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.
People that Isabel would tolerate were few and far between, those that she actually let close to her, metaphorically or otherwise, were even rarer still. It had taken the elemental months to earn even a grudging level of trust from the buxom bonemancer, yet the tattooed redhead, Allison, had somehow managed to gain something similar without coming to his notice.
He’d need to have a few words with Lisa.
Still, if Isabel’s crimson features were any indication this wasn’t truly any cause for concern. The brunette was embarrassed yes, but she wasn’t scared; if she thought she’d done something wrong the ingénue would have been pale and shaking by now, instead she was blushing and stammering like a schoolgirl caught on a first date.
In fact, now that he thought about it the hessian couldn’t help but smirk as he tilted his head slightly to reconsider the scene before him, replaying the lyrics of Allison’s song in the back of his mind. He’d not really given it much thought at first, but really, who was he to turn down such a golden opportunity?
“A pleasure to meet you Allison.” He inclined his head slightly towards the redhead who waved and promptly leaned in closer to Isabel. “I’m not interrupting am I?” The question carried amusement rather than concern as he arched an eyebrow at the girls. “The pair of you seem quite cozy together. I can always come back later if need be, let you enjoy some quality time.”
“Would you like that Isabel?”
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."
Posted by Zephyr on Jun 24, 2013 23:08:54 GMT -6
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The Syndicate
Captain of The Syndicate
[b]Bold[/b]
Straight
TBD
863
18
May 26, 2023 22:14:20 GMT -6
Zephyr
He’d tried to get two beds.
No, honestly he had tried. After seeing the drunken mess Isabel had made of the cab the last thing the elemental had wanted was to share a bed with her. Yes the brunette was beautiful but she wasn’t worth that kind of torment.
That being said, when the girl had effectively kicked him out of the bathroom he’d fully expected her to spend the rest of the night/morning hugging the toilet until she passed out on the tiled floor. He’d even spent an hour or so on the couch, using his spatial awareness to check on the soubrette every few minutes as he made an effort to clean his jacket; ghosting the material and then trying to separate the stains from the fabric. It had worked to a degree, but not as much as he would have liked.
Still, after two hours the gamine hadn’t shown any signs of moving and so Zephyr had decided to get what sleep he could while he had the chance and had climbed into bed after removing most of his clothes and folding them over the office chair. He’d just started to drowse off when the mattress had shifted and he’d just been able to make out Isabel muttering some halfhearted threat before she’d slipped in next to him under the sheets and quickly turning her back to him.
She’d been too tired to care and at that point so had he.
That had been at around five in the morning, it was now two in the afternoon and the elemental found himself rather reconsidering his earlier apathy as a number of new facts came to his attention. Firstly, Isabel apparently had even less on than she’d had last night; both the shirt and the shorts she’d worn to the bar seemed to have vanished.
He knew this because, secondly, when he’d woken up to the afternoon sun in his face he’d found that she’d rolled over at some point in the until she was half on top of him, her head buried in the crook of his neck to escape the sun with her arms wrapped around his torso, effectively pinning one of his arms to his side, while her legs clutched his lower half and trapped his other hand between her thighs. He’d very briefly tried to free his hand but quickly stopped when the shapely soubrette had given some unintelligible moan and somehow managed to snuggle closer with a movement which had caused him to wake up in more ways than one.
Isabel Duskmoor, well known mutant and infamous cop killer was also a closet cuddler. What. F*cking. Luck. The one time she was actually throwing herself at him and he couldn’t do a damn thing, and not just because she essentially had him in a death grip either. Granted he could likely get her off if he wanted too, especially in her current state, but doing so without waking her up was another thing entirely.
He didn’t want to deal with this, if the sun hadn’t been staring him in the face he’d have been more than happy to go back to sleep and let Isabel work it out whenever she woke up. It would save him no small amount of drama but at the same time… the whole point of the wager had been to try and get over her intimacy issues so she’d stop having panic attacks any time she showed some skin, if she woke up and found herself like this… he’d be lucky if she just found herself back at square one.
He hated biting the bullet. If she hadn’t been pressed against like she was he didn’t want to risk ghosting. He could probably do it, but if she woke up half way through and panicked things could go wrong very quickly.
“Isabel… Isabel, time to wake up, you can’t sleep forever.” His voice started as a whisper and then got louder when he didn’t get any reaction. ”Wake up Isa-“ He found himself gasping for breath when the ingénue suddenly squeezed his chest, shaking her head and throwing her hair across his face as she burrowed closer until her lips were almost touching his neck.
‘Goddamit. The girl was dead to the world and that apparently extended to the compulsion on the Promise. Letting out an irritated sigh Zephyr made himself as comfortable as he could and resigned himself to simply waiting until Isabel woke up.
“Lisa, good afternoon, have you seen Isabel by any chance?”
Despite the polite smile on his face, Zephyr could help the slight sense of unease as he traded idle talk with Sanctuary’s only receptionist. He’d been associated with the Order and thus Sanctuary, for nearly half a decade now and in that time Lisa had been one of the few, if not only constant in the organization over the years and he’d never seen her away from her desk.
He’d actually tried once, arranging calls in the middle of the night, stopping be when she was meant to be occupied with giving tours. He’d even tried to have her schedule some form of nonsense meeting with Lenna on one of the rare occasions the building had caught fire. Each time though, without fail, Lisa had simply given him a beaming false smile and parroted off the same politely inane response she always did.
The woman was a machine. A mutant machine he was fairly sure though he’d not yet found himself quite bored enough to try and prove it.
That being said, ever present receptionist knew more about Sanctuary and its various residents than anyone else the elemental had yet encountered and so he made it a point to try and speak with her at least once every other week if not more, and though she’d been intentionally sparse with details in the beginning, that had changed once she’d notice the correlation between reports on Isabel’s poor behavior and the sudden decrease in violence and property damage that tended to follow.
After having exchanged the usual benign palaver, Lisa at last told him that she’s last seen Duskmoor heading towards the Rec room
As he wandered down the cluttered hallways just a few minutes later Zephyr found himself reflecting that his rapport with Lisa was likely one of the more valuable relationships he’d managed to foster over the past few months. A belief that had only been enforced when she’d told him that Duskmoor had last been seen near the Rec room only a few moments after they’d finished exchanging the usual benign palaver and she’d thank him very much if he’d make sure to remind the girl that the place wasn’t made out of TV’s.
Networking at its finest, truly.
As had become his habit Zephyr allowed his thoughts to drift towards his other senses, briefly sweeping the area as he closed in on the Rec room. It wasn’t that didn’t trust Lisa, the woman tended to be right nine times out of ten, but if she wasn’t in her room Isabel rarely stayed in one place for long and he didn’t want to waste time hunting her down if he could avoid it.
That being said, the scene his senses were describing made the elemental doubt himself , even after he scanned the area again. It wasn’t until he actually entered the Rec room and saw that yes, there was in fact another girl almost sitting in Isabel’s lap, a redhead from what little he could make out with his side on view. A redhead who was encouraging the bone wielder to eat one of the apparently freshly baked cookies from the plate currently resting in her lap.
The look of utter bewilderment on Isabel’s face would have been funny if the whole thing hadn’t been so surreal.
Despite that though he couldn’t deny he was somewhat curious, from everything he knew Duskmoor had, at best two (or eight depending on how you counted one of them) people who could be described as close friends, neither of whom looked anything like the redheaded enigma sitting almost on top of her.
Tempted as he was to just sit on the sidelines to see how Isabel handled being social, a part of him knew that it would likely only take one wrong word to changes the brunettes confusion into anger, and he had implied to Lisa that he’d make sure the soubrette wouldn’t damage anything. Better to interrupt really “Ah Isa-”
He didn’t manage two words before the singing started.
It wasn’t bad, that was perhaps the most charitable he could be. The redhead certainly had a pair lungs there was no denying that and her voice didn’t grate on him in the way some singers did, but the actual song she was singing just… maybe it was just lacking some form of instrumental accompaniment, but the words and underlying rhythm by themselves just seemed, odd.
Since he didn’t have any real desire to shout or otherwise interrupt and possibly offend the odd redhead Zephyr leaned his shoulder against the rooms entrance and contented himself with watching Isabel’s perplexed expression as he waited for the song to finish. When it did he brought his hands together in a subdued yet polite set of claps as he adopted one of his more social facades, his British brogue becoming stronger as he finally spoke.
“That was quite a performance,” He gave the redhead a kind smile before he shifted his attention back to the buxom brunette. “Whose your friend Isabel? She seems like quite the singer.”
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, Zephyr thought irritably, a certain irony to his situation as he half dragged, half carried, Isabel’s inebriated form down the street, one hand holding her arm across his shoulders while the other slipped around her waist and occasionally jabbed her kidneys whenever the brunette threatened to fall asleep.
There were likely any number of men who’d gladly trade their right arm to be in the elemental’s shoes right now just for a chance to get close to someone with Duskmoor’s figure. They’d imagine how warm and soft she’d feel as she leant against them, the various unwitting views they might get as clothing became suspiciously disheveled, they might even delude themselves into thinking about how grateful she’d be when she found herself in a bed.
They never thought about how far they needed to carry her drunk ass.
Or how much said ass weighed.
That wasn’t to say Isabel was fat, far from it actually; the last few weeks at the warehouse had managed to put her in surprisingly good shape without losing any of her curves. No, the problem was that those selfsame curves, while undoubtedly appealing, also added no small amount of weight. Given that the hessian could barely do a pushup let alone a pull up, this presented something of a problem.
Admittedly he could have just flown the girl back to Sanctuary, and in fact that had been his original plan. Unfortunately NYC had something of a reputation for being the ‘city that never sleeps’ and had apparently chosen tonight to demonstrate just what an apt reputation it was. Not only were the main streets themselves full of inane drunks and other undesirables but five occupied back alleys and eight concussed muggers later, Zephyr had finally forced himself to give up on finding an appropriately secluded area to take off.
Annoyingly, his backup plan had suffered similar drawbacks; after managing to hail one of the city’s innumerable cabs, they’d barely gone five blocks before the driver pulled one abrupt stop too many and Isabel promptly spilled her guts and redecorated the interior. After that it wasn’t so much a case of being kicked out as it was trying to escape.
He never wanted to deal with enclosed spaces and projectile vomit ever again.
Ever.
By the time he’d picked both Isabel and himself up from the curb his jacket was practically ruined and one of shoes were waterlogged after stepping in a deceptively deep puddle. He’d just begun to consider the pros and cons of upending a few cars as a distraction to get airborne when he’d realized they’d been left at the front of a hotel.
Less than five minutes later and Zephyr had managed to check them into a reasonably upscale hotel room. ‘Upscale’ in this case meaning round the clock room service which get the hessian a fresh pot of coffee every other hour and a large bathroom where Duskmoor was currently curled up, clutching the toilet as though it were a stuffed animal.
Letting out a short yawn Zephyr glanced at his watch, quickly wished he hadn’t, and finished tying the soubrettes hair back with a pair of rubbed bands borrowed from the front desk. It wasn’t even 4:00am and judging from how the gamine had had to drink it would be hours before she was anything approaching conscious and even longer before she was sober.
It was going to be a long morning.
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."
Glancing at his watch Zephyr held back a yawn as he confirmed that, yes, it was in fact 2:43am and he hadn’t been mistaken the first three times he’d looked and which only went to show that time really did fly when one was having fun, or had an invested interest at least.
Still, wasn’t there a law somewhere which forced establishments like these to shut down before the sun came up? Granted the Tomb was the sort of place that only officially closed on the rare instances the police bothered to raid it but still, the elemental thought he’d be home hours ago, though in retrospect he probably should have known better, Isabel was nothing if not stubborn.
To be fair the girl had done quite well to start with, letting her various guests do most of the talking as they tried to ply her with one drink after another. She’d even flaunted her figure a few times which had drawn no little appreciation from a number of the clubs other customers.
Inevitably though, each potential paramour would try to press they’re suit, whether it was trying to hold hands, throwing a comforting arm around her shoulders or something rather less innocent, the moment they touched the soubrette it all ended in disaster as Isabel let them know in no uncertain terms just how much she valued her privacy.
It had been actually quite entertaining for the first hour or so, after that it had been like watching a train wreck; you knew it was going to be awful but you kept watching because part of you wanted to see just how bad it would be. It didn’t matter whether they were crude or charming, old or young, male or female- oh yes, there had been a number of women who’d convinced themselves they were just what Miss Duskmoor needed, one had even managed a chaste kiss before Isabel had rather forcibly removed the woman from her seat.
Still, it was now nearly 3:00am and he and Isabel were nearly the last people left at the bar and if the way she’d slumped over the counter was any indication, the soubrette was very clearly done for the night.
Holding back another yawn Zephyr left a loose collection of bills on the bar and made his way over to the intoxicated ingénue. “Come on Isabel, it’s time to go.” he told her gently as he tried to take the glass from her hand. “You made a good effort and you didn’t kill anyone, you should be proud of that.”
The vast majority of the club was kept in darkness, there was no real need for it; the building had more than enough lights but it was all part of the atmosphere. The people who came here wanted to believe that they were different, that they were part of something special. So they came to this outwardly decrepit, yet inwardly well-kept former hotel where, with but the roll of a dice, one could find fortune on the third floor, the pleasures of the bar on the second or join the mass of bodies twisting in the music of the first floor.
It was called the Tomb.
As he kept a quiet eye on Isabel from the other end of the bar Zephyr found himself wishing, not for the first time, that the name wouldn’t become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Still, there’d been no helping it, rightly or wrongly Isabel was infamous and as such there weren’t many places the girl could go without being recognized in one way or another. While there were things one could do to change their appearance nearly all of them required preparation and good deal of time, both of which had been in surprisingly short supply.
That being said, he couldn’t deny he’d been surprised at how the soubrette had turned out. Granted he had stressed that she’d need a different look if she wanted to have any chance of winning the wager but he’d still half expected her to come out with slacks and a button up, or perhaps even her old apron outfit, instead well… the hessian couldn’t help but think she might have more than just a chance.
If she didn’t kill anyone.
Shaking his head Zephyr finished his whiskey and signaled for another. He still couldn’t quite believe this was happening. A week ago, the thought of Isabel Duskmoor showing up at a bar and socializing, let alone trying to get another’s number would have made him laugh, yet it was actually happening and he found himself surprisingly torn between pity and amusement as he saw the soubrette down another drink by herself, seemingly trying to work up the courage to find someone to talk to.
She needn’t have bothered really. In a place like this a figure like hers didn’t go unnoticed for long and even as he watched the elemental saw one unwitting but hopeful individual detach itself from the crowd and join one of the city’s most feared killers.
He should have brought a camera.
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."
Regarding Isabel pensively as he waited for her to respond Zephyr reflected that, for perhaps the first time, he was having trouble getting a read one her. The girl was normally an open book after all, hardly ever trying to hide her emotions or school her features; she practically wore her heart on her sleeve. One glance at her face was typically all it took to gain an idea of how she felt, if not what she was thinking.
Hunched over as she was now though, with her head bent and waist length hair falling forward to all but cover her features, it was almost impossible to gauge the brunette’s mood. Granted, her breathing told him she’d calmed to some degree, and he knew from the way her hands were constant fretting that she was still far from comfortable. However there was nearly nothing to give him any indication of whether his words were getting through… right until she found her voice.
"Fear is what I know best. I don't know how to manipulate people any other way." “It’s never too late to learn” He told her gently, his voice warming slightly in response to the despondent tone in the gamines words even as he let out an amused breath and a slight grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Trite I know, that doesn’t make it any less true however; would you have thought a year ago that you’d be able to handle a restraining collar, let alone dismantle it?”
There was silence again for a short moment after that and for a second he’d thought he might have lost her before his senses caught the faintest trace of smile as her lips curved upwards without ever lifting her head.
"Probably a little late to try and be anything other than what I already am,"
“Even if that were true, I’m not sure I see the problem; you’re already gorgeous after all, you turn heads without even realizing it.” The elemental spoke without any hint of false sincerity, though his grin did become slightly more pronounced when he saw the ingénue cheeks redden again behind her curtain of hair.
Shameless flattery? Perhaps, but then again Isabel needed an ego boost right now, even if it did embarrass her. Besides, nothing he’d said had been untrue. There was no denying the soubrette was stunning and she did turn heads, attached or otherwise. Honestly
"Kinda difficult to, uh... 'show off my figure' when people are already so frightened. It's hard to pay attention to much when you're scared. I worked hard for that. Might be too late to change my strategy. I don't know that I could even if I tried."
“Your poster sales beg to differ.” He quickly raised a hand, “I’m not saying you need to show that much by any means.” ‘Though it certainly wouldn’t hurt.’ He thought to himself. “I just don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.”
“Yes, you’ve worked hard to get a dangerous reputation, but it’s not going to vanish overnight and there’s no reason you can’t build on it. I honestly think you’d be surprised at what you could achieve, in fact…”
The hessian paused, his thoughts finally catching with where his words were leading. Was it really a good idea to try this right now? After what she’d just been through? Perhaps he should give her a few days to- No, now was probably the best time, while the idea was still at the front of her thoughts and she was out of her shell.
“I’m willing to make a wager” He spoke slowly, doing his best not to smirk when Isabel’s finally started to lift her head as he curiosity got the better of her. “Two weeks away from the warehouse, no running, no digging, a chance to sleep in. If-”
He paused, raising a hand to make his point and ensure he had the soubrette’s full attention. “If, you can convince someone, without threats or violence, to give you their personal number purely because they want to see you again.”
“What do you say?”
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 entire time Isabel spoke Zephyr remained motionless, his expression hidden behind clasped hands as he listened to the soubrette’s story without a word, offering neither comfort nor judgment even when her tears began to fall. She wouldn’t care for his opinion, she certainty wouldn’t want his pity and she was too proud to accept his help.
So he gave her nothing, content to have simply provided an outlet for emotions which had obviously been buried for years and which were clearly taking their toll. With every passing moment the girls breaths grew shorter, her eyes shed more tears and her words became thicker as she tried to choke down the sobs until even that became too much and she finally began crying in earnest.
He’d no idea how much time had passed when Isabel’s sobs began to fade, it could have been minutes, it could have been an hour, he hadn’t tried to keep count. Something like this… you couldn’t bury your feelings forever, they came to the surface sooner or later and when they did all you could do was wait for them to pass.
Katrina had taught him that, years ago.
When Isabel’s breaths eventually calmed, Zephyr slowly started to move again, quietly offering his handkerchief to the soubrette when she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze and giving her a few precious moments to clean her face while he gathered his thoughts.
While he’d looked into Isabel’s past and even seen part of it to some degree, it wasn’t the same as hearing it from the girl herself. Her thoughts and opinions coloured everything she said, her final words especially had been a veritable gold mine in terms of finally gaining some grasp of how her mind worked.
She believed her life had been a nightmare, hated it. Hated that she hadn’t been strong enough; that she’d tried so hard to stop the worst moments of her life but ultimately couldn’t. Couldn’t accept that there were things beyond her, only made her wish she was stronger. Strong enough to make everyone fear her; make them forget how afraid she herself had once been so that maybe she’d forget as well.
It was a mess, yet he couldn’t help but see a part of himself in it. When he’d first left home years ago he’d been drunk on his own power. He’d thought he was invincible, that he was strong enough to do whatever he wanted and had made a point of making sure people knew.
He’d been an idiot.
It’s amazing what a near death experience can teach you though. He’d realized how foolish it was to let the opinions of others influence him so easily. Come to comprehend that you didn’t need to change everyone’s view, only a few. Learned it was far better to be underestimated than feared.
Isabel hadn’t.
Taking a deep breath Zephyr closed his eyes briefly as he marshaled his thoughts, he’d likely only get one shot at this and need to make it count. “I can’t pretend to understand everything you’ve been through Isabel. Our lives have been different, each with their own challenges, but if there is one thing we have in common it’s that we both want to be strong, to be powerful.”
“There’s different kinds of power though, fear is one true but so is friendship, respect, religion, loyalty, love and yes even lust to name just a few. They’re all different ways of achieving the same goal; to control people, to make them do what you want. Why should you limit yourself to just one?
“You’re beautiful Isabel, you have to know that. There are women who’d kill to look like you, have you any idea how much influence that gives you, how much power? Not just with men either; there are so many insecure women in the world who are scared and jealous of those who look better than themselves. I’d wager you could make Miss Ralls green with envy with just a little effort.”
“Perhaps most importantly though, one type of power doesn’t preclude the other. Showing off your figure isn’t a weakness unless you want it to be. There’s no reason you can’t be fearsome and beautiful. Think about it, why shouldn’t you be both?”
When he sensed Isabel had finally taken her seat back at the table turned back to the soubrette, quietly taking in her armor along with her flushed features and the tears gathering in her eyes as she stared down at her lap. He could practically feel the slight hitch in her breath which caused her shoulders to shake every few seconds.
Condensing the air beneath to form his seat Zephyr sat down opposite the soubrette, moving the half made gun on the tabletop to one side and placing his elbows there instead as he rested his chin in his hands as he quietly cursed himself.
He’d known that he’d have to watch his words after the compulsion had set in, known how easy it was to for a literal meaning to stray from the intended one. This shouldn’t have happened, he’d fully expected Isabel to bring up her armor before anything started coming off, but instead the girl’s phobia had kicked in the moments her hands started moving and she’d become a veritable deer in the headlights.
Letting out a frustrated sigh he stalled for a few seconds more before speaking, his words low and apologetic. “For what little it’s worth, I’m sorry.” There was little point trying to hide the fact he was responsible at this stage. “I had no intention of making you do that and if it ever happens again you have every right to fight me.”
“That being said, I want you to try and come down so we can talk about this.” He gestured vaguely at brunettes armored form. “There’s nothing wrong with modesty, everyone has it to some degree, but you seem to be terrified of anyone seeing anything below your shoulders.”
He paused again as the ingénue seemed to curl in on herself and he debated his next words, considering what he’d already done, forcing the compulsion again wouldn’t improve the situation. At the same time though he doubted Isabel would answer anything in her current state. He wrestled with himself for a few seconds before ultimately coming to a compromise.
“Tell me why… please.”
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."
Keeping track of Isabel from the corner of his eye as the girl made her way to the table Zephyr resisted the urge to sigh when the soubrette demonstrated her amused disdain for the marbles. Yet another of the ingénues bad habits was that she tended to jump to conclusions far too often, sadly that was folly that could only be countered with experience and so the elemental occupied with transferring the sea green marbles from the sack into the jar, tilting the former at an angle so they wouldn’t spill from the pipe before he spoke.
“Isabel, I’ve seen you take a round of buckshot to the stomach without flinching, I know ‘marbles’ aren’t going to scare you. Give me more credit than that.”
Keeping the jar at its oblique angle with a simple cushion of air Zephyr returned his attention to the duffel bag and began withdrawing a number of oddly shaped plastic components along with a thin metal pipe roughly two feet long. He’d just begun to assemble the various pieces into the far more familiar shape of a firearm when Duskmoor resumed her age old past time of whining and the elemental started tuning her out out of habit, only paying attention to every other word or so.
“…cover my clothes? -any idea how uncomfortable… so stupid”
Giving a thoughtful hum, the elemental replied with casual shrug as he continued to search for a section of plastic tubing. “Ah, I thought that might be an issue. Just take them off then, you won’t need them.” He told her without looking as he finally found the fuel line and began connecting it to the compressed air canister.
By the time he did look back up the buxom brunette had already removed her shirt and her hands were behind her back working on the fastener for her bra when two rather vital items of note caught Zephyr’s attention; firstly that the girl hadn’t raised her armor and so he found himself seeing rather more of the soubrette than he usually did as his eyes instinctively trailed from her bare naval to the top of her shoulders.
Appealing as Isabel’s figure was though, it perhaps wasn’t surprising that the second thing the hessian noted was that her face had turned crimson and her eyes were wide in disbelief as she felt her hands finally unhook her bra without her apparent consent.
“No,no, just stop.” Zephyr rested his head in his hand as he gave the order before the girl could push the garment off her shoulders. It didn’t take a genius to realize what had happened, and while a part of would have loved to just watch the show, the rest of him… didn’t.
He was better than that.
Still, as he regarded Isabel again he realized that this was something that had to be discussed. The girl had fallen into a crouch the moment he’d finished speaking, hugging her knees to her chest as she tried to hide as much of herself as possible and she was visible trembling.
Yes, they needed to talk about this.
“Cover yourself up.” He told as he purposefully turned his back to give her gamine some semblance of privacy. “Once you’re done make a chair and sit here.” He indicated the table behind him by jabbing him thumb over his shoulder. “We’re going to talk about this, and you're not getting up until we’re done.”
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 past few weeks had finally started to fall into something of a routine. Every other morning Zephyr would park the same worn down pickup truck in a blind alley behind sanctuary shortly before dawn. He’d then call Isabel to wake her, after which he’d have 15-30 minutes to read the morning papers before the soubrette shambled into the car and they’d be on their way.
The journey itself nearly always passed in silence, or as close as one could get with the trucks ancient carburetors and their incessant droning, which did nothing for the elementals constant migraines and often prompted him to take his morning ‘medication’ if he’d not done so already. Duskmoor meanwhile tended to either nurse her morning dose of caffeine or would somehow let the engine lull her back to sleep.
Upon reaching the warehouse Zephyr generally proceeded to have the gamine literally run herself into the ground over 2-3 hours while he finished the morning papers and jotted down anything of particular note. Admittedly the process wasn’t quite that smooth as Isabel would often begin whining before the first hour had finished but she rarely had the breath to keep it up for long.
This time though the hessian was going to try something different, he’d actually wanted to broaden the ingénue training somewhat sooner, but after her poor behavior following the digging episode he’d decided to give the girl time to… appreciate her current schedule.
When he stepped inside and saw the soubrette almost immediately slide down the nearest wall , raising her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms about her legs, he began to wonder whether he should have perhaps waited another week. Especially when the buxom brunette gave one of the longest yawns he’d ever seen and glared at him balefully from red shot eyes before announcing, yet again, his apparently abhorrent contribution to the human race.
It was almost tradition.
Well, not quite, the bloodshot eyes were a new feature though considering what he’d smelled on her breath during the drive over the hessian wouldn’t say he was surprised. Still he refrained from commenting, there hadn’t been any news of massacres or unusual property damage thus far and so until it became a problem he didn’t see any need to ban the girl from drinking.
“Good morning to you as well Isabel.” His words were blithe as always, carrying neither offence nor amusement as he lowered the two duffel bags he’d carried from the car down beside a simple folding table set up nearby. “On your feet if you please, we’re going to try something a little different today.”
Lifting the first duffel bag with a slight effort Zephyr set it down on the table and spent a few moments sorting through its contents as he spoke. “If you recall a week or so ago you started digging a tunnel for me and for most of that time you wore your armor above your skin.”
A small sack containing what appeared to be green marbles was withdrawn from the duffel bag along with an oddly shaped jar with pipe jutting from one side. “I’d like you to raise that same armor now and if possible I’d like it to cover your clothes as well.”
One of these days Isabel would be able to move on from infantile antics.
As he stared at the oval shaped dome in the center of the warehouse’s crater and heard the ingénues singsong chant of defiance though, the elemental knew that it would not be this day, nor any day in the near future. As he withdrew his phone and pulled up Duskmoors number though, he found that for now, he didn’t quite mind.
There’s a reason church bells are as loud as they are you see, their domed shape traps the air inside and as a result any vibrations, such as ringtones, build and amplify each other in much the same way a voice echoes through a canyon. What many people don’t realize, or tend to over look is that, as loud as a bell can be on the outside, the volume more than triples on the inside.
Granted, Isabel’s shell wasn’t quite a bell but the principle was still the same nonetheless. He was doing her a favour really; the soubrette clearly hadn’t had the benefit of a high school education so she’d never been given the opportunity to properly acquaint herself with the various branches of science. She was going to learn a valuable lesson today.
Keeping a polite, if somewhat smug smile in place, Zephyr merely gave Isabel a condescending nod when the girl spun around to face him, taking no small amount of satisfaction from the look of frustration and indignation on her features. The gamine really was far too easy to lead; it was a shame in some ways as it limited what he could trust her with. Still he’d make us of it while he could, if for no other reason than it amused him to guide Duskmoor along like a blind puppet.
So when the girl abruptly spun back around and called his bluff, the elemental was surprised, impressed and slightly annoyed all at once. He’d never known the soubrette to willingly disregard a blow to her much vaunted reputation; granted he hadn’t been precisely subtle but it was still an indication of progress, even if it was in baby steps.
Still, he’d rather been banking on the ingénue caving to his provocations, and thus her refusal to play along left him at something of a loss, or it would have if he’d actually been foolish enough to dial Sanctuary.
‘This is Simon Smith, leave a message at the tone.’
Ignoring the urge to roll his eyes at he was about to do Zephyr adopted his cheerful cadence from earlier as the answering machine gave its signal. “Ah good morning Lisa, why am I not surprised to find you at your desk at this hour?” Shifting his gaze back to Isabel he tried to gauge her reaction as he continued, “I was hoping you might do me a favour…”
After leaving himself a suitably convincing message inquiring as to the youngest Phausts whereabouts Zephyr lowered his phone and gave his indolent protégé a measuring look as he pocketed the device. “Now then, what to do with you? Since you’re already here but you don’t want to dig we may as well start on your exercise. 50 laps of the warehouse should 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."
Zephyr treated the ingénues outburst with silence, barely reacting as he leaned against one of the cargo crates and watched her with narrow eyes. He knew from experience that there was little point in trying to talk over the girl, and while he could have silenced her the elemental knew it would only serve to delay the inevitable tantrum the soubrette was building towards.
No, far better to let her vent and resolve the matter now while she was still manageable, rather than letting her foul mood fester into something more volatile. While the hessian doubted she’d be foolish enough to try and attack him, there wasn’t anything stopping her from releasing her frustrations on the building itself and tearing it down around their heads.
For all the gamines caviler complaints though the hessian couldn’t prevent the slight sense of gratification when a visible layer of ossein armor flowed across the brunettes skin, straining her torn attire even further as it covered her from head to toe like a living latex cat suit. The girl was learning to listen, if grudgingly.
That being said, there was always room for improvement, it simply required sufficient motivation.
“I see.” The elementals words were oddly apathetic as he idly removed a small cylinder from his jacket and tipped two small tablets into his hand. “Well, if you’re too scared to keep going I suppose there’s no helping it.” There was an ever so slight emphasis in the elementals words as he spoke and when Isabel’s back stiffened in response he couldn’t help but grin.
The girl had more buttons than a church organ.
Deftly swallowing the pair of pills in the silence of his first statement the hessian calmly carried on. “What was the name of that girl Phaust adopted, the little redhead? Katie wasn’t it?” Pulling out his phone Zephyr made a short show of scrolling through his contacts. “She might not have much in regards to finesse but she isn’t afraid of explosions, surprising for a ten year old really.”
Subtly increasing the volume on his phone the elemental slowly began to dial, drawing out each number to ensure Isabel could hear it and watching her twitch each time as he continued with just a faint taunting tone. “I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic to learn she can do something the fearsome Miss Duskmoor cannot.”
He raised the phone to his ear, and waited.
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."
Keeping an oblique eye on the soubrette as she sat down and began her work Zephyr wandered over to a set of still relatively intact cargo containers. He’d originally been attempting to stack them against the front wall to inventory them later, given the rather… inordinate ordnance he’d encountered thus far, it would be prudent to exercise a certain measure of caution. While he could survive another explosion, that didn’t make the experience any less unpleasant.
That, and he’d only brought so many spare clothes.
The elemental paused at that thought, shifting his attention away from the containers as his head craned back towards Isabel. The girl appeared more bored than anything, glaring glumly at the gradually growing hole in front of her as her ossein appendages tore away at the mass of collapsed concrete, occasionally lifting the tattered ends of her shirt to reveal flashes of pale skin. Nothing to indicate whether her typical defenses were in place, which was both a blessing and a curse.
“I don’t know if I made this clear Isabel,” he called as he tried to catch her eye, “But I don’t have any reason to believe that the bomb I found is the only one. You might want something more than your usual armor.”
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."
