear streaked face finally found Jorge, her eyes wide as a lip jutted out, unintentionally pouting as she gazed at the detective. “Forgive me? Please?”
The explosive fireballs behind them was all Ashley needed to know that whatever Isabel was doing was working. The roads were virtually deserted (for New York) and Ashley didn't have to swerve around cards nearly as much. Still, she kept a hand on Isabel's foot so the bonemancer didn't fall out of the car if she swerved too hard. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that it wasn't needed and that merely liked the contact with the brunette. Whatever, she didn't need excuses. Touch or not, Ashley was having the time of her life swerving ans dodging pedestrians and the occasional car.
She saw more police cars start to join the fray and Ashley began to laugh long and hard. She purposely swerved into a line of them, watching as Isabel's bullets tore through metal and person, into gas tanks and tires. The explosion of a nearby car rocked theirs slightly and this time Ashley really did have to grab onto Isabel's boot to keep her steady.
“Careful!!” she yelled, the huge smile she sported never leaving her face. “No falling!!”
She gunned it then, watching as some of the cop cars cut through a park and over sidewalks to catch up to them. Ashley shifted gears and slammed on the brakes, spinning them around three hundred and sixty degrees and watched, almost as if in slow motion, as Isabel's bullets tore into vehicle after vehicle, sending some swerving into their comrades while others turned so suddenly that they flipped around and around, hitting various other obstacles like benches, light poles and people.
At the end of the spin, most of the cars chasing them were dealt with, and the remaining ones were backing off. Ashley spared no time to punch the gas pedal again, careening off into the night while she laughed manically. Oh yeah, she might have actually pulled off a real life Bullet Time if she didn't know any better. She opened her mouth to say something to her lovely companion when another noise filled her eardrums, and this time even Ashley had to raise an eyebrow in concern.
Ashley happily climbed form the car, grabbing the backpack that was probably worth more then her life twice over and slinging it over her shoulder. The pack wasn't heavy, and she knew she should be more careful as The Golden Jubilee was inside, along with several other diamonds and some stature of Ra, or whatever the people on the television called it. Before she closed the door she took two pieces of kleenex and shoved them into her nose. She effectively looked stupid now, but at least it stopped the bleeding.
The redhead felt small and vulnerable in the station. With the effects of whatever was hindering her, as well as the booze now gone and the fierce backup of Isabel herself, Ashley honestly didn't know what to do with herself. She simply kept her head down and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible but knew she failed, mostly because of the amount of blood around her face and shirt. Or maybe they were looking at Jorge, who sure looked apologetic and somewhat embarrassed by this whole ordeal.
“Well now...” Ashley blinked as she looked up to see a tall black man with a bushy beard sitting at a desk. Apparently, while lost in thought, Jorge had lead her to the doctor he was talking about. Her eyes widened a bit and she blinked, looking around the room before her eyes settled back on the doctor. “Looks like we got us a broken nose. Several gunshot wounds that have been stapled shut...a whole hell of a lot of bruises...microfractures in the knees, elbows, fists...Jorge, what the hell have you done to this girl? Aren't you suppose to protect and serve? What's your excuse now?!”
The man's tone was playful and light, and it made Ashley smile a bit as the man got up and walked over to Ashley, lifting her chin and looking into her eye and ears. He nodded as if he approved of something or other before he patted Ashley on the shouolder lightly.
“Go on and sit down on the table, little girl.” he smiled brightly. “I'll be right with ya.”
Ashley nodded, agreeing but took the backpack off of her shoulder and handed it to Jorge. “Here, Santa.” she said softly. “Look, please? I can explain. Just...listen?”
>>"What are you apologizin' for? That was bloody brilliant!"
It wasn't the response Ashley had been expecting, but she took it. First and foremost she didn't want to scare the poor girl with the funny accent her first time out on a motorcycle. That, however, didn't seem to be the case. Charlie was bursting with excitement, and Ashley cold barley hang onto the bookworm before she had to let go. She missed the contact, but she smiled as Charlie went on.
>>"Okay, first off, I have to hand it to you. I didn't think that parking garage thing would work. So, props to you. Second of all, how are we supposed to get to this mansion place now? I mean, they'll have you all over the scanners for that."
“Ummm, thanks.” Ashley smiled meekly. She patted Charlie's leg to get her off the bike first before she followed, shaking out of fire red hair before pulling it back again into a ponytail. She thought about Charlie's question, her lips pursed in a cute manner before shrugging. “Walk? Not far. Uhhh...sec.”
Ashley took off her boots and set them aside before taking the zipper at the top of her full body biker catsuit and zipping it down all the way to about mid thigh. She stripped, leaving herself in nothing but lace lingerie (Bentley's choice, of course). She went to her bike and pulled up the seat, taking out a yellow sundress (again, Bentley) and putting it on. Usually Ashley wasn't one for dressed, but now and again she liked to feel girly. She just wondered how silly she looked with a yellow sundress and black combat boots on. Plus, the yellow kinda clashed with her hair.
Oh well.
After she was done dressing and putting her catsuit into the seat of the Ducati, she absentmindedly held out her hand for Charlie to hold before looking down the alley. She heard no sirens and hopefully no one would notice her after her change of clothes. At lease there was that. After a nice walk to The Mansion, and all would be well.
Some would have considered it modern art, the way Isabel was standing. Bone weapons in hand, bodies scattered all over every which way. Blood was pouring from countless bullet wounds. Her chocolate brown hair was matted to her face from the sprinklers and she was heaving, out of breath from her no doubt intense battle against the officers of the law she hated so much. Unfortunately for her, and fortunately for Ashley, the sprinklers were dousing everything in the vicinity, and Isabel's open and white (now almost clear) shirt left nothing to the imagination.
The steps Ashley took reminded her, in a scary way, really, of the ones she took back at the Sanctuary when she gathered up the bonemancer in her arms. That was then, however, and this was now. Ashley knew that Isabel was meant to be hers, and she intended to make that fact well known to the gorgeous brunette. Once she was close enough she pulled Isabel in close by the waist and planted a light kiss on her lips. She felt Isabel lean back a bit, one arm around her neck while the other hung limply. They both stopped a moment, the kiss still tingling on Ashley's lips before she went in again.
The next kiss was more determines, more dominant. It's essence seared Ashley's brain, and she knew that for the rest of her life she would always remember this one kiss, this passionate embrace and compare all that came after to it. When she felt Isabel's tongue dart out she greeted it wholeheartedly, the moan coming from her companions throat making Ashley hold the bonemancer tighter. They only stopped when breathing became difficult, and when they pulled apart they were panting.
That familiar ache came back to Ashley, it's pull tenfold whatever it had been before.
And then the sirens came.
“God damn it.” Ashley cursed, narrowing her eyes. She'd slaughter ever last freaking one of them for interrupting this. But common sense told her they had to go, and go they went. She looked to Isabel and nodded, reaching in for another, smaller kiss before sprinting back towards the Ferrari, which was still running and blasting music. She got into the driver's seat and looked to Isabel, flashing a brilliant smile. “Come. More fun.”
Luckily for her, the fashion sense that Bentley has instilled in her extended to days like this despite them meeting when it was much colder. Short shorts that exposed long, muscular legs and a top that was basically a cloth that revealed her toned sic pack, Ashley found it best to go around in her sandals as opposed to her combat boots. There was something liberating about walking around in the grass barefoot, after all. She lay on the grass and sighed, her elbows propping her up as she surveyed the area while adjusting her giant headphones.
Here she met Bentley, who changed her life in more ways then she could count. The friendship and love they shared with each other was something Ashley would always remember despite the fact they no longer saw each other...or spoke. She still missed the ballerina every day, and her heart ached for her. But she was gone, and despite longings and cravings Ashley knew it was for the better.
Here she met Kealey, who was a wonderful soul that was one of the first people to ever hear her play the guitar. Here she was encouraged to play by the pretty little blond, and Ashley was proud to do so. Here she made her run away after a small kiss, which now that she had time to look back on made the redhead laugh insanely, much to the chagrin of those that were passing by around her. The guitarist almost wished she could see Kealey again someday, just to see her blush ever so cutely.
...and here, Ashley observed with a frown, was where other, darker things happened.
The man exuded weakness from ever pore of his being, and Ashley felt an instant dislike for him. He was leaning on a tree, observing a small girl nearby, with a hand in his pocket that was making quick, jerky motions. Ashley didn't know what he was doing, but the look was something she had encountered far too often in her younger days as a streetrat. His slimy hair and shallow gaze, stubbly beard and baggy clothes...Ashley snorted as she got up and began her trek to him.
He never heard her coming, of course. That was her intention. And she never gave him a warning. A simply jerk of the collar and a hand on the back of the head that slammed his face against the tree was all she needed to get his attention. He cried a bit, bit with a bit of added pressure (her songs were making her stronger) he quieted down quickly, much to Ashley's pleasure.
“Little girls huh?” she snarled after a moment, twirling him around and throwing him to the ground. “Leave. See here again...kill you.”
The man scampered off, tail between his legs and blood down his front. He looked back periodically as he stumbled off, Ashley eying him the whole time. She knew she wasn't the smartest girl in the world, what with her lack of education and all, but that was so bloody obvious she had to check her gag reflex around such a scumbag. Briefly she wondered if Andrew and/or Jorge was rubbing off on her, but she dismissed the idea. She was so much cooler.
The guitarist looked back to the young girl and smiled. Well, maybe she could say hello or something. The young blond wouldn't know what Ashley had done for her, but the very least the redhead could do was make sure she was okay. With that settled, Ashley trotted over to the young woman, stopping a foot away before waving.
“Hello.” she said, her whiskey on the rocks voice rumbling a bit deeper then intended. “You okay?”
By the time she heard the door open, Ashley was asleep. She really couldn't help it. She was weak from slight dehydration and the heat was murdering her on the spot. In times like this, when she couldn't control the environment, she did the only thing she could; she slept. Back when she was homeless, Ashley would find the nearest dry sport during rainstorms and just sit there, hoping to pass out to wait out the storm. It worked, most of the time (except during winter), ad this time was no exception.
When the door clicked, so did her memory. Jorge!! That was his name!!
So when Jorge finally got into his car, the redhead woke up all the way, her sleep somewhat light, light enough that she was aware of her surroundings. When he turned on the air conditioning she was prepared to set up an altar to Jorge, worship Jorge and convert to Jorgeology. But she didn't have time for all that. She needed to unload all this crap onto him, and she needed to do it fast. Without thinking (a common ailment in Ashley's life) she grabbed the sides of the front seats and pulled herself up, ready and willing to give up millions upon countless millions of dollars so she could have just one more chance with that one girl.
Only to have an elbow meet her face.
Her nose, actually, was the first thing that met said elbow, and she felt it crunch under the powerful blow of Jorge Cervantes's might. She fell back on the seat, clutching the broken cartilage and groaned. Well, there was probably some god out there that was laughing at all of this and, personally, Ashley couldn't blame them. It was probably the least she deserved after her actions, so a little broken nose wasn't anything to worry about.
>>“Rhythm? Are you kidding me? What’re you doing in here?”
The guitarist gave a little hand wave, just to let Jorge know she was all right...despite not asking if she was. Ashley attempted to talk, but the overflow of blood was just to great. One of the bad thing about broken noses; their bled like crazy. She lifted up her shirt and plugged her nose, hoping that would stem the bleeding for a little while while she spoke.
“Santa. Ummm...” she started out, sounding alien and deadpan with her nose plugged. “Explanation? For...my actions? Listen, please?”
She sounded like a idiot with a mouthful of duck. She hoped Jorge understood.
Ashley felt as if she were in an oven, baking in a desert. She wanted to badly to get out of the car she was in but knew that doing so would be a mistake. After all, it wasn't everyday that someone broke in to a police car, right? Not that anyone could tell; it looked fairly normal but Puck had seen her target get into the car several times in the time she spent stalking him. And not, she'd finally gotten in, and she was going to deliver him a huge surprise.
Not like she had a choice.
Then again, her morality was pushing her to return the stolen good she possessed. Plus, she was holding what was possibly one of the most expensive pieces of loot in the history of the world; The Golden Jubilee, on loan to the American Museum of Natural History from the King of Thailand himself. Or, so Ashley had found out later, as she really didn't care at the time she had taken the diamond, thinking only 'oooh, shiny' as she took it. But from what she heard on the news, it was worth up to twelve million to the right person, possibly more.
Now, that was tempting. Ashley had never seen what twelve million dollars looked like, nor had she ever dared imagine what it would be like to have that kind of money. But in the end, the one thing that prevented her from selling it...was Agnes. She didn't think her Ladybug would appreciate it if Ashley were to be caught with such a valuable object and would probably object to being lavished with as many gifts as Ashley would bring to her. Agnes, at the very core of her being, was a nice, pure girl. Ashley would do anything to protect that.
So, she forwent the money. She didn't want to get scolded, after all. And most of all she didn't want Agnes to be disappointed in her. The thought alone sent rocks to the pit of the redhead's stomach and it made her feel sick. With that train of thought settled, Ashley tracked down and stalked the only person on the police force that (it seemed) hadn't shot her yet; Santa Cop.
She knew his name. Somewhere in her mind she did, but right now, overheating as she was...he was Santa Cop.
And so Ashley laid back into the car of one Jorge Cervantes, holding a backpack of loot that was probably worth several million more then she'd ever know, and waited for him to finally get into his freakin' car.
>>“Touch my tail? I guess if you want to, just don’t tug it alright?”
Ashley could barley contain her glee as she reached out and touched the tail, tentatively at first but then began a steady stroke of the waggling appendage. She didn't know why this brought her so much pleasure, but it did. It suddenly made her want to pet the woman herself, but she didn't dare ask. After all, the redhead considered herself to be stock full of common sense. And while Emerald seemed friendly enough (despite the punching) she didn’t wanna push her luck.
“Soft.” she murmured, tilting her head a bit. “Very soft...”
She lost herself in the stroking of Emerald's tail. She was beginning to think that every part of Emerald was soft, from the parts she'd accidentally groped to the fluffy tail that protruded from the woman's back...behind...whatever. She didn't know how tails on people worked, after all, and really didn't plan on asking Emerald about it. Still, she looked up, her hand resting on the base of the tail, gently squeezing and petting it. She couldn't help but think that maybe Emerald was enjoying the attention to her tail a bit too much, and the though didn't bother Ashley as much as she thought it should have. She was, after all, petting a tail. On a woman.
“You're...mutant, yes?” Ashley asked, looking back down to the tail to avoid Emerald’s intense and piercing gaze. “Ummm...puppy mutant, yeah?”
