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.
Moving hurt. Admittedly not quite to the degree he'd been expecting, but it was still sufficient to encourage a certain economy of motion. After a few moments however the elemental managed to leverage his stiff limbs into a semi sitting position without his head feeling as though it were being split in two. As he began to take a rough mental inventory however Zephyr began to realize that the state of his migraine was likely the only positive thing about his present situation.
To give just a very cursory overview, he was essentially stranded atop a derelict building due to what could perhaps best be described as a mutation hangover which left him in little condition to do more than stagger. He was sharing the aforementioned rooftop with a young woman who, although easy on the eyes, had a body count which would not have seemed out of place in a phone book and had shown herself to be... less than charitable in the past-
"Too long. It's a damn good thing you decided to wake up. I was just thinking about leaving your sorry behind up here and heading home."[/color]
Pausing as his train of thought was interrupted Zephyr slowly turned his head to glance over his shoulder at his recalcitrant companion. The girl hadn't stirred from her kneeling position, seemingly preferring to glare at him with an odd expression of annoyance which, along with her comment, nagged at him for some reason. Before he could pursue that particular thought any further though cobalt eyes trailed down and fell on the item resting in the brunettes grasp.
"My wallet-" He cut himself off, wincing at the brief flare of pain which came as he tried to twist and face the shapely soubrette. The action left him side on with the girl and so after a moment he extended one arm towards her while his other hand continued to clutch the bridge of his nose in an effort to both hold his head still and stem the migraine which seemed insistent on punishing for every minor movement.
"May I have my wallet?"
A chill breeze swept across the roof at that moment causing the hessian to shiver and then grimace at the subsequent pounding which echoed through his skull. He needed those damn pills.
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."
Aged azure eyes watched carefully as the pale young woman took a tentative seat and declined a drink. She tired, or perhaps, simply spent. The girl almost seemed to deflate when Alistair failed to immediately confirm her suspicions and her expression became an amalgamation of disappointment, resignation and possibly bewilderment. It was a look Alistair had seen many times in the past and experience had taught him it rarely boded well.
On someone with Meredith's features it became more worrying still.
"Two hot chocolates if you could Ben."[/color] He asked and from the corner of his eyes he saw the dark haired barista nod and sink back into the floor. The CEO then turned his attention back to the girl before him.
The drinks would ideally serve a dual purpose; firstly they'd hopefully bring some form of colour to Ms. Csendes pale skin; the woman really was too pale to be healthy. Secondly the drinks would let the girls stay for a little longer and get comfortable enough to properly explain themselves. Admittedly hot chocolate wasn't the perfect drink for the situation but the younger blonde clearly wasn't old enough for alcohol and so he'd simply have to make do.
Speaking of the young blonde, it seemed she took after Sarah in more than just looks when she leapt right into the conversation without invitation or tact and gave an opinion which was practically an accusation before then backtracking and properly introducing herself and her chaperone.
He regarded both girls quietly for a moment, pointedly ignoring Maya's waiting hand as he forcefully reminding himself that they were not who they appeared to be before finally speaking. "Unless my memory has started to fail me I don't believe I ever said I wasn't his father. I asked for an explanation, and I rather think I'm entitled to one."[/color]
He paused briefly as the two drinks arrived in record time and were set down.
"That being said, I'm in no particular rush, so please, take your time."[/color]
Grey light seeped under his eyelids. That was the way it felt. He was lying somewhat awkwardly on his side while his head rested on something far softer. The pain from earlier was still present, but instead of a searing knife it now merely stung. A subtle shift of his neck however rather rapidly informed him of just how tenuous his current state was as a new, but still tolerable, wave of pain swelled and then steadily subsided.
The thought of simply remaining as he was and waiting out what remained of his migraine was tempting, but only for a few moments. He had no idea how much time had already passed and he was becoming increasingly aware of just how uncomfortable his current position was. Add to that a slight but chilling breeze which reminded him he was shirtless and Zephyr wearily decided it would be in his best interest to start getting up.
Unwilling to open his eyes just yet however the hessian instead tentatively reached out with his strained yet functioning spatial awareness. It was somewhat more... difficult than usual but he managed to make sense of his perceptions and take stock of his surroundings after a few moments. He was apparently still on the roof. No great surprise honestly, he actually would have been somewhat more concerned if he'd found himself somewhere else.
Finding his head on someone's lap however, was the one of the last things he'd expected, doubly so when his senses recognized the figure of the girl beneath him. Despite this though he found the situation entirely too surreal and, after a long moment, icy cobalt eyes slowly opened and glanced upwards, wincing slightly as they adjusted to the light but not shying away from the less than pleased expression on Isabel's face.
There were any number of comments, suggestions and insinuations he could make about his current situation, and under better circumstances he would gladly have done so. As it was Zephyr was still feeling somewhat under the weather and so he simply lifted his upper half and rested his weight on one arm even as he brought his other hand to the bridge of his nose to ward of the pain the movement caused.
"...how long was I lying there?"
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."
Without moving her head from his shoulder the redhead issued a short, almost inaudible sigh as she ceased toying with his shirt and let her arm fall. An action which allowed her to trap the hessians own hand against her hip and caused the elemental to raise a questioning eyebrow as he glanced down at her though he made no attempt to dislodge himself. Instead he nudged the soubrette into a slow walk which would take them towards the chapel proper.
That was what they had come to see after all. It wasn't as though he was silently daring the gamine to continue her affectionate antics in a setting some might consider inappropriate. The thought hadn't crossed his mind in the least.
“You’ve learned, huh?”[/color]
Regardless though the girl still seemed eager to continue their banter, even if her voice was slightly hushed and the tone somewhat saccharine. It wasn't unappealing per say, but the small smirk which tugged at the ingénues lips rather undermined the affectation. Still it was entertaining and it moved the conversation to somewhat safer waters and so the British mercenary offered the redhead a wry grin before replying.
"Come now Miss Ralls, your profession revolves around gossip and spectacle; confidentially would be counterproductive." Even if it would be in her best interests. He doubted sharing that particular thought would achieve anything though; the girl had followed him down a shadowed alley, that said something about her preservation instinct.
“So I’m not your first?”[/color]
Zephyr's own lips twitched upwards at that, if there was one thing in the redheads favour she at least wasn't dull. He briefly let his own head rest on top of the gamines and gave his own hushed response.
"Hmm, did you want to be? I'd have thought you'd prefer someone with more.. experience."
The past was something to learn from, not hold on too.
It was an axiom Alistair had tried, and largely succeeded, to live by for the past two decades. Sentiment and tradition were all well and good but, as he'd found after losing Meredith, became more of a hindrance than anything else as time moved on. The past couldn't be changed, or rather, it shouldn't be changed. Doing so would amount to nothing more than a new form murder, for what was man if not the sum of his experiences?
More to the point, if things could be changed, what guarantee was there that they would turn out for the better? No, he'd long since come to an uneasy peace with his past and moved on from it. Granted, he wasn't without regrets, but he'd learned from his mistakes and made his life a damn sight better than it would have been otherwise. It wasn't perfect by any means, but it was his and he was, for the most part, proud of it.
"Mister Smith?..."[/color]
Still, that didn't make things any easier when he found himself being approached by the mirror image of the biggest regret of his life. For the briefest moment he'd actually thought it was her, the resemblance was that close; everything from the hair to the build, even the way in which she walked was an echo of the woman he'd known.
On second glance though there were subtle differences, the neck was slightly shorter than he recalled and the girls posture, while graceful, was hesitant, almost timid. The greatest source of dissonance however was the eyes. They were far too light, almost a different color entirely, and as she got closer Alistair could she was far paler than the lighting suggested, almost as if someone had bleached the life from her skin.
It was like looking at ghost.
If there was one thing he'd learned in life however it was the value of composure, and so he kept his features set in stone as he continued to compare the girl before to the woman he'd both loved, and hated. When the passport was offered the azure eyed CEO barely glanced at it, as he continued to catalog the differences between his memory and apparition before him in an effort to restrain his initial shock.
Then he was presented with a doppelganger of his own daughter.
One of them would have been coincidence, even one after the other he might have passed without comment. Together however was clearly more than mere happenstance, something else was at play but for the life of him Alistair couldn't tell what it might be. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, he took the passport and flipped it open to an image of his son he'd not seen in several years, yet still managed to drag up less than pleasant memories.
He sighed and then gestured to a young black haired barista behind the coffee bar who abruptly faded into the floor before turning back to the two girls. "Why don't the two of you take a seat,"[/color] he began slowly as the same barista appeared beside the table, "and tell me precisely what's going on."
"Would you like anything to drink?" [/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."
Still sitting almost frozen against the low roof ledge with one leg drawn up and his head cradled in his right hand Zephyr was in little condition to do much of anything as he struggled to remain quiet and ignore the feeling that his skull was made of molten lead. Those few brief words had cost him more than the elemental would admit but he hated being reduced to nothing more than a prisoner in his own body. Hated not being able to think. Hated the loss of control.
Vaguely he was aware of movement beside him but with his eyes closed and unable to focus on his spatial awareness the hessian could only rely on his ears to track Isabel's movements as she knelt down beside him. Under other circumstances the elemental likely wouldn't complained about having the shapely soubrette lean over him while she searched him, as things were though each moment of contact was jarring and only served to amplify the overwhelming pounding in his head, leaving him almost comatose.
When the girl abruptly began jerking about though he found himself being shaken bodily and the resulting wave of agony finally robbed what little consciousness he had left. The last thing he knew before blacking out was a brief sensation of falling as he lost his balance before his head landed on something far more yielding than the rough gravel of the roof.
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 a world with over seven billion people Alistair Smith knew such chances were far more common than one might expect. Still the thought of being on the receiving end of such odds left him feeling both expectant and incredulous.
His son had been declared legally dead a little over five years ago, however a body had never been found, and given that he knew the boy shared at least some of his late mothers gift Alistair had known the possibility was there. He'd initially spent thousands searching for any trace of the lad, but as year after year had gone by without word, he'd... well, he'd given up. All that remained of his efforts was a short, simple, advert in the London Times asking about the boy, and that was more for his mother-... for Meredith's memory, than anything else.
Both the good, and the bad.
Shaking himself from his reverie Alistair forced his thoughts back to the present as he glanced up from his coffee and scanned his surroundings once more, for what little good it did him. London at midday was one of the most hectic places on earth and even he couldn't keep track of the comings and goings of all the thousands walking the streets.
Still, that was part of the reason he'd chosen this particular venue. It was one of his many pet projects; a little visited, modestly sized, coffee shop located along the Strand just a short distance from Trafalgar square. It was a small venture compared to his other endeavors and earned nearly nothing in terms of revenue despite its ideal location. However profit had never been the shops true purpose, and so he happily paid for its losses year after year.
There was something reassuring about owning an establishment comprised purely of very versatile and deeply grateful mutants, who would otherwise be without a job, just a short walk from your own corporate headquarters. It had certainly paid dividends during the recent riots, Ryleigh Inc had been one of the few business which had avoided any and all damage from the looting and general destruction. In fact it had been one of the few entities to make a profit that quarter. A fact which had kept him in good spirits for nearly a month.
Until someone had called asking about his son.
The CEO of Ryleigh drummed his fingers on the table in an impatient manner before sighing irritably. He'd been waiting over twenty minutes for this 'Maya' to arrive but apparently the woman had little concept of punctuality. He'd given her precise directions to the store and told her when and where he'd be there himself. His slate grey Armani suit was a stark contrast to the few others who lingered around the tables and so he doubted there was any chance he'd be missed and so his patience was wearing thin.
Several futile seconds of searching later and Zephyr's questing hand slowed to a stop amidst the pool of fabric. His medication appeared to have suffered the same treatment as his shirt leaving him with very few options. The migraines weren't like other types of injury; it wasn't the type of pain you could simply ignore. At best it was simply a constant nauseating vertigo, while at worst it could all but paralyzed you. whiting out vision, demolishing balance and replacing hearing with a silent shriek at the slightest hint of movement or mutation usage.
Given that he'd been foolish to try and sense the currents of an entire hospital his head felt as though it were being split and seared with the movement that came from every shallow breath. Still, although the pain was agonizing it wasn't the worst part. He'd actually considered this sort of scenario before and so had made a point of carrying emergency reserves of his painkillers. The problem however was that half of them had been lost when his jacket had dissolved and the other half would likely cause him to black out if he tried to reach for them.
Without medication though all he could was sit and wait for the pain to fade, which it would... eventually.
Until then though he needed a distraction, something to shift his attention was from the constant pounding. He'd unfortunately had a good amount of practice with such self-diversions when the migraines had first started, however the elemental had become somewhat slack since he'd started taking his medication. Conversation, or a narrative of some sort would have been ideal, however given that his present company consisted of a homicidal soubrette who was generally from fond of him, engaging discourse was unlikely at best.
"What are you looking for?"[/color]
Caught off guard by both the question and the surprisingly soft tone in which it had been issued Zephyr reflexively turned to glance at his companion in confusion, only to wince and curse at the fresh wave of pain the movement triggered before he forced himself back to stillness. What the hell was she playing at right now? In all the time he'd known her the ing'nue had expressed of three emotions; petulance, anger and grudging respect. Was she actually pitying him?
"Maybe I can help you find it?"[/color]
Damn it she was. Anger rose as a scowl began to form on his features and he edged his hand away from his face to glare at the girl, only for the motion to turn into a painful grimace as a searing heat lanced through his head and drained the anger before it had a chance to gain ground, though it did nothing to stop the muttered stream of curses.
He needed his pills.
He was quiet for a few moments after that, focused simply on getting his breathing back under control while his thoughts warred with themselves. Eventually though he managed to bite out, "My wallet. Front pocket. Pills"
He couldn't stay like this. He wouldn't stay like this. Not when he could get relief so easily. His pride could go hang itself, if the girl actually wanted to help he'd let her.
Crouched in a partial kneel with one hand braced against the floor and the other clutching his head, it was with a certain amount of bitter pessimism that Zephyr reflected upon the fact that familiarity with vertigo did little to ease its symptoms. Still, he’d learned how to cope to a degree and thus did his best to remain motionless as he waited for his sense of equilibrium to recover and tried to ignore the throbbing ache in his skull.
Searching for a distraction from his growing migraine the elemental swiftly cast his eyes over what little he could see from his position in an effort to focus on his surroundings and so distract himself. Annoyingly, his view was largely limited to the coarse gravel of the roof and the half wall which enclosed it. Though he was doing his best to suppress his spatial awareness he could still discern part of the dimensions for the room below him and Isabel’s presence beside him as she turned to face him and then stiffened.
"Well shit,"[/color]
Admittedly it wasn’t the most reassuring or pleasant of greetings but the hessian would readily admit that the girl had managed quite an accurate description of how he currently felt. The faint note of concern he caught in her voice also reassured him that, whatever ill will she presently bore against him for having to wear the costume, the brunette wasn’t in the mood to act on it.
Drawing deep but measured breaths Zephyr’s head began to clear rather quickly and as it did so he gradually shifted his stance; not into a standing position but a sitting one. He’d already learned the folly of trying to stand too soon and had no desire for a second bout of dizziness. As he was moving however his hand fell into a pool of oddly familiar fabric and a stray breeze swept across what he suddenly realized was his bare back.
"Hey, are you alri-"[/color]
Although the incorporeal state had its advantages it was not without its own risks. An open flame was perhaps the most immediate danger he faced whenever he became ethereal. Air was composed at least partially of oxygen after all, and thus a fire could consume that part of him in moments. Admittedly he could, in theory, confine the oxygen portion of his essence within a mass of nitrogen, but his attempts thus far had met with less than practical success.
A second, and more insidious, portent of the incorporeal state was dissipation, or erosion. The human body was meant to be solid, by unraveling the bonds which held it together one could easily begin to scatter and lose themselves over time. Although his control had grown to the point where he could largely negate such a risk it had been one of the elementals key misgivings in learning the ability.
The third, and perhaps the most frequent threat he faced when becoming intangible, was when he had to revert to his physical form. While the shift back was more intuitive than the initial change the hessian had to ensure there was sufficient space for his body to occupy, otherwise he’d likely a leaf of something similar embedded in his lungs.
Presently though, the most relevant hazard of shifting states was the difficulty in applying the change to inanimate matter, such as attire. Whereas his body would instinctively resume its natural shape, inert material would rapidly lose its structure and dissolve if it wasn’t compelled through the entire transition… as the remains of his shirt and jacket would attest.
Muttering a short series of curses as he rested his back against the low wall of the roof the elemental drew up one knee, using it to support the arm of the hand which was currently clutching his head. His other hand meanwhile was furtively sweeping through the scraps of clothing beside him searching for the container which held his painkillers.
"Uh, Zephyr? Why are you half naked?"[/color]
Not deigning to meet the girls gaze and unable to keep the pained and bitter tone from his voice the hessian simply replied. “I thought I’d return the favour.”
I shall be setting out to my new apartment and job this coming Tuesday. Once I leave I will have no guarantee of internet access until October 6th, and even that is currently looking somewhat dubious. My posting shall therefore become practically nonexistent.
Additionally, my profession is not known for its kind hours and so it shall likely take me a while to adjust before I can get back to any kind of regular posting schedule.
In short, my free time is about to evaporate and my posting will be next nill.
"Cute, but want a name. Business before pleasure, Dio. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard it.”[/color]
Hiding a frown Zephyr kept his arm loosely fixed around the redheads side as she toyed with his shirt. She was gravely mistaken if she thought she'd get anything incriminating from him. Discussing clients publicly in his profession was bad for business, even two years on. Ralls would have more luck wringing water from a stone. Still she was clearly trying to tease him, there was no reason he couldn't respond in kind but he'd let her have her say first.
"Old Stories make the biggest splash... Any tips you could provide, of course, would be kept strictly confidential."[/color]
Meeting the soubrettes gaze smirk for smirk the elemental let his hand wander up and down the girls side as she leaned into him, tracing her curves with his fingers as he trailed from her hips to her ribs and back again, using just enough pressure to be noticeable as he sought for any hint of a twitch or shiver.
"Ms. Olos doesn't truly concern me one way or another. I think you might be over estimating her though, she's had two years; if she were going to recover she would have done so by now. Honestly I don't see what she's done to deserve your good grace."
"As for keeping things confidential," He gave a low chuckle, "I'm afraid I've learned that the media can rarely be trusted, though you're free to try and convince me otherwise."
Credit where credit was due, the girl was quite good at dissembling and likely anyone who happened to be watching would see nothing amiss with the young redhead stretching up to whisper in elementals ear, even if said elemental had to shift his arm and lean down slightly for the gesture to actually work. It was classic clichéd scene that the elemental had no issues working with, the words themselves however were another issue entirely.
“I, want to know who hired you to ruin Lauren Olos reputation.”[/color]
Restraining a sigh Zephyr subtly lifted his arm out of the soubrettes grasp and slipped it around her waist as he swiftly mulled over his response. That particular incident with Ms. Olos had been over two years ago and he’d half hoped the redhead would have forgotten, yet she seemed to have her sights set on fishing for a story. There was little cause for concern just yet though; it shouldn’t be too difficult to persuade the gamine to forget about the disgraced actress, but if he couldn’t well, it wasn’t as though she could prove anything otherwise it would have reached the press long ago.
“Hmm, Olos… Olos. The name rings a faint bell, she’s rather old news isn’t she?” Tilting his own head down to the redheads ear the elemental returned the whisper he’ as he trailed an almost indistinct pulse of air down the girl spine. “I sure I can think of better ways to spend our 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."
Despite being located well within the city’s heart the chapel, as with most religious structures, somehow managed to cultivate an air of quiescence and serenity. The passing traffic somehow seemed more distant and the typically brash New Yorkers become rather reticent. It was almost unnatural and yet Zephyr found himself appreciating the false solitude even as his svelte companion abruptly took the lead.
The hessian generally put little store by religion. While he would acknowledge that faith could cause people to do wonderful and terrible things, the concept of deity’s and destiny simply struck him as nothing more than delusional. Still, he’d long learned to keep such opinions to himself and had little intention of sharing such views given his current setting.
When the redhead led him to the graveyard though and mentioned her deceased relatives the elemental couldn’t help but ponder how fitting the backdrop for their conversation had become.
Whether she knew it or not Ms. Ralls was treading thin ice and not just with the hessian himself. The gamine seemed to have started a hobby of offending those who would have little compunction with killing her. Most notably one Isabel Duskmoor who’d gone on more than rampage over the entire ‘bone bikini’ affair and would gladly see the redhead fill a grave, leading many to wonder how the reporter was still drawing breath almost two months on.
For Zephyr himself though Maxine was currently little more than nuisance; the last thing he wanted was media attention. He needed to distract, or preferably persuade, the ingénue that, for now at least, he was simply an innocuous individual and thus there were better headlines to be had. If she proved overly obstinate however, well… things could become unpleasant. Until then though he was quite comfortable in his current role and saw little reason to disrupt things.
“So. Why are you letting me follow you?”[/color]
Raising an eyebrow the hessian glanced down and gave the girl a measuring look for a few moments before replying. “I suppose,” he said slowly as a slight smirk crossed his features, “that would depend on why you thought I was worth following.”
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."
Wonder of wonders the girl was actually listening to him. He could hear the odd creak of furniture being moved and the short screech of a window being opened through the brunettes phone interspersed amongst her short commentary as she dashed about the small room. Her following question though gave Zephyr a moments pause as he struggled to think past the growing pounding in his skull.
In all likelihood he wouldn't have any difficulty in simply walking out of the building if he chose to do so. He'd put a good deal of effort into staying off the local authorities radar and so he'd be just another face in the crowd. Still there was a chance the NYPD would try and lockdown the hospital and while it wouldn't ruin things such a measure would be... inconvenient.
Better to take his own advice and leave as quickly as possible.
"I... should be fine. I'll head back to the apartment." The words were clipped and he couldn't quite mask the pained cadence in his voice before he ended the call and spent a handful of seconds reigning in his awareness and gathering his thoughts. Then, with one hand still clutching the bridge of his nose, the elemental awkwardly pulled himself to his feet, struggling to ignore the throbbing pain lancing through his head as he staggered the short distance to the open window of his own room.
Although he'd become accustomed to incorporeality it was not a natural state and the transition was never as effortless as it was for his elemental counterpart. Granted, on a good day he could manage the shift to air almost as quickly as Ghost but it required a clear head and a certain degree of confidence, neither of which he had at the moment.
And so he took his time, breathing deeply as he allowed himself to unravel gradually. Focusing more on performing the transition properly and keeping a firm grip on his essence while his senses faded one by one. It was an unpleasant experience but it muted the pain to a degree and he'd learned to tolerate it. After perhaps a minute or so he finished the transformation
Eventually, after perhaps a minute or so, the transformation had finished and Zephyr ushered himself through the windows narrow wire mesh and out into the open air before pausing for a moment to reorient himself. Being stripped of all perceptions bar one had a way of distorting ones internal compass. In this particular instance though a rather familiar, yet unexpected winged form, swiftly drew the hessians attention and allowed him to get a general sense of direction before he rapidly closed in on shapely soubrette.
While he'd known that Isabel possessed an admirable amount of control over her own bones the hessian hadn't thought the girl creative enough to explore such a use for her mutation. That being said her attempt at flight hadn't been entirely successful; while the wings she'd crafted were impressive they were still made from bone and thus rather heavy thus limiting her to little more than gliding.
With a certain degree of... assistance however, full flight would be well within her grasp.
Given that Isabel's presence in the air was likely to draw a good deal of attention speed was rather of the essence. Zephyr therefore had little qualm with enveloping the gamines figure with his own ethereal form. Granting the girl an extra measure of support and speed in order to get both of them back to the abandoned apartment complex and out sight as soon as possible.
Upon reaching the somewhat dilapidated roof of the aforementioned building the elemental waited for the bonemancer to make her landing before extricating himself. Drifting back behind the soubrette as he wearily gathered his form and prepared to shift back to flesh and blood. Carrying Isabel had taken far more effort than he'd initially thought and the fatigue had transferred to this thoughts making his reactions sluggish.
Reverting to his original state had always been far easier than leaving it though and so he paid little attention as he let himself shift back, feeling blood flesh and bone knit itself back together at a speed which was near instantaneous, and caused him to all but collapse against the rough gravel roof as the pounding in his head returned with full force.
Idly, a small part of him wondered why it was so cold.
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 light, almost rueful laughter, which shook Riley’s shoulders caused her hair, and other areas, to bounce slightly even as she playfully dismissed the elementals somewhat discursive compliments. The smile which now seemed to be ever present on her lips though signaled to the hessian that the soubrette would likely have little against prolonging the metaphor.
“Hmm, just imagination?” He hummed in a faint tone of mock disappointment as he trailed his gaze from the floor up to her eyes. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short; it needn’t necessarily be literal blindness of sight, it could just as easily refer to the sense of stunning you’re audience.”
Giving a slightly self-depreciating shrug which was almost entirely feigned the elemental returned the gamines smile. “Granted that’s just my own take on the matter but, for what it’s worth, I’d say you’ve easily managed both with at least one person here.”
All technically true, but then an opinion could hardly be wrong after all. Whether the girl would discern or care about such a distinction was a matter he had no immediate intention of investigating.
“Oliver? Are you sure it’s not John?”[/color]
Of the things he’d thought she might question his name had not been one of them, especially when he’d deigned to give her one which was genuine. Still he wasn’t beyond appreciating the slight irony and, after pausing just briefly to judge the brunettes tone, a smirk once again began to tug at his lips as he replied, “Ah, that would be my middle name.”
Again, the truth, whether she interpreted it correctly well, he could hardly be blamed for any assumptions she might make.
The inquiry into his university was met with barely any hesitation at all; it was a question he’d faced all too often that the simple response was close to automatic in a setting such as this. Still he did his best to reign in the usual hubris he put forth when dealing with potential clients and instead attempted to affect a more modest mien as he simply said.
“Yale”
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."
