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.
Posted by Gina Schuyler on Jul 18, 2017 9:41:10 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
palevioletred
pansexual
taken - by nessa
1,265
196
Apr 25, 2024 23:12:30 GMT -6
Sophy
Most of Richard's explanation went right over Gina's head. She didn't know what a "sieve" was. But apparently that went over your cup, and the use sweet and condensed milk... So was it a sweet drink? The gargoyle puzzled over the mysterious beverage, her face puckering contemplatively. She didn't have too long to think about it, however, because Richard replied with a question of his own.
"Oh, no," Gina said, shaking her head, "Too much caffeine makes me twitchy."
She'd tried coffee, once, after an all-nighter. She was shaking for the entirety of her three hour lecture, fighting chills and on-edge. Never again.
"I'm more of a, uh," the gargoyle's tone dropped bashfully, "Hot cocoa person."
Given Gina's small stature, such a confession ran the risk of infantilizing her. She loved hot cocoa, though-- she couldn't drink coffee, and wasn't a fan of tea. She paused at the corner of their block, waiting for the signal to change in their favor.
"I'm a full-time student," Gina said, in regards to Richard's second question, "But I also, uh... sew on the side, for money."
So the bouncer wasn't exactly the most observant man on the street-- either that, or he'd seen enough sh** to call the hyenas what they were. Regardless, Primal dismissed them without much protest, and the two young men meandered inside. Primal asked where they would choose to sit-- in a corner where they could kiss, or in the open where he had to behave. A smirk curled at Khalil's lips, and he leaned close to Primal's ear. With the thud of the bass gradually enveloping them, it'd be hard to hear each other over the noise. It also gave the demon an excuse to draw closer.
"You didn't strike me as the shy type," Khalil teased, murmuring into Primal's ear. The taller of the two nuzzled his companion, before releasing his arm, waving for Primal to follow. If Khalil wasn't already there, he's have this young man wrapped around his finger by the end of the night.
"Come on, hot stuff," Khalil beckoned, "The fire's over here."
Khalil didn't care who saw them-- quite the contrary-- he wanted everyone to see him. Him and his gorgeous friend, Primal. Especially if they started kissing. The firepit was dropped down from the bar itself, encircled by a marble tabletop for patrons to set their drinks upon. This table was encircled by plush, red couches, perfect for anyone who might be a few drinks in to partying. In its own way, the fire pit was private, enclosed by walls and a few bar-height tables-- an intimate setting, which the two young men might have to share with a few other people.
Thankfully, there was an open couch. Khalil descended down the first few steps, extending a hand towards Primal.
"They usually send a waitress around to take orders," he advised the smaller man, ready to lead him down to the level of the fire and towards the sofa with their name on it.
Gina nibbled away at her ice cream, sighing at the idea of such a job.
“That would be the dream,” Gina murmured, “But then we might start hating ice cream.”
Her mom had always regaled the days of working at a pizza place and, after returning home with the scent of pizza clinging to her pores, she’d grown to hate it. In fact, for the first few years of Gina’s young life, her mother wouldn’t even touch the stuff. She’d munch away at a salad while her children enjoyed the feat. Though “hating ice cream” seemed impossible, the gargoyle feared that a dark day such as that might one day come.
The gargoyle was delighted when her friend agreed to walking. Good! The wind in her hair might shake-free any brain-addling thoughts. The two returned to strolling arm-in-arm, each enjoying their respective ice-cream cones. The gargoyle’s eyes wandered along the boardwalk, straining towards brightly colored buildings in the distance, drinking in the people around them, while listening to Nessa talk. She recalled Nessa mentioning that she was a New York native.
“Native to the City, or to the State?” the gargoyle queried, before taking another thoughtful lick of ice cream. It was a fair question—some people were from upstate, and vehement that there was “more to New York than the city”.
“I actually grew up in a coastal town,” the gargoyle admonished, smiling, “A tiny place on the North Coast called Mendocino. Very pretty, very touristy.” Gina chased a dribble of ice cream that was starting to dribble down the cone, “I’m not much of a swimmer, but I was definitely down by the water a lot. My favorite thing was to fly out to little islands and pretend that I was the queen of them.”
And there were always plenty of rocky outcroppings to speak-of. Mendocino was on a ridge above a small bay, after all. Not at all like the sandy, people-filled beach along which the boardwalk ran. It was quieter. Dotted with redwoods. Covered in fog. It was strange to think of how different two beaches, two oceans, could be. Gina smiled, realizing that she’d gotten lost in thought.
“Gosh, I’m sorry,” Gina chirped suddenly, shaking her head, “It’s so easy to get nostalgic.”
She loved the city, she really did... but that didn't change the fact that Mendocino was her home.
Posted by Gina Schuyler on Jul 17, 2017 0:39:12 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
palevioletred
pansexual
taken - by nessa
1,265
196
Apr 25, 2024 23:12:30 GMT -6
Sophy
“Once or twice,” Khalil grinned impishly, “Come on.”
Truth be told, he’d been there more than a few times, always lounging by the fireside (where it was warmest), and always on the lookout for good company with which to fill his idle hours. It attracted a lot of mutants, this humble little club, and a lot of people looking for a good time. This would be the first time he actually brought someone there with him.
The two walked arm-in-arm down the dark and muted streets. There was very little foot traffic, and the chill seemed to cling close to the two young men. Though Khalil had a sneaking suspicion that the wet shirt was partially to blame. In no time, the two of them were arriving at the club, serenaded by a steady bassline and tranquil techno music, neon lights glaring down at the two wayward men. The door opened, letting the heat of bodies close together drift through the doors, accompanied by a greater magnitude of music, of chatter, of laughter.
“Does this club seem like it’s your speed, Primal?” Khalil asked, lightly squeezing the smaller man’s arm. With Primal’s affirmative, the two of them would begin to cross the threshold—that is, until the bouncer would address them at the door.
“Hey… no pets allowed. The dogs need to stay outside…”
Khalil glanced towards the hyenas, then towards the nearsighted bouncer, before settling his amber eyes on Primal. He hadn’t thought about his friend might do about the hyenas.
Khalil toed sand over the small bonfire, squelching-out the flames. Smoke meagerly swam skyward, the final cough of surrender. Now in the wee light of the hastily-setting sun, the two dimly-lit figures stood. Khalil extended his free hand, crafting a ball of fire in his palm, bringing some light back for them to see by.
>> "Can we fly? I might be your mirror, but it doesn't come withs a manual."
“I can fly,” Khalil remarked, his tone genuine as he circled behind June, his brows stitched, “I don’t know if you can…”
Her wings looked big enough, but… whether or not the appropriate musculature was there was open to debate.
“If you open your wings,” Khalil explained, fanning his own wings as he spoke, “You will notice that they are like a bat’s, yes? And bat wings are very much like a person’s arm and hand, just… deformed.”
He’d never taught someone how to fly before, so he was trying to explain the best he could.
“What you’ll want to do is bend your knees, and then jump with all of your might,” he continued, “As you do this, you’ll beat your wings once, to get off the ground… if you can. Like this…”
Khalil bent at his knees and, like a coiled spring, launched off of the ground, beating his wings once. The force carried him about ten feet into the air, but he did not continue sailing upwards. Gravity carried him back down, his feet making contact with the sand and sending a wave around his feet.
"It's like... stretching your arms out wide, and then snapping them downwards. Like... swimming?"
He wasn't a very accomplished swimmer (that is to say, he didn't swim at all), so Khalil was mostly just looking for a metaphor rather than speaking from experience.
“If not…” Khalil offered, “You look small enough. I could easily carry you.”
>> ”Mmm, I can definitely approve. It’s like the ice cream version of a bubble bath.”
Gina nibbled her ice cream cone contemplatively, muttering the phrase, “Bubble bath…” to herself. Bubble baths were comfy and quiet and soft… and so was the ice cream!
“I can see that!” the gargoyle agreed, rolling her lips together appreciatively, “Totally bubble-bath-y.”
Nessa offered her cone in-turn.
>> ”Fair is fair! Unless you don’t like chocolate, of course. Which would be fine. It’d just mean maybe you aren’t the perfect woman like you’d have me believe.”
The corners of Gina’s mouth crinkled in a smile, a faint lavender flush rising to her cheeks. Perfect woman??? Sure, she was outgoing, but even a compliment as off-the-cuff as that one could take a gargoyle by surprise.
“I-I’d have to be a heathen to say no to chocolate,” the gargoyle recovered. She leaned forward, taking a modest lick of Nessa’s chocolate ice cream. If Gina’s ice cream was a bubble bath, Nessa’s was a bucket of water over the head. A rush of rich flavors, an assault on the senses, but in a good way. The gargoyle closed her eyes, righting her eyes, savoring her taste.
“That’s rich,” the gargoyle finally commented, opening her eyes, “But awesome.”
She returned to her more staid ice cream, hoping to quell the blush in her face with the dessert before her.
“Do you wanna cruise the boardwalk, see what’s around while we eat?” the gargoyle asked, “Or go back and sit?”
Even though Gina had returned to her own ice cream cone, the after-taste from Nessa's was still kicking. It left a strong impression, much like the older woman who it belonged to.
The gargoyle’s tail gave an excited shiver when Nessa declared ice cream to be an acceptable food and led the two towards the truck. In fact, the tail continued eagerly flicking as the two queued up and surveyed the menu, which proclaimed the flavors and various dishes available. Of course, there were the usual flavors—cookies and cream, chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, mint—but there were some more unique ones as well. Gina fell behind as Nessa stepped-up to the window, absently rummaging for her wallet while she continued reading the board. The unique flavors were also of interest, but if those were a bust, she always had the classics to return to.
>> ”Your turn, Genie. And her order? It’s on me, too.”
Gina’s tail paused in its excited flick and curl, and she looked at her friend in mild alarm. At this point, she’d managed to fish her wallet out—a long, blue canvas wallet with a repeating pattern of two otters holding paws.
“Oh gosh, are you sure?” the gargoyle asked, gaping, “I mean, it’d be no trouble-“ to pay for herself, that is, “-and I was going to get a double scoop, I’d hate to impose.”
She stood rooted in her spot for a few moments, her tail resuming its idle flick and curl as she returned her attention to the menu—oo! That looked pretty yummy… she shuffled towards the window, her wings fluttering slightly.
“May I please get the honey vanilla lavender?” the gargoyle asked, resting her taloned hands on the metal surface outside of the window. Her wallet was still in her grasp as she step aside for Nessa to pay.
“Thank you so much,” the gargoyle said graciously, smiling. She was used to money being tight (as a college student), and each paying their own way when it came to outings. As such, when someone offered to spring for food, Gina was deeply appreciative. It took a few minutes for the attendants to scoop the ice cream, but soon enough they were poking their head out the window and offering two ice cream cones, one of a definitively chocolate variety, and the other the white-gold of vanilla. The two girls eagerly took their cones.
“Thank you!” Gina said, surveying the work. They weren’t stingy with their scoops, she’d give them that. Two meaty scoops stacked on atop the other in a waffle cone, with flecks here-and-there (Gina assumed theses to be lavender).
“Cheers,” the gargoyle said, before taking a lick of ice cream. The flavor was incredible—predominantly vanilla, but the honey gave it a sweet kick. The lavender underlined, but didn’t overpower, the ice cream as a whole.
“Nessa, you have to try this,” the gargoyle said, her tongue chasing after a budding ice cream mustache. Gina held the cone out towards Nessa, who'd paid for it after all, adding-on, “It’s amazing…”
The gargoyle also surveyed the lines of restaurants, the wealth of options that lay-out before her overwhelming the gargoyle with choice. Her penchant for having a sweet tooth made the candy shops particularly appealing, but candy wasn’t exactly “substantial” food. Though the smell of freshly-made taffy was hard to ignore…
>> “Ginaaaa. Food truuuuck.”
“Food truck?” the gargoyle echoed, snapping to attention. Despite having lived in the city for over five years she had, admittedly, never gotten food from a food truck. They weren’t exactly common in a small town like Mendocino, where there was no commuter traffic to speak of, so it hadn’t occurred to Gina to ever try them. Why not try today? Besides, Nessa was already leading her over towards them.
There was a small box of brightly-colored food trucks, each touting a decal that proclaimed what foods they had to offer. Some of the trucks had music streaming from them, while others simply had the attendants poking their heads out of high-up windows, addressing the patrons below.
>> “So many options! …I mean, if this is cool with you.”
The gargoyle smirked at her friend, still wading about in all of the smells and sights and sounds. Her tail swished contemplatively, curling from one side to the other while she thought.
“There is a lot to choose from,” the gargoyle agreed, “But it’s totally cool with me! I just… have to decide?”
She had to go with something safe. The last thing she needed was to eat a bad burrito and spend the rest of her day out with Nessa ill. From this distance, she could only see the names of various trucks and illustrations. Maybe Nessa had sage food truck advice? Gina gasped and her tail paused in its casual flicking. Her eyes befell a pastel-colored truck, which touted an adorable ice cream decal on its side door.
“Ice cream,” Gina whispered, looking towards Nessa. It was definitely warm enough for ice cream. But was it late enough in the day? The gargoyle was of the mindset that it was never too early for ice cream, but she didn’t want to seem too childish, particularly in the company of her older friend. The gargoyle rolled her lips together, continuing to skim the collection. She had to find at least one lunch-like thing. There was a place that sold sandwiches! Sandwiches were pretty good… right?, "Or maybe sandwiches?"
The corners of Gina’s eyes pinched—not in a smile, but in grave understanding. Her mouth tugged at one side. Rehab. At least that was “help”, but that meant that some sort of substance abuse was at play, and that type of thing was never easy. She couldn’t even bring herself to say anything when Agnes confessed that she didn’t know what to do. Gina was in no position to tell Agnes what to do, beyond what she’d already said… and even the gargoyle wasn’t so vindictive as to say, “Be there for her.” That was a no-brainer.
Gina was also inspecting the table, her brain working through the gymnastics of associating with Agnes, Rebecca, and Vanessa. Agnes was her sister, so despite the bumps in the road, the gargoyle would try to make it work. Becca was also a dear friend. But Nessa… Nessa hadn’t done anything wrong, had she? Maybe she had, but Gina wasn’t aware of it—so that meant—well—hanging out with Nessa wasn’t a bad thing. The gargoyle rolled her lips together, the urge to say something churning in her throat. Agnes beat her to the punch. She was gathering her things. She wasn’t finishing her drink?!
>> ”I’m sorry. I…It’s probably best for me to just go.”
Gina also rose—her food, her drink, was finished—there was nothing really tying her to the table anymore. She could respect her sister needing space. That’s just how Agnes was. But she couldn’t just leave like that. Gina was grabbing her bag as Agnes was already making her retreat.
“Agnes!” Gina said urgently, wrestling with the strap that’d gotten stuck to the café chair. She freed the strap and jogged after her sister, “Aggs, hold up!”
When Gina caught up, the two were crossing the threshold to the street. The gargoyle grasped for her sister’s hand, hoping to hold her still for just a moment. She’d let Agnes run, but she’d be damned if her friend ran forever.
“Aggs,” Gina said, straightening herself, “Th- this is gonna… take time for me to process. Okay? A-and yes, I am disappointed, but I know you’ll do the right thing. ‘C-cuz you’re not a bad person. Okay?”
It had to be said. Gina would do anything to make sure her sister didn’t beat herself up too much over this, though they both knew she probably would, at least a little. She probably already was. Gina wrapped her arms around her sister’s waist, constricting her in a hug.
“So I’m gonna let you go,” Gina said… though she wasn’t letting go, yet—she was still holding-on, because she still had things to say, “And give you your space ‘cuz I know you need it.” And maybe Gina needed it, too, but Gina was focusing on her sister, “Just don’t, like, be a stranger. Okay?”
Posted by Gina Schuyler on Jul 12, 2017 11:38:03 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
palevioletred
pansexual
taken - by nessa
1,265
196
Apr 25, 2024 23:12:30 GMT -6
Sophy
"Easy there, tiger," Khalil grinned, "The nature of our pact was that you were going to buy me a drink."
Oh yes, Khalil was playing into the whole "devil imagery" thing hardcore. But it was working, wasn't it?
"Then we can see about apartments and other frivolities," Khalil assured Primal, the word "frivolities" rolling off of his tongue with every ounce of insinuation that it deserved. They were coming towards the edge of the park, now, and were greeted by the steady stream of traffic of a New York street.
Khalil slid his hand around Primal's forearm, his eyes skimming for street signs. Given his... penchant... for going-out to clubs, he had a fairly extensive working knowledge of good places to go for a drink.
"I think there's a place a few blocks down," Khalil purred, "With big, comfy chairs and a fireplace?"
Primal was a few inches shorter than Khalil, the demon noted as he turned to Primal for his vote on the proposal. Unlike Khalil, however, he was muscle-strapped and solid. Khalil, all the while, was tall and thin.
The gargoyle interrupted her face-rubbing to take another long sip of her mocha. Once consumed, she breathed a sigh-- both regaining her breath and mulling over what Agnes was saying. River suspected something but didn't know exactly what was going-on. And Agnes couldn't tell her because "she was going through a lot".
"Aggs," the gargoyle groaned. She fully understood the wanting to handle the collateral. Hell, in the few break-ups Gina had experienced, she did her best to let them down gently, too. She had even managed to keep a few of her ex's around as friends, but... well, she never cheated-on any of those ex's.
"Is she getting help?" the gargoyle asked gently. That was the social work major side of her speaking. If someone was going through a lot, whatever that entailed, they needed help. She took another sip of her mocha, cradling the mug in her hands. There was maybe a sip or two left in the mug. The gargoyle rocked her hands back and forth, causing the mocha to swirl around in the mug. Part of her was inclined to keep venting, but truth be told... they were still in a cafe, and Agnes was still her sister, and Gina felt like she was being fairly overt about her opinions of the whole thing. Though she wasn't saying anything, her reactions and body language communicated surprise and disappointment.
"You need to tell her," the gargoyle reiterated. She was sure her sister knew that, "You owe her that. When the time's right."
How could Agnes disrespect River like that? Sure, River hadn't exactly been the nicest person at Gina's birthday party... but no one deserved to be betrayed like that. It was totally selfish. Gina took another sip of mocha, letting a silence settle there. How did you move-on from a revelation like that? Returning to small talk felt so... disingenuous. The gargoyle realized that her gaze had fixated on a spot on the floor. She let her eyes wander back to Agnes.
Posted by Gina Schuyler on Jul 12, 2017 10:54:07 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
palevioletred
pansexual
taken - by nessa
1,265
196
Apr 25, 2024 23:12:30 GMT -6
Sophy
The gargoyle quirked a smile at Richard's breathless retort. She could respect mindfulness such as that.
The swampish heat of the day was fading fast, which made pho sound more and more appealing. Richard quickly yielded to Gina, and the gargoyle shook her head. She wouldn't have suggested it if she didn't want to eat it.
"Pho sounds awesome," the gargoyle assured him, "Follow me~"
It was strange walking freely in front of Richard, rather than linking arms-- Gina felt untethered. Guys were sometimes weird about being chummy with newfound female friends, however, so Gina swallowed the feeling. She hooked her thumbs in the pockets of her high-waisted jeans, inhaling the cool night air.
"What's Vietnamese iced coffee like?" the gargoyle asked the man behind her, "I have't had it before... is it different from normal coffee?"
Gina was the sort to be content with water or tea, at the pho place. The last thing the gargoyle needed ws more caffeine.
Posted by Gina Schuyler on Jul 11, 2017 23:33:09 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
palevioletred
pansexual
taken - by nessa
1,265
196
Apr 25, 2024 23:12:30 GMT -6
Sophy
The gargoyle tilted her chin at Sam, "I think I can handle myself."
She could control whatever Sam was implying by "oh, but I have a girlfriend" nonsense. He was a former teacher and, although a good-looking former teacher, it would be too f***ing weird to even think about him like. And as per the whole "you couldn't deal with me" schtick, what was he going to do? Attack a volunteer on school grounds, over contraband? That'd go over well. Unless he meant "you couldn't haul my drunk *ss up the stairs if I passed out", in which case Gina would just fetch someone else.
So perhaps she was getting a little worked-up. Thankfully, Sam yielded and began trudging towards the stairs. The querrelous gargoyle followed dutifully behind him. Sam threatened detention if she called him "Mr. Johnson" one more time, and the gargoyle quirked a smile.
"As you wish, Mr. Sam," the gargoyle teased, ascending the stairs. A silence stretched between them but, even when annoyed, the gargoyle didn't handle quietness well.
"What've you been up to?" Gina asked, out of the blue, "Besides today, I mean. In the grand scheme of things. You have a girlfriend now?"
She didn't remember Sam having a girlfriend when she was a student.
Gina was all smiles as Nessa agreed with the motion, particularly over the "sleeping buddy" comment.
"I've been told that I am a pro cuddler," the gargoyle said cheekily, attributing her supreme cuddling skills to the reason she was such an estemed "sleeping buddy". The gargoyle had a woven bag full of essentials, which had not been deposited upon the towel, but kept upon her shoulder. She eagerly trotted after Nessa, looping her arm through the taller young woman's. Her free hand, all the while, rested on the same arm.
"If it's anything like carnival food, I am so down for it!" the gargoyle agreed, pointing forward, "Lead the way!"
The pair picked past similar towels and blankets, sunbathers and sand-castle builders and various players of games alike. Gina relished the hot sand beneath her toes, and the cool arm that was interlaced with her.
"I'm so excited," the gargoyle confessed, for perhaps the twelfth time that day. Excited to be there, excited to be there with Nessa, excited to finally be going to boardwalk. Just. Plain. Excited!!!
Closer to the boardwalk were rows of beach volleyball courst, lines marked in the sand by ropesfastened by stakes with loops on the top. The two girls expertly found their way between two games. Now the boardwalk loomed immediately before them, a fantastic construction of giant logs. A sand-caked stairway was immediately to their left, one of many that interrupted the uniform line of the boardwalk.
"What kind of food are you feeling?" the gargoyle asked Nessa, since it was her proposal to begin with.
Gina, ever at the whim of her sweet tooth, was ready to stuff her face with cotton candy. But given how early it was in the day...
Despite this rational realization that it was early in the day, Gina's eyes wandered the pier on their own, skimming for the cloudlike shapes of cotton candy.
Posted by Gina Schuyler on Jul 9, 2017 21:58:41 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
palevioletred
pansexual
taken - by nessa
1,265
196
Apr 25, 2024 23:12:30 GMT -6
Sophy
Khalil's eyes widened at the declaration and the hand in his own. She wanted to steal something... to make a statement. Khalil watched her, his new fellow demon, with unreadable eyes. A hesitant smile spread over his features.
"I thought you said you were a good girl," he chastised, giving June an aimless twirl. When they were facing one another once again, he pursed his lips ponderously. He wasn't a thief. He was an arsonist. Both required a certain degree of stealthiness, but one was usually done in the dead of night-- while the other was committed in garish fluorescent lights. His eyes wandered over June... his mind had been wandering towards drinks and good company, but--
His smile grew more fiendish, and he planted a kiss upon June's knuckles, "But, if the lady commands it... so it shall be!"
"...do you think we're done with the fire?" he asked June, collecting the portable speakers and toeing at the sand. Should she agree that they were done with it, he could kick sand over the smouldering timber, plunging their cozy spot of beach into the chill of almost-set sun.
"What sort of demands do you have in mind, O Captain?" he purred, surveying her with round amber eyes.