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.
Coughing out water onto the broken tile floor Zephyr cracked open an eye and forced his head to turn as he glanced about and tried to get his bearings while ignoring the dull throbbing in his chest. He didn’t even want to consider what state his ribs were in if they were hurting even with his medication in play.
‘No. Focus.’ Struggling to his knees the elemental shook his head again to clear his thoughts just as a low crooning voice made its way to his hears. He had just enough time to catch a hint of a teal coloured dress before something crashed into his back, grinding him into the shattered tiles and stealing his breath so he couldn’t even scream as the dull throbbing in his chest was replaced with white hot agony.
Panic was something Simon hadn’t felt in a long time. The frenzied fear that clawed at your insides when you were faced with death and realized there was nothing you could do. He couldn’t move, pinned like an insect, it was he could do to clench his fists as he felt the water run down his neck, quietly filling his ears and eyes as it gradually crept towards his nose and mouth to rob him of life.
‘Fuck that.’
If his attacker had thought this would be enough to finish him though they were sorely mistaken. Pain, panic and fear could render a person helpless yes, but they were also motivators and when you replaced the last with sheet fury you could provoke reactions far greater than anything they’d normally achieve. After all, when you have nothing to lose why bother holding back?
It happened in the blink of an eye; every iota of air in the underground station seemed to screech in an echo of their masters own agony, writhing and twisting every other second like a bizarre strobe light as the elementals power fluxed and flickered; one moment conjuring a miniature cyclone that hurled a garbage can several feet, the next a mockery of a gentle summer breeze which swept up the stairs and into the streets above.
Then it became a piston of invisible force shattering a bench not one foot away from the old sword wielding Asian, just before a storm of unseen razors lashed out at the walls and ceiling throwing up clouds of dirt and dust which-
Like the flick of a switch, clarity and control returned in an instant. He could sense every movement of air in the room, discern every presence which displaced it with the same distinctive ease as breathing
Speaking of which… a startled scream abruptly cut through the station as the kneeling waterbender at the hessian side was suddenly caught in a vice of air and thrown across the room at her partner before she could fight back, allowing the elemental to gasp and choke on lungful’s of fresh air as her control slipped and water splashed to the floor
‘Need to get out’ The idea raced through his thought as he struggled back to his knees. He’d bought himself a brief respite but that was all it was; brief. At best he had a few seconds before the water wielding waif and her companion disentangled themselves. A few seconds of control over a power he’d almost burnt out just trying to fend them off.
He needed a plan.
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Still reclining on the subway bench Zephyr merely arched a single eyebrow as the blonde sylph continued her dramatic rendition of… something or other, as she straightened up and placed a hand to her chest while adopting an affronted affectation, all of which was lacking the appropriate sense of haste for it to be believable.
That being said, the hessian had no real reason to interrupt the waifs passé riposte, not when it provided him the last few moments he needed to disable both of the firearms his Asian stalker wore concealed beneath his jacket, and not a moment too soon honestly.
Imagine for a moment that you are suddenly struck deaf; that all sound is abruptly erased and you are cocooned in silence. A soundless stretch of existence that lasts only long enough to gain your awareness before it shatters under the harsh crack of a gunshot fired right by your ear.
Can you imagine what your reaction would be?
For Zephyr, the rapid loss and then explosion of his spatial awareness left him stunned long enough to present an easy target. A face full of water however has a way of bringing one back to their senses quite quickly and upon realizing his rather unpleasant circumstances the elemental had no hesitation in conjuring a gale force wind to hurl the blonde soubrette into the station far wall.
Unfortunately, somewhere between the intended cause and actual effect something was missed in translation and the hessian instead found both himself and the blonde naiad being slammed into the ceiling hard enough that his vision threatened to fade… until he was rather inevitably brought back to earth by a rather unhealthy ‘crack’ as his ribs collided with floor.
This was not going according to plan.
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
There were three reasons Zephyr had chosen this table. The first was the Adapted dealers whose ineffectual presence would allay any suspicions of cheating long enough for the elemental to do just that, provided he didn’t try anything too overt.
The hessians second motive was the game itself; although Texas hold em wasn’t the ideal means of gambling (though the casino particular variant did have some benefits), the nature of the game meant that he would largely be cheating the other players who contributed to the pot rather than the casino itself. Therefore, in the unlikely event he was caught, it was doubtful the Tarantino’s would make more than a token effort of escorting him from the premises.
Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, every card currently in play was embossed; each designed a raised indent less than a millimeter in height, yet still tall enough to displace the surrounding air and allow the elemental to effectively read every card more than a foot from the dealer.
Including the face down community cards.
As anyone familiar with Hold ’em rules know, the community cards normally aren’t even dealt until the end of a betting round. The Black Lake however did things somewhat differently as they dealt each of the three beginning community cards from the bottom of the deck at the very beginning of the game before then revealing them after the first round of ‘pre-flop’ betting.
Needless to say, there was a certain benefit in knowing the first set of community cards before the rest of the competition, to say nothing of ‘reading’ the competitions cards themselves. It was an advantage Zephyr had no hesitation in exploiting as he discreetly scanned each card as it left the Adapteds field; condensing the air around one corner to provide enough definition to read both the suit and the value.
It was only cheating if you got caught after all.
Unfortunately luck did not seem to favour him this game; his two cards were mediocre in value, their only redeeming trait being that they shared a suit with one of the unrevealed community cards, though sadly they weren’t sequential. In spite of this though he managed to keep his expression bored as he made a show of gaging his present peers.
Perhaps the best that could be said of his hand was that none of the other players had been granted anything particularly confidence building; three of a kind was the most any of them could achieve with the current cards and only the bare foot game at that.
Still the hessian wasn’t overly concerned. Poker was about more than just the cards in your hand; an untold numbers of books had been dedicated to the games psychological undercurrents. There was an art to it really; one the one hand you wanted to convince people that they had a chance of winning so they’d continue playing and contribute to the pot… right until you needed them to fold so you could claim said pot.
It was a difficult balancing act and in Zephyr’s opinion it was rarely worth the effort, yet he decided to indulge his inner thespian this once and matched his previous contribution to the pot; a move that said he wasn’t overly optimistic and likely hedging his decision on the outcome of the first three community cards. Only to give a tired sigh that was almost inaudible when the trio was revealed and wearily set aside another three crimson chips for the next round as he settled himself into the apathetic yet affluent role of one who could afford to lose much in return for little as they waited for their luck to change.
One could only hope the fish were biting.
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
There was something oddly cathartic about turning Duskmoor’s own laughter against her. Granted it did wonders for his bruised ego, but at the same time it was a refreshing change of pace from her typical sullen recalcitrance; he’d probably heard more out of her in the last 30 seconds than he had the past week, a somewhat disappointing revelation given what he was trying to accomplish honestly.
"Cheater! Ch- eeeek!- eeater!"
Still, that was hardly going to stop from milking as much amusement as possible.
“Sticks and stones Isabel”. He replied smugly as he balanced the paintball gun on his knees. There was little point in continuing their game until the brunette got over her hysterics and calmed down enough to retrieve her own, however as that required the girl to swallow her pride he was likely in for a long wait.
"Stoppit! Stoppit! Stopp-aaack!"
“I’m not hearing an ‘uncle’”. He called back lazily over the girls unending peals of laughter, resting himself more comfortably against the wall while lacing his hands behind his head and closing his eyes behind the helmet as he set about searching for further chinks in the gamines armor. If he what he could fee was right then it should be-
Any further thought on the matter was abruptly derailed when what seemed like a damn ruddy python shot out of Isabel’s wrist and proceeded to do an annoyingly good impression of Indiana Jones’s whip as it repeatedly tried to coil around one of his legs, and though the hessian was able to dodge several attempts, the problem with having ones back to a wall is that there’s nowhere to retreat to.
So it was that about thirty second later Zephyr found himself dangling directly over Duskmoor by his ankle with his arms crossed and his coat hanging over his head in some bizarre imitation of a cape. Isabel for her part took the chance to catch her breath now that the tickling had finally stopped though her hands remained pinned above her head. It was perhaps five minutes later that the shapely soubrette had calmed enough to actually look at him and it was then that elemental spoke.
“Cute.” The single word betrayed a tone of wry amusement to let the girl would know he was no longer as irritated as he had been. “Now are you going to put me down or do I have to take things up a notch?”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
‘Well, someone’s certainly laying it on thick.’ The elemental mused with a slight smirk as he reached into his jacket. If he hadn’t already known that the woman had an ulterior motive she certainly would have been suspect by this point. He doubted a blind man would have missed such an obvious invitation, and though he certainly appreciated the view, he’d seen better.
Working with Duskmoor had its perks after all.
Aesthetics aside though, part of him was still wondering what the hell the girl was waiting for; her Chinese companion hadn’t moved from the stairway, nor had he drawn either of his firearms, which Zephyr was even now attempting to sabotage without the mans notice.
Firing pins really were quite fragile components
Withdrawing a small pill bottle from his jacket Zephyr popped the cap with his thumb without ever breaking eye contact before tossing back a pair of small capsules, purposefully breaking their casing with his teeth before swallowing and putting the container away.
“My my, that’s quite an offer.” he replied with the same warm tone the soubrette was using before a smirk crept across his features. “How much do you charge?”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
It was much like saying the sky was blue, but even that simple statement wasn’t always true. For clouds could make it grey, night would paint it black and the sun could cast a crimson hue, which only goes to show that few things are as simple as they seem when you stop to think them through.
Cities were crowded yes, but not everywhere and not all the time. Apartments during the day, commercial high streets at night and subways situated in the ghetto; all were prime examples of desolation in an otherwise bustling metropolis. The last one especially for that was where Zephyr now found himself, much to his displeasure.
Still there’d been no helping it; he’d caught someone tailing him for at least the past hour if not longer and he’d needed a secluded setting for… questioning. Whilst being underground might hamper his talents somewhat, he was still more than capable of dealing with the average thug and if they were mutants well, he could deal with them too.
The tail in question was a middle aged man of Asian persuasion who’d apparently never quite grasped the concept of subtlety given that he’d just followed the elemental through one of the city’s Projects while wearing a suit that practically had ‘$’woven into the material. And he’d done it without being shaken down or otherwise molested by the locals.
That didn’t bode well. A tail was meant to be discreet, invisible; the kind of person you’d bump into on the street and dismiss barely a second later. This guy though, he stood out from over a block away; which by the way was exactly how far he’d stayed from the hessian until he’d been forced to enter the subway station.
After circling it, twice.
So to sum things up, Zephyr knew he was being followed, had made it evident that he knew and the tail had still followed him down into the subway and promptly blocked the exit. This wasn’t just reconnaissance, it was hit; the only question that had made the elemental pause thus far was what his prospective assailant was waiting for.
"Why hello there handsome...you look so lonely there, all by yourself? Perhaps you'd enjoy a little company?"
Stirred from his thoughts more by the lilting French accent than by the words themselves, Zephyr glanced up at the speaker and raised an eyebrow as he took in the sight before him. A heart shaped face with intent pale blue eyes and full red lips were framed by a pair of blonde bangs with the rest pulled up into an elegant French twist. Her shoulders were bare, revealing smooth sun kissed skin while a simple silver cross hung from her throat and drew the eye to the swell of her breasts within the low cut of her dress. A dress which would have looked more at home in a church than a rundown subway station in the middle of the ghetto.
Then the penny dropped and the hessian silently cursed himself even as he quietly began to exert his influence on the air around him. The old Asian man hadn’t been tail at all; he’d been a distraction, or at best, a body guard for the young woman in front of him who’d gotten rather closer than he would have liked for a potential assassin.
Still, neither of the two had made their move just yet and there was always the chance he’d misread the situation. It couldn’t hurt to draw things out, and in any case, the more time he had to prepare the faster be able to deal with the pair. Thus he gave the blonde soubrette a charming smile of his own and gestured to the seat beside him before folding his arms.
“How could I possibly say no to that?” He replied, granting the girl a warm smile as he gestured to the space beside him before folding his arms. “Though I must admit I’m little curious as to what brings someone as lovely as you to the area.”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
The elementals first stop after hitting the metaphorical ‘jackpot’ had been the Black Lakes cashier station or cage, so called because of its marked resemblance to an old western jail cell. It was here that all prospective gambler, be they two bit card sharks or high rollers (or more accurately those working for high rollers) came to exchange cash for chips and vice versa.
Upon approaching the cashier Zephyr had adopted an amiable façade before passing his case through the thin slot in the bars and requesting that his winning be coloured up’ or consolidated; a task that would likely take more than a few minutes given the multitude of different chips he’d earned and he was told as much by the cashier who quickly handed the task off to an associate.
After assuring the man he had no problem waiting, the hessian had rested his back against a nearby pillar and cast his gaze about the room, sweeping from table to table as he took in his options.
There was a secret to the Tarantino’s recent success with Black Lake, and a rather poorly kept one at that. Had they tried opening the casino before the registration act their finances would have swept into the red within a month, even a year ago they’d have struggled to find the necessary manpower. Now though, Adapteds were almost as common as mutants themselves and so their numbers had reached the point where the government and other agencies could afford to be selective.
This had resulted in an untapped pool of individuals capable of canceling mutant powers to one degree or another. They hadn’t been the strongest of their kind, but then again, they didn’t need to be. The Black Lake hadn’t wanted enforcers or hitmen who could go toe to toe with the likes of Isabel Duskmoor or the Judge. No, they’d wanted dealers and pitbosses who could protect cards, dice and roulette tables from outside interference and they were willing to pay well.
So well in fact that a little over half of the dealers on the floor tonight were Adapted to one degree or another.
Still, no counter measure was fool proof. The Adapteds were meant to discourage mutant conmen through sheer numbers since those with powers rarely enjoyed being parted from them. What the Tarantino’s hadn’t counted on though was a mutant who could discern the strength and range of each Adapted field and use it to their advantage.
By the time Zephyr had his winnings returned to him he’d taken the measure of each dealer in the room and chosen his target. Not a mundane human, they’d be under closer watch than their nullifying counter parts and the elemental was loath to reveal the full extent of his abilities over something as trivial as this. Instead he chose a table towards the front of the room with an adapted dealer whose field was strong but limited in range.
Claiming a seat opposite a rather fetching young woman whose skin was almost as pale as her hair, the elemental withdrew two stacks of crimson chips from his winnings before sliding a trio of them into the center of the table to start the pot and get the game moving.
Texas Hold em wasn’t his preferred poker variant, but it would do.
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
New York is a wonderfully diverse urban jungle. Its status as one of the key commercial hubs in the civilized world allows it to cater to all manner of entities and individuals regardless of colour or creed and permits it to host a number of unique experiences which one would be hard pressed to replicate elsewhere. From scenic view of the statue of liberty to the enthusiastic ambience of the Yankee stadium it was arguable that the streets of New York contained more golden opportunities than London ever did.
Some of them were even legal.
“Six card Stud, all bet’s in.”
Others… not so much
Idly tossing in a pair of blue chips, Zephyr leant back in his seat and raised his gaze to the ceiling as the dealer collected the pot and began cutting the deck with no small amount of showmanship.
It was called the Black Lake, and as far as illicit ventures went one could certainly do worse. Built beneath the city’s largest aquarium with some well paid mutant labour, the underground casino was quite the sight. Black marble studded with white quartzes covered the floors while the walls were polished obsidian. Backlit artificial waterfalls had been carved into the volcanic glass every few feet and provided a calming back ground ambience whenever the live music happened to die down.
The real attraction though was the ceiling; being built beneath an aquarium the owners had made certain to give their guests one of the best views possible and so all manner of exotic sea creatures could be seen if one only cared to look.
“Third street, limit is five and fifty.”
Taking a brief moment to survey the cards and run some mental math the elemental sighed before tossing in another pair of blue chips. He should have known it wouldn’t be anything close to an interesting game.
The casino was run by the Tarantino’s; one of the first ‘old’ families who hadn’t the foresight to read the writing on the wall and chosen to partner with Order, rather struggle against them and in doing so had built a reputation for cunning and practicality. And it had only grown when they’d proven that, in a world where mutants could not only stack the deck but also rewrite the odds, a casino was still a viable business model.
As the final cards were dealt Zephyr flipped over his hand and resisted the urge to sigh once again when the dealer didn’t even blink an eye at the straight flush and simply presented him with a sizeable tower of multi coloured chips. Never one to turn down payment, the hessian deftly swift his winnings into the stylized carry case he’d been provided and left the table with a carefully blank expression.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the need for this farce; dead government officials tended to attract attention, even when they appeared to have simply choked on their evening meal. If the Tarantinos presented him with a check or a cash filled suitcase it would be found out sooner or later and people might make connections.
Still, the fact that they’d chosen to pay him like this meant that, at best, he’d only keep ¾ of his ‘winnings’. He’d just had a marvelous stroke of luck after all, he could afford to play a few more hands and enjoy himself. In fact it would be downright suspicious if he left after only one game.
‘Tarantino cunning my foot, they’re nothing more than penurious politicians who haven’t made it to the ballot yet. ‘
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
[Edit] Reading over everything you’ve outlined Forte it’s clear you’ve put a good deal of thought into this and I’m looking forward to seeing it in action. We so rarely get a chance to let our characters have a no holds barred fight where we don’t have to worry about the no killing rule, this will let a good number of us cut loose and write something different.
In regards to organization I think you may want to start disclosing how the initial encounters with Zodiacs will progress (i.e. who will be fighting who) just so people can get an idea of the general timeline and when various Zodiacs might be free to fight/run away from.
You may also want to clarify how the NPC’s can/can’t be used. From what I understand you want to RP the initial encounters and that’s fine but we should have something set down to allow other players to use the NPC without the same individual showing up in five or six threads. Perhaps some kind of bidding system on a first come first serve basis?
Finally I would encourage others to start plotting here or simply put in requests to face different Zodiac members or maybe even requests to gang up on zodiac members. Just remember that you can’t beat them right from the outset, things need to evolve over time to make defeating them in the end an actual accomplishment.
In regards to Kat’s questions below: 1) From what I understand after talking with Forte, the General will be something akin to a mob boss. People on the street will know he’s behind the Zodiac but there won’t be any kind of paper trail to connect thus, legally, there won’t be anything the government can really do.
Also, just because people know the General’s involved doesn’t mean they know how to find him or even how to go about opposing him.
2) The brainwasher/loyalty implanter was, at least initially, meant to be a close relation to the General, possibly a son/daughter. Forte will be able to provide far greater detail than I.
As he struggled to keep his shots on target Zephyr was reminded of a particular aphorism he’d learned when he’d first left home. ‘In theory, practice and theory are the same. In practice they are not.’
The reminiscence was triggered by the fact that, theoretically, firing from a prone position allowed one a greater degree of accuracy with their shots. In practice however, this theory did not extend to one who was essentially firing from the hip whilst lying in a crumpled heap on a cold cement floor.
Not that he missed. Every pull of the trigger was rewarded with a sudden flare of crimson paint which stitched its way from the shapely soubrettes shoulder to her neck, falling only a few inches short of her helmets visor where he’d originally been aiming. Still the shots proved more than sufficient in stifling the ingénues inane giggling and so gave the elemental no small amount of satisfaction .
Sadly, the silence barely lasted a few moments before the gamines frame once again began shaking with bubbling laughter as she struggled to return fire. If it hadn’t been so surreal the sound would have been almost pleasant.
As it was, the girl’s halfhearted efforts gave the hessian more than enough time to pull himself into a sitting position and level a withering glare from behind his own helmet… only to get hit right between eyes. Unsurprisingly, this only served to send the ingénue into an even larger bout of hysterics as she finally lost her balance and fell backwards.
Zephyr, for his part, simply closed his eyes and forced himself to count backwards. By the time he was done Duskmoors incessant giggling had hardly begun to die down. None the less he managed to make himself heard as he spoke in a dead, monotone voice.
“You know Isabel, if I’d realized it was this easy to get you on your back I’d have tickled you into submission weeks ago. “
No sooner had the words left his lips then the air around Isabel tightened. Invisible manacles snapped across her wrists, pinning them to the cement floor above her head. At the same time a pulsing band of air formed just below her shoulders and steadily made its way down as it searched for any chink in the armor she’d formed above her skin; quickly finding several around her joints and within her boots, specifically, her knees, armpits and the soles of her feet.
It took less than three seconds before the buxom brunettes giggles became full born shrieks of laughter.
“Now. Say. Uncle.”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Human behaviour is, more often than not, predictable. So much of an individual’s early life is spent learning how to react; to speak or hold ones tongue? To fight or make flight? It is all a vast education in cause and effect based around society's valued traits. And though these traits may vary from country to country, the virtue of civility; the desire to remain polite and not offend, is something of a constant; especially in a business relationship such as this. Thus the elemental knew precisely what his quiet words would achieve and kept his gaze locked on the girls own pale grey eyes, even as the pleasant view of neckline became an inviting valley as she leaned down further still catch his question. There was a difference after all, between appreciation and lechery.
That isn’t to say that peripheral vision is without its advantages however.
In any case there was, unfortunately, a downside to the hessians less than subtle ploy; namely that the lissome lolita hadn’t heard him fully and as such was taking his query seriously. A pity certainly, but far from irredeemable still, he hadn’t quite expected the blonde to invite herself to his table and stretch her legs against his own.
Not that he was complaining. In fact, if the girl was who he thought, then she was proving far more promising than he’d hoped; few waitresses would have confidence to be so blunt about the menu while in earshot of the owner. It was refreshing and the hessian granted the girl a slight smirk to show his appreciation for her honesty, even as part of him acknowledged he’d be rather less so if he’d been on the receiving end.
“That good is it? Are you sure you aren’t being too generous?”
The joy of hypocrisy.
Sadly though, it seemed ‘Dudleys’ selections were rather limited for the svelte sylph was only able to offer one further option before she fell silent and waited for his order. A tad disappointing
“Hmm, decisions decisions.” He leant back in his seat and again offered the blonde his best urbane grin, his British brogue not faltering in the slightest even as he continued in a perfectly innocent tone, “Are you sure you can’t offer me a menage a trois?”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Sprawled on his side with one arm dangling uselessly from his shoulder and his back flat against a brick wall, Zephyr spent a brief moment reflecting on what had just happened as his aforementioned arm faded and steadily slipped back into its socket.
He’d taken the turn far faster than he should have, hadn’t shifted his center of gravity to account for the ongoing momentum. The upside of this, was that the moment he’d tried to pivot and change direction, he’d instead pulled off an unexpected yet impressive barrel roll. In fact, if he’d been a smidgen quicker he could have landed on his feet and made the whole thing seem intentional.
Unfortunately, that hadn’t happened.
Instead about half a second after he’d started going arse over teakettle he’d crashed into the side wall of the warehouse with enough speed to crack two of his ribs (which he’d already fixed), dislocate his shoulder and leave him seeing stars for at least a handful of seconds.
All in all, it wasn’t one of his finer moments.
Just in case he hadn’t realized that however Isabel had, oh so helpfully, taken it upon herself to bare out precisely how ill advised his stunt had been. At least, the elemental assumed that was what the girl was doing in between her giggling fits. He was currently doing his best to ignore those; the last thing he needed was to lose his temper and so he tried to focus on the positives.
“No Isabel I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” He bit out dryly once he trusted himself to speak. All he received in response was trio of poorly aimed shots which somehow managed to decorate one side of his chest.
“Your concern is touching.”
Then, just as his shoulder slipped back into place, he discretely lifted the muzzle of his own weapon and, without moving from the floor, returned fire.
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
"Sleeping with my girlfriend. I'm not telling you about it."
Well, that was intriguing.
Lowering his arm Zephyr retreated a step, leaving Allison to blink in confusion at the lights above her as he resumed leaning against the rooms far wall where, for just a few brief moments, he allowed himself to indulge his imagination as it ran with the redheads statement and recalled the girls rather… familiar, attitude with Isabel only an hour or so before.
Interesting as the possibility was though the elemental knew Isabel far too well to seriously consider it. The buxom bonemancer was a mountain of insecurity when it came to anything even vaguely approaching intimacy. She simply wasn’t capable of trusting anyone enough to form any kind of serious relationship and she inevitably pushed aside anyone who tried, often violently.
That, and he was fairly certain Duskmoor was straight. Video evidence notwithstanding, the brunette had never shown any interest in women while sober and the few trashy romance novels he’d found scattered around her room would seem to indicate she wouldn’t be switching sides any time soon.
Still, one could dream.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts and return to the matter at hand Zephyr glanced backed down at Allison and debated how best to deal with her. As she was the girl was barely coherent from a mixture of the concussion and what looked like pain, he’d be lucky to find out what she’d had for lunch let alone why she’d tried to kill him.
Allowing his gaze to trail down the redheads figure the elementals eyes focused on her right arm; the limb was so bruised it was almost entirely purple and if the angle was any indication it had been broken at least once…
Why the hell not? He needed the practice and since he’d likely kill the girl regardless he could afford to experiment somewhat.
Stepping forward he placed a hand over Allison’s broken arm and closed his eyes as he began resetting her shattered bones and torn flesh.
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
For all of Dudley’s apparent failing’s customer service was not one of them. Indeed the hessian found he couldn’t quite help but feel… appreciative, of the rather prompt care paid to him by the young peri as she strutted towards down the aisle, her hips giving just enough sway to call attention to the nicely toned legs within the intriguingly short shorts that were only partially concealed by her apron.
It wasn’t just her hips that were moving though, the blondes shoulders were deliberately thrust back, taking full advantage of the too tight shirt which clung to her like a second skin; emphasizing her natural curves and putting more than a little ‘spring’ in each step.
She was good.
Still, even with that quiet show she wasn’t quite finished, for as she finally made it to the hessians side the blonde took out her notepad, using the movement to bring her arms to her side, hugging her breasts to improve the already pleasing neckline of her undersized shirt before leaning in to give an even better view just as she began to speak, a faint but unmistakable French lilt coating her words like honey.
”Hey there handsome… What can I get you?."
She was very good.
Granting the girl a small urbane smile Zephyr slowly lifted his cobalt gaze to meet the blondes curious grey eyes. He didn’t rush, what was the need? The gamine clearly took a certain amount of pride in her looks; and beautiful things deserved to be appreciated did they not?
When he at last met her gaze though his smile grew just slightly, and he couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow at the svelte sylph as he answered, his British brogue deliberately low, partially out of a desire to keep the conversation private and partially to edge her closer still.
“Aside from your own charming presence?” He hmm’d quietly for a moment though his azure eyes stayed fixed on hers. “While I’d rather not see you go I’m generally prefer something…” His gaze swept down briefly before flickering up towards her hair. “full bodied, yet light.”
“What would you recommend?”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Watching from atop one of the many stacks of shipping crates scattered throughout the warehouse a small frown worked its way across Zephyr’s features as Isabel sullenly wrestled the helmet over her mass of hair, muttering curses the entire time.
Granted, he was aware that Duskmoor cared little for these morning sessions, especially after what amounted to a two week vacation. Still he’d expected a certain amount of… enthusiasm, after he’d offered himself up as a target. The girl generally relished any opportunity to get the better of him and he’d rather counted on that for their game; she wouldn’t learn anything if she didn’t try after all.
Drifting down from his perch the elemental briefly checked over his weapon again as his feet landed silently an inch above the ground and then slowly began to coast across the floor as he circled round behind the soubrette.
He’d been working on this particular trick on and off for a few months now; a thin carpet of air wrapped around each foot that he could use to propel himself one way or the other; like roller blades or ice skates if they weren’t confined by gravity. It wasn’t as easy as all-purpose flight which was little more than floating along a current, but it was virtually silent and, as he skirted and in front of Duskmoor, it let him turn on a dime.
When he managed to keep his balance at least.
Unfortunately that was easier said than done, and the moment he’d tried to pivot he’d instead wound up in a rather ungraceful tumble as he flew head over heels in front of the buxom soubrette and came to a less than dignified landing a few feet away.
At least he hadn’t broken anything
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
