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.
A sudden rumble shook the air, causing the floor to tremble and forcing Zephyr to tear his eyes away from the screen before him for a split second as he took in the city scape below, his gaze sweeping over the collective mob in the streets and the pillars of smoke rising from cars and storefronts alike before he caught sight of the deluge of dust as the corner of a nearby office building collapsed.
The city was officially in a state of anarchy. The riots had begun barely two hours ago and in that time the NYPD had proved how truly ill equipped they were to deal with mass mutant offenders. By all accounts thus far only the 37th precinct had managed to make any headway in restoring order and that was only because it housed the MRC division.
Funny how much easier it was to deal with mutants when you had some on your side.
Still that wasn’t the elemental’s concern, he had far more important matters to attend to; appalling and devastating as the riots might be, they also presented a prime opportunity for anyone willing to take advantage. Even now the NYSE and NASDAQ were tumbling and the hessian was doing his best to capitalize on it.
What was the old axiom? Buy low, sell high? Well, prices wouldn’t be much lower than this for some time. Real estate values would end up taking a hit as well but they wouldn’t really reach rock bottom until there’d been a chance to survey the damage.
Switching his gaze back to his laptop Zephyr settled himself back in the lawn chair he’d dragged up to Sanctuary’s roof, or rather the one he’d had Duskmoor drag up for him. Speaking of which…
He checked on the girls position and noted that she’d once again moved a few feet closer to the roofs edge while he’d been distracted.
“Don’t even think about it Isabel, get your chair back here and behave.”
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."
Giving his own sigh, Zephyr closed his book with a soft snap as he turned to meet Isabel’s morose gaze. “Smashing them might be easier yes, but it’s far from a feasible solution.” He told her in a somewhat weary tone, “How are you going to smash them if you’re somehow caught again? Your power is amazing versatile Isabel but you can’t rely on it for everything.”
Slipping the thin volume into his jack pocket Zephyr brought his chair back round to the gamines work table, sweeping aside some of the electronic detritus with his foot before taking a seat opposite the ingénue as he regarded both her and collar resting on the now slightly dented table.
“If you really want to go I won’t stop you.” He rolled his eyes and held up a hand as the soubrette immediately started to rise. “Hear me out first, I won’t force you to stay but I thought this was something you wanted to learn?” he asked, posing the question without disdain or disappointment. “You didn’t even want to come down until I told you we’d be dismantling the collars, have you really changed your mind?” He searched her face as he talked trying to catch her gaze or find some form of answer as she stayed silent.
“It’s not easy, I know that.” He continued as he picked one of the few remaining collars and set it down next to the soubrettes. “Nothing worth knowing ever is, but you’re allowed to ask for help.” He paused for a moment and his eyes fell to the two collars as he considered his next words before he glanced back up.
“You shouldn’t be afraid to ask me for help Isabel. The worst I can do is say no, but I think you may be pleasantly surprised. Now…” He picked up one of the collars in one hand and a thin screw driver with the other before gesturing for the girl to do the same.
“Let’s make you never have to worry about these again, just follow copy me and we’ll go through it step by step. 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."
Staring blankly at the book in his hand Zephyr tracked Isabel’s progress out of the corner of his eye. He’d learned rather quickly that the buxom brunette didn’t appreciate having others hover over her while she worked.
Especially when she didn’t know what she was doing.
Following up on his promise from their last meeting he’d called, or rather bribed, the soubrette down to the Orders training room almost two hours ago and had set her down at a simple metal table lined with a collection of delicate tools. A few short minutes had been spent describing the purpose of each one before he’d drawn a crude, but still serviceable, Russian restraining collar from a duffle bag and proceeded to use the aforementioned tools to take deftly pry the device apart in under than a minute.
After that, the elemental had drawn a second collar from the bag and told Isabel to have at it.
At which point she’d turned her fist into a sledgehammer and promptly crushed the machine into so much scrap.
The third collar had suffered a similar fate, the fourth however lasted almost ten minutes as the girl tried, and failed to mimic the hessians earlier efforts to dismantle it. He’d had to chastise her for cheating when she’d tried to use her mutation to take the thing apart at which point she’d simply hurled the collar against the far wall.
She was now on the fifth collar, which had somehow managed to outlast the twenty minute mark, leaving Zephyr to privately wonder how many more times the girl would lose her temper before she thought to ask for help.
Well actually no, he didn’t. The answer was five which, coincidentally, was just how many collars he had left.
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."
Once Rowan was set down Zephyr had the small puppet dance its way to the far end of the table prompting the child to give chase as he began to awkwardly shuffle around the coffee table leaving a haphazard trail of hand prints as he did so. Fighting the urge to sigh Zephyr instead rolled his eyes, there would be time to clean up after the child later, for now though the boy needed to be kept out of the way, given what he was about to do, the few distractions the elemental had to deal, with the better.
"Should I... Do something?"
Zephyr didn’t reply immediately, instead taking a few moments to continue baiting his nephew before floating the magical marionette across the room and letting it collapse on the floor in full view of both himself and his sister. With any luck Rowan it would keep Rowans attention for at least a few minutes.
With that done he rose from his chair and waved Maya back to the couch as he set himself down beside her. “Hopefully you won’t need to do anything; all I need is your hand.” He offered his own arm as he spoke, watching as a look of uncertainty and confusion flashed across her face before she complied and rested her hand in his.
“I’m going to… ghost you,” A slight smile tugged at his lips at the poor pun and he let a faint note of amusement briefly enter his voice, his words deliberately slow as he tried to keep his sisters eyes on his in an effort to keep her at ease. “I’m going to do it slowly; to make sure I don’t miss anything. When I’m done, I’ll change you back and I’ll have a much clearer picture of the state you’re in."
He shifted on the couch slight as he turned to face Ghost more fully without letting go of her hand. “I can only do this if you trust me Maya, we won’t get anywhere if you fight me, so just relax and keep an eye on Rowan and I’ll be done before you know it.”
After all, he’d already managed to ghost her entire arm and most of her shoulder while they’d been speaking, and if she hadn’t noticed that well, the rest should be simple.
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."
"I wouldn't mind seeing them taken apart, though. Those things are only ever good in pieces or destroyed completely."
Tying the corners of the handkerchief into a rough knot to form a crude sack a slight smile found its way onto Zephyr’s face as he listened to Isabel with half an ear. For all the harm his little ploy with the collar had caused, learning one of the girls deepest fears made it a price well worth paying. Now perhaps he could finally start working on the girls other skills… such as they were.
“Ah, something we can agree on at last.” He finished tying the knot and lifted his gaze back to the sullen soubrette, trying once again to catch her eye. “I’ve spent some time learning how to deal with the different collars and bracelets, I could teach you how to do the same, among other things, if you’d like.” He told her, carefully omitting precisely how he’d come across such knowledge. Mutants who fought for the government during the registration act weren't exactly unheard, few though they were, but the number who managed to live in the wake of the camps were fewer still.
“I wouldn’t be doing this out of the goodness of my heart of course.” The smile shifted into a slight smirk and a faint tone of amusement entered his voice as he mocked himself. “You know me better than that I hope. No, what I’d ask in return Isabel is that you remain discreet in your various… endeavors.”
He paused for a moment to gauge the Isabel’s reaction and upon seeing the mixture of confusion and suspicion on her features he swiftly clarified. “In short I don’t want to see you on the news, I don’t want to hear about you on the streets, I want people to forget about you, for now at least.”
“In return, we’ll meet once or twice a week and I’ll show you to deal with a different type of collar or something similar. I may also,” He paused again and glanced meaningfully at his jacket pocket as the envelopes inside shuffled slightly against the ingénues ribs. “give you homework from time to time, though I’ll do my best to keep it interesting.”
Shifting into a crouched position the elemental picked up the handkerchief containing the collars various electronics and then stood up. “For now though I think it would be best if we stopped here, I daresay you have a lot to think about. Remember what I said though, things will be far easier if you talk to me and anything you tell me in private will stay that way." He offered her his arm “Now would you like a hand up or should I leave?”
“It’s somewhat difficult to miss yes.” He replied with a note of faint amusement, leaning back in the chair as he rested his chin in one hand and blindly set his cupcake atop a side table with the other. A ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as he watched Maya twirl her hair back and forth as she bounced her son on one leg to the boy’s obvious delight. “I trust it’s more than simply a fashion statement?” He’d never known Ghost to be quite that fickle but then she could be surprisingly stubborn at times, almost childishly so provided one provoked her properly.
Not that he was speaking from past experience of course, purposefully needling the girl on and off for three weeks just to learn what got under her skin would have been an entirely jejune and impractical exercise.
The fact that it had been immensely amusing was entirely beside the point.
Entertaining though such memories were, as the hessian listened to his sister, a good deal of his humour escaped him and he adopted an idle yet pensive mien. A number of thoughts vied for dominance in his mind as he considered Maya’s words.
Of the two of them she’d always been more skilled in the art of incorporeality; she could become ethereal almost instantly, take others with her without any visible strain and hold the state for hours, possibly days if she felt the need. There was a downside however; she didn’t have his control and so with every shift, she lost a piece of herself. It wasn’t a substantial amount, more akin to a single grain of sand from an hour glass than anything else, but it never came back.
Inevitably, as time passed, Maya became less and less tangible, losing flesh and gaining air in its place as her mutation tried to compensate until it was happening even when she was solid. It had actually been one of the first things Simon had noticed about her when he’d met in her central park all those years ago, before he’d known who she truly was.
He’d actually tried to raise the subject once before, but he’d never had a solid understanding of the transformation. While it might have been as natural as breathing to his sister, for him it was more like to dragging himself over broken glass. Not painful per say, the ethereal state couldn’t feel pain, it was the intrinsic fear which came with knowing that you were essentially tearing yourself apart and that you might not come back.
Dismissing such thoughts Simon returned himself to the task at hand, there’d be time for nostalgia later. “I can certainly try,” he told her diplomatically, “Give me just a moment and I’ll see what I can find.” He then closed his eyes and allowed his awareness to stretch out towards his sister, trying to what was and what wasn’t.
After a few a short moment his eyes opened and he looked a Maya with an uncertain expression. “My memory’s not perfect,” he began, “but-”
He broke off abruptly as Rowan made a low impatient sound, small arms outstretched in the mercenary’s directions, somewhat breaking the elementals train of thought as he focused on the boy. He’d never actually dealt with a child quite so young before (though it was tempting to say Duskmoor came close), and he was somewhat hesitant to actually handle the boy.
And so he created a distraction.
Tucked away at the other end of the room, a small marionette made of wood and dressed as a wizard rattled for brief moment as its limbs shook free of the entangling strings before suddenly rising from its shelf by the TV and gliding across the room as though it were a paper plane.
The puppet landed in an ungainly heap on the corner of coffee table and promptly collapsed into an ungainly heap before the strings above it went taught and the little wizard began to pick itself up with a slow and exaggeratedly clumsy motion, bashing it’s head on the table once or twice to ensure it had the small child’s attention.
Once the miniature marionette managed to gain its feet however it faced Rowan and offered the boy a small bow and then, of all things, began to tap dance to the tune of ‘Row, Row, Fight the Power! Row your Boat’ as the fingers of Simons left hand twitched in time with the puppets movements just behind the armrest of his seat.
“As I was saying Maya, my memory’s not perfect but there’s less of you than I remember. That being said, your..." He paused searching for the right word before frowning and giving a slight shake of his head. “I suppose ‘essence’ will have to do, it’s far less frayed than it was and that’s slowed the decay immensely but I can’t tell if it’s actually stopped, still there’s something I’d like to try however you might want to set Rowan down first.”
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 cupcake was lowered from his face and for a brief moment Simon had a clear view of his sister and her son until the aforementioned confectionary was all but pushed into his short before he managed to bring his hands up to catch it.
While he juggled the unexpected treat in his hands Maya did the same with Rowan, swinging the child up from the floor and into her arms so that, by the time the hessian glanced back up, he was staring back at the boys own azure eyes as the child gleefully flailed an arm back and forth.
"Rowan, say hi to uncle Simon. Come on. Say hi!”[/color]
Somewhat bemused at the sight Zephyr raised his own arm in response and waved back despite himself, causing the boy to clap his hands excitedly as he broke into a fit a giggles.
"We're not interrupting anything are we?" [/color]
Switching his attention back to his sister the hessian shook his head softly as Maya tried to crane her head around him to glance inside. She’d always been somewhat nosy for someone who was typically quite demure. Still, this time at least, there was no harm in her looking and so he stepped back to let her inside. “Not at all, this is actually a pleasant surprise, do come in.”[/color]
The British elemental led his unexpected guests into the living room, a simple space with a couch and two armchairs forming a ‘U’ around a coffee table with a fair sized television across from the couch. After gesturing for his sister to take the couch Simon selected the nearest armchairs and contented himself for a few moments as Maya played with her son and tried to settle him into a managelable position.
"How have you been?" [/color]
Simon tilted his head slightly at that, if anything that was a question he should be asking. Annoyingly though he had no real right to press Maya on where’d she’d been or what had happened to her and she likely knew it, even if she was too polite to come out and say it. That being said, turn about was fair play.
“Fair enough considering…”[/color] He trailed off briefly as he considered all he’d gone through lately. The Order had managed to leverage the city into a relatively stable state of affairs and so there’d been little call for his particular line of work, which meant of course that he’d been spending an increasing amount of time dealing with Duskmoor and various little eccentrics, though he had started to make some considerable progress in recent days.
He nearly sighed; when exactly had dealing with a homicidal maniac become routine?
“What about you Maya? We’ve not seen each other for quite some time, how are things?”[/color]
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."
Why was he doing this? Zephyr almost chuckled at the question. The girl made it sound so simple; as if there were only a single reason behind his actions rather half a dozen, and that didn’t even begin to cover the myriad of explanations he could give. Still it was probably for the best that the gamine thought in such a linear manner; it would make her far easier to manage until he could persuade her to a more practical paradigm.
That being said, he did need to give Isabel an answer. To buy himself a few moments to think he drew a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to start gathering the smaller collar components with a quiet nonchalance as he considered his next words.
Should he tell her that he’d needed to make some type of conciliatory gesture to mitigate the damage he’d sowed? Furthermore, than in using an older inferior model of the collar, the act cost him practically nothing while, in the soubrettes eyes he'd just shown her to overcome one of her greatest fears had had likely gained more of her trust than she herself realized?
No, direct as Isabel was, he rather doubted she’d appreciate quite so blunt a truth.
Could he, perhaps, say that he just wanted to be her friend? That within her, he saw someone with the potential to make things so much better; both for herself and mutant kind, if only she was brave enough let someone help her? That he wanted to show her what life could truly be like, that there was more to living than ending the lives of others?
Tempting but no, even dazed and confused as she was the gamine wouldn’t believe that for a moment.
Maybe he should simply tell the girl it was her own damn fault. That if she hadn’t made it a point to butcher the NYPD at every opportunity, hadn’t wound up on the nightly news as often as the weather then perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed her. That if she’d been just a little more circumspect about her power, hadn’t revealed exactly what she was capable of at King Pharmaceuticals, than he might not have even cared about her. That if she hadn’t been such an immature bitch her entire life maybe she would’ve had friends; friends who could have helped her right now.
Again tempting, and so true that the gamine couldn’t rationally deny, but he didn’t need to shake her self-confidence any more today.
“A game? I suppose that’s one way to look at it.” He answered softly as he placed one of the last pieces. “Would you agree that most of our time until now has been spent fighting each other?” He waited until he heard her mumbled affirmation before lifting his gaze from the pieces on the floor to her faintly blushing features.
”And did you enjoy any part of it? No? Nor did I.” Still waiting for the girl to look at him Zephyr moved his hand into her view, palm held out for the screw she continued to toy with. “Surprising as it may seem I don’t enjoy fighting you Isabel. I can and I will, but honestly I’d rather not. We shouldn’t fight each other.”
It didn’t take him long to catch the hints of anger on her face after that and he quickly continued before she could build any steam. “I’m not saying you can’t argue; if you can prove me wrong on something I will gladly concede the point, but we can only do that if we talk. Just talk to me Isabel. You don’t want to fight me, and talking is so much easier.”
He paused at that, wanting to give the buxom brunette a few seconds to digest the words and recognize the offer for what it was; a chance to well… not clean the slate precisely (he doubted she’d let go of a grudge so easily), but at least make it acceptably grubby.
He therefore felt no small amount of satisfaction when the shapely soubrette stopped twirling the the last remaining screw between her fingers and hesitantly dropped it into his waiting hand.
He gestured to the pile of electronics gathered on the napkin in front of him. “Tell me Isabel, would you want to see something like this again?”
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."
Staring intently over interlaced fingers, focused azure eyes tracked the only noticeable movement in the room as the queen of hearts lifted itself from the bottom of the deck and rose into the air, spinning steadily as it did so. Once it was a foot or so above the deck the cards course shifted and it began to drift towards the pyramid in the center of the room.
Mutant powers had been well documented for over a decade, despite this though very little was actually known about them. Oh, some scientist somewhere had managed to isolate and name a particular piece of genetic code that was apparently the root cause, but that didn’t actually explain anything. How had this particular piece of genetics come about? Why was it present in some but not others who otherwise shared the same genetic background? What caused it to change from active to dormant? How was it that the same piece of code could generate such a diverse range of abilities? Why were some stronger than others?
It was the last point in particular which the held the preponderance of Simons interest. Admittedly, there was shortage of theories on the subject ranging from environmental factors such as radiation all the way to the more eccentrical explanations revolving around magic and aliens.
Privately though, Simon was of the opinion that a good many people over thought the issue. Yes mutations were fascinating and at first glance could seem beyond belief. Ultimately though they were controlled by the mind and so were merely a different form of muscle, and as with any muscle the more strain which was placed upon it the stronger it would become.
The Queen of hearts hovered almost absently atop the highest plateau of the pyramid before it was abruptly joined by the jack of the spades, then the 4 of clubs, the eight of diamonds and a flurry of others as the remainder of the deck was swept into the air and began to circle the room like a disorganized school of fish. Every few seconds however a pair or more of cards would flicker free of the swarm and dart towards pyramid building upon themselves as they added or expanded new levels to the structure, each one placed with utmost care in order to avoid-
‘Knock! Knock!’ [/i]
The pyramid collapsed into a scattered heap three feet above the floor and simply lay there as Simon released an irritated sigh, pinching his nose even as he raised the stop watch in his other hand. Three minutes 34 seconds, hardly his best but far from his worst; he’d spent too long making a level base for the cards to stand on and had been rushing by the end.
Rising from his leather arm chair Simon directed the heap of cards with an almost absent minded gesture as he sent them flying towards a slim plastic funnel set above an even thinner bin the corner of the living room which began to give off a low hum almost immediately as it sensed the cards and began to sort and shuffle them.
Shaking his head slightly to clear the faintest echoes of a headache the British born hessian cast his awareness out towards his unexpected guest as he strode towards the front door, only to frown, and then pause at what he found.
It had long become habit for him to track and measure those around him using the air displaced by their bodies. It was similar to sonar in a way, but far less limited. Until now he could have counted the number of times someone had evaded or otherwise fooled his spatial perceptions when he’d actively focused on it on one hand.
His sister had been all bar one of those times.
A sister he hadn’t seen in over a year.
Abruptly moving with a sight more speed than he had a few moments ago the elemental unlocked the front security door and swept it open without even glancing through the peep hole and nearly ran face first into cupcake in Maya’s outstretched hand.
And it was Maya, even without her signature white hair her she was all but mistakable if you knew what to look for; the same pale skin, the same slight build that all but mirrored his own and, more subtly, the lack displacement as the air flowed slightly through her instead of around her except… except-
‘Happy birthday!’[/color]
Simon blinked, losing his train of thought and going briefly cross eyed as the cupcake was again put in front of his vision before he stepped back to glance at his sister who merely gave him a shy smile.
“Maya? Wha- How?“[/color] He stopped and shook his head as he tried to find what he wanted to say. He’d never really had much experience with family; what did one say to a sister who’d all but vanished for a year? After a second or so though he returned Maya smile with a slight grin of his own. When did you get back?[/color]
A small noise at about knee level made him glance down and it was at that point that his eyes widened as he recalled what Ghost had told him right before she’d started her self imposed exile. She’d been pregnant.
Pregnancy, apparently, didn’t last that long.
“…I take it this is Rowan?” [/color]
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 remained silent as Isabel talked, after everything he’d done to get her started he wasn’t about to interrupt her. Instead he just watched her, taking in her expression, the tone of her voice, even her posture as her thoughts and words wandered from one topic to the next.
He’d been trying for some time now to build a mental profile for the girl, to better understand and influence her, and while he’d been able to glean fair amount from her past, discerning how she thought was another matter entirely. That required conversation, discussion, something that amounted to more than jejune arguments.
He finally had that, thus he listened and he watched, even as he did his best to ignore the buxom brunettes soaked shirt and the way it clung her skin, revealing every curve and contour of her figure. A task which would have been far easier if either her shirt or undergarment had been any colour but white.
Inevitably though it proved easier to simply close his eyes and remove the temptation, leaving him to watch the girl with his other senses. Much as he enjoyed the view, he wasn’t about to risk losing what little ground he’d just gained by offending the offending the girls somewhat excessive sense of decency. It was along that same line of thought that, when Isabel’s final whispered words came to an end, the first thing the elemental did was remove his jacket and offer it to her while keeping pointedly keeping his head turned in the opposite direction.
When he turned his gaze back to the girl a few moments later it was with a somber expression on his face as he sat cross legged in front of her, the collar held lightly over his knee in one hand. “I’ve been trying to get you to talk to me for some time Isabel. To get some idea of how you think so that we wouldn’t have to fight.”
He sighed and dropped his gaze to the collar turning it over in both his hands as he thought. “I’d hoped that when we did talk it would be a lighter subject but that wasn’t the case.” He glanced back at her and offered a tired smile which was far from feigned. “Talking about the things that scare us is never easy, if they were, we wouldn’t fear them. Still you’ve done it and now I’m going to help you; I’m going to help you feel a little less useless and little less scared.”
“The technology behind the collars was initially funded by the church of humanity. The original goal was to create a device capable of detecting mutants from a distance. Instead though…” He trailed off briefly as he took the collar in both hands, making a short show of pulling back a spring loaded switch. “They created this.”
The smaller segmented sections of the collar abruptly retracted into a larger central plate, changing its shape from a ring to a gently curing arc roughly six inches long with a series of coloured LED’s on the outer side. Zephyr turned the device over in his hands, revealing what could perhaps best be described as copper plated veins interspersed with a line of small silver discs which he traced with his thumb.
“These are electrodes; simply put they are sensors which can tell a mutant mind tries to access its powers.” The hessian flipped device over again and outlined an area directly beneath the unpowered LED’s. “That information is then received by the processer housed in this central section and, depending on the programing, it can deliver either a mild shock or a lethal dose of voltage via the copper plating.”
The elemental paused his impromptu lecture for a moment to meet Isabel’s eyes and saw that the soubrette’s gaze flicker hesitantly from the collar to his eyes and back again, a look of unease and fear was still present on her features but it was clear she was listening, even if she hadn’t yet grasped the purpose behind his discourse.
“The more complex models even have wireless capabilities that let them notify their owners if they’re damaged, running low on power or if the wearer has been rendered unconscious.”
Giving the gamine a short, humourless smile which was meant to be reassuring, the mercenary withdrew a small metal paperclip from his shirt pocket and deftly unwound its outer edge until it held a vague L shape not unlike an allen key.
“This version however is nowhere near as complex; in fact it actually possesses quite a few flaws.”
So saying the elemental turned the collar over once again and began to deftly dismantle it with slow, practiced movements, using only the paperclip and his own hands to reveal hidden access panels, poorly disguised screws and other structural weak points, talking through each one as he did so until he had a neatly organized pile of components laid out on the floor between himself and the now slightly wide eyed soubrette.
“So tell me Isabel, does this still scare you?”
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 that Duskmoor’s lack of forethought and simplistic world view lent her a rather predictable personality, she did, occasionally, surprise him. The first time had been during their initial meeting when she’d attempted to hamstring him by burrowing tendrils of bone through the earth to catch him off guard. It had been an unnaturally subtle tactic for the bonemancer and had she been slightly faster or more vicious she might have succeeded in crippling him in their first meeting.
The second time the soubrette surprised him had been less than an hour after their first meeting. Having convinced her to work him to put an end to an all too bloody gang war the girl had surpassed his initial expectations by crafting, in mere moments, a fully functional arachnid style exoskeleton which she’d used to increase her overall speed and agility in order to hunt down her victims as quickly as possible.
The third occurrence had been some months later when she’d attempted to escape from a hospital and been cut off by both the NYPD and SWAT teams. After taking some pains to persuade the gamine that it would be better to leave then engage in another pointless bloodbath the girl had stalked to near the top of building and used her mutation to fashion a pair of wings and glided away from the scene with almost no one the wiser.
The recurring theme in each of these cases was the fact that it had always been the use of Duskmoors mutation which had surprised the elemental. Time and time again she’d proven, likely without realizing, just how versatile her power was; adapting it for each situation and circumstance as soon as the solution occurred to her.
This was the first time Isabel had surprised him as a person.
Watching the soubrette simply breakdown after the collar’s brief ‘demonstration’ was perhaps the last thing the hessian had expected. Granted, he’d known that she’d had some past experience with the collars and its variants from her time in the mutant camps, but he’d never thought the device would leave this kind of mark.
Then again, it did make a twisted sort of sense; in every confrontation Zephyr had seen, Isabel had always relied on her mutation to get what she wanted. If what he’d read about her past was true it was something she’d first arrived in the city and it had made her no few enemies, least of all in the NYPD.
How would the so called ‘defenders of the peace’ act if they found the soubrette in a prison camp where she was stripped of her powers and treated no better dirt? Would they let the girl be, content to have her serve the sentence she’d been given? Or would they remember the friends and family who’d died at her hands and take it upon themselves to enforce a more personal retribution?
Zephyr knew the answer far too well; he’d also spent time in the camps, albeit from a different perspective, and the elemental had seen just low people could sink when they thought they could get away. For the male prisoners it had generally meant beatings or starvation, female prisoners however hadn’t been so lucky. Given her natural figure and just how vulnerable she’d been well… It was entirely possible that Duskmoor’s phobia of intimacy could be traced back to memories from her time in the camps. Memories she’d probably spent years repressing even as they motivated her on a subconscious to never be weak or vulnerable again.
In short, using the collar on her had likely forced Duskmoor to revisit some of the worst moments of her life. Moments that she would now associate with him.
Wonderful.
Suppressing his growing frustration Zephyr considered his options while keeping one eye on Isabel, watching as the shock faded and the buxom brunette drew in increasingly short and shuddering breaths which made her shoulders trembles and shook loose the tears welling in her eyes. It was an immensely unsettling sight and the part of him that had always cared for and doted on his sister, then later Katrina, couldn’t help but cringe at the thought that he’d caused it, however unintentionally.
He reminded himself that Duskmoor was a senseless killer who needed to be dealt with… one way or another.
Still holding the collar in plain view while resting his free hand behind his back Zephyr stepped quietly to one side so that he stood between Isabel and the bag which he’d dropped on the other side of the room.
After staring at her for a few moments the elemental seemed to come to a decision and he moved back within arm’s reach of the silently sobbing soubrette, causing the girl to emit a slight shriek as she desperately tried to sink into the wall behind her.
“Here’s what’s going to happen Duskmoor.” The elemental spoke slowly but with a tone of utter certainty as he crouched down to the brunette’s eye level, forcing her to meet his gaze so she wouldn’t notice the open bottle of water he’d levitated into his other hand, and which he then proceeded to pour over her head.
This elicited a second, less fearful shriek, as the girl flailed and tried to cover her head. By the time the bottle was empty though the brunette face had gained a few shades of colour and her hazel eyes actually had some measure of focus as she stared back at him, surprise and confusion momentarily offsetting her terror.
“I’m going to give you a chance to act like a human being, like the homo-superior you claim you are. Talk to me, tell me what you’re thinking, explain yourself. “
He trailed off at that, letting the words sink in as he lowered his arm and dropped the empty water bottle which clattered to the concrete floor before rolling away towards the slight indent in the center of the room.
“If you can’t even do that, then you’re little more than animal and I’ll treat you like one,” He lifted the silver circlet in his hand to eye level, the threat all too clear. ”Collar and all.”
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."
Not for the first time, Zephyr reflected on just how childlike Duskmoor was; the girl operated without any thought to consequences and rarely considered anything beyond her immediate needs from moment to moment. That, along with her misled belief in her own invincibility, was two of the primary factors behind her unnaturally volatile behavior. That same lack of forethought however also made her predictable and easy to lead.
"What?! No! That's bullshit!"[/color]
Case in point.
Fighting the urge to roll his eyes the hessian weathered Duskmoors puerile outburst with his usual stoicism, hardly reacting aside from a narrowing of his cobalt eyes as the ingénue all but stamped her feet in anger against the terms he’d set. He let her go on for about a minute, allowed her to vent the anger and fear which had surely been building since he’d dragged her into the room before she ran out of words and merely glared at him, waiting for some form of response.
He was more than willing to oblige.
“You’re making quite a few assumptions there Duskmoor” He informed her in a quiet, yet deadly serious tone which echoed through the air with unnatural clarity. “And I don’t mind telling you that more than a few of them are wrong.” With a deft motion he opened his coat and replaced the three envelopes, using the action to disguise the movement of his other hand as it slid into another pocket as he continued.
“Still, you are right about one thing. I have no intention of ‘babysitting’ you; this is a lesson and nothing more.” He shifted his stance slightly so that he was side on with the soubrette, hiding the hint of metal in one of his hands as they came to rest by his sides. “If you fail to learn however, you will be… disciplined.”
A sudden gust of wind caught the soubrette without warning, surging over her back and shoulders it caught her waist length hair and whipped it across her face, effectively blinding her in the same instant that Zephyr made his move; darting forward with two half circles of silver clutched in his outstretched hand as he aimed for the girls neck. The metal collar snapped shut the moment it grazed the ingénues skin, the locking mechanism giving an all too audible click[/b] as it locked around the shapely soubrettes throat. This was followed almost immediately by a faint mechanical hum just before a static shock coursed through the metal and the wearer.
Then, as quickly as it happened, there was a second click[/b] and the collar sprang open, falling back into Zephyr’s hand just as the elemental moved back, stepping out Isabel’s immediate range at the same time the girl managed to fight clear of her hair.
“That, was only a demonstration Duskmoor. If you don’t want this collar to become a permanent part of you I suggest you think quickly and give me three reasons why those men should die. One for each of them. I don’t care if they deserve it or not, tell me how three deaths will benefit the Order more than one. “
“Go?” he tsk’d and shook his head slightly at the notion. “If I thought you could behave I might consider it, as things stand though…”[/color] He trailed off as he reassessed the girls condition, suppressing a sigh as he took in the exhausted posture and still dazed expression as she struggled with the after effects of her near suffocation. He doubted the soubrette even remembered what day it was, let alone why he’d dragged her here to begin with.
Still, it made her compliant enough to speak with if nothing else.
“I’ve already had to stop one of your tantrums Isabel, I’m not about to let you have another.” The rebuke was spoken slowly and without any overt hostility but there was a clear note of steel in the elementals voice, strengthened somewhat by his accent, which suggested he wouldn’t hear any arguments on the matter.
Silence stretched out for a short time as Isabel recovered and Zephyr considered his next move. While the mercenary had hoped the Promise would hold far more control than it currently did, he hadn’t been planning to rely on it entirely. He’d made brief preparations for a small number of contingencies, the UHF jammer he activated at the start of this particular episode was one such example, while the half cobbled restraining collar sitting in his pocket was another.
In short, he was by no means out of options
“If you think you can stand I’ll let go of you, but only if you say ‘please.’” There was a deliberate pause and additional emphasis given to the last two words so that they became something between a command and a request. A way to gauge how much fight the bonemancer had left in her while also providing an opportunity for the compulsion exercise what little influence it held in a controlled setting.
In truth the hessian had fully expected the shapely soubrette to remain stubbornly silent, perhaps with a halfhearted glare for his attempts. So he was caught completely nonplussed when the word left the girls lips without an instants hesitation, as though she hadn’t even thought about it.
The moment he’d registered what she’d done though both eyebrows shot upwards in surprise and it was only with a conscious effort that he managed to hold back a smile and keep the rest of his features mostly blank. Then, with deliberate slowness, he released the buxom brunette’s shirt and rose from his kneeling position
When Isabel followed suit a few seconds later he gave her a short nod of approval. “See? That wasn’t hard at all. A touch of manners can go a long way Isabel.” The elementals voice carried the same calm, if slow, cadence it had earlier as he picked each of his words with care as the beginnings of an idea took route in his mind. “You should consider being polite more often, with me if no one else.”
In reality, compulsions were more of a double edged sword than the all-purpose solution they were generally portrayed as. Far too often the nature of compulsions meant that they were effective only on the exact wording of an order, rather than its intent. If you weren’t careful it was all too easy to give a command that a thrall could carry out improperly.
Even worse was the possibility of giving contradicting or impossible orders which, depending on the severity of the compulsion, could give the thrall anything from a mild headache to a complete mental breakdown. There were always one or two stories in the news every year involving young physics who’d abused their ability to manipulate others and who generally left a number of their thralls as little more than empty shells before they were caught.
Thus, Zephyr took great care with each of his words. It was all he could do until he had an opportunity to implement more fluid guidelines. If it gave Duskmoor cause to think he was patronizing her so be it, he wasn’t about to risk turning her into a vegetable after all the effort he’d so far.
“Where were we? Ah yes, you’re ‘homework’.” A faint look of amusement passed over the elementals features as he caught the soubrettes reaction to the word. “Come now Isabel, do try not to make faces.” He admonished halfheartedly. “I think you’re actually going to like this.”
“You see, I’m going to let you have your revenge for the little gargoyle girl, but it will be on my terms.” He then withdrew three thick envelopes from within his jacket and presented them to the soubrette who seemed to eye them dubiously. Each envelope was muted brown and aside from being unusually thick had nothing more to distinguish them, aside from the name which had been printed in bold on the front.
Officer Anderson Officer Sanchez Detective Sullivan
“Three abusive officers. Three hateful bigoted fools. Each of them shares some of the responsibility for that young girls pain and suffering, just as you do. Unlike them however, you get to make a choice; are they going to face the ‘justice’ of their own system? Tried and judged by their own friends and family? Or should they face a more permanent sentence?”
He paused for a few moments to let the words sink in, unnecessary as it might have been; it was clear from the gamines expression what her decision was and that she held absolutely no reservations about killing all three… which was exactly why this next part was going to be interesting.
He offered the envelopes towards Isabel and as she moved to take he drew them back abruptly. “There is a catch I’m afraid” He told here without any hint of remorse. “You know the saying, ‘eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth…’ blood for blood. Despicable though it was, they only injured one girl and so you can only choose one victim, the other two, they get to live.”
“I didn’t mean to do it”[/color] The paltry excuse echoed briefly across the room as the gamine scrambled to get her feet beneath her, the words leaving her lips before she even had a chance to think. It was an almost reflexive habit that Zephyr had come to notice with increasing frequency of late; accuse the girl of something, or even pay her complement, and the soubrette would immediately deny or otherwise try to discredit the statement.
In the past it had been somewhat entertaining trait and the hessian had almost considered it a game of sorts; provoking the ingénue into denying one thing and twisting it so that she inadvertently admitted to another. It had been amusing, a welcome distraction during more tedious tasks. Now though, it only served to aggravate him.
“Cause and effect Duskmoor.”[/color] The elementals voice was cold, almost matter of fact, as he lowered his hand and began to stalk towards her. “Accidental or not, your actions have… consequences”. [/color]
"You grabbed me! It's just what happens when people grab me. I didn't do it on purpose. It's your own damn fault!"[/color]
Without waiting for the girl to finish her jejune tirade Zephyr quietly extended the fingers of his healed hand, stretching them outwards in a motion which was immediately mirrored by the soubrette’s restraints as her arms snapped outwards at a ninety degree angle perpendicular to the floor, forcing her into a crude cross. She stayed that way for perhaps a handful of seconds, alternately struggling and cursing as her limbs were pulled to their limits until her wrists were abruptly hauled upwards, leaving her legs flailing wildly for a few moments as her feet frantically sought purchase on the floor two feet away before she began to gasp.
Crucifixion was an art older than time immemorial. Largely renowned for its part in the death of a pseudo religious figure, the actual science involved was actually quite advanced for its time. By nailing the victims’ feet to the length of the cross it becomes exceedingly painful for them to stand. At the same time however, if they allow themselves to hang from their impaled wrists the pose stretches the muscles of the diaphragm thereby making it impossible to exhale. This thereby forced the victim to shift their weight to feet in order to breathe until the pain once again caused them to hang from the wrists in a self-sustaining cycle of suffering.
Still, Duskmoor wasn’t truly crucified; her legs had been largely left alone and if she’d actually retained the presence of mind to think instead of panicking she could have used her mutation to anchor herself to the floor or wall, thereby lifting the weight from her ribs and allowing her to breathe again. Instead, his restraints had caused the brunette to panic and waste what little air she had thrashing against her bonds.
If he hadn’t been quite so displeased with her the sight would actually have been rather depressing. As it was though he simply watched her struggles dwindle as she lost strength, until her feet eventually stopped moving and hung lifelessly beneath her just as her collapsed atop her chest and she finally fell silent.
Then he dropped her.
She fell to the ground like a ragdoll, legs folding under her as her right hip took the brunt of the impact and she lay sprawled across the concrete floor. Barely a second later her entire body jerked as she took a desperate gasp of air, filling her lungs to capacity and causing her breasts to heave as she frantically repeated the motion.
“I’m only going to say this once Duskmoor so stop fighting me, stop hating me and listen.”[/color] The elementals words were calm but they held an undertone of steel as he came to a stop beside the fallen soubrette and knelt down to her.
“I don’t care who provoked you or what your intentions were. You are responsible for your actions, no one else.”[/color] Zephyr’s hand reach out, grasping the soubrettes strained shirt just beneath the collar as he dragged her to her knees before he spoke again. “ If you step out of line Duskmoor I will find you and what I do to you will make what’s happened here pale in comparison. Do you understand?” [/color]
He waited briefly for her response before continuing in a somewhat lighter tone. “Good, I’ll hold you to that Isabel, though it is good to see you’ve made some progress already.”[/color] Seeing the look of confusion cross her features, the hessian couldn’t prevent the slight smirk which tugged at his lips as he drew the girls eyes down to where he was still holding her shirt. “ “It appears I still have all my fingers, your control must be better than you thought.” [/color]
Left completely unsaid was the fact that his rough treatment of the fabric had caused the cotton to stretch somewhat and a button or two to come loose, causing the shirt to fall open slightly in the elementals grip so that it granted a clear view of the rather generous curves the brunette had beneath. Curves which, Zephyr noted in a purely detached fashion, were far more pleasant when they weren’t covered in thorns.
Deciding that it would be immensely unwise to let the girl dwell over the view he had Zephyr quickly brought her attention back to him as he spoke again in a more serious tone. ““Now then, shall we discuss your… homework?”[/color]
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 folded his arms and stared down at Duskmoor with hard eyes as the girl scrambled to her feet, hurriedly backing away from him and all but screaming her defense of her innocence. Her gaze held a mixture of terror and defiance as she worked herself into another corner, and while the hessian was perfectly capable of working with the former emotion, the latter was causing him no end of irritation.
Perhaps a certain measure of force was called for after all. He wasn’t fond of the idea needless to say; resorting to violence without any appropriate provocation implied a certain lack of ingenuity and it would also ruin the ‘harsh but fair’ image he’d been trying to build with the buxom brunette. That being said, if he caught her off guard he could probably break one of the girls bones if he put his mind to it and the resulting shock would likely-
He paused as he caught site of a circlet of spikes jutting from the gamines right wrist, barely more than half an inch in length each one bore a wicked hook he couldn’t see so much as feel as the girls arm swayed through the stale air. What he could see however was the dark coat of crimson which covered each barb and dripped into a steadily growing stain that trailed over the dull grey cement that unerringly led the elementals gaze back to the source of the spilt blood.
His own hand.
Zephyr’s entire bearing froze as he caught sight of the mangled limb, an expression of silent shock settling across his features as his eyes swept over the shredded flesh of his palm and the streams of scarlet which leaked down his fingers. Fingers which refused to do more than twitch when he slowly lifted his arm and tried to form a fist, an effort which resulted in already torn muscles ripping even further to reveal chalk white patches of bone which should have sent blinding flares of agony shooting across his vision, and yet…
He didn’t feel a thing.
No, that wasn’t quite true, now that he knew the damage was there Zephyr realized he could feel a dull burning pain at the back of his thoughts, as thought his skin had been rubbed raw and then frozen until it was nearly numb. It was a completely unnatural sensation, though given that the alternative likely would have left him in a pain induced coma, the hessian wasn’t about to argue. He would however be making a rather generous donation to his pharmacists, how did the man describe it? Ah yes, his triple U* retirement fund. Whatever the old skeleton had put in the hessians latest dose of medication, it was clearly worth every penny.
That being said, Zephyr knew all too well that his painkillers were a double edged sword. While they might allow him to ignore what would normally have been a crippling wound, that didn’t mean it wasn’t still dangerous. The body felt pain for a reason; you couldn’t treat a wound you didn’t know existed and while his mangled hand might not be lethal in of itself, the associated blood loss would be more than enough to end him if he left it unchecked.
‘Oops’[/color]
The single word broke the elementals train of thought and his cobalt gaze snapped back to Duskmoor to find the shapely soubrette staring back at him with a mixture of glee and growing apprehension that all too easy to read. It was the look of one who’d just poked a sleeping lion and was only just beginning to realize that the cage wasn’t locked. The look of one who’d drawn a gun in a knife fight only to find it wasn’t loaded.
In short, it was the look of a girl who was about to deeply regret her transgressions. The fragile authority he had over the soubrette right now was just that, fragile. Any show of weakness on his part would only serve to feed the girls already bloated sense of hubris and likely unravel a good deal of the effort he’d put into bringing the girl to heel.
In an ideal world, or even one just three months later, Zephyr could have simply ordered the girl to slap herself repeatedly or run laps until she collapsed and the emerald tattoo across her midriff would have enforced the punishment for him. Unfortunately that wasn’t an option at the present time. The mere fact that girl had managed to hurt him to the degree she had made it evident that the compulsion had yet to fully sink in. Without its influence the hessian would need to rely on the crude but classic methods of intimidation and brute force to keep the girl in line.
Before that though, there was the slight matter of his hand.
Never shifting his gaze from Duskmoors face Zephyr slowly raised his mangled hand until the bloodied limb was stretched between them at eye level. Then, almost casually, he began to turn his wrist; first one way then the other, letting the brunette see the damage she’d inflicted before he spoke in a deceptively idle one.
“I must admit I’m rather disappointed.”[/color] He stated, leaving his hand to rest palm up, perpendicular to the floor, almost as though he were admiring a new ring even as he adjusted his posture and left a foot resting in his blood. A handful of moments passed in silence before he began again. “I thought we’d dealt with this already, apparently I need to repeat myself.[/color]
Even before Zephyr had finished speaking, his outstretched had begun to change; losing colour and substance at a rapid pace as the bonds between blood, flesh and bone unraveled and scattered as the elemental bent his power to the task.
Healing is hard. No matter what advantage one might have at their disposal, be it a medical degree or a particularly versatile mutation, the human body is one of the complex creations in existence and repairing it takes both effort and concentration because the only thing worse than not healing an injury was healing it improperly; something Zephyr actually knew from experience having once accidently fused his hand to another air elemental. Extricating himself had not been a simple matter.
Still, a number of years had passed since that point and the hessian had learned a thing or two. Even as he watched the colour drained away from his hand as it lost substance, fading away to little more than a vaporous silhouette before even that vague shaped unfurled into whirling tendrils of mist. They coiled and twined about themselves in an almost chaotic fashion, occasionally gaining subtle shades of iridescence as it mixed with pale crimson fumes rising from the freshly spilt blood around the elementals foot.
Almost as quickly as it had begun, it ended. The writhing threads of smoke collapsed in upon one another in a hectic wave of motion as strands of flesh and bone rapidly wove themselves back into existence atop the raw stump of his injured arm until he was left staring at the blemished skin of his reformed right hand.
“Good as new.”[/color] Zephyr’s voice was absent, almost distracted, as he made a short show of flexing each of his fingers in front of Isabel before he abruptly formed a fist and his cold cobalt gaze fixed on the brunettes own amber eyes.
“You can’t kill me Duskmoor.”[/color] The words were uttered in a tone of cold finality, each one drawn out slowly and deliberately as he stared the girl down. “You learned that in Chicago, you said you’d never harm me again.”[/color] He relaxed his fist, stretching his fingers once again to show the soubrette the futility of her efforts before his hand flexed into another familiar gesture.
“I dislike liars.”[/color]
He snapped his fingers and all of the pressure he’d been quietly building around Duskmoor as he’d stalled for time surged into action; invisible strands of air solidified into insidious shackles which snaked across the shapely soubrettes limbs before suddenly snapping taut and hurling her towards the far wall of the chamber by her wrists.
She was long overdue for a crash course in restraint.
--
* = Unspoken, unreported, untaxed.
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."
