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.
Paul had to laugh as he pulled back his arm and wiped the coffee drops off of his sleeve. He probably deserved that sort of comment especially since he had breached the lines of etiquette quite blatantly. It probably wasn't the nicest way to introduce himself but it was definitely a good way to break the ice.
As she admitted that he was right in his assumption Paul simply smiled to himself and took another swig of his coffee... unfortunately it was also the last bit of liquid in his cup. Looking down into the now empty vessel he found himself scowling every so slightly. He had almost gotten rid of that horrible taste and feeling in his mouth but not quite. He normally only drank one cup of coffee at a time but in this instance he was probably going to make an exception.
"I'm Dr. Lana Than. I see dead people, and to avoid looking crazy in public I pretend to talk on my phone. I thought you were dead. You look like someone who is dead. Er... no offense ...and you are... a mutant with the power to cheat death? be reborn? resurgence? Maybe one who'd forgotten his manners about meeting people?"
"Well normally forgetting my manners only happens when I meet someone that thinks I'm a ghost." Paul replied with a twinkle in his own eye, "And it's nice to meet you Dr. Than. Excuse me just one moment."
Standing up from the table Paul made his way back over to the counter to order a fresh cup of coffee. After a few moments he held the fresh, hot, life giving brew in his hand and made his way back to the table for the young woman.
"Doctor... and you work for the NYPD. I would guess that means you're either some sort of forensics analyst, psychologist, or profiler." Paul stated before once again cleansing his mouth with a sip of the steaming liquid, "As for me I define myself as a Phoenix. The mythical story of the bird that dies and is reborn in flame and ash is true in my life."
Leaning back in his chair, Paul looked at Lana closely. He was not a professional profile by any stretch of the imagination but over the course of 90 years he had picked up a few things. The hint of weariness and tiredness around the eyes combined with the stack of files that had only moments before been on that table allowed him to make a few assumptions.
"And you are an overachiever that pushes herself to hard to accomplish her goals. You struggle to make meaningful connections with people for some reason, probably due to your mutation, and you've just picked up a new room mate." Paul observed thoughtfully, "You make your cases extremely personal probably because you often get to know the victims even though they've already passed on. Sound about right?"
"Look buddy... I can't help you. All I can do is see and hear you. I'm not some medium." The woman spoke in a low voice like she was trying to keep any one else from hearing. Without even realizing it Paul found himself quirking an eyebrow ever so slightly. This was probably the strangest introduction he had ever had and most definitely not what he was expecting.
"I feel for you, I'm sorry you died. But you gotta understand how much this happens to me. I just can't go out running every errand every ghosts sends me on. If you wanna cross over or whatever, you're going to have to figure out what it is that's keeping you here."
"At the moment you're what's keeping me here." He spoke with a warm chuckle in his voice. For most people this would be an extremely disconcerting experience that would make them just turn and walk away but for him it was just another day. He was a thief, murderer, wizard, victim of execution, but most of all he was a Phoenix. Each rebirth gave him a chance at a new start so why should a "seer" cause him concern?
"There's really nothing else I can do. Have you figured out yet if you're tied to this spot or can you leave?"
For a moment Paul just stood there but then something occured to him. Casually he sat down and set his coffee on the table then with a quick easy movement reached across and snatched up her cell phone and her cup of coffee. He knew the shock of his actionns would only paralyze her for the briefest of time so he scanned her recent call log while taking a sip of her coffee. Instantly his mouth was coated with the fattiness of milk or cream and filled with the sickly sweetness of far to much sugar. Immediately his expression changed to one of distaste before he set both the coffee and the phone back in front of her.
"Wow... would you like some coffee with your cream and sugar there red?" Paul said before taking a large gulp of his own coffee to try and clear out the cloying sweetness that seemed to linger, "I've died from carbon dioxide poisoning, breaking my neck, and being burned at the stake along with quite a few others though I'm not dead at this moment though there must be someone here that is because you were not just talking on your phone. Last call was at least an hour or two ago not 2 or 3 minutes.
Giving her a moment to process what had just happened Paul took another swig of his coffee. Grimacing he looked into his cup and tried to decide if there was enough there to finish washing away all the sugar or if he'd need annother cup. How could she even stand to drink that stuff?
ooc: Don't worry about the text color. I'll switch over to red for now.
The black coffee had the strong bitter notes that helped Paul to center himself as he sipped at it. There were lots of people that didn't like the strong concoction or only liked it after they had loaded it with lots of cream and sugar but for Paul the heat, bitterness, and earthy notes were like a soothing balm. They connected him to memories of the past while still anchoring him solidly in the present.
"Look, baby, I just can't make it tonight." A blond headed man was doing his best to talk quietly into his cell phone but sound still carried quite well in the coffee shop. "She's out this afternoon but she'll be back this evening and we're supposed to have a family dinner. You know I can't do that... with the prenup we would end up with nothing."
Shaking his head ever so slightly, Paul rolled his eyes and then slowly scanned over the rest of the shop. Why men would get married and then still maintain a roving eye was still a constant source of amazement. He had never been married himself but anytime he had been in at least a semi-stable relationship he had been completely faithful. Lumen had been his most recent but circumstances had conspired against them. Being burned at the stake for some sort of crime had made Paul have to go on what the Australians liked to call a "walkabout". While he had been gone a case had gone very wrong for Lumen and she had been forced to leave New York. Sipping his coffee again, Paul grimaced at the sour taste in his mouth though he had to admit that it wasn't from the coffee. If he had been here to help her then Lumen might not have had to leave but he had been so focused on his own problems that she had been forced to handle things on her own.
Trying to not think about such things Paul once again looked around the shop. Most of the people were rather uninteresting but then another cell phone conversation came to his attention.
"I've got my patients to worry about, and now the NYPD are talking about handling that mutant killer case off to the FBI because it's looking bigger and bigger."
Mutant killer? Now that sounded interesting. Looking at the woman with new interest Paul took another swallow of his coffee as he gave her a quick once over. Nice reddish hair, freckles... probably some Irish in her gene pool somewhere.
"For friendship. You know friendships don't come easily to me. I have a lot of baggage with my mutation and well... you. Noel wasn't scared off by any of that. I need a friend, Laura. You know this."
And there was the connection. Apparently this young woman was a mutant of some sort. It seemed like you couldn't toss a rock in New York City without hitting a mutant and baggage seemed to be par for the course when it came to them. Paul knew that he had more than his share after the many years that he had lived.
Looking down into his coffee cup, Paul gently swirled the liquid, watching the tiny whirlpool that began to form. It would be so easy to just sit here and ignore what he had heard. Sure he was alone in the city but he had lived that way for many years in the past so why shouldn't he do the same thing again? But then again if he went up and said hello what was the worst that could happen? The woman told him to buzz off and left him alone like he was now?
Finally making up his mind Paul rose smoothly to his feet and walked over to where the red haired woman was sitting. Offering her quick smile he motioned toward the empty chair at her table. "Hi, I'm Paul McCoy. Would you mind if I joined you?"
Posted by Phoenix on Dec 6, 2013 20:39:32 GMT -6
Lana likes this
Gamma Mutant
280
1
Apr 11, 2014 12:58:23 GMT -6
Rain and snow... it wasn't exactly the best weather to be returning in but then Paul had never been one to worry about the weather. Walking down the street with his shoulders hunched ever so slightly and head bent down against the weather, Paul's mind was slowly turning over what things had been like the last time he had been in New York. The weather had been very similar though it had only been snow, no rain. He had been enjoying the company of a nice young woman but as with so many things in his past he had thrown it all away for no real good reason. His thoughts were tinged with just a bit of melancholy as he turned up the collar on his leather jacket to help protect himself from the outer cold though nothing seemed to help warm up his feelings on the inside.
"Two years..."
Pausing on the street Paul lifted his head slightly and look toward the building that had once been his favorite bakery as well as his home. The apartment above had been a cozy little hide away but since his departure the bakery had apparently gone out of business and the building now stood vacant and empty. Gone were the warm ovens and inviting atmosphere leaving behind cold and dark emptiness. A mirthless smile touched his lips as he shook his head and then turned to continue his stroll down the street.
"It's amazing just how fast things change."
There was no warm homecoming waiting for him on the cold street of the city. No special friends he knew would opens their doors in welcome at his arrival... no cozy little corners to relax in. New York was once again a cold and icy city but at the same time it was also a city full of opportunity and Paul knew he would survive. He had started over at least four times in his life, maybe even more, and he knew what needed to be done. Mentally shuffing his thoughts into some sort of order he tried to prioritize what needed. Safety, shelter, physical resources, and emotional resources. Some things would definitely be easier to accomplish than others but it was all possible.
Paul was so distracted in his own thoughts that he almost missed seeing the flashing "Now Open" sign that was down a street. Without even thinking about it he turned and made his way toward the welcoming beacon. Soon he arrived at a cheery doorway that opened into a small coffee shop. Walking in he felt the wave of warmth and cheeriness wash over him. While the little shop didn't have the same delightful aromas that the old bakery had offered it did have some delightful smells that were all its own. The coffee smelled good and strong but best of all, hot!
"I'll take a large black coffee please." Paul ordered from the rather hippy looking server. The late teen or early twenty something gave him a hopeless look like he was ordering one of the silliest things in the world. "Just coffee? Not an espresso or something a little stronger?"
"Coffee. Black." Paul replied firmly before placing his money on the counter next to the register. Turning he walked down to the end where customers were supposed to pick up their orders. While he waited for his oh so simple request to be fulfilled he idly glanced around the little shop. There were a few customers but the shop was nowhere close to full. Apparently the weather was keeping most people close to home.
"Here's the coffee... black." A voice broke through his thoughts. Nodding his thanks Paul took the cup and moved to take a seat in what appeared to be an inviting corner. Taking a long sip of the close to scalding liquid, Paul once again looked around the room. What might have caused these other winter refugees to brave the elements in order to come to this particular coffee shop instead of relaxing safe and warm in their own home? Were their situations at all similar to his own or were they completely different? Taking another sip, Paul felt the ghost of a smile pull at his lips once again. "Welcome home Paul McCoy..." He murmured under his breath, "Welcome home."
Well, the thread's I'm currently in have all gotten pretty slow but I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm still around... except that I won't be around next week.
From June 29th to 10th I'll be on vacation with my family. I'll see you all on the flip side!
Exiting the vehicle provided absolutely no clarity about the situation within which Andre now found himself. Emilie was still playing her game, toying with him, doing her level best to confuse and distract with both her body and her words. The smile that showed so much and yet divulged nothing only made it even more clear that Andre had not yet realized what was really going on. In fact, if he were being completely honest, at that moment he felt quite like a fly caught up in a spider's web. No matter how much he might struggle to break free or somehow reverse the trap on his captor, there was no escape. The carnivorous female continued to close in on her prey with eyes that glittered in anticipation.
"Soups... focus on the soups." Andre lectured himself as he watched the woman walk around the cab. For a brief moment, it seemed as though he might be able to maintain clarity, but her skill with a blade was only matched by her skills as a woman. Just the right sway that invited a gaze without appearing vulgar. Enough to tempt without making it seem like she was laying everything out on a silver platter. She was wily, but in the same way that a vaccination works by exposing the patient to a weakened version of a disease, this continual exposure was beginning to build Andre's resistant. He was far from being immune but if time continued to pass then perhaps he would at least be able to resist. Either that or the exposure would build an addiction instead of an immunity. Only time would tell.
"The cream of asparagus and lobster bisque are my favorites." He offered, trying to keep the conversation focused on safe territory. "But perhaps those are to mild for you... the Spicy Fish soup has quite a kick. Their recipe originates from the port town of Dieppe." Andre could appreciate some spice in his food but more than that he enjoyed the rich and creamy decadence that something like lobster bisque could provide. Perhaps there was someone in the world that would say that your food choices somehow reflected what you looked for in the opposite sex but that was a little to far afield for him. Food was food and women were women, both to be enjoyed in the proper time and place.
(OOC: Sorry about my slow response. Somehow I missed seeing that it had gotten back around to my turn. I'll do my best to be a little more observant in the future )
IC: Shawn apparently had no concerns about his new companion and was quick to say that he was good with everything. Down the road Paul was going to have to find out more about this young man. He seemed to accept things like time traveling a little bit to easily. How much had this man experienced in his short life or was he perhaps an immortal as well? Paul was beginning to think that they were a dime a dozen.
Turning his focus back to the Detective, Paul could see that he still wasn't 100%. From the way he was studying him, Paul knew that the man was trying to make the connections that had eluded him thus far. Unfortunately, they remained elusive and so all he could do was sigh. Thankfully that sigh then led into his accepting that for now he would trust Paul.
"Shawn of Beetlejuice and Jorge of Hogwarts... nice." Paul commented with a slight smile before there was suddenly a pounding knock on the door. Turning, the three men just stared at it for a moment before Paul suddenly remembered something of medieval decorum. "Enter!"
The doors swung open and the Duke of Devonshire strode in, flanked by two lesser nobles. All three had swords sheathed at their sides though, for the moment, they seemed more ceremonial than anything. "Sir Shawn, Sir Jorge, and Friar Paul, it is time to present you the King. He is at this moment preparing to go before the people in celebration of his sons recovery from the flux." For a moment the Duke eyed the three men, nodding his head approvingly at their new clothes. "I think that the king will be glad to have two more lordly knights added to his retinue. Follow me."
Raising an eyebrow ever so slightly, Paul glanced over at the other two men before falling in behind the Duke. It was obvious that Knights had a far higher value than Friars on a normal day to day basis. Perhaps if someone in the royal family was on death's door then a Friar would be of some worth but since that was not the case, Paul was someone to be overlooked and perhaps even ignored, not valued.
The walk was relatively quick and in short order they men found themselves joining the crowd of onlookers as the King spoke to them. Even at such a joyous gathering, a separation soon became apparent. The common people moved, pulling away from those of noble blood, leaving a small gap in between the two groups. Not really knowing where he fit in, Paul chose to remain with Jorge and Shawn for the time begin while he saw exactly how this might play out.
"My Liege!" The Duke called out when the King had finished speaking. Immediately those around them took a step back, leaving a clear line of sight from the King to his loyal Lord and the three strangers. "I bring before you three strangers that have come to our land. Sir Shawn of Beetlejuice and Sir Jorge of Hogwarts along with their companion and confessor, Friar Paul. They were set upon by bandits outside the city but have now come to pay homage to the ruler of this land!"
Paul couldn't remember any previous discussion of homage but it was apparent that it was what was expected of them. "Step forward!" The King's voice rang out in command as his eyes focused on the Knights, barely giving the Friar ever a passing glance. This was most definitely not the right disguise if he was trying to get a girl but since he was more interested in passing through undetected, it fit quite well with Paul's purposes. "Game time." He murmured under his breath, as he purposely stayed behind Shawn and Jorge, playing the servile position for all it was worth. This was how things worked in Dark Ages... wasn't it?
Shawn... at least now Paul had a name to put to his silver-eyed traveling companion. He seemed intelligent enough and from his conversation with the Maester it was clear that he wasn't at all afraid of the man which was definitely a plus but he was also coming across as one of those goody two shoes people. The bit about 'protecting the innocent' was a bit much though it did shed some light on why the Detective would be friendly with this man. Maybe they actually worked together in some capacity back home. Paul would definitely have to watch what he said and make sure that he didn't give away to much information to either man. The fact that he had killed, stolen, and otherwise performed a few not so pleasant acts was probably best kept a secret. Though, with the Maester around, that might not be fully possible.
Before anything could be said further, the maidens came in with their new clothing and Lumen and the Maester were ushered out of the room. Apparently it was time for the three of them to get into fresh garments, though Paul couldn't really see the purpose for himself. He had already procured garments from the correct time period so why did he need to change? It was a question he was almost willing to argue with the maidens about until they laid out the clothing before him. While his tunic and scapula were somewhat homely these garments were several cuts above. First were jet black pants that were very similar to Shawn's but without any silver stitching. Over that was a pure white tunic that had been carded and treated until it was as soft as they could manage for this time period. The sleeves were long, extending to his wrists while the rest of it fell to about his knees. Next was a black scapula with cowl that was to be worn over the tunic. The scapula extended about the same length as his tunic but was sleeveless with open sides that allowed the white tunic to be seen through it. A very wide black cloth belt wrapped around his waist and then knotted off to the side. There was only one issue that Paul quickly noticed... with everything tailored so much better there didn't really seem to be a place to stow the knife he had procured earlier in the day which meant that he would be forced to remain unarmed for the moment. At least he could still hang the money back off of his belt. After slipping on the black boots that had been provided, Paul left the knife on the bed while he walked over to a piece of polished metal hanging on the wall that seemed to be the only mirror like object in the room. "I hope I don't have to take any confessions..." He muttered to himself as he looked over his reflection, "It's going to be hard enough to keep up appearances as it is."
"These pants are not really made for boxer shorts," The Detective grumbled which made Paul chuckle as he turned around to face the other man. "I don't think that under clothes are an issue for them quite yet otherwise, I think they would have supplied some fresh ones for us along with the rest of the clothing."
As the ladies that had helped with their garments began to file out, Lumen and the Maester walked right back in. Without any preamble they launched into their explanation of what had brought all of them here and what was going on during the current time period.
"Celtic Goddess?" Paul murmured with a slight grin on his face. It fit the young woman pretty well though red hair might have made the story even more believable. The Maester continued with the explanation and while he was concentrating on listening, Paul almost missed the fact that Lumen had moved to where she was standing next to him. "Don't be sorry," he whispered in response before quickly brushing his lips across Lumen's cheek, "I'm glad I'm here to back you up instead of you dealing with it alone."
All to soon their instruction was over and the Maester was taking his leave, followed in mere moments by Lumen after a brief word of encouragement. Since Paul really had no idea when they might have another moment alone, Paul quickly turned to face the other two men. "OK, let's deal with a couple of things really quick. Yes, I am a mutant though my abilities are a little hard to explain. Second," He continued as he turned to lock eyes with the Detective, "I really didn't have anything to do with the deaths of those men that you asked me about. Maybe I can explain things later but for now you're just gonna have to trust me. Finally, yes Lumen and I are friends and I occasionally try to help her with some of her investigations. I have a few skill sets that can be handy in her type of work. Now, is there anything else we need to cover before someone comes in to fetch us?" Crossing his arms over his chest Paul looked back and forth between the other two, waiting to see what they might say. He had hurried through his explanation because he had no idea exactly how much time they had but hopefully it would be enough to satisfy the Detective for the time being.
After a few minutes of arranging chairs, Paul found himself sitting next to Lumen with a glass of wine in his hand. He was surrounded by living wax figures and through the window they could see the fireworks display. It was far from a perfect evening, the chairs weren't the most comfortable, but it was definitely an improvement from their last experience together. "To a new day, fresh beginning, and dreams coming true." Paul toasted with a smile before everyone clinked their glasses together and the two flesh and blood individuals took a sip of their wine.
Without Kanye to disrupt the proceedings the rest of the evening/night passed by quite nicely. Paul drank just enough of the wine to feel a slight warmth radiating from his stomach outward though not enough to actually be overly intoxicated. They were going to be taking another cab back home so why shouldn't he get the slightest bit tipsy?
Without warning the evening was swiftly brought to an end. The one minute warning had begun and the goodbyes were short as their new friends headed back to their station.
"Pleasure to meet you Paul. You've got a ray of pure sunshine there. Don't lose it." Sherlock offered his one final word of wisdom with a handshake and a grin before heading back to take his own place in the display.
"I do, don't I." Paul replied with a smile as he turned to look at the blond that had already begun straightening up the room. It was strange but right here, at this moment, he was able to look at a woman without comparing her to Ashley. Lumen was important to him and, while it was still to early to tell if there might be something special between the two of them, he was interested in seeing where things led.
Slipping an arm around her waist, the two strolled out the exit, past the security guard that still looked half asleep. "That was better... I'll have to shoot for the stars to try and top that one." He responded with his own grin before lowering his head for a gentle kiss. It wasn't demanding or probing it was just affectionate and caring. Sherlock's comment had helped him remember that even with the possibility of future pain the chance of love was worth it. It would be best to take his time and just see where this might lead. "So... ready to head home?" He asked quietly when he pulled away from the kiss, "We've had an eventful evening."
The silver eyes had confirmed that at least one of the two was a mutant. It actually made sense in a strange way. Since Jack had been drunk it was quite possible that he had sent all mutants in the vicinity back in time without realizing it. Hopefully he had only transported mutants and no one else. This would be a little hard for most humans to accept.
When the entourage began to move on, Paul fell in step just behind the Detective and his silver eyed friend. the knife felt quite reassuring where it rested in the small of his back though he knew there was no way he could ever take on one of these trained soldiers with a mere knife. No, if it came to combat then his only hope would be to attack like an assassin. He might be able to handle someone hand to hand but against swords and spears it would be hopeless.
"I sure hope they can handle those things." He murmured under his breath as he eyed the silver swords the two 'Knights' were carrying. They didn't look like any weapon he had seen but there was something about that silver color that made him wonder if it was somehow connected to the one man's silver eyes. Was it possible that he somehow made or manipulated them?
The castle was noisy with what must have been the feast going on in the main hall. Had they arrived during some sort of celebration? Paul couldn't remember hearing anything about it while spending his time in the market but he really couldn't be sure. Not everyone was willing to speak with a man of the cloth about all the activity that made up their day to day life.
"These ladies will show you to your rooms. They will take your measurements and get you some suitable garbs. Your attire will be ready in moments. Then I shall fetch you and we shall greet the king together."
Without being given any sort of choice the three men were led down a few corridors, up some winding steps, and into the room that would apparently be their chambers for the time being. The fact that the young ladies were still there to take their measurements kept them from having the conversation that would soon be very necessary. How were they going to keep their stories straight when they hadn't had a chance to discuss anything? Paul didn't ever know that silver man's name for crying out loud. What if someone asked him?
The women split between the three and quickly went about their task. They were obviously shy and while they would give the occasional smile they otherwise maintained almost complete silence. In fact it was even a touch eery. Women in the 21st century were normally quite vocal about most things but yet here in this time period they maintained almost utter silence. Were they afraid to speak because they were in the presence of men or was it something else?
Without warning the door to the room suddenly opened and two figures walked in. One was a man that Paul had never seen before but the other was a glowing blond wearing an exquisite violet dress. "Lumen!" The happiness and thankfulness was obvious in his voice before he quickly turned, striding toward the young woman to meet her half way. Without even thinking about the fact that he was still in his monks clothing, he wrapped her in his arms, squeezing tightly. "What can I say... I just look good in robes."
Suddenly the man behind Lumen spoke up and Paul released his hold on her so he could better evaluate the man. Apparently he held some sort of authority or power because he was immediately questioning Lumen about whether she knew the three of them. It was a surprise to Paul that Lumen knew the Detective though she apparently didn't know the other man either.
"Well this is something I must know, before we go any further, before I allow these men to see the King."
"Sir Cervantes would be considered a defender of justice where we come from as would his companion." Paul spoke up, lieing smoothly. He actually didn't know a thing about the Detective's companion but he was pretty sure the man wouldn't be spending time with a murderer or assassin. If the silver man was with the Detective then that was good enough for Paul in this situation. "I am not a warrior, if anything I would be considered more of a scholar in my home."
The strange man fixed Paul with a gaze that seemed to penetrate to the very center of his mind. In fact, he could almost feel some sort of strange pressure before the other man gave a tight smile. "You speak truth about yourself and the Spaniard but you lie shamelessly about the other one. You know nothing about him. Why are you so quick to defend a stranger?"
Paul raised an eyebrow questioningly as he looked at the man. How in the world had he been able to tell that he was not telling the truth? Was that strange feeling in his head connected? Unable to get an answer right at that moment he turned his eyes back over to the Detective and his silver eyed companion. Since he couldn't cover for them it was up to the two of them to defend themselves.
Her touch was beginning to make Andre a little uncomfortable but he did his best to mask it. Never before had he met a woman so forward and so obviously manipulative. She was a master of her art and it was only with the most regimented breathing and mental control that he was able to keep his wits about him. She seemed closer... was she closer? The hand that gently touched the fabric of his shirt was distracting and he did his best to ignore it but it was very difficult. The touch was both gentle and firm as she fingered the cloth while the heat from her skin seemed to pass right into his chest as though there were nothing between them. Her movement were all at once lazy and purposeful, doing her best to put him under her spell. She had three muscle bound idiots already but why not increase her power by increasing their numbers?
"Such dangerous question..."
"Danger is what gives life its spice." Andre replied, hating the way his voice quivered ever so slightly. He hated what this woman was doing but at the same time he loved it. She was dangerous and unpredictable but that only made her more desirable and that desire was slowly chinking away at the wall of self-control he had so carefully built.
"We do need someone who knows the lay of the land. Among other things..."
For a moment Andre was speechless. What other things was she talking about? Was she talking about his burglary skills or did she mean something else? Were her hands and lips only there to distract him or were they unspoken clues to what she really wanted? She she all business or was she a person that took pleasure wherever she might find it? What was this situation in her mind? Was it business or was it pleasure?
The sound of a throat being cleared made Andre realize that their cab had stopped and a quick glance at the window revealed that they had arrived at their destination. "Around the block a time or two or would you like to get out now?" The cabby asked with a sly grin on his face as he looked back over his shoulder at them.
"This is fine... thank you." Andre responded quickly before digging a hand into his pocket and removing a couple of bills to pay the fare. There was no reason to remind Emilie that he was paying with money taken from her bodyguards which probably meant that she was really paying for their evening. As long as she didn't think about it then Andre might at least appear chivalrous even if he really wasn't.
Turning his gaze back to the woman, he raised an eyebrow questioningly as he looked into her captivating green eyes. "What is it that you want?" For a moment, he let the question hang in the air, allowing it to transport her wherever she willed before adding, "They have some delightful soups here."
SUCCESS! Paul felt like shouting and pumping his fist in the air but that wouldn't be particularly becoming for a monk and neither would it fit the time period. The Detective had remembered him! "I probably owe him something of an explanation."
"My apologies Lord." Paul responded as he hung his head ever so slightly and did his best to look chastised. "I was so thankful for our safe arrival in these lands that I couldn't help myself. I shall do my best to keep my worship from interrupting my duties ever again."
He was doing his best to play up the roll of the humble monk and servant but he wasn't sure if the man that had address the Detective as 'Sir Cervantes' was really buying it. It was clear he had a questioning look on his face, with just a touch of suspicion mixed in, but it wasn't enough for him to have the strangers clapped in irons. At least not yet anyways.
"Very well... are there any more members of your party that we should watch for?" The man asked as he turned back to the two foreign knights. His gaze flicked back and forth between them, momentarily ignoring the monk. What harm could a monk do after all?
For a moment, Paul was tempted to speak up about Lumen being in the castle but instead chose to bite his tongue. If the rumors he had heard about her mysteriously appearing right in front of the banqueting King were right, then it was probably best not to mention their involvement with her quite yet.
As Paul let the royals talk, he noticed that the soldiers were watching him very carefully. Ever though the Duke was currently ignoring him it was clear that these soldiers did not view him as someone completely non-threatening. Maybe they were worried he would cursing their souls or some such non-sense. Pointedly ignoring them, the older man returned to simply watching the three lordly man discuss the situation. Worrying was for those that couldn't come back from death.
"Oh, sometimes we can surprise you. In some way, wax figures are extremely life like." Fleming responded confidently while pointedly ignoring his other wax counter parts... at least until Charlie decided to offer him an invisible glass of champagne. Shaking his head, the British man briefly lost his cool as an annoyed expression flashed across his face but soon enough he had regained his extremely charming mask.
Paul had to smile slightly but now Lumen was asking a question that he had never even considered. What happened when the mutant woke up? It was an interesting though but not something he thought deserved much consideration. They were wax figures not real flesh and blood, why should they be worrying what might happen to them? He was quite willing to leave this establishment when the time came and never look back.
Releasing his hold on Lumen's waist he watched as Sherlock took her hands and set out to make her feel better, leaving Paul alone to his thoughts. Was he wrong for not worrying about them? Had his many years and his many experiences made him to hard or cold? Would most people be taking the time to worry about these individuals or would most not care?
He was still pondering his own morality when Lumen turned to look at him with a sly grin before turning back to the wax men and women. It was a simple question but from the way their grins widened it was obviously something they were quite happy to talk about.
"You really had to ask?" Sherlock asked with a smile.
"Let's Have A Party Tonight!" Elvis crowed before beginning to dance to the tune that was apparently playing within his own head.
"A New Years Eve party... sounds great." Paul replied, firmly setting aside the less than enjoyable thoughts that had been crowding his mind. Those were the things to contemplate on nights spent alone... not on nights with Lumen. "Feel up to it Lumen?"
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