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.
[OOC: This thread was before Ambrose gets properly attached to Panu, which is why it may seem a little out of character for him to be so dismissive.]
”Cail, if you're smart, you won't act on Rose's order just yet. In fact, it would be in all of your best interests not to.”
...Ambrose really, really did not like this man.
Rose? Really? It didn't get the sort of rise out of him that Kaz had probably expected, but his arrogance was what was infuriating. Ambrose didn't know his mutation, assuming he even had one - and he expected that Kaz did - but he doubted that Kaz would survive a match with Cail, unless that power was "surviving black holes." Kaz clearly thought he was the smartest and strongest man in the room. Well, they'd see about that.
Ambrose raised an eyebrow as Kaz's hair contorted and stretched. Okay, some sort of body manipulation. That wasn't very threatening at all. He might've been worried of Kaz possessed an elemental power, but clearly he didn't. Body manipulation was nice, sure, but still was no match for Cail. Speaking of Cail - the man was bristling, clearly not liking Kaz either, which Ambrose appreciated. Ambrose gestured to let Cail know to stay back for now. He'd let this play out a bit. He could end it any second - Kaz's physical mutation would unfortunately work against him when it came to Cail's power - but this was the most entertainment he'd had in a long time. He didn't really expect that Panu was in any danger. And even if the boy did get hurt, he'd heard that the X-Mansion had a skilled healer mutant who undoubtedly would do whatever Ambrose said with... sufficient encouragement.
He listened as Kaz spoke to Panu. Clearly the man had even the vaguest sense of morality - one weakness to exploit. Unfortunately, Kaz hadn't quite gotten the message. Ambrose wasn't Panu's adoptive father out of love or any sort of affection. It was a purely business arrangement - Panu provided his ability in exchange for Ambrose providing protection and other benefits for Panu.
At least, that was what he told himself.
He was still standing by the office door, holding it open, so Kaz could see Cail and Madeline in addition to himself. ”As you can tell Rose, I'm not concerned with the threat of legal action and if you knew anything about me besides my name, you'd know it's a bad idea to threaten me. Especially with something vague and mysterious. I assure you, there's nothing you have hidden that I haven't seen before.”
Hmm. He wasn't worried about legal action? Well, it fit in line with the rest of his personality. He thought that his experiences made him untouchable. But if there was one thing Ambrose had learned, it was that you should never underestimate the power of the legal system. It would bite Kaz in the ass someday, and Ambrose would go great lengths to see that it would be because of this. Otherwise, it was your normal "I'm an emo badass" routine. Typical. Ambrose had been hoping for something a little more... radical? Unique? Maybe some actual attempt to attack either him or Panu?
This was turning out to be rather anticlimactic.
”I came here to resolve this without it getting ugly or unpleasant. I came here hoping you would be the responsible adult Panu said you were and would be willing to figure something out, a way to deal with the situation your son precipitated. If you're not, then there's no point in us staying here, and I'll have to deal with this my way.” Really. This again. Why was anyone under the impression he was a responsible adult? Either way, Panu wasn't really his son in any way that mattered. He thought he'd made that clear before, with subtext and all. But unfortunately, Ambrose was getting the impression that Kaz's body manipulation abilities didn't include increasing his brain cell count, so he might have to explain that. Again. And explicitly this time.
”So what do you say Rose, willing to talk like two men who care what happens to Panu?”
Ambrose sighed. The first thing he did was let the office door swing shut and go back to his desk. Madeline would feel a spike in Panu's fear, probably, if Kaz tried to do anything, and then the cavalry would come. But until then, his arm was getting tired. He sat down in his desk chair and leaned back, touching the tips of his fingers together. And then he spoke.
"I apologize," Ambrose said first, a friendly smile plastered on his face. "I don't think I made myself clear enough before, and for that, I am at fault." Well, didn't he sound pretentious today. And supervillain-y. All he needed was a fluffy white cat and the setup would be complete. "You see, Panu may be my son on paper, but what's on paper isn't what's necessarily true. Panu and I are not related in any way that matters. We are business partners, if that's easier for you to understand. He takes responsibility for his own actions. Yes, his own actions might be ill-informed due to his age, but didn't you hear him? He's made a promise to you, and I assure you, he will keep it."
Ambrose yawned. He'd stayed up all night working, and he hadn't quite gotten the sleep he should've. He idly wondered about whether he could successfully take a nap without Madeline noticing, once this unpleasant situation was over, but he doubted it.
"Anything else?" he asked, but it was dismissive. "Panu's given you his word that he won't interfere with whatever operation you've got going. I don't see what's all the trouble, anyway - you'd kill a child who saw his equivalent of a playground and so went and played in it because you're worried that he'll, what, tear down all your hard work? You seem like a smart man, Kaz." False. But nothing on Ambrose's face showed that he thought that. "So you can understand that this would all be more trouble than anything. Yes, you get rid of a three foot tall threat, but then you get attention. If you take him out of this building, the police will be called. An Amber Alert will be put out. Hell, if I make enough of a fuss, the X-Men might even get called in." Ambrose leaned forward and put a sympathetic look on his face. "Do you really want to go through all of that trouble? To eliminate a child?"
”Maybe we should leave and come back wearing suits so we fit in with everyone here. What do ya think?” Ambrose could easily hear the man standing right outside of his door, and unfortunately, he didn't like what he heard. Clearly, this man wasn't the sort to take business seriously. The point of suits was - well, that was beside the point. The point was that he could clearly hear the man who'd kidnapped his adoptive son. And that he could clearly hear the annoyed tsk that Madeline made when the man swept past her, not even bothering to, well, bother with etiquette. And then the man burst in through the door, and Ambrose just barely held back from raising an eyebrow in judgement.
The man looked like... well, there wasn't really a better way to phrase it - wait, there was. He'd read somewhere that some people preferred the term "Appalachian-American" to "redneck." So this man looked like an Appalachian-American, to put it succinctly. He definitely hadn't gotten the memo that Panu's adoptive father was the head of a massive business corporation where you were expected to wear a suit and tie if you so much as wanted to step foot in the building. Needless to say, he hadn't made a great first impression, especially with the most absurdly long hair ever, and what came out of his mouth next didn't help.
Ambrose waited. He could be very, very patient, and he was being very patient now as he sat through what was probably the most insulting barrage of words he'd ever heard. It was infuriating, and patronizing, and if he wasn't about to say the sentence he was about to say, he would've killed the man then and there. Unfortunately, he couldn't, because that would make him a hypocrite. He just barely picked up on a sound from outside - "Kaz Corydon," he heard Madeline whisper under her breath, so quietly that no one without Ambrose's superhuman level of hearing would have been able to pick up on it. He didn't know where she'd gotten the name - maybe Panu had informed her, or she'd run his face through a database or something - but she had the name, and now he had the name, and now he was going to be a total asshole because this man literally kidnapped his son. Also, because he could.
"Mr. Corydon," Ambrose began, and then suddenly straightened up in his very comfortable chair, casting the man a knowing look. "Kaz. Can I call you Kaz? Listen, in polite society, we don't threaten to kill minors when there are -" and he gestured vaguely at the camera in the corner of the room "- cameras recording it. That kind of thing leads to a restraining order, and I assure you, as soon as security escorts you out of my building, you will be receiving a notice informing you that I've filed for a restraining order against you on behalf of my son."
Ambrose stood up, stretching his wings out a bit as he did so. He folded his arms behind his back and tucked his wings back, before amiably strolling over to the door. On the way there, he stopped and leaned in closely to Kaz's ear, so what he said next wouldn't be picked up by any of the various recording devices in the room. "You also make the assumption that I control this boy, and I assure you, I do not. But I can also assure you that if you make any attempt to hurt him, you won't just have the full force of the American justice system on your back. He's part of something a little bigger than that." Ambrose leaned back and smiled a horribly empty smile that was devoid of any sincerity whatsoever. He gave Kaz a sharp pat on the shoulder as he continued walking, saying as he smiled, "If I were you, I wouldn't try to get involved in things I don't understand." With that, Ambrose swept past to his office door, which he pushed open.
"Cail!" he called, and the man standing by the elevator turned his attention to Ambrose. "If you could please escort Mr. Corydon out of the building."
They were seated at a big conference table. The Asgard conference room, to be precise. All the other conference rooms were uncomfortable on purpose because at some point, Ambrose had thought it would be funny to have the air conditioning in the Jotunheim room be a little strong, or the lighting in the Alfheim room be a little - well, a lot - brighter than it should be. Svartalfheim was dark and kind of hard to see in (they stopped holding meetings there at some point and stuck with presentations), Muspelheim didn't have any AC but did have a fireplace, Valhalla was the break room, Midgard was so simple that it was literally a wooden table in an empty, wood-paneled room, Vanaheim was covered in so many plants that it was hard to hold a meeting without at least one person constantly sneezing, Nidavellir looked (and felt) like a cave, and Niflheim had an actual fog machine in the corner and was sort of chilly and wet. Asgard was the nicest, and intentionally, with big arching windows that let sun in and a table that put other tables to shame. Technically, since this was a Ragnarok meeting, they'd meet in Muspelheim if they wanted to keep with the theme. But it was a really hot June day, and Ambrose really didn't feel like suffering through a stifling meeting for the sake of theme.
Seated to his left was Madeline Brass. To his right, Panu. Then, to Madeline's left, Cail Rendfur. Everyone else was just a voice from a speaker, and there were six or seven of them arranged around the table. Ambrose liked that. It felt mysterious and very supervillain-y, and - dare he say it - really worked with the theme.
"We are gathered here," Ambrose began, loftily. "Today, on this lovely June afternoon, to discuss the tragic events of Odessa, Texas that happened earlier this day."
"Cut the bullshit, Jaager," someone snapped from a speaker. Ambrose frowned. Well, that was rude. "We know you don't care. Some of us have lives to get back to, so let's get to the point." If Ambrose were Darth Vader, and that man were physically present right now, Ambrose probably would've choked him to death. Fortunately for them both, Ambrose knew that he probably would've, which was why he held Ragnarok meetings like this anyway.
Ambrose cleared his throat. "Well, then. In that case. All of you know that the events in Odessa have forced the hand of the pro-mutant and anti-mutant camps. Now, one of our cause's great missions is to eradicate the species divide. By eliminating those who care about it, we can essentially get rid of it once and for all. Does anyone disagree?"
Nobody spoke. Good. Ambrose idly wondered at what point they'd turned into the Illuminati. It didn't seem like that long ago when he'd been personally recruiting people and their ranks were solidly in the single digits, and now they were sitting in a conference room with members of Ragnarok all across the world.
"This event may have actually moved us more than a few steps closer to our goal," Ambrose stated, as he tapped at the tablet sitting in his lap. As soon as he'd heard the news, Ambrose had asked Panu to run a couple simulations, using social media and news websites to gauge the global response and see how the world might react were Ambrose to do a few select things. The results were... promising, to say the least. He quite liked one of the options, which he'd tentatively titled "UTOPIA."
"Panu?" Ambrose said with a flourish. "The stage is yours."
Well, Ragnarok is presently known to the public, they just haven't really gone into the big leagues yet. There was the nice little Christmas gift bomb thing, but that wasn't exactly global-supervillain-level. So I was thinking that while JW and Ambrose get off scot-free, as they weren't technically involved in the building of Utopia's government, Ragnarok attacks the peace summit in disguise in order to take credit. No identities would be revealed - unless the player wants theirs to be, of course - but the name Ragnarok holds a lot more weight from that point on.
Also, Ragnarok is technically not run by Ambrose, but instead the figure Loki (who technically doesn't exist, but still). I believe that only a few of the high-ranking Ragnarok figures know that Loki isn't real, and they all team up when it comes to being Loki in order to make the public believe that he does exist. In that case, multiple people would technically be masterminding Utopia's government, and at least some of them are NPCs. So I don't think it'd be all of Ragnarok puppeteering the NPC politician - at some point, Ragnarok apparently grew really, really large and Illuminati-like, so that'd be confusing for him to get orders from so many different people - but instead the collective mass of people who act as Loki, and whom Ambrose Jaager is only one of. (Members of that collective include Panu, who OOC and IC stepped in as leader of Ragnarok when I was away, and the NPCs Madeline Brass and Cail Rendfur.) So the puppet would believe that he's getting direct orders from Loki, but would instead be getting orders from any one of the group under the guise of Loki. I think my role is to just post a solo thread for Ambrose's proposal of Utopia, where he announces his intentions to fund it and all, and then everything else doesn't need to directly involve Ambrose himself. The JW stuff can probably be pushed off onto one of the JW NPCs. actually - probably Cail Rendfur, who will be "promoted" to Head of Utopia Arrangements or something and will thus serve as the anyone-can-control face of JW's involvement from that point on.
Posted by Ambrose Jaager on Jun 21, 2016 22:52:50 GMT -6
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Sounds good! May I suggest, though, that Ragnarok attacks the peace summit? Otherwise, Ragnarok is never revealed to the public as the group behind the whole Utopia disaster, and it really should be.
Posted by Ambrose Jaager on Jun 21, 2016 20:53:54 GMT -6
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So Ragnarok is actually due for a mission sometime soon. If you want, we could carry out that mission during the Sanc open house (minimal chaos, of course, because we can be stealthy sometimes), so Ragnarok gets to scope it out and Tempest gets to learn about who he's up against. Or, if you'd rather have the open house be an "open to everyone" sort of thing, we could do a different mission where Ragnarok either low-key or very high-key announces its intentions to shut Sanc down.
I've also been wanting to get Kirsi into Sanc for a while, but it's never really been active enough until now. If you're up for it, I'd love to do a thread involving her joining Sanctuary, either as a Ragnarok spy or as a little kid who legitimately needs a place to crash.
Posted by Ambrose Jaager on Jun 21, 2016 20:21:03 GMT -6
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Ambrose frowned. His hearing was good enough to pick up on Astrid's heightened heart rate, and he really didn't want her to have a stroke or something in midair. That was too much trouble for everybody. But she seemed excited, at least. That was good. He was getting the feeling that maybe he shouldn't have been so nice, because now it looked like she'd be stuck to him until he could politely shake her off.
"Jabberwocky," the girl said, and Ambrose tried very hard not to cringe. Okay, she was not of this country, or of any English-speaking country. He couldn't tell exactly what her accent was - French, maybe? - but it sounded vaguely European. And if she was from France, the last time he'd spoken French was in college, so he highly doubted he could help her out in her native language there. "I am Astrid. No, Valkyrie." Well, she'd covered that up quickly. He was getting the feeling that she wanted very badly to be - and pardon his metaphorical French - a badass, and a villainous one at that. Valkyrie certainly sounded more intimidating than Astrid. Ambrose couldn't help but think that if he did manage to recruit her, she was halfway to being a Ragnarök member already, with her name following Ragnarök's own codename conventions.
Ambrose turned his focus back to the landscape below them as she did as well. The city really was quite nice when you looked at it from far enough away, because then you couldn't see the filth it held. Yes, he technically couldn't see more than monochromatic outlines of buildings, with all the lights showing up as blurry bright spots, but it was actually rather nicely abstract like this.
"Where we going?" Valkyrie asked, finally. He was wondering when she'd get around to asking that. If he were a young foreign mutant, he wouldn't be following strange dragon-men at night to who knows where, but to each their own. To be honest, Ambrose didn't really know where they were going either. He was more of a "live in the moment" sort of person, so when they'd had to leave, he'd initially thought about heading to the warehouses by the Hudson to chat. But perhaps that would be a bit... sketchy.
"Well, where would you like to go?" Ambrose asked, lazily flapping once or twice so he could stay aloft. "It's not that late. And most of the police will be at the courthouse, so we have the city to ourselves for now."
Posted by Ambrose Jaager on Jun 20, 2016 23:50:59 GMT -6
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Dec 17, 2016 13:23:40 GMT -6
Presently, there aren't any particularly active Order members, so I'm very much on board with the idea of a Sanctuary revival. I think Aura was/is in charge, but I haven't seen her around for a while, so I think the Order is primarily inactive for now. I'm also assuming that by "revive Sanctuary," you also mean "revive the Order" (correct me if I'm wrong), which I would definitely like. Ragnarok hasn't had quite enough opposition lately, and the Order could definitely provide that. I think Ragarok actually attacked the Sanctuary at some point, by siccing META bots on it then invading in person, so there'd be some bad blood there.
As for my specific characters - if you're looking for someone to provide opposition to Tempest, and possibly a very aggressive "cease and desist," Ambrose is here. Even if you're only reviving the actual sanctuary part of Sanctuary, Ambrose would probably be very much against it because it paves the way for an Order revival, which he wouldn't want. There's also an Order spy in Ragnarok - Isabel Duskmoor - which may or may not be relevant, but it seems important to mention. Kirsi, meanwhile, might actually join Sanctuary. If you're looking for a slightly psycho middle schooler to help out, she's available, but she'd be a Ragnarok spy because her loyalties lie first and foremost with who pays her, and that's Panu.
Posted by Ambrose Jaager on Jun 20, 2016 23:41:24 GMT -6
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I'm going to be travelling abroad to a place with notoriously bad internet, so I don't know how good my connection will be. I'll try to post whenever possible, though, but I might be relegated to only necessary (Utopia, sorry everyone else) threads while I'm there.
Ambrose stared at Noel, absolutely bemused as to how to respond. Was this a weird sex thing? It could be a weird sex thing. Or it could just be a weird thing, licking every gun she got. It couldn't possibly be sanitary. No, he was confident that it wasn't sanitary. It was possible that this was part of her mutation, but as far as he was concerned, her mutation was about memories. He'd met a mutant once who'd been able to read memories through objects - he'd forgotten the name, but the man had threatened Panu's safety, which was why he'd remembered - and this might be similar, but taste had to be the absolutely most unsanitary method of doing so. He'd been perfectly ready to go out there and destroy all those pesky terrorists, too. How, he didn't know, but he was sure he would've figured it out eventually.
Then Noel started to speak, and Ambrose silently and internally "oh-ed" with realization. So she had been checking the memories. And, as it turned out, she'd gotten the useful ones too. Politically motivated and aiming for execution meant they were dealing with fanatics, probably - in other words, they wouldn't flee or surrender. Their aiming for the highest possible body count did nothing to go against that idea. But the information about them wanting to set up video before executing was good. In fact, it was incredibly useful. They could use that.
One van full. That was... incredibly vague, considering that could be anywhere from nine to thirteen, like she'd said, give or take three men. And six enemies were very different from sixteen. Oh well. He'd just assume thirteen enemies, in case there were that many. Overestimating was always better than underestimating.
He glanced back at Noel, about to give his two cents on his situation, before stopping as he realized that her gaze was strangely blank. It shifted back into focus after a moment - probably her power in use, then, especially since she immediately proceeded to handle the weapon like someone who'd been instructed, but without the smoothness of experience. "I'll cover you from up high."
Yes. That seemed... tactically sound, no matter what. So he'd just decide on his actions. After learning what the now-dead man had known, he figured he had two options - stealth mode it, or pretend to be a dumb tourist so he could get all the soldiers in one place, then take them down there when he knew where every one of them was. Stealth mode was great in theory, but there was the small issue of his inability to sense every single possible enemy simultaneously. If he could get a group of them together, he could probably smell them out and count the number of hostiles based on the number of different scents, but that was near-impossible with just one or two downed enemies. Just in case, he nodded at Noel to indicate his acknowledgement before kneeling down and sniffing the corpse's vest. Hey, she'd just licked the man's gun - sniffing the dead body was substantially less gross, so she couldn't judge. As expected, he couldn't differentiate much because the scents were mixing. So decoy it was.
He stood up again, and turned to Noel. "I'm going to pretend to be a stupid tourist," he said quietly to her. "If what this guy knows is true, they'll want to get me in front of cameras and everything. Once I'm there, I'll need you to cover me so we can take them all out while they're in one spot. It'll be too difficult to get them all while they're split up, and if I try to trim their numbers now, they could figure out that we're a legitimate threat and shoot me before I get to do anything." And if there was one thing Ambrose had in mind, first and foremost, it was self-preservation. To be frank, this little crusade to destroy the terrorists wasn't done out of any sort of empathy. It was mainly because Ambrose had been awkward and uncomfortable and he'd much rather be tearing out throats than having brunch. He supposed Panu wouldn't be too happy that they'd gone so far off track, but this was teamwork. That had to count for something.
Ambrose glanced around, really focusing more on his nose and ears than his eyes to check for hostiles, but the sea breeze wasn't really working in his favor. It might've with brunch, but not when planning calculated mass murder. Wait - it wasn't called mass murder when there were bad guys, was it. Mass liberation, perhaps? He'd figure out how to word the inevitable police statement later. He would check with Noel to make sure she was on board with this plan, and then he'd head out.
"Got it?" he murmured, as he got ready with his best "angry entitled rich man" impression. He'd even deliberately injure himself to look even more victimized if it weren't for the fact that he didn't want to immediately reveal his mutation, because it might label him as a bigger threat than he wanted to be perceived as.
I'm on board with this. I'm presently abroad visiting family, but just let me know when you need me and I'll be around to do it. For the NPC politician, though - who's in charge of creating him/her, or should I just roll with whatever when "making arrangements" for Utopia IC?
Posted by Ambrose Jaager on Jun 12, 2016 14:57:42 GMT -6
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Dec 17, 2016 13:23:40 GMT -6
Ambrose glanced back at some point to make sure the girl was still keeping up with him, and she was. She certainly seemed enamored with his brand of villainy. That was good. He could work with that. It was much simpler to get those who were obsessed with you to obey you than it was to get a random, generic underling to do so. She seemed young, too, which was even better. All sorts of scenarios were running through his mind - convincing her to spy at the X-Mansion for him, getting her to take the fall for something for Ragnarök, and so on and so forth. She was a perfect scapegoat. Not that she had to know that, though - Ambrose was sure that if he just complimented her some more, then she'd literally attack the President and tell everyone that her pet chipmunk made her do it to if he wanted.
He could tell that her flying was lopsided, and he'd make an educated guess and say that it was because of the projectiles she'd fired earlier. But her hanging back seemed intentional. Well, he didn't want her to feel excluded - maybe they'd take a few laps around the city before landing. Ambrose had yet to meet another winged mutant, after all, so he might as well take advantage of having the ability to have a midair conversation.
Ambrose slowed down a bit until he was no longer moving, only flapping his great wings to stay aloft, making it clear that he wanted her to catch up. Once she had, he started flying again, but a little bit slower to accommodate for her newly weakened flying ability. "Jabberwocky," he said after a moment, by ways of greeting. "You may know me as Jörmungandr, if you watch the news. I serve Loki of Ragnarök." If he'd had arms, he would've patted himself on the back right then and there for those flawless name drops. If she knew of them, she'd probably be even more impressed. If she didn't, then he got the chance to explain and snatch her up before some pesky faction like the X-Men or Order got to her first. Her powers were solid but she needed quite a bit of work before she could really be useful in combat, and he'd much rather she try and affiliate herself with Ragnarök in the meantime.
Posted by Ambrose Jaager on Jun 12, 2016 14:40:04 GMT -6
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Dec 17, 2016 13:23:40 GMT -6
The two guards stationed a little ways away from Ambrose's little cell weren't particularly smart. They were skilled, yes, at what they did - in this case, shooting whatever they were told to shoot - but they didn't really do much else. Their mission in this case, however, was clear. They were supposed to guard the giant dragon and make sure that no one unauthorized tried to pay him a visit, although they really, really doubted that anyone would. It was a giant dragon. No, it hadn't been in the job description, and yes, they would rather be doing literally anything else because it was a giant dragon. But their job was to guard it, and they were getting paid for that, so they would guard the dragon.
Unfortunately, because they were severely lacking when it came to making decisions for themselves, they started firing at the figure turning the corner as soon as it spoke.
Even more unfortunately, the person they had fired upon was not the X-Man known as Cold Steel, but rather a fellow guard who'd neglected to notify them of his arrival in advance. He went down in a hail of bullets, and the two guards were sufficiently distracted to not even notice when a man coated in ice made his own appearance down the opposite end of the tunnel at almost the exact same time.
In his cell, Ambrose's head shot up at the sounds outside. He couldn't see much, the warm water dripping down the sides of the tunnels clouding his vision of anything past the tunnel immediately outside of his cell door. But where he'd previously been able to see a man who looked like he most certainly wasn't alive, he could now see a man who was most certainly an ice sculpture. The figure was so cold that it showed up as pitch black on Ambrose's vision, which was outright impossible, and especially through all of this water everywhere. Ambrose growled. Not being able to do anything was frustrating. While it would certainly bash his ego to have someone save him, he would really, really like something to burst him out right about now, because he liked being trapped even less.
