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.
For the second time in far too short a period Zephyr found himself waking without any immediate recollection beyond an odd sense of déjà vu which was less than copacetic. Despite his lack of memory however a number of things were immediately apparent. Firstly he was in some form of hospital; few places smelled so strongly of disinfectant or covered their beds with paper sheets which, it should be noted, were distinctly uncomfortable.
Secondly, if the constant yet subdued pounding in his skull was any indication, he’d been drugged with some low grade anesthetic, presumably to counter whatever was causing the dull burning sensation across his ribs with each breath he took. Broken, or more likely bruised, ribs if he were to judge; not life threatening by any means but certainly inconvenient.
Fortunately such an injury was, if not easily taken care of, at least non too challenging. Indeed compared to the injurious he’d sustained after colliding with a certain jet, bruised ribs were almost laughable. Still, it would probably be best to wait until the anesthetic wore off; going from flesh to air and back again wasn’t particularly draining but it did require a clear head, especially without assistance.
His musings at that point were interrupted when his right eye was peeled open by a cold, practiced hand and introduced to an almost painfully bright pen light, prompting an irritated sigh. “Is this really necessary?”
“Dear boy from what I understand you quite possibly have a concussion and broken ribs. If that’s the case my bedside manner will be the least of your troubles. Now open your other eye.”[/color]
Withholding another sigh the elemental did as he was asked and the light was deftly redirected, leaving a fading haze in the hessians vision which eventually resolved into the figure of a rather severe and elderly looking matron. Her grey hair had been wound into a tight bun and rested atop her head like a content, if possessive cat. Her expression was pinched, as though she were well too acquainted with lemons, and her slate gray eyes were narrow as she took in whatever it was she saw in the elementals own azure gaze.
A wave of cold washed through the elemental, beginning where the old woman’s hand rested on his head and seeming to flow down his spine and pooling in his lungs until his entire chest became numb and it felt as though he were breathing liquid ice. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the matron removed her hand and the frigid sensation went with it leaving Zephyr to cough for a few short moments as feeling returned to his chest and he brought his breathing back into a steady rhythm.
Before he could offer any form of rebuke however he found himself subject to a rather brusque bout of doctors orders “I’ve done what I can for your ribs but you still need at least a week of rest before they’re fully healed. Still, I know your type and so I shan’t waste my own time trying to keep you here. You’re free to leave. I don’t want to see you, or you’re… friend, here again if I can help it”[/color]
The last of her words were accompanied by a more than disapproving glance across the room, prompting the hessian to follow the matron’s gaze where he spotted Isabel sitting with a rather satisfied smirk a few feet away. A sight what apparently caused the old matron no small degree of aggravation for she stalked out of the room before anything else could be said.
There was silence for a few short moments before Zephyr turned his head to Isabel and asked with a bored, yet idly curious tone “Delightful woman, really.” A brief pause and then, “I don’t suppose you could tell me what happened? “
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."
In truth Alistair had been expecting the denial, strangely though instead of the resentment he’d been anticipating he simply felt hollow and resigned as he watched his… daughter, rise from the table. “I suppose there is some truth in that,”[/color] He sighed almost forlornly. “but I want you to know that it wasn’t my choice, I wanted...”[/color]
Maya, it seemed, did not wish to hear any more and so Alistair trailed off as she swiftly gathered her things and collected her young charge. It wasn’t until she was half way across the room that she paused and glanced back, causing Alistair to hope, for the briefest moments, that pale girl might have changed her mind, he may as well have wished for all the tea in china; it would have been a suitable consolation for the cruel irony, having the child he’d never had a chance to know, telling him to speak with the child he’d never wanted to know.
“I’ve had years to speak with Simon, at this point I rather doubt we have anything more to say to each other”[/color] he began coolly and Maya once more started to take her leave, possibly somewhat fast than before.
“However,”[/color] he called from across the café, “I would however be quite happy to meet with you again, and should Simon also happen to be there… I will do what I can.”[/color]
Zephyr’s entire body tensed as the rest of the church fell silent in the wake of Ralls sudden hysterical outburst and all eyes turned towards them. His genial affectation faded as a frown crossed his features and he glared irritably at redhead as she continued her performance. He hadn’t expected this particular twist and the fact that he’d been caught off guard and simultaneously placed before a far more attentive, not to mention disapproving, audience aggravated him to no small degree.
The best response would have been a combination of shock and denial, accompanied by a statement of ignorance; that he’d no idea she felt this way or wanted to get rid of the nonexistent child. In short, something which painted him as the victim and shifted the crowds disapproval over to his still sobbing companion.
Unfortunately he’d already shown some of his irritation so he couldn’t play the role of doting beau any longer. Instead he’d have to work with what he’d been given which, in all honesty, a part of him preferred; playing the villain was a simple thing after all.
Extracting himself from Ralls in a brusque, but decidedly nonviolent manner, the hessian took a short step back before staring down at the gamine with an affectation of cold anger as he replied “…my fault? As I recall, you weren’t exactly complaining at the time dear, and in case you forgot-”
“That’s enough!”[/color]
Surprisingly the cry came from the frail and reserved church associate they’d been so blithely chatting with moments before. The old man’s face had gained a noticeable tint of red as he tried his best to stare down the mutant pair who were taller than he was. “You should both be ashamed of yourselves. I don’t know what you’re differences are but I do know that the two of you came together for a reason, and if you can’t remember that reason then you have no business being here!”[/color]
It wasn’t bad rant all in all, short and sweet really; had he actually given damn the hessian might have actually been somewhat moved. As it was though Zephyr simply gazed impassively at the church associate for a moment, the old man had provided a fairly good excuse to leave if they chose to it, on the other hand he’d only just begun to warm to his role as in inglorious bastard. Decisions, decisions, decisions…
Turning to face Ralls, he spoke in a low monotone “Well dear, what do you say?”
Delegation, the true mark of leadership
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."
‘Ignore for the moment that she sounds like a petulant child,’ he thought to himself as he continued to stodgily place on foot in front of the other whilst keeping the brunette in the corner of his vision. ‘Focus on her actions. ’ Because the basic fact of the matter was that she was helping him, grudgingly perhaps, but for once the elemental wasn’t having to prompt her.
All in all, discounting his aching skull, it was a somewhat promising situation. One which Zephyr saw little need to alter; if playing the part of enervated employer made the gamine easier to deal with then so be it. The role would hardly cost him anything aside from time and patience and he currently had both of those in abundance.
"There's no way I'm picking you back up if you tumble down those stairs, though."[/color]
‘Yes, it’s not as though you’re my nurse’ he thought wryly, yet he kept the comment to himself, taunting the gamine was the surest way to end her good behavior, and so he merely gave her a look of wry amusement mixed with irritation as he paused briefly at the open doorway, dryly replying instead with “How considerate of you.” Before then making his way inside.
The interior of the building was little better than it’s roof, not entirely surprising given that the place had been condemned. Water leaked from the stained ceiling in a near constant stream courtesy of a burst water pipe. The walls consisted of gaping faded plasterboard, one section having apparently been broken down by its own door, and resembled nothing so much as stale and crumbling Swiss cheese.
The floors, though absent in some places, seemed to be reasonably stable for the most part, though even if they weren’t been the elemental rather doubted his own meager weight would have been enough to make them collapse. Duskmoor however was another matter entirely; having flown her a fair distance Zephyr was well aware that the girl weighed far more than she should, in her defense however the buxom brunette was likely the only woman who could legitimately blame her weight on being ‘big boned’ as it were.
Still, the last thing he needed was for Isabel to crash through several floors, she’d thus far managed to keep her temper in check and he’d prefer to keep things that way.
As he turned to warn the hazel haired bonemancer however the stair beneath him gave an abrupt and dangerous groan protest. Before he even had a chance to consider the irony of what was about to happen, the rotted wood beneath him gave way and he lost consciousness for the second time.
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."
With his attention still split between monitoring the facility for additional adapteds and the brunette before him, restraining a quizzical look at the girl’s abrupt agreement required a certain amount of effort. In his experience purported employers were rarely so… eager, to appease prospective subordinates. It was poor bargaining practice if nothing else. Still, far be it for him to enlighten his supposed ‘manager’ on the issue.
Shifting his stance slightly against the open door frame Zephyr closed his eyes and released a slow breath before allowing his gaze to rest back on Lenna with a dry expression which said much about the pervasive nature of asininity.
“I see.” He stated simply. “When precisely did this change occur?” He’d heard nothing from Slate for months, so while he did not doubt the boy could have turned over control, a precise date would allow him to calculate the amount of back pay he was owed for his imminent new pay grade. A rather more favourable pay grade if the discussion thus far were any indication.
On that note.
“I care very little about your goals.” They all tended to be the same in any case; some varying composition of money, power and repute. “If you are willing to pay for my services I shall provide them. I am more concerned with the nature of the work and how you intend to compensate my efforts; will you be keeping to the initial terms of my employment?
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."
Abiding by his somewhat contrived and clichéd role Zephyr made no attempt to hinder Ralls as she took the arm he’d been using to embrace her and lifted it slightly, taking his hand in hers and resting the palm against her midriff with no indication of letting go. She really was getting quite possessive, he’d have to do something about that eventually. Briefly, the mercenary toyed with the idea of testing the girl’s composure. It would have been easy, and likely amusing, but was also liable to attract more attention than he currently wanted and so he dismissed the thought.
Instead the elemental simply carried on with his fond yet put upon affectation as the redhead spun yet another fabrication for their little act. He had to refrain from rolling his own eyes when he heard the name though, honestly, Willard? Had he actually cared there was a good deal the hessian would have said against such a selection. As it was though he simply continued the charade, allowing his trapped hand to wander slightly under the guise of a comforting gesture whilst feigning a warm smile for the ingénue as he once again lowered his head to hers for a quiet moment he straightened and replied.
”Are you sure you’d want something so short notice?
“I thought planning was important? Fall would be rather short notice, though I daresay it can be done. With winter though things could be dealt with inside, behind closed doors. The cold doesn’t have to be an issue.” He paused and glanced back at the church associate with a benign expression; the old man had begun to adopt a slightly disapproving countenance at their spurious display of affection, but thus far though hadn’t said anything. “This place is heated isn’t it? And insulated?”
When the greying man nodded after a seconds thought Zephyr turned back to his the redhead and offered her another faux grin and warm words as his hand continued its gradual exploration. “You see? We can do deal with this, we just need to… act, appropriately.
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."
A million to one chance, that’s what he’d thought. He should have known better. Life was rarely without its complications and now he found himself facing something he was entirely unprepared for. Alistair would have laughed at the bitter irony if he weren’t so shaken by the sudden revelation. He’d come expecting to deal his ungrateful runaway son and instead… instead…
"There is no way. She was only here..."[/color]
Letting his weight fall against the back rest of his chair Alistair let his eye fall closed as he tried to deal with the sudden tumult raging through his mind. He felt numb emotionally and physically, yet when he heard Maya, the lost tone in her words caused him to gift the girl a small, sympathetic smile as he finished her sentence. “…two and a half years. She was studying religion if I recall, even won a scholarship for it.”[/color]
Opening his eyes Alistair’s cobalt gaze swept up to meet Maya’s own sorrel shaded orbs as he once again took in her similarities and noted that she seemed to be doing much the same with him. A part of him wondered what she saw, whatever it was caused her to all but collapse into her seat and spill a portion of her drink. She looked truly lost, even as she futilely clung to her denials.
He had expected her words to hurt him, to kindle an old pain he’d all but forgotten because it showed how little Meredith had cared for him in the end, that she hadn’t even mentioned him to her daughter. Strangely though, all he felt was a depressed resignation… and a certain lugubrious sympathy for the pale girl before him as he listened to Sarah’s faux twin, Katrina, make the inevitable connection, her whisper carrying clearly over the natural silence which fallen across the table.
“They were indeed. I…”[/color] Alistair paused, searching for the proper words as he tried to catch honey brown eyes in his own gaze. “I don’t know what you were told you Maya. Meredith and I did not leave on the best of terms. I do know this however, if she is your mother than I… I, am your father.”[/color]
The girl’s didn’t respond immediately, generally a good sign; it tended to mean his words were being considered and that people had not previously made up their minds. As he continued to watch the pair however he noticed that Ms. Csendes was, if possible, becoming even paler as an expression of utter shock swept across her features.
"Meredith... her last name wasn't Swift or maybe Brown?"[/color]
“How did? -No…”[/color]
The aging father’s azure eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion as he registered the waifish woman’s words, an accusation forming on his tongue almost instinctively before everything suddenly clicked and the realization doused him like ice water. He looked at the woman, no, at Maya, a second time matching every similarity she shared with Meredith, berating himself for not spotting it immediately, for deluding himself.
A swift glance at the wedding ring adorning the woman’s left hand was all the confirmation he needed; she’d called herself Csendes yes, but before that…. he suddenly found his voice again. “Maya? Maya Swift?”[/color]
It couldn’t be, but he already knew it was.
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."
One of the first things Zephyr had learned when he’d first begun his line of work was the importance of effectively dissembling. Being able to appear comfortable in any environment, to look as though you belonged, such a mien was often times more effective than any physical disguise and it was a skill he’d focused on cultivating.
Thus when his quiet game with redheaded soubrette was intruded upon by the somewhat officious Church representative, the elemental was put out for only the briefest of moments. His expression swiftly reverting to a mask of genial bemusement as he turned to regard the older gentleman and processed what had been said. By the time Maxine had finished delivering her extemporized backstory the hessian was already offering his hand and exchanging his own cozen pleasantries.
“Come on, honey—what time of year would your dream wedding be?”[/color]
That, was underhanded, devious and underhanded. Thankfully Zephyr was no stranger to such tactics and hardly missed a beat as he gave a good natured, long suffering sigh of exasperation before lowering his head to the gamines and briefly allowed his lips to brush against her forehead before he answered.
“We’ve had this discussion before dear, I don’t mind the ‘when’ it’s who we share it with.” He paused for a moment and allowed an expression of uncertainty to cross his features as he glanced down meaningfully at her flat stomach. “Are you sure spring would work though? Things would be rather far along by then, I’m not sure it would be good for 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."
The glib demeanor vanished almost immediately as the woman’s expression of duplicitous amiability rapidly shifted to a more deadpan visage. If that were not indication enough, her curt cadence and brief retort all signaled that the adapted was looking for nothing more than simple answers to her less than simple questions. Unfortunately though she’d chosen a rather poor approach, few people enjoy having questions abruptly thrust upon them, and even fewer appreciate having it done by abject strangers.
Zephyr therefore was not in the most agreeable of moods, especially considering that the answers the brunette wanted were not subjects he’d share lightly. If there was one thing an individual learned in his line of work, it was the value of keeping quiet. Still thus far it was just the two and nothing untoward had yet to happen, so he could at least try to be civil if nothing else.
“Simply to clarify,” he said, speaking with same slight supercilious cadence. “You want me to share potentially sensitive information when you’ve given me nothing more than a name. Is that about right?”
He allowed a few moments for his words to sink in and then followed with. “I’m afraid I’m feeling somewhat disinclined to acquiesce to your request.”
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."
“Umm. I’m more of a quality over quantity girl, myself.”[/color]
“You say that as though one precludes the other.” The words were quiet, and their tone well matched the wry grin amusement which tugged at the elemental lips as he guided the redhead in a meandering path through the church. There seemed to be a fair number of actual couples scattered throughout, some simply sitting silently, seeking solace in each other presence. Others wandered in much the same way the mutant pair themselves did, clearly appreciating the surrounding aesthetics
Curiously though there seemed to be a small group gathering towards one end of the church and so Zephyr absently altered their course to lead them towards the crowd. They needed to fit in after all, and what better way than to continue their affectionate affectations among others who were doing the same, albeit more genuinely.
“So what brought you to my side of the pond, Dio?”[/color]
The question came as they were passing a rather ornate floral display and so Zephyr used it as an opportunity to pause as he considered how best to answer. “A number of things; this is the land of opportunity after all.” He glanced down and met her gaze with an urbane smile as he tightened his embrace briefly. “Though I will admit a certain… fondness, for the scenery.”
“What about your-“
“Beautiful aren’t they? If you’d like I can put you in touch with the florist. I believe they deliver throughout the year, when were you thinking of holding the wedding?”[/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."
If Zephyr had been tasked with describing his current companion in a single word he most likely would have chosen ‘reckless’, or possibly ‘recalcitrant’. Either lexeme would have served to underline the brunette’s brash and typically jejune behavior quite well. The girl was, on first glance, a creature of instincts; striving to do what she wanted, when she wanted and reacting rather poorly when she could not get her way.
Given that he’d been at almost constant odds with the gamine over her usual rash methods, such an assessment could be easily justified. Now though, as he sat and watched the girl slowly sort through and piece together the remaining scraps of fabric, the mercenary realized the soubrette was demonstrating two traits he’d previously thought beyond her; patience, and control.
He wasn’t sure which surprised him more.
Sewing was a tedious and mind numbing activity, especially when done by hand. The very motions required a deliberately pace which couldn’t be rushed. Admittedly Isabel’s somewhat… unique approach, all but automated the process to some degree but a certain level of care was still necessary to properly weave together the remnants of fabric.
Then there was the fact that she was actually succeeding in using bone as thread. Although it had been some time since Zephyr had last studied biology the properties of osseous matter were common knowledge. Bone was strong yes; it was a necessary feature to support the body, but that same strength which made it rigid also meant it was brittle and thus would snap rather than bend under sufficient pressure.
Granted, the girl’s abilities did allow her a notable measure of influence over ossein matter, and could explain how she initially crafted her organic thread, however the mercenary had never seen her influence persist once direct contact had been removed. By all rights, the moment the ingénue released her thin fibers, they should have either snapped under the weight of the cloth or altered its shape in much the same way as a tent pole would a canvas, yet the ivory thread did nothing of the sort.
While he couldn’t be certain, the immediate implication was that the soubrette retained control of the threads even after they’d left her body. In effect she was quite possibly making him a shirt which could skewer or throttle him if she lost her temper, and which he couldn’t reasonably refuse without implying he didn’t trust her. While this was the case, he rather doubted the soubrette would take such news well, and in his present condition the elemental was somewhat reluctant to provoke her if he could avoid it.
When the brunette finally finished her efforts and offered the poor patch job of a shirt Zephyr only hesitated a moment before accepting the item, doing his best to mask a frown as he turned the garment this way and that, taking note of each alabaster stitch before stiffly slipping the makeshift shirt over his shoulders. If nothing else it should at least provide some measure of warmth, and if worse came to worse he judged he could manage at least one more incorporeal transformation if he had to.
"How long is it gonna take before we can actually go somewhere? I'm tired of sitting up here."[/color]
A long suffering sigh escaped the elemental as he forced himself, somewhat unsteadily, to his feet and grimaced as he braced himself against the half wall which encompassed the roof. His head pounded sharply for a short moment but then quickly faded to a tolerable throbbing, though he still raised a hand to the bridge of his nose to alleviate what he could of the discomfort, whilst at the same time watching his companion from the corner of his eye.
A part of him simply wanted the girl to leave. There was no further point in her remaining, hadn’t been since they landed, and her whining at having to deal with him while he was at less than his best was beginning to grate. On the other hand, the fact that she’d chosen to stay this long and had… behaved herself, raised intriguing possibilities his mind was only just starting to grasp.
Purposefully affecting an impassive expression which only partially masked a grimace, Zephyr eased his weight back to his feet and took a few short, unsettled, steps whilst keeping on hand on the low wall as if for balance before turning to glance at Isabel. “If you’re that eager I suppose we can start now, I should be able to manage the stairs if I take my time.”
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 Kabal had undergone several changes over the years. During its initial inception the group had been a rather select and well paid task force more than capable of rivaling some governments. The factions goal at that time had been quite succinct; acquire power and influence, in order to acquire more power and influence. There had been no stipulations, no caveats. Simply an objective and the means to achieve it. Consequently, the Kabal swiftly proved itself to a rather effective unit.
In Zephyr's opinion this first stage had been, and still was, the highlight of the Kabals existence thus far. Sadly though the factions zenith passed shortly after the Registration act was rescinded and ownership changed hands, bringing with it a flawed, and far less profitable ideology, which constrained and even restricted a number of... methods, which had previously met with full approval. Inevitably, these changes caused things to fall into decline, most notably, the elementals own paycheck.
Indeed, circumstances had become so deplorable that the hessian had all but abandon the Kabals base of operations and sought more engaging employment from other sources. In fact it had been nearly a year since he'd received anything other than his token paycheck from Mondragon.
Yet he now found himself standing just outside the board room of Mondragon medical, a few feet from the adapted aura which emanated from the rooms sole occupant; a lithe brunette whose pale turquoise gaze seemed to be measuring him in much the same way he was her. Adapteds were not an everyday encounter, even in New York, and though a part of the hessian sought to try and place the oddly familiar woman, the preponderance of the elementals thoughts were focused on locating any additional negating aura's as his senses swept the remainder of the building from top to bottom.
Then, she spoke. In a light, almost flippant, cadence as she furnished him with a practicality puerile appellation and posed a question more suited for a quotidian office space than the current situation at hand.
In response the elemental simply offered the brunette a brief raised brow before replying in a civil yet faintly condescending tone. "I'm sorry, I appear to have missed the start of this conversation. My monicker is Zephyr, and you are...?"
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."
Leaning back in his seat with a pensive expression Alistair idly drummed his fingers against the table top as he considered the two stories he’d heard. The girls were not raconteuse by any means, Ms. Csendes in particular had been somewhat difficult to discern as she seemed more intent on mumbling into her lap than in recounting the events themselves. Still, the greying CEO felt that he had a copacetic, if incomplete picture, of what had transpired since his son had apparently made his way abroad.
That did not mean he was entirely satisfied with the gamines had told him. Their accounts had raised a good number of questions which they had avoided either through inattention or a deliberate intent to cozen him. Given what he’d seen thus far he found the latter to be rather unlikely, conversely though their inattention, or some might say, ignorance, showed a considerable lack of forethought.
After all, how exactly did one accidentally find themselves crossing an ocean into another country?
Firstly however, there was one particular issue which needed to be addressed before it could develop any farther than it already had. It was... acceptable, if not precisely ideal, for the two girls to come and speak to him about the Simon; the boy had been his responsibility at one point. The rest of his family however, was off limits.
Fixing the pale imitations of both Meredith and his own daughter with an impassive stare he spoke clearly, and in a tone brooked no argument, ironic it was the same voiced he tended to use when dealing with Sarah herself. “That is quite the story you’ve given me” he began slowly. “While I can understand your concern for Simon, I’m afraid there is something I must ask you to understand in return.”
“My daughter has no place in this discussion. She dealt with enough when the boy left; I won’t have her go through more grief just to learn that the brother she believes dead has become a drug addict and hasn’t cared enough to contact her once in the past five years.”
“If you cannot accept that then we are done here.”
Keeping his azure eyes firmly on both girls he allowed a moment for his words to sink in, reading their expressions and judging their reactions. In doing so he was able to catch, and preempt, Ms. Csendes inevitable follow up question.
"His mother also has no place in this. I put Meredith to rest years ago and I won't raise her memory for this."
Modern medicine is a wondrous thing in this day and age; it can fight infection, bolster health and of course, relieve pain. Despite these laudable achievements however medicine as a science is far from perfect. There are no true panacea's, everything has a cost. Painkillers especially have a rather notable tradeoff; they can either act swiftly or they can last. The technology behind the latter actually tends to be rather simple and is usually nothing more than a pill consisting of numerous layers thereby allowing a medicament to be released in waves as each layer dissolves.
The upshot of this particular piece of trivia is that one could, if they so desired, crush a pill between their teeth, swallow the contents, and thus effectively gain the benefits of a six hour dosage over the course of thirty minutes.
This was precisely what Zephyr had just done. The motions had been practically rote, and though they had left him reeling in an painful, almost burning feeling of vertigo, the hessian was quite willing to endure the discomfort now that relief was in sight. It simply became a matter of distracting himself for the few moments it would take for the drug to kick in. That being said, a cold gravel rooftop on an overcast evening is not the most thought provoking of settings.
"You should probably stop trying to move around so much,"[/color]
Had he possessed a lesser level of self control the words would have likely caused the elemental to reflexively glance at their speaker. As it was though the hessian was well acquainted with that particular lesson and his recent reminder kept the mercenary from doing anything more than shifting his azure gaze.
The shapely soubrette had barely stirred from her kneeling position; having simply twisted in place to examine the remained of his upper shirt, jacket and, now that he thought about, likely his firearm as well. From the sounds of it however the girl hadn't yet cut herself on any scrap metal so perhaps the weapon had been lost when they'd both been airborne. In either case it was an irritating loss; good quality firearms with false registrations were hardly a dime a dozen.
"You fall over and pass out again, I really am leaving your sorry ass here."[/color]
"Duly noted." The words were weary yet civil as Zephyr reluctantly drew himself into a proper sitting position. In all honesty he'd been surprised to find the brunette still here when he'd woken up. Although they were able to work together the gamine had rarely ever treated him with anything besides varying degrees of asperity. The fact was though that she had remained, and had apparently tried to... make him comfortable. Which rose a number of questions by itself.
Seeking neutral ground for the moment the elemental straightened his posture and glanced points at the remains of his attire before asking. "I don't suppose there's anything salvageable is there?"
It was starting to become rather chilly.
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."
