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.
Everyone who was anyone was working to understand how the rip between universes would impact their lives. Some people and personal, trivial concerns, but Chrysanthemum had no time worrying about the little things. As the CEO of a major importer and exporter of goods, the rip was a potential avenue for major business. There was no telling what goods might exist on one side and not the other, and she had the good fortune of prime location. Van Hart Enterprises was based out of and handled the largest amount of its shipping through New York. The board was putting in extra hours connecting with businesses in Bizarro-New York and things were looking up.
Of course, not every potential business partner was the type you listed on the books. Chrys and her company had a basic understanding of the major players in the New York Underworld, but the new world was rife with possibilities. Ears were pressed to the ground, but it was hard to investigate when all leads and evidence were on the other side of the tear in the universe.
Chrysanthemum’s first break came, funnily enough, from a plaything. Maybe Chrys had some time for little, trivial things. A new world meant a wide range of new toys to play with, and she had found herself a lovely one with wings and tufts of feathers around her collarbone. Wings were always intriguing, but the woman she collected for herself had bird-like wings rather than angelic wings. Her wings existed in place of her arms, like the Harpies of old. It was all Chrys could do to keep herself under control as she examined the unique anatomy.
It was the pain of having the feathers of her wings pulled out one by one that eventually caused the pretty birdie to slip. She mentioned the organization she worked for. No important details, but she did clarify it was big. She was a foot soldier, or claimed to be, for a group on the other side of the rip. She was dropping off a package at the club Chrysanthemum was at the night she was taken.
It was thrilling news. It was not going to save the birdie; she admitted to being a bit-player, which meant she would do no good in connecting Chrys to someone with authority. There were too many things she wanted to know about the bone structure of the wings and how much pressure hollow bones could handle. (Spoiler: not much.) Before she broke, she did give up one word for Chrys: Syndicate.
Chrys started spending more time on the other side of the rip, talking to and torturing people until she worked her way to the right people. It helped that the leader of the Syndicate was so big time, he lacked anonymity. Jorge Cervantes, referred to fearfully as Poseidon, was the type of criminal who was untouchable. Legitimate businesses and power allowed him to hide his dealings in plain sight.
Chrys was accustomed to hiding in plain sight, and she made a habit of putting in time when it came to researching a target. Poseidon would not be some toy to play with or break, but he was still a target, and she needed to know the kind of man she was hoping to do business with. Much of his time was spent at the Atlantis Club, which seemed to be his base of operations. Chrys began to frequent Atlantis, because a clubgoer could be a regular occurrence without garnering unwanted attention. She would follow the man when she could during the day, making note of the people he did business with and the company he kept. She had no PIs on the other side, so she had to put in the work herself, which she was fine with. Stalking and research always appealed to her voyeurism.
Eventually, Chrys decided she wanted to have her first face-to-face meeting with Poseidon. The meeting had to be off the books because Chrys was a major presence in the business world and who she associated with mattered. Rather than schedule a meeting, she hoped to get on the titan’s good side in a more personal way before making any proposals. He still had no clue he was being watched, so there was no reason to suspect a lithe brunette who wanted some time with a powerful man. The gentleness of her proposal would depend a great deal on the merit of the man she was dealing with.
Below the main floor of the club, there was an underground bathhouse. It was the perfect setting for a more intimate potential business meeting. Chrys could work from a point of strength in a business skirt, but she had plenty of advantages out of one as well. Poseidon occasionally spent time down in the warm waters of his own business, so Chrys spent several nights forgoing the club in favor of those waters.
Her perseverance paid off when, one night, she walked in to find the strong upper body of Poseidon emerging from the illuminated blue water. She pulled away her towel to reveal the bikini underneath, smiling warmly. ”Would you mind a little company?”
Lori complied with Madison’s recommendation to lay low and relocate into the apartment provided to her. Even if she was suspicious of the random act of corporate kindness, Lori was practical. Remaining employed was better than finding herself suddenly unemployed without a plan, and renting an apartment for her would be an over-the-top step for her stalker to take.
Then again, Chrys was making herself known for over-the-top gestures. How else did you win someone over?
There was one bug in Lori’s apartment hidden in the television listening to the room. Anything beyond that would be reckless, given her target’s mutation. The bug was mainly there to see how Lori might react. She was a smart woman; once she saw the third letter, she would assume her stalker had a hand in what was happening to her. Would she respond to her suspicion by electromagnetically ruining her apartment? (And likely a neighbor’s electronics along the way.) Or would she start to play along? Even if she was not as excited about the game as Chrys, she might have been growing more curious to find out more about the woman behind the heart.
Chrys was pleased as she listened to Lori’s entrance into her temporary residence through to her departure. At no point did she hear the static of an audio feed being lost, which was promising. She waited long enough to receive a confirmation text that Lori had, indeed, left the building before she made her way to the blonde’s floor.
Getting into her apartment could have been an excuse to play dress up, sneak into the main office, and steal a key, but it would have required a lot of effort for minimal fun, so she had instead planned ahead. The last tenant of Lori’s apartment “vacated unexpectedly,” and somewhere between cries of pain, she just took it upon herself to copy his key before having the original mailed back to the front office. She had plenty of time to prepare for her potential plaything, but she needed toys to entertain her along the way, after all.
What she discovered left on a desk elicited an excited gasp. It was not fancy or ornate, but it was voluntary contact from Lori. Touching the receipt made her tingle.
She might have initially had more plans for her trip to Lori’s apartment, but the note turned her into a bubbly schoolgirl, retreating back to her office with her reward.
Chrys was back at her desk by the time she thought to check her phone for new reports. Lori was handling legal matters, but all reports would claim they had nothing to do with the potential predator in her life—at least not directly. Lori was taking the time to update her will. The egocentric part of Chrys (which was most of Chrys) initially thought she might have it in her head that her stalker had plans to kill her.
There were other reports though; meetings with an attourney. Lori had an upcoming legal battle in her life, and Chrys had been tossing around whether it would benefit her to get involved. ”I don’t need her money. I have money.” Realistically, she had more money than she needed, not that she did not enjoy living lavishly and excessively. ”I can help her case. Play the guardian angel again. Possibly too obvious. I could work against her needs. With no money, it keeps her from having options. Then again… a will.”
Now that was a curious detail. For Lori to write a will, there had to be someone in her life worth leaving money to, which was an important detail to sit on. ”Not ruling out interfering, but I’ll leave it for now. Let her sort out her affairs.” If the case was resolved, Lori would have fewer reasons to leave the apartment when the time came, and Chrys was all about limiting the time she would spend off leash. Metaphorically. Well, and literally.
Chrys took her pen and stationary and began her reply. She scrapped three drafts since she was initially writing with a hasty hand, but she slowed down and finished the small message she was looking to deliver.
Hello again, doll!
I don’t yet know if your coils hurt, but I’d love to. Pain can be fascinating, don’t you think? Just the right amount… and maybe a little more beyond that.
It’s touching to hear from you. I was beginning to think I was the only one who cared! I worried you might be heartless, but heartless people don’t keep others in their lives as something important.
You are important, dear. Important enough to keep.
PS- I thought such a kind gesture deserved a present. Something nicer than a record of sale.
As Chrys made the final touches to her letter, her phone jingled, jolting her out of her focused headspace and almost resulting in a misplaced stroke. She picked up the phone, but her tone was anything but inviting as she spat, "What!?"
Everything about her softened as the voice on the other end hesitantly explained herself. ”…Yes? …And you looked to… I see. And? …Oh my, so you were able to locate him?” A small moan of success and pleasure passed her lips unexpectedly, which she quickly followed with a short, ”Apologies. Anyway… could a meeting be arranged? …Yes, very, very good. Thank you, this has been excellent work. Follow up with the name of who I need to reach out to. Goodbye.” Chrys normally would leave a call without a true farewell, but she found herself in a surprisingly good mood. Luck was shining favorably on her, and she was not one to waste such a gift.
Chrys vanished into the room that held her makeup, clothing, and wigs, emerging as a brunette with light, medium length hair. She had to run and make some purchases. She had to find nice stationary that was not so distinct it could be traced back to one store. Lori deserved some quality pens as well, and what would the point of gift giving be if she did not wrap it all in a nice box and a tidy bow? It would be left in her mailbox on the ground level along with the note, because Lori already knew she could make it into the apartment. No need to be showy and reckless, after all.
There was a thrill in watching the photos she so meticulously picked out airing prominently on Wolf News. It was not the only place the photos were being run, but the channel had a knack for reporting on political scandal. Seeing Lori’s bare expanse of flesh on camera, exposed to the world, and knowing she was responsible? It was a pleasure all its own.
Of course, she had to keep herself under control. Suspicious noises or comments might draw attention, which would be unfortunate as she sat in a booth near the hotel bar, picking at a cobb salad. The aim was “unspectacular,” so she had a short, dishwater blonde wig and a large pair of sunglasses to obscure her face. To an onlooker, she had the appearance of a hungover hotel guest nursing a Blood Mary. It was important to be insignificant when she was a maybe a dozen feet from her new plaything.
There was a strong temptation to end the games when she was so close to Lori. She had the syringe in her purse, (because she always had the syringe in her purse.) If she was looking for a quick, breakable plaything, it would have been the right choice, but that was not what Chrys wanted out of the clever blonde. She wanted something long-term, which meant commitment and, sadly, patience.
She was looking over the top of her glasses to get a better look at Lori’s reaction, but the television gave her the best indicator. The screen’s colors were warping, and Chrys was certain it was a consequence of Lori’s mutation.
A phone was brought to Lori, and she clearly had a moment of suspicion. Chrys liked that. It was still too early to make phone calls herself, though that did not make the call any less a part of their game.
The conversation between Lori and her employer was a tense one, considering the lobbyist was turning herself into a potential liability. It could have merited a dismissal, but Lori would be fortunate enough to keep her position for the time being.
It would have been poor form for Chrysanthemum to fire the woman when she had just spent so much effort making her the star of the day-time news cycle.
Looking down at her phone’s large screen, she reread an email chain she took part in an hour earlier. Van Hart Enterprises had various vested interests in the tide of American and International politics, and they had the money and influence to get their voices heard. There was a team of lobbyists operating under a different umbrella working towards goals that would be most beneficial to the company, and that was where Lori Faust truly came across Chrysanthemum’s radar so prominently. Her name came up in a boring business interaction, but Chrys’s preliminary research revealed that she had (technically) fallen under her employment recently.
It was kismet. Lori and Chrys were destined to meet, and Lori was meant to be hers. It was the obvious answer, or at least a great excuse to dump resources into stalking her new blonde obsession.
Madison, the woman responsible for their lobbying initiative, was not on board with Chrys’s decision making, but she had no place to question her. The supervisor was pulling for an immediate dismissal, but the CEO wanted to make sure Lori laid low, which meant retaining her employment. Their employee was being slandered, and there was no definitive evidence she was even the woman on camera. She was the victim in this, and Van Heart Enterprises took care of their employees.
The job kept Lori so busy, it seemed like she spent most of her time in transit. Chrysanthemum would arrange for an apartment to be rented on a month-to-month basis as they figured out what to do with an otherwise useful employee. Chrys was certain she could be an asset once the media firestorm calmed down.
She was certainly a fan of Lori’s assets and potential usefulness, after all.
Moving away from her emails, she opened up the Note app on her phone. She would transcribe her writing by hand later, of course, but it was important to draft.
So you’ve hit a rocky patch. It certainly happens. To you more than others, it seems.
Luckily, someone out there must be looking out for you. Who knows how long that might last? People are fickle. Then again, isn’t it nice? Things just working to your benefit without having to try? Of course, you’ll likely try to control everything and spoil a nice thing. Seems counterproductive to me.
Enough about that. Color me curious: the coiled wires in your body. It sounds absolutely fascinating. Do you feel them? I lose sleep wondering about that.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy your housewarming presents!
She opened her to do list and listed out special requests to place for Lori’s new apartment. Vodka, triple sec, lemons, and cocktail glasses, (because Chrys was not an idiot, unlike the young bartender.) The request would be arranged anonymously, because the building managers would have questions why the owner of their penthouse was sending gifts to a new tenant four floors down.
I'll be heading out tomorrow morning for Austin and RTX! I'll be busy pretty much the entire time I'm there, and I return likely late Monday night. I'll try to sneak some MRO time, but it'll honestly be pretty limited.
This affects Rebecca Grey, Nate Holloway, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, and Neopolitan.
Chrysanthemum thanked the cleaning lady for her assistance with the mess in the living room. Several glass objects had “fallen” and the dish and food she had been eating “accidentally” ended up smashed against the wall. The woman was smart enough not to question Chrysanthemum’s inconsistencies, which was why she was employed.
The fit she threw was an Old Chrysanthemum moment, but she was composing herself again. Getting angry and flustered meant a lack of control, which was an improper way to react to bad news.
Reports came in and Lori’s response to Chrys’s letter was… lackluster. She was not a woman who saw being followed as a threat. With the shady past she carried with her, perhaps stalkers were just a problem she grew to live with, like any other inconvenience. It was fine; Chrys was not some lowly stalker, and now she had to make that clear.
After her little… outburst, Chrysanthemum pieced together the shreds of paper collected by her PI after Lori discarded it. She was pleased the man made the choice to scavenge the torn letter, because it gave her the chance to piece it back together. Lori had torn it and discarded it, but one clear piece was missing. She had kept the heart Chrys chose as her signature. It was too neat a hole to be a scrap missed by the collector. The thought of Lori keeping the most intimate part of her note lifted Chrys’s heart. She did not have Lori’s respect yet, but maybe she had her curiosity. It was a start!
She was in her office; the only room help was not allowed to enter. Photos were splayed across her screens from various points in Lori’s day, but her eyes were studying the morning photos of Lori’s flirtatious farewell with a handsome man. There was an initial flare of jealousy, as though the man should have known Lori was her plaything, and he had no right to intrude on her game. Old Chrysanthemum again. With a moment to cool down and think, she was thankful for the man.
”Calgary Vance, White House Speech Writer. Promising career, boring, not interesting.” Maybe in a different context, Chrys would have had an interest in Mr. Vance, but she had such a perfect plaything to occupy her desires.
”Lori Faust, promising political lobbyist. What a scandalous little thing, you are,” she purred. Vance was not the only person with political influence she was sharing a bed with. It was a strong power move, and a small part of Chrys respected that.
Of course, that was not the part plotting the next move. ”Tsk tsk, haven’t you learned by now? When you try taking control, things fall apart. Some with a little help…” Chrys was willing to nudge the natural order of things along to get what she wanted.
She selected three photos, and in all three, Lori’s face was not clearly shown. A photo through a window of her, still in a state of undress, talking with Vance in the kitchen. The two brushing up against each other in the same state of undress. One shot outside the front door with Vance giving Lori a playful swat on the bottom. They were perfect; she was not ready to get Lori’s face out to the public yet, but in those photos, the right people would recognize her.
She scheduled emails to be sent overnight, sharing the photos and a brief explanation of their relevance. ”Pictured, Calgary Vance, Chief Speech Writer for the White House, carrying on an illicit rendezvous with an unidentified political lobbyist. Overheard discussing the Vice President’s speech and a portion of said speech involving human trials.” It could seem flimsy, but with the human trials line remaining in the speech, it would give Chrys’s claims credibility. With the sorry state of media, at least one source would take the bait, and the rest would follow. It helped that Chrysanthemum was hitting all the relevant news sources on a National level, as well as in New York and D.C. for good measure.
Lori was trying to gain influence and control powerful men to get what she wanted, so it was important to rip that support system away from her.
The photos were the important play, but Chrys would be remiss if she did not write up another note for Lori. Now that they were in contact, (more or less,) the last thing she wanted was for Lori to believe she stopped thinking about her.
I’m almost disappointed, but we only just met. I can forgive your rudeness. You’re still learning.
You’re still playing your games, but haven’t you figured it out by now? Some people were meant to play games, some people get played.
Your new bedmate is nice, but I liked the last one more. Of course, after tonight, I’m not expecting you’ll be welcome in that kitchen again. In fact, I bet a lot of your potential partners might be wary around blonde hair and a nice butt.
Just know, when they leave you alone, you’ll always have me.
(PS- Will you steal my heart away this time, too?)
The note was once again accompanied by Lori’s itinerary for the past day. Chrys looked the letter over three times, partially to proofread, but mostly because of the tingly feeling it gave her thinking about Lori receiving her letter. From what her PI managed to overhear, (and boy, did that man deserve a raise,) the blonde lobbyist was hesitant to commit to plans with Calgary that night. Chrys was certain she would end up in another bed for the evening; she was using politicians not only for influence and gifts, but for a roof and a bed. Through her research, Chrys had yet to find a permanent address Lori had in her name, or even associated with her.
She could have one more night. The next day the news would break. Even with Lori’s face not clearly shown in the photos, there was enough of her hair, body, and distinguishing features. Anyone intimately associated with Lori would recognize her, and the gossip would tear through the political space, putting people on their guard for the time being. No one was looking for a fresh scandal in the age of internet and dirty journalism.
Lori had to know Chrysanthemum was not some passive stalker, watching the blonde to get her kicks. It was time to start proving that, even from the shadows, she had influence of her own.
Chrysanthemum barely remembered how her newest obsession came to her attention. It was likely a business meeting. In fact, that sounded right: she was talking to a Supervisor from some other company. (That was the extent of Chrys’s interest in him.) He spoke a lot, but somehow he got on the topic of a business they once worked with, and the former CEO who seemingly dropped off the map.
What happened to her? The question was enough to pick at Chrys’s curiosity, and she was between games, so she had plenty of time on her hands, (ignoring the mandatory time required to run Van Hart Enterprises.) Looking further into her departure, Chrys found out the woman was ousted from her own company. Chrys was not one to take the moral high ground, with her own rise to power coming as the result of a different kind of “hostile takeover.” She did wonder what that kind of fall from grace might do to a person. Someone who had so much power, suddenly made vulnerable… weak… susceptible…
The possibilities made her heart flutter.
New York was a large city, and one person among millions could get lost in the shuffle. Thankfully, some of those millions worked as private investigators, and some of those could be paid to keep questions to a minimum. Chrys liked to do her own following; it was therapeutic, watching people. She enjoyed being the unwatched observer, holding all the power and knowledge in a one-sided relationship. Unfortunately, her time was not limitless, and when it came to tracking someone down, she could hire a handful of professionals to locate her targets and drudge up the initial dirt from which her research could bloom.
”Lori Faust. Thirty-two, going on thirty-three, publicly known mutant.” The room was dimly lit by the glow of multiple screens displaying reports provided by her PI helpers. Chrys was the only person in the room, analyzing information aloud to herself. ”The driving force behind Faust Pharmaceuticals, proprietary source for M, defunct and off the active market, respectively. Led an organization known as The Order, also defunct. Retreated to the Mansion. Not even Sanctuary, after all she did for that place.”
She clicked her tongue disapprovingly, feigning sympathy for how far Lori fell. ”My, my, being in control has not suited you in the past, has it?” The corners of her lips curled into an unnerving smile.
As Chrys’s eyes scanned her monitors, she was reaching into her purse for a small, leather-bound notebook. ”Unverified rumors from more than one employee that she might have kept company of her own. Some live-in man. Very curious. Definitely worth more research.” The reports gave her a start, but she had her own digging to do and questions to ask. If there was a photo floating around somewhere, she would find that, too.
Flipping through her notebook, Chrys had times, locations, and activities listed on several pages. She had spent her days off from work in one of her many wigs, keeping track of Lori as she went about her day. She had amassed three days’ worth of Lori’s life, clearly outlined in organized rows. The original notes would be kept; knowing Lori’s habits and routines would be useful going forward, and her handwriting was hastily composed as she was often jotting details down on the move. She took out a fresh piece of stationary and copied down the times and locations in more legible, elegant handwriting.
At the end of Lori’s itinerary, Chrys added an additional message she had already composed carefully earlier in the evening.
Oh dear,
Not as busy as you used to be once upon a time, are you?
Maybe it’s better this way. Certainly easier, right? You used to have so much to worry about, after all.
Anyway, have a nice morning. It should be almost 7:00, right?
I can’t wait to see what you do next! (And I will see.)
In place of a signature, she drew a heart. She considered drawing a small, multi-petalled flower, but that would be a careless clue, and Old Chrysanthemum would have been careless. New Chrysanthemum was taking her time and playing carefully as she established the game.
First contact was important, and so was sending a message. Lori would understand that she was out there somewhere and that she was watching. She would work the next day, but she had eight people hired to track her movements for two hours at a time throughout the day. No one person would follow long enough to be noticed, and none of her PIs would know just how closely Chrys was following the woman’s movements. ”I had to take those first days for myself,” she explained softly to a photo of Lori on the monitor. ”Those first days of watching… those are the most intimate. When you don’t even know I might be there yet.”
She was going to know now, though. Lori would wake up the next day, and a new itinerary would be waiting at her doorstep. She had to know Chrys was not just present; she was omnipresent. As much as Lori was aware of her and looked for her presence, she would eventually realize that her stalker was everywhere, yet still out of her reach. She had to know that she was not the one dictating the game; she was just a piece on the board, not a player.
And of course, it was only a first impression. Chrys had learned that patience came easiest when she allowed her fun to build, and she was hoping to enjoy a longer game with Lori.
Taking a black hoodie off a hook near the door, Chrys left her apartment. She had to hand off the letter to someone who could leave it in front of Lori’s door without being detected, and New York had people more suited to the task who cared enough about money to leave the letter sealed along with their lips.
Chrys nearly skipped out of her apartment. First contact always made her giddy like a love-struck schoolgirl.
Chrys sat open-mouthed and speechless as Tess went off on her phone like it had just kicked a puppy, unsure of the last time she saw anyone as riled up and totally enraged as the young woman scorned. If anything, her friend was providing Chrys with more evidence to an important life lesson: love ends poorly and people are terrible.
Taking the phone back, it was a moment before Chrys could gather words into a reply. "Um, yeah. What a pansy." Seriously, who would hang up on a call with that much creative verbage?
Tess's bottle was clearly empty, so Chrys hopped to her feet and over to the fridge. "Listen sweetie, I promise you this guy isn't worth beating yourself up over because no guy is. They all suck and are selfish and use people." Said the pot about the kettle. But she was feeling something she could not quite place, (side note: it was empathy;) and seeing Tess so upset was bothering her.
Tossing another alcoholic cooler Tess's way, Chrys grabbed one for herself, decidedly in the mood for the tropical flavors of coconut, orange, and pineapple in a bahama mama. "Have another of those. Tonight shouldn't be about him." Of course it was going to be; he was going to be on Tess's mind, but the least she could use was a distraction.
Chrys watched as Akshay pulled out his wallet. It was the appropriate thing for a boyfriend to do, but it felt rather silly considering her net worth. Even if the logic was not there, the sentiment was, and she could not help but smile at the gesture, so she nodded, allowing him to pay. She would probably reimburse him later, possibly with dinner.
With snacks in hand, Chrys led the way to their theater, her arm still draped around Akshay's while her free hand was already opening the package, commanded by her notorious sweet tooth.
Looking into the theater from the doors, Chrys scanned the fairly empty auditorium seating. "Alright," she affirmed aloud at her own inner musings. She led the way to the middle seats in the back row. "I like it best up here; I can see the screen, and I can also see the people below me." If it was a horror movie, the people would probably be another source of amusement with hands flying in the air or jumping up in surprise.
Resting her head on Akshay's shoulder, she thought of a question to fill time while the boring pre-trailer stuff was up on the screen. "So is it an expensive process making comics? I mean, I have no idea about the creative stuff and supplies and junk, but I can imagine advertising and production and shipping being a pain." She was after all, part of some sort of distribution company, and even as a figurehead, she had some basic idea of costs.
It was not an easy task tracing things to the source of M distribution in New York; those involved were clearly smart with how they went about their business. Chrys had to exhaust business contacts, as well as some of her father's less reputable contacts simply to get wind of Mondragon Labs, let alone to set up a meeting.
She was dressed professionally in a modest pencil skirt and a white blouse, with her hair tied in a neat bun. She would have been wearing glasses if she had them, all in hopes of painting a proper picture in opposition of anything close to her own personal tastes.
Chrys was her father's puppet; she would act as the his hand, guided by his will, and that will demanded she present herself in the best manner possible to establish a business connection. During her time at the Labs, she would be on her best behavior, resisting any urges she might come across.
Composing herself, she approached the receptionist in hopes of some guidance. "I have a meeting with Miss... Solderburg?" She was pretty sure that was the name she had received. Beyond a name, there was not much else to be found regarding the woman, leaving Chrys curious about who exactly she was meeting with.
Chrys did her best to compose herself as she left her father's office. Still a bit shaky, she carefully closed his door, trying to avoid too much in the way of noise. She walked back to her office, wearing a trendy scarf she was not wearing when she entered the meeting with her father. The scarf would garner less stray looks than the shallow cuts healing along her neck and shoulders. She could still taste remnants of cloth in her mouth from the bandanna of protection worn for her father's sake. She would have been in trouble if she formed a link on instinct.
Chrys's secretary did her best to get the dollmaster's attention, but it was futile; Chrys bypassed her completely and reentered her office, where she proceeded to close and lock the door.
Her skin was still covered in goosebumps; it had been a long time since... she had her father's attention. For years, she felt cast aside by her father, like the least loved child tossed aside. Even her feelings of uneasiness could not keep her mind off the sensation of being recognized and admired by her father. Anyone else would realize her father's attention was only given to her as a means of manipulating her into fulfilling his needs, but Chrys was so trained to seek her father's approval, she was blind to the truth.
He even spelled the truth out for her; she was his puppet and he was pulling her strings, and even still, she happily picked up her phone and began reaching out to contacts, simply pleased to be living up to her purpose.
It was not surprising to know Tess would do large property damage at Chrys's request, but that had less to do with loyalty to Chrys and more to do with the desire for mayhem and vandalism the tough blonde personified. She was more surprised to hear that neither Tess nor her boyfriend owned a phone! Of course Tess was an unconventional person, but in the age of technology and internet, who didn't at least have a blackberry? Did anyone plan anything without a phone?
Chrys shook her head, giggling at Tess's alternate solution. She tossed her cell phone at her friends and took a new sip from a new bottle. "Go for it. Dial ten numbers and let fake stupid jerk boy have it!" In the broadest sense of the word, this was probably therapy.
