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.
So much of Chrys’s life involved lying. It was not her fault; her interests were the kind you had to be selective with. She could not share these desires with just anybody, and that was not even touching her need for violence. When she could be direct with someone like Tses, she preferred it. Chrysanthemum always knew what she wanted; it was just a matter of being allowed to express it.
There was an ebb to Tses’s resistance. The blonde showed her first signs of proactivity. Promising. She was inexperienced, as was to be expected, but Chrysanthemum was the perfect test partner. A soft moan escaped her lips as she bared more of her collarbone, letting Tses feel out her actions in the reflected sensations along her own bare body.
> ”I...I can learn.”
Music to her ears. Grinning, Chrysanthemum looped her fingers under the hem of her loose crop top. ”Mmm, good girl.” Slowly, she pulled the top up her body, the cotton caressing her skin until it was pulled over her head and discarded. ”Now that you’re really here, I think I should reward you with your first lesson.”
Chrysanthemum’s lips started with one soft kiss before straying away from Tses’s lips. From the corner of her jaw to that fair neck, Chrys made a point of nibbling the same spot Tses attended to on her body. From there, the kisses traveled down and down and down again… Tses was finally vulnerable, and Chrys wanted her to know exactly how good vulnerability could feel.
FTB
Chrysanthemum was shaking and gasping for air. Even with Tses’s lesser sense of pleasure, the sheer sensation of two bodies in the throes of passion was enough to knock anyone off their feet. Panting and glistening with beads of sweat, she did not have to worry about that. She was already off her feet, laying on the floor of her study entangled with Tses.
The bonded sex hit Chrys like a truck, but she was used to it. Tses had never even had that sense of release once before. Chrys tried to take things slowly for her sake, but when they both started to get lost in the heightening ecstasy, it became impossible to control the escalation.
When Chrys had her wits back, more or less, she kissed Tses’s forehead and asked in a weak voice, ”Pet, are you okay? Can you speak yet? If not… just nod for me, and I’ll take it from there.” Honestly, Chrys could still feel the aftershocks running through Tses. It would not shock her if it took some time for Tses to be verbal again.
For a moment—a beautiful moment—Tses was letting this all happen. She may have growled at the initial nibble, but she did not fight Chrysanthemum’s delicate touch. Chrys smirked against Tses’s mouth, because it was a very “Tses” reaction.
Things were going well until the thief understood what Chrys was offering and her defenses flared up again. She was skeptical; people who were hurt the way she was doubted the intentions of others. If not the intentions, Tses would doubt Chrys could do what she promised.
Chrys did not flinch at the hand grasping tightly. Her focus was entirely on Tses’s eyes. The brunette’s gaze was genuine and intense. ”Don’t compare me to the people you had before, Tses,” she warned seriously. ”I’m not some hormonal young man with no control over his own emotions. I’m not lovestruck or looking to enjoy you because that’s the current impulse handed down by my id.”
Getting down almost to Tses’s level, but making sure to keep the slightest height advantage, Chrys leaned in, pressing body to body, chest to chest with Tses. ”I’m not here for some puppy-love girlfriend and I’m not looking for something from you beyond your total submission.” A small request, to be sure.
Chrys’s voice was low, and as she shrunk the space between them further, each word was a breath brushing against Tses’s ear. ”Where has stubborn defiance gotten you? Shot and burdened by insecurities. I don’t want you to just be my doll; I want you to be my greatest treasure. I see so much beauty in you, but you fear it.”
Tses thought people wanted to change her. Most might. Chrysanthemum thought that missed the point. The only hand she had left unclaimed by Tses’s grip placed itself on Tses’s thigh. ”Everything stunning about you is already here behind those walls.” And walls could be broken. Who was better at breaking things than Chrysanthemum Van Hart?
This was a moment of truth. Not the moment of truth; they would have more of those. Tses could have been a passing fancy, but there was something about her. Her reservations. Her history with Chrysanthemum. Her contentious relationship with pleasure. The busy woman she was, she rarely had the time for long-term projects these days. Occasionally, it was worth taking the time to invest in something that intrigued her.
Tses was intriguing. This could have gone wrong. In the momentary break from sensory overload, she could have lashed out at the hand Chrysanthemum offered. If she told the puppeteer to fuck off, it would not be the first time. She was one of the few people who could get away with it.
The swell of pride came when Chrys felt Tses leaning into her touch. It was the start, and Chrysanthemum could take it and see how far Tses would let herself be taken. Her neatly manicured fingernails ran themselves into soft blonde locks. Using her hand, she tilted Tses’s face up, waiting for the proud woman to look up at her to meet her big green eyes. ”Oh poppet. There’s beauty in broken things. I started piecing you back together already. Let me keep taking care of you.”
Leaning down, Chrysanthemum took Tses’s bottom lip delicately between her teeth, before pressing into a kiss. In a hushed voice, she asked, ”I don’t want you out there lost when I can just keep you instead.”
It was written across her face what kind of effect this was having on Tses. She did not continue her attempts at inflicting pain, instead grasping at herself. She was having a hard time thinking of reasons to fight this.
Chrysanthemum shrugged a shoulder and her loose crop top slipped off it, exposing her bare shoulder. ”Maybe it does. Is it so bad to enjoy myself? You are a beautiful doll, Tses,” she admitted truthfully.
”I also remember you. So much you had to be in control of. Protecting yourself from everything, even joy.” Before Chrysanthemum’s stint in the facility, she was there to see Tses almost let a man in and find reasons to push him away. ”I don’t break all my toys. I’ve always had a soft spot for you, Tses,” she said as her hand appropriately found a soft spot as well.
Chrysanthemum bit her own lip to keep her focus. ”There’s plenty to enjoy able vulnerability when done right. I want to see you vulnerable, my old friend. I want to help you understand the peace in giving into my and letting me lead you to something wholly wonderful.”
Finally pulling her hand away from her relentless teasing. To give Tses a moment of clarity where her mind could be her own to think on those words, that hand carefully reached to place itself on Tses’s cheek. She brushed her thumb across Tses’s lips. ”What do you have to lose? What would it take for you to try?”
Chrysanthemum considered herself an enternal student in many ways. Of business, of anatomy, of pleasure, and of pain. Her knowledge of the human body was impressive, but with her powers, they did not have to be. Chrysanthemum had an intimate knowledge of her own body, and as long as she could establish a connection, that was enough.
As she anticipated, Tses had no way to prepare for an onslaught of sensations like this. Chrysanthemum took special delight in watching an affected Tses grow powerless and gasping. Tses was a strong, impressive woman, and Chrys could bend her with a well placed sueeze.
Unsurprisingly, given who she was, Tses did show signs of resistance. The sharp sensation of pierced skin on her arm transferred back to Chrys, who did her best to stifle a moan. That was impressive; most people were too hesitant to bite themselves so hard, they broke flesh. There was an instinct to restrain yourself in most people to prevent intentional pain. It was the same reason drowning yourself or punching yourself full force were hard to do.
Except Tses was strong-willed and somehow more fearful of pleasure than pain. ”Oh, Tses… pain’s familiar isn’t it? You’re not alone, dear.” She stepped toward Tses, not reaching out for her yet—she would lash out. She was still feeling defensive. Instead, her hand would remain where it was. Well, maybe a quick shift from the right to the left. Keep the sensation fresh.
”But why fear pleasure? Just because you aren’t used to it? Or… because you can’t have your guard up constantly if you…” A purposeful tweak. ”…give into it? Be honest, darling. Isn’t that lost control worth…” A kneading, pressed palm. ”…A little well-deserved empty-headed bliss?”
Unsurprisingly, Tses was apprehensive about the bow. For a thief, she seemed to have an aversion to some of the finer things in life when it came to prettying herself up. It was a shame, because in Chrys’s eyes, she was starting from a very pretty base.
The touching was genuinely done out of habit. Chrys was a tactile person, and savored the sensations of skin on skin, so she often absent-mindedly traced against her skin with her own fingertips. It was only when she returned her attention to Tses that it became clear she was sharing those delicate feelings. This made something important now obvious: Tses was not used to the level of sensitivity to touch Chrysanthemum lived with. Those touches, while not chaste, were hardly intimate.
Her lips curled into a wicked smile. She wondered…
”Oh, Tsesy, there’s no rush. You’ve had a rough day, and you seem stressed, darling. Maybe…” Chrys’s hand trailed back up her body, hovering just shy of her own chest like a threat before her grasp found flesh. ”…you could do with a little distraction. I think you have too many worries in that pretty head of yours. Why don’t we clear it out and give you something nicer to focus on?” People were more receptive when dealing with pain or pleasure. While Chrysanthemum could peddle both, she wanted to see what would come from giving pleasure to someone who seemed to lack experience with it.
Tses was never the most accessible person, and not particularly tolerant of the forward nature Chrysanthemum liked to take with her. Thankfully, she was just coming out of something between a coma and straight-up death. It was not surprising she might be groggy and slow to respond. And thanks to that, the puppeteer snuck a kiss.
Being familiar with her powers, Tses did not seem surprised at the new sensation being transferred to her. What she was surprised by, probably justifiably so, was her lack of clothes.
Chrys could feel the warmth on her cheeks that actually came from Tses. "Of course, and when I finished piecing a reckless, ungrateful doll's head back together, I was obviously going to play dress up and put a nice pretty bow on you, but until then, you don't generally dress cadavers, which is what I thought you were, sorry!" the words came fast, but she seemed less apologetic and more matter of fact. Clearly, she thought the answer should have been obvious.
"If you can get yourself back to your feet, I can gladly take you to my wardrobe and help you pick out something for that lovely body of yours." Chrysanthemum was not about to avert her gaze; she had already seen all of Tses and approved of what she saw.
Of course, it was easy to think of the many possibilities of dressing a body like that. "A skirt, maybe," she thought aloud, her fingers caressing their way up her thighs as she spoke, before passing her cut-offs I'm dragging along her sensitive waist. "Midriff exposing would be nice..."
Her hand moved up before stopping just shy of her chest. She grinned, pulling her hand away to instead wrap a lock of her own hair around her finger. "A tiara, maybe, just for old time's sake."
Turning back to Tses, Chrys realize she got a little wrapped up in imagining dress-up (and the enjoyable sensations of her own delicate touch) and nearly forgot she had a perfectly good doll still waiting for her. " I'm sorry, drifted off for a second. Can you stand? I didn't notice any major trauma to your legs." Which wasn't to say there would not be some brain trauma that could keep her from walking, so Chrys watched curiously for the answer.
So Tses was shot, which certainly explained the skull damage. ”At least now I know why I had to put your head back together. The phasing might also explain why your brain seemed miraculously intact for someone who took a shot to the head. Chrysanthemum no longer had to explore that mystery, which was great, because any of her intended exploration would likely have turned a surprisingly alive Tses into an unfortunately dead one.
Chrys looked down at her wrist when Tses caught it and pouted, wondering why she was being kept from properly examining her work. ”I imagine being declared legally dead, then waking up on my table would feel weird—and who knows what consequences might come from that kind of emergency phasing?” In theory, she could know with enough examination.
This was Tses, who had always had a challenging personality, so Chrys smiled warmly and tried her best to ease her into rebirth. ”If there’s still something wrong with you, I can make it my duty as a friend to help figure out what,” she offered, leaning in to plant a kiss on Tses’s forehead.
Walking away with that little taste of Tses to form a connection, Chrys rubbed her forearm back and forth in a motion she always found soothing. Tses was confused and potentially stressed, so why not offer some calm, hopefully. ”I don’t suppose you remember how or why you were shot? You were always my favorite troublemaker, so I can make some educated guesses.” Indeed, Tses never had a problem getting herself in questionable situations, which the psychopathic brunette found appealing in a friend.
Water. An obvious request! She should have expected that being dead would work up a thirst. ”Right. Of course.” The brunette ran back to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Heaven forbid she get something as pedestrian as tap water. ”Forgive me; I sent the help away for the week. I justified it with the New Year, but really, I prefer to be left alone when I have a corpse around.”
Pouring the water into a glass, Chrys offered the glass to the woman as she opened her eyes. This was wonderful; those gorgeous eyes would have deteriorated over time, and as a doll, they would have eventually needed replacement. There was no way those false eyes would hold up to the real thing.
Chrysnthemum’s fingers traced her careful stitchwork on Tses’s head. ”It’s been too long, darling. You gave me quite a scare! I thought I was going to have to add you to my collection.” Not that she was ruling that out just yet. ”What do you remember of how you got here, Tsesy?”
Certain people would accuse Chrysanthemum of being uncontrolled chaos, but she took offense to an accusation like that. Well, she took offense now. Even she could admit that, in her youth, she was little more than a wandering Id when left unchecked, looking for sex and murder wherever she went.
Good times.
These days, Chrys was more controlled. In fact, control was the name of her game. She controlled the company she inherited from her abusive father, which gave her some say over the goings-on with Syndicate, as one of its financial contributors. In her personal life, she also valued the things—and the people—she could maintain full control over. As for herself, she was in control… mostly. Her proclivities were kept to carefully selected situations.
Finding out Tses had died… that made Chrysanthemum feel less in control. Someone suffered for that. It could not be helped; she had made an effort to keep tabs on her old friend, but to suddenly realize she was gone… there was a tantrum to be had there. Blood was spilled. Not her blood.
Chrysanthemum wanted to know what happened, and when that was done, she wanted to memorialize her friend. After paying the right people, Chrys had Tses’s body in her penthouse laid out and awaiting attention.
It was not publicized for obvious reasons, but Chrysanthemum had spent years developing a keen understanding of the mechanics of the human body. Studying and research helped. Taking them apart helped, too. Tses’s skull had damage, but Doctor Chrys took care of that. She wanted Tses flawless, like she remembered.
The damage to Tses was patched up and from a physical standpoint, she was good as new. It was sad, but if she was not going to get her friend back, Tses would make a lovely doll when preserved correctly.
Returning to her study, scalpel and drainage tubing in hand, Chrys looked to the body resting on a flat, padded table in the center of the room. She was ready to empty away the blood from that otherwise pristine woman when… she blinked, confused. Was Tses… moving?
”Tses? Are you…” She ran over, dropping her tools and pressed two fingers against Tses’s neck. ”A pulse! Tses, are you alive? Please tell me you aren’t just tricking me like the frogs. Or Jameson.” Oh, Jameson. Electricity did such interesting things to his body.
Poseidon gave Chrysanthemum her time to speak. She was doing her best to read his face, but he was focused on taking in her proposal. He was stoic and pensive and all the other words that made it hard to guess what was going on in someone’s mind. She rationalized that thinking and consideration were appropriate answers from a man who knew how to operate as a business and as a leader. He had variables to take into account, not the least of which being the woman taking a nervous bite out of her lobster and the seafood stuffing it was topped with.
Beyond the sounds of Chrys eating and the faint traces of sounds from the nearby club, the room was silent. The businesswoman was trying to focus on her food and act nonchalant, but her eyes darted back to Jorge when his voice broke the silence.
She had his interest. He admitted as much with his first statement, but she could see it in his eyes. He saw the potential in their partnership. There was so much they could accomplish together, and the cogs were already turning as he saw all the ways he could use her resources to do great things.
Jorge did still have one question inspired by Chrysanthemum’s behavior and forwardness, and he gave her the respect of asking plainly, one businessperson to another. He wanted to know what she was hoping to receive from her end of their agreement. Chrys dabbed the corners of her mouth with a cloth napkin and leaned over the table. ”Of course, I have a great many things I was hoping for in coming to you. Obviously, from a business standpoint, my company stands to make a lot of money partnering with your enterprise. My business department will work on numbers we can both be happy with—and I certainly want to keep you happy,” she added, twirling a dark lock of hair around her finger.
”But I am not just my company. Jorge, I want a seat at your table.” Chrys looked down and back up before amending, ”Your metaphorical table. As a company, I want to be your partner. As a person… I want to be a part of what you will turn the Syndicate into. I’ll play whatever role I can in your grand game.” She recognized when someone was playing a larger game than she was, and she respected a player as skilled as Jorge. ”I’m not giving away my world; I want a place in the one you’re creating.”
Chrys was not dumb; if her sex appeal could help her during a business negotiation, she would use that to her advantage, (tastefully when necessary.) She had no doubt Jorge appreciated her beauty. She had also learned that Jorge was not like some of the cavemen she dealt with, crumbling at exposed skin. He held leverage on multiple levels: she was the one to seek him out and he knew it, he had home-field advantage, and he had spent over a full day doing everything to assert control in their budding professional relationship. She was the one who had to win him over, but at least he was proving to be tentatively receptive.
It was usually a faux pas to eat when a dining partner was not, but Chrysanthemum had no choice. Her plate was filled with savory, decadent flavors and her stomach was in desperate need of nourishment. Jorge was the one to offer the meal, after all, so it would have been rude to refuse.
If they were going to talk business, Chrysanthemum wanted to waste no time getting to Jorge’s product. Neither of them were using names, but they were talking about his Ambrosia. For all intents and purposes, it seemed synonymous with the defunct M Drug, which had a lucrative run on their side of the rift. It was time for Chrys to make herself useful. ”The product, as you’re aware, had its own cross-dimensional ‘doppelganger,’ so to speak. Without that poseur product on the market, there’s already demand in our New York. I have contact with ‘suppliers’ on all levels and could handle distribution in your brave new world.”
Chrysanthemum took another sip of her wine, making sure her lips were moistened enough to continue with her pitch. ”Of course, if that was all I could offer, this would be a boring conversation. I’m sure you’ve done your own research on me by now,” she said confidently. A man like Jorge was not going to walk into their meeting unprepared when he had a whole day to study up. ”My company specializes in the import and export of goods both nationally and internationally. New York has a primed market, but it’s just one city. With my assistance, you would have the chance to expand your operation globally. Just on a different globe.”
It was her best offer: an increased radius of influence. If Jorge liked control, she could give him that. Ambrosia was just the first step, but it would be a lucrative, powerful first step.
After chewing and swallowing a bite of her absolutely divine filet mignon, she added as a secondary note, ”We also have real estate contacts. I can work on my end to secure a location for an Atlantis in my universe.” She glanced up from her plate, grinning. ”After all, if you’re going to rule a world, you are going to want a place to look over your kingdom in style.”
Chrysanthemum was unsure what she was expecting as she approached her meeting with Jorge. The thought still occurred to her that she might be walking into a trap, but it was a baseless paranoia. Logically, the easiest opportunity to dispose of her would have been during her time strapped to a bed, unable to resist. To go through the effort of releasing her, bathing her, dolling her up and dressing her just to torture and kill her… well, okay, it sounded like something Chrysanthemum would do. Still, she was an exception to the rule; Jorge seemed like a practical man.
Then again, walking through the exotic club, images of the man sitting atop a throne comprised of women bent to his will. It was still outlandish, but she could work with that. Honestly, she’d give the torture plan a shot if there was food.
Fortunately, as the door to Jorge’s backroom opened, Chrys was hit with the tantalizing scents of the spread of foods prepared for their discussion. The class and selection of the meal boded well; Chrys held her business partners to a higher standard of life, not interested in partnering with riffraff. Jorge was decidedly not riffraff, much to her pleasure.
Of course, class and means did not mean Chrys needed everything to be proper and professional, and the way Jorge looked at her filled her need for a more casual, uninhibited atmosphere between the two. If he locked her away without touch and attention for a day to make her more appreciative, it was a smart play. A tingling sensation trailed across whatever skin his eyes scanned wickedly.
Chrys had earned enough respect for the businessman to greet her with a cordial kiss on the hand. The gesture even came with a compliment, which was received with a wide smile. The man knew the right things to say. He even showcased the dinner, which was the true star of the evening, regardless of how stunning she looked in her dress.
When he rose from kissing her knuckles, she replied with formal kisses on either cheek. She felt his stubble scratching against her cheek. ”Thank you very much, sir. My time alone has truly left me quite… insatiable.” The tone of her last word banished any remaining subtlety from her not-so-hidden meaning.
Taking a seat, Chrys made herself a plate to feed her very real non-sexual hunger. She was almost salivating as she grabbed stuffed lobster tail, filet mignon, and braised leeks, along with a generous serving of caviar at the suggestion of her host. The wine he poured was an excellent vintage and she had to take a sip before she took a bite of her meal so she could enjoy it with a clean palate. ”Excellent. Aromatic. Oaky, with hints of black cherry and an exquisite finish. You’re a man of good taste, Mister Cervantes.” He was making that abundantly clear.
Once she had a few bites of savory, satisfying food in her, Chrys felt more comfortable bringing business into their conversation. ”I am thoroughly impressed with your organization. Entertainment, community outreach.” Not all his outreach was friendly, of course. ”And from what I have learned, you have quite the product on your hands.” Working in important and exporting goods, she wanted to waste no time getting to her primary benefit as a business partner.
It was good to see Poseidon smiling in her presence, directly as a result of her. He had smiled the night before, but it was an ominous smile filled with ill-intent. Chrysanthemum knew smiles like that all too well and being on the receiving end of one could make your skin crawl. His new smiles were still wicked, but there was something inviting there. Wicked could be fun when things were on better terms, and they were getting there.
Finally released from her bonds, Chrys rubbed her wrists and surveyed the marks left by her struggling. They were pretty but not serious; they would not last two days on her skin. She rotated her shoulder, trying to loosen up her limbs and improve her blood flow. A business negotiation was on the horizon and she needed to be in tip-top shape for it. Her host did his part to help, squeezing her arms and massaging her shoulders. He earned several satisfied ”Mmmm”s in response.
Poseidon clarified that she would have time to “freshen up” prior to their discussion and Chrys was not about to argue. No one was in great condition after a full day in bondage, and she had been left tied down in her bikini, the ends of her hair still wet from the tub. ”Lovely,” she replied, watching Duke with a mischievous smile as he received his orders. Chrys wondered how he felt about playing guide to the woman who made him shout in pain.
Realizing she was reclaiming a position of power (relative to Poseidon, of course,) she approached Duke and looped her arm around his elbow. His response was minimal, but negative. ”Oh, please do lead the way, Duke,” Chrys purred, before looking over her shoulder to Jorge. ”I will see you shortly, sir.” And with that, she was led away from her one-day prison.
It was an unparalleled feeling to take a shower and relieve certain “bodily needs” after being removed from them, even for a day. The only moment she anticipated more was satisfying her hunger (for food, probably,) but that would come during her meeting with Jorge. Chrys wanted to present herself properly, so she made sure to dry her hair, reapply makeup (provided by her host, of course,) and paint her lips in a blood-red that would match the tie her host was wearing.
After providing her measurements, a selection of dresses was brought to the room and Chrys was able to look each over. They were all expensive, fashionable, and revealing. Poseidon was offering a specific style and it fit perfectly in Chrys’s comfort zone. She picked a slinky blood-red number to coordinate with her lipstick and his tie. Red heels were provided, perfume was applied, and Duke was leading her away from the private changing room and into a new area of the club.
When asked for a name to the place, Duke muttered, “Pearl Lounge.” Chrysanthemum looked around, fascinated at the exotic club connected to Atlantis. She did not frequent the establishments because they often had strict “no touching” rules, but she respected them. Any den of sin and satisfaction was a worthwhile destination, in her opinion.
She was led to a hallway away from the main floor, lined with private rooms. Duke opened a door and led Chrys into a cozy, dimly lit room where Jorge was waiting. ”My apologies if I left you waiting.”
Even with her exhaustion and boredom, Chrysanthemum’s whining still managed to sound playful rather than childish. Poseidon was grinning, but the large security guard with many valid reasons to dislike her was standing in the doorway. She had come so far and had so much to lose, her life included, that she had to really stick the landing and sell herself perfectly. She wanted to return home and she did not want to do it empty-handed.
Poseidon caressed her cheek, and Chrys leaned into the touch, biting her lip. It was gentle, but it was still interpersonal contact. It was not going to satisfy her cravings, but it would wet her appetite for when (and if) she was released back into the world.
Chrys was not looking to waste time, so she asked about her blood test and Poseidon obliged her. He tapped her nose with his finger, which made her face scrunch up as a natural reaction. It was a positive booping because she was tested and deemed a right and proper mutant. She smiled proudly, glad to be validated by a man whose opinion mattered. He had to look out for his own interests, which made sense to Chrys, who had always considered her interests priority over anything else. ”Understandable. That’s just good business.”
With her identity confirmed, Poseidon seemed more open to the idea of working with Chrysanthemum Van Hart. She was sure she would still have to make up for her subterfuge and stalking, but he saw value in her regardless.
Poseidon gestured to the restraints and handcuffs keeping her bound to her bed, suggesting that they were ready to release her if she so wished. ”Well, I’m not often the woman to turn down time in a state like this—with attentive company, at least,” she corrected, reaffirming her distaste for being ignored, ”I do have a company to run. I suppose I can give up a little play if you’re interested in talking business, Mister Cervantes.” He knew she was stalking him, so there was no valid reason to keep his name to herself. They had to start an open, honest dialogue if they were going to work together, correct?
