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.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 25, 2010 17:07:47 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
Twyla's breathing slowed down almost as quickly as it had sped up, the anger that had flared up was now reduced to an almost pleasant simmer that may or may not have been more from the physical contact than from any frustrations felt by the blond girl. She listened to Maya agree with her and saw the smile on her face--smirking slightly when 'staying awake' was mentioned. Despite any reasons to smirk because of that statement she was probably right if the other girl's body was humming nearly as much as Twyla's was.
Being close to the Morris kid tended to wire the youngest Ashby girl up in a big way.
Maya sat back on the bed and pulled at the blonde's hand, pulling her down towards the mattress. The hiss was noted and brown eyes dried so they could be filled with momentary worry. Twyla smiled when she was tugged onto the bed with a "C'mere, Bubblegum.", the worry being momentarily pushed aside to make room for enjoying the nickname and the way that it felt for her hand to be touching her girlfriend's face.
After some adjusting the question asked was answered. "Yeah..." A small laugh as she wiggled her hand out of the other girl's to smooth a lock off dark hair off of Maya's forehead. "I just cry when I'm angry, so don't worry about it if you were concerned." An eye roll and a goofy-awkward smile. "I was just really...I don't even know....That used to totally freak Nate out when we argued--he always thought he'd made me cry and then he'd go nuts and apologize." Another small laugh and Twyla's hand came down to find Maya's again. "Your reaction is a bit more--" She looked her straight in the face with a playful twist to her lips. "creative." The fact that it would be epically wrong for Nate to do something like that was left unsaid as it was glaringly obvious...
and Twyla didn't want to ruin whatever kind of playful that comment was by covering all the creeper bases in a much too long response--Maya would get it, she was a smart girl.
"So how bad was your shoulder before that guy popped it back in or whatever?" The back burner hiss had come to front and center as you could only block those thoughts from Twyla Ashby for so long, she was consistent like that.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 25, 2010 13:42:15 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
Crying was pretty much a full body experience and Twyla was rapidly deciding that it pretty much sucked--especially when you were trying really hard to pretend that you weren't. Her breathing made her shoulders and chest shake and the breathing itself was wild and sporadic. She tried to keep the gasping and sputtering sounds to a minimum but that was a job in itself and when your tear ducts were already commissioning the rest of your body to unload a whole wall of emotional...saltiness it was really hard to focus on being silent.
Did Twyla mention that she hated to cry? Absolutely, positively, hated it and the fact that she was crying with Maya in the room made the whole thing worse. This of course, made her cry harder. It was rapidly turning into a vicious, angry cycle.
Turning. What? Confusion. The girl was a bit dizzy for a moment and during that dizziness she noted that she was being held in place by someone else. Maya. What? More confusion.
Kissing.
She was crying and Maya was kissing her.
... ... ... ... ...
There were worse reactions, she decided after a moment. At first confusion made her stiff and then instinct won out. Eyes that were still dripping with tears closed and her mouth started to react on its own. This was a different dynamic than any of their other...moments. This one was angry and disconcerting (in a lack of meshing way) and very off and rough and even though the blond knew that her girlfriend was a little beat up already she pressed herself closer to her in a violent gesture, losing what space was between them. She wanted to get the jealous feelings out of her system, prove to herself and to Maya that there was no reason to be talking to other girls for any non-innocent reasons. Her hair was pulled out of the braid she'd fixed on the walk to her room but Twyla barely noticed as she forced her lips against Maya's, catching a shuddering breath when the other girl pulled away and kissed her cheeks.
It was a violent moment and an angry one and the blonde's body didn't really want it to end. Her mind, however, turned itself back into 'normal' mode when she took that shuddering breath. This is...we shouldn't be... After a few long moments of scrabbling for as much rough affection as possible before pulling away and taking a shaky step back. Wetness was rapidly drying on her cheeks but her breath was still a little crazy and gasping as she tried to speak. "That's probably..." Some breaths that sounded out of breath and like she'd been crying at the same time were choked out between the words. "not good for....a...concussion." She wiped at her eyes (which were closed down to a leaking at this point) as she looked at Maya. Her cheeks were warm from her own heat and the tears.
And then something else occurred to her--that kind of kissing had felt like arguing. Were they arguing?
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 24, 2010 17:07:54 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
Maya looked confused and Twyla attributed this to the fact that she was as eloquent as...as...as something that was ridiculously not eloquent. Or maybe it was because she wasn't making sense in her logic at all--Oh great, now you're totally the crazy girlfriend, way to go. This self jibbing didn't do much for the blonde's mood (which had already been hindered by the big green monster and her own internal struggling from a few moments ago). It was late, she was tired, she was angry...
Whoa...Twyla Ashby was angry.
She was angry. Angry at the fact that she couldn't sleep, angry at the fact that she'd rushed to her girlfriend in the middle of the night to find her sitting on a hospital cot with a concussion, angry that the world had hurt her again, angry that she'd been with another girl, angry with the fact that she was such a spazz, angry that she couldn't just be honest about being angry because she was a girl, really really angry that she seemed to have totally messed up her conversation with Maya, and most of all angry that she was angry at all and that it was becoming increasingly obvious.
It was enough to make one scream.
When Maya looked away the blond stood up abruptly and looked away too, clenching her fists at her sides so hard that she swore she could almost feel the crescent shaped indents of her nails in her palms. When the other girl spoke the clenching increased and...
Oh no, oh no no no.
There were two different types of Twyla anger--the righteous fury kind and the blubbering 'I might be crazy but really I just don't handle things well' kind. The latter kind came with tears. Twyla hated to cry--especially in front of other people. Dammit. Please, please no no no no.
They were welling up as Maya continued to talk, making it much easier to stare at a spot on the wall instead of behind her at the other girl. Add almost crying to her List of Anger. "No, what's stupid is that I'm apparently this insecure bitch who--" She she yelled--down her cheeks, warm liquid. Not good. Not good. Cue a few heaving breaths that were attempted to be muffled, making sputtering noises in their wake. "Who can't even talk b..b...b..because..."
Because why, you ask?
"Because she'd a big d.d.d.d...dumb d.d.d......d.d..dumby head." And this was why Twyla never got in verbal spars with anyone, she was bad at comebacks--even against herself.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 24, 2010 16:16:19 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
The gum was back in her ears--or was that blood? Something was pounding in the girl's head and she couldn't decide if it was the steady rhythm of her breathing or her heart...probably her heart--her breathing was slowing and speeding up in crazy increments as she tried to find a sense of control over herself. It was nothing, you're totally...well...maybe...maybe it was totally...maybe not. The comforting voice knew itself too well and could form no logical argument against the sudden strong emotion rippling off of Twyla like waves.
If I were stopping to talk to someone because they were dancing I'd probably only do it if they were--no, that's crazy and totally uncool. No...Gawain wouldn't do that. You're just being...paranoid.
Maya had apparently caught on the sudden change in atmosphere of the room because she was grasping for an explanation. Oh I'll tell you what's--better not... The internal Girl Code told Twyla that it was not very nice or feminine or nurturing to come out and explain what she was thinking. Ladies, after all, did not feel such silly emotions as jealousy (it was obvious to her now that she was jealous, of a psychopath no less) as they were much too understanding and caring to be distrustful. Anger was not something you were allowed to feel out in the open either, everything had to be done secretly and in good taste so no one would get hurt.
Twyla wrestled with her inner lady, attempting to pin her down so she could be up front with her girlfriend. They grappled and slapped and scratched for a long moment and then Twyla mussed up the lady's hair with a noogie that would have made Nate proud--sending her flying to the bathroom in a dignified huff.
She'd be honest, she'd just have to do it as nicely as possible...
Blinking was done after Maya apologized for something that had already been pushed to the back of the blonde's mind. Turning back to the other girl she tried to summon the kindest Twyla voice possible--what came out...was interesting. "No, it's not that...I mean, it's not just that. I'm getting used to the worry, kinda...it's just...something you said" (selective hearing!) "um...you met that girl when she was...and you talked and...why did she catch your attention?"
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 24, 2010 15:34:33 GMT -6
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No worries, Maya just didn't want her approaching a psychopath--that's totally legitimate. No worries, none at all. The looking away was a little strange and so was the lip biting...but she did have a concussion after all. Her eyebrows wrinkling again, the blond sat down at the edge of her bed, her eyes not leaving her girlfriend. Twyla felt weird again and she hoped that it was just because it was late and Maya had a concussion...
A hand crept across the comforter to snag one of Maya's, just in case it wasn't because it was late and the dark haired girl had a concussion, just in case.
Okay, now normally Twyla didn't imagine herself as being an overly clingy person. There had been times she'd...clung to her significant other but those were after very traumatic experiences. Jealous people were clingy, in her mind and she figured they just didn't have enough trust in their relationships. This was not so traumatic but for some reason the idea that her (at the time) boyfriend had been walking around New York City and had stopped to talk with a female that was dancing (the mutation part was conveniently forgotten) irked her and the blond bristled up. Am I jealous? What the heck?The green monster that had appeared earlier had its hands on its hips and had a smug look on its face--it knew what was what.
Or at least it thought it did...
Jealousy apparently has a tendency of gumming up ones ears because soon Twyla's hearing became very selective. "She was friendly...she has a thing...for mutations...show me some moves...she calls it dancing..." All the while a controlled look was plastered on the girl's face. Her mouth was tight and as she listened to Maya explain her afternoon she felt herself get more and more agitated...it was really weird. She'd never felt like that before--she wanted to punch someone but she couldn't decide who and part of her started to feel really crummy and another part was screaming for some kind of display of affection towards Maya. It was all very confusing.
She was clenching Maya's hand. Then it was dropped. "Sorry." Barely audible and through tight lips.
The last bit was heard with more clarity--it was hard to twist violence from outside sources to fit a crazy theory (it was not crazy, argued the green monster). "She just killed him...?" Twyla could tell her tone was off--it wasn't emotional enough...or maybe it was too emotional? Either way it was off, she was off, everything was off.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 23, 2010 14:47:15 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
The hug lasted for a while, neither girl said anything. The urge for tears had passed now and all Twyla's attention was focused on the moment and breathing and Maya's arm around her. They were alright, it had been silly to freak out--she was just tired was all. Normal. Everything was fine besides the concussion and her girlfriend being slightly banged up. No worries, just a bad day was all. Everything was--
Huh? Promises? What? When Maya pulled back she looked down at her from her standing position, trying to read the expression on her face. Why would she want to fight the girl with the pink aura? Maya and Twyla both knew what kind of person Twyla was--this didn't make any sense, unless...
And now for some paranoia...It was late, she thought gender shifters were aliens when it got this late. So sure her.
The green monster that had been skulking back to wherever it was kept turned on heel and crossed its arms over its chest. Paranoid, maybe. But it was just being careful, right? With her squishy parts. Protecting them from anything they weren't prepared for like girlfriends meeting with psychopaths and...
No, she refused to think like that. I am not that kind of girlfriend...I hope. Honestly, Twyla didn't really know what kind of girlfriend she was and her experience was so far limited.
Her brows were wrinkled and Twyla tensed up, cocking her head to the side. "Why would I want to fight her?" I'm not exactly that kind of girl... And because she trusted Maya she continued with: "I promise."
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 23, 2010 12:53:00 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
Twyla pulled her legs in, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin a top her knees. It felt safer that way since earlier her soft parts had felt a bit exposed with nothing between them and the open air of her room. Not that there was anything dangerous in the girl's bedroom but it was a reflex, a subconscious need to consolidate and protect. She didn't even really notice that she moved at all, just looked at Maya from her spot near the door. It was kind of strange, viewing her room from this angle--everything looked a lot messier from a low vantage point that it did from her bed. It still didn't bother her that someone else was seeing her room in the state it was in. part of her that wasn't attached to the situation wondered if she should be at least a little bit embarrassed...
Maya started talking, and the girl on the floor straightened up her back that was pressed to the smooth wood of the door. She was looking for her mother? Insta-guilt erupted in Twyla's tummy and its acidic properties attempted to destroy the walls of her stomach. That made her feel like an epic douche-bag, being all insensitive-like. Here she was giving a the mini version of a cold shoulder as they walked to her room and she had been in the city looking for her mom and not a few of the other things that the green monster growing in the back of Twyla's mind had suggested. Cheeks tinted pink and her chin was buried deeper into her knees. "Oh." Was all the girl managed to say as she stared at the carpeting and her feet, which had started masking themselves as soon as the guilt kicked in.
The both sat there in silence for a moment and then her girlfriend continued. Cthulhu? Of course she remembered that moment...Running, panic that Gawain was getting attacked by a supposed ally, a tentacle, more panic, landing on Henri, getting...Alright, focus. A lot happened after that moment, she just needed to focus on the Juka/Gawain memory. That's the girl she me? Looking back up, Twyla blinked. She was confused. "You meet the psychopath that messed with Juka or whatever and you didn't get hurt until some random anti-mutant guys showed up?" She tried to keep her tone curious but it came out a little more incredulous that the blond intended. That was crazy...Gawain had been lucky...
A second after she spoke the girl was up and across the room to the bed which she leaned over so she could give Maya a modified hug. Despite knowing that the other girl was hurt, the blonde's arms were fierce as they wrapped around their girlfriend. "Oh my gosh, you're so lucky. I'm so glad she didn't hurt you." The urge for tears was back, but these were a happier kind and they showed a bit in her voice as she spoke into Maya's hair.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 23, 2010 9:56:38 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
Maya sat on the bed, they just sort of looked at each other for a moment with Twyla looking away first. She was tired and with that tiredness came increased emotional sensitivity. The brown eyes looked away because they were about to brim with something warm and wet. Omg, you're such a spazz. The blond leaned against the door again and slid down it, sitting on the floor with her legs extended in front of her.
She was about to grasp for some normal conversation when she was surprised by Maya's response.
'Ask away'? How convenient, part of her noted. The rest of her deiced it would be best to not totally freak out--she still didn't know why she had the urge to freak out. Honesty was the best policy in this situation...hopefully. "I feel like I'm over-reacting about something and i don't even know why..." A bit of mostly normal laughter escaped her lips, lighting up her face and even reaching her tired eyes. Take that warm, salty, wetness. Take that. There is nothing more powerful than laughter. "I think I'm just tired..."
Serious was back now, ready to check and see if it was really just that Twyla was tired and not because of Something Else. "So...care to elaborate on what you did today?" Her tone was normal and curious, which wasn't hard to fake seeing as she was curious. Maybe giving the other girl the option of replying in the negatory was not very useful in the end, but if she was just overreacting she didn't want to seem like a crazy person more than she seemed to with her girlfriend.
"My day was boring. I watched a little-kid movie with some of the younger kids and worked on homework all day..." Pretending things were normal, good plan, good plan.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 23, 2010 9:43:31 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
It was probably a good thing that he caught the thrown glove--Twyla half regretted it a moment later, although there was a strong part of her that was slightly disappointed that there was no satisfying glove-to-body-smack. Of course he would catch it, there hadn't been anything sneaky whatsoever in the chucking since it was a purely instinctual action that had been only halfway thought through. It had looked like maybe it would hit him, but it never was going to. She shouldn't be disappointed since it had no real chance anyway...but still...
Twyla resisted the urge to roll her eyes at what she assumed was some sarcasm on the part of the Mansion teacher. Instead she just watched him, trying to make her expression as neutral as possible, waiting for his answer to her question. When he finally gave it...A slow blink and then another. Really? You've got to be-- At first some of the left over anger surged up again but then it was replaced by a much more moderate feeling. That's good. Good. No worries then. Relief hesitantly wrapped itself around the girl. Everything was going to be okay so long as she wasn't responsible for making Gawain's life any harder. The fact that she had believed him though...that was a bit embarrassing, so the girl's cheeks tinged a bit pink as the tension went out of her shoulders.
The glove was picked up from the ground and brought over to the blond girl. She took it when it was offered, now both gloves were hanging from their respective hands at her sides. Her balance was restored. He was trying to push her? That made sense, what he was saying made sense and the girl found herself mulling the words over--they were reminding her of late night conversations. She'd told Maya she'd be better one day...figured out the importance of balance with Em...things were starting to pile on each other, moving things around and making them click.
Then he was apologizing. "Don't be sorry--you were right." That probably was one of the only ways to get Twyla that motivated and if he hadn't used such a tactic she probably would have meekly attempted to follow his instructions, getting embarrassed and flustered maybe but probably not driven enough to go for it. The girl looked away as she came to that conclusion and then she shook her head. "I wouldn't have been able to do that if I was just doing it for me." Not that she had done much, but it was about small victories.
A question was directed at Twyla and she looked back at Sam. "I don't know...maybe. Right now I probably wouldn't, but I'm feeling more solid right now." Solid was a good word for it. A lip was bitten as things in the back of her mind continued to piece themselves together. "I want to be better at that--standing my ground I mean but I need to remember why I want to stand my ground..." Whoops, she didn't mean to say that out loud--she hadn't realized she'd been verbalizing her thoughts. "Sorry, just thinking..." Her cheeks tinged a darker pink.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 22, 2010 16:37:39 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
After they walked out of the Infirmary and into Twyla's messy room (she hadn't asked, just sort of led the way--it was where she needed to be at the moment) the blond didn't say a word and she barely even looked at her girlfriend as they silently climbed the stairs and she closed her door behind them. The girl wasn't sure what to think and since she wasn't sure if she felt like screaming or crying she had deemed it best that she pretty much ignored the object of her conflicted emotions, namely Maya.
Her face revealed nothing--her eyes were faraway and her mouth was pulled in a neutral line. The only thing in her manner that betrayed any emotion was the briskness in her walk and the quick movements of her hands when they had unlocked the door to her bedroom and turned on the light. A blond head of hair rested on the closed door for a moment after the girls entered. There was a small sigh the emitted from Twyla's slightly chapped lips (biting her lips made them crack sometimes).
This was decidedly a different scenario than their last late night...conversation. Twyla was tired but she was trying her best to keep it hidden from her face--she had a job to do and that was to keep Maya awake until it was safer to let her sleep. The girl wanted to ask about what really happened earlier that day but it seemed abrupt to just start an interrogation after she'd been given a brief explanation. It wasn't that she didn't believe Maya, it was just that it had seemed too simple--she wasn't lying so much as omitting the truth. Maybe. This was the main source for Twyla's emotional confusion.
That and there was a big green monster growing in the back of her mind that hadn't been there before...
Saying that you were 'wandering around' when you met a girl wasn't comforting, at least not to Twyla. She really wanted to know what kind of wandering had been going on so she could determine whether she was paranoid (and possibly the jealous type, a strange thought) or if there was something else going on that she needed to be concerned with.
But she wasn't going to just up and ask. Not in a million years.
"So, we need to keep you awake." A statement rather than a question. Smooth, so very smooth.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 22, 2010 16:00:15 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
Emerald laughed when Twyla fell but that was fine, Twyla had laughed as well. It was so like her--when she paid attention she could make her movements graceful and calculated like she did in dance and gymnastics but as soon as she let her guard down...well, that was an obvious cause effect relationship. It was good that she was laughing, that they were laughing. Very good.
Nightmares? What did nightmares have on clumsiness and laughing and friends and ice cream? Not much.
Both girls seemed to be in better moods than they had started in the kitchen as they walked out into the hall. Twyla smiled with the wolf girl explained that she could go to her at night if she was tweaking after a nightmare. "Thanks, Em." A one armed hug as they walked towards the stairs that led to the girl's hall. "Same for you, okay? I'm a light sleeper." When I get the chance to sleep. She meant was she said too, there were worse things she could be woken up for and things that were much less worthy than helping a friend calm down or talking or whatever that she could be doing in the late/early hours.
The blond hoped that when she got back under her camouflage comforter that she could sleep. It felt like she was about to pass out but that was no promise as far as Twyla was concerned. With her luck she'd end up wired or something as soon as the lights came off...well, as soon as the main light went off (after a nightmare it was best to keep her lamp on, it made her feel safer). The stairs were climbed and the girl's hall was walked down. Twyla's bare feet made hardly any noise as they padded across the carpeting. When they reached Em's door she stopped and in a hushed tone said: "Well, night Emmy. It's all about balance..." She muttered, remembering her epiphany from earlier. "So what if we have nightmares? That just means we have to outweigh them with super-awesome things when we're awake, right?" She smiled and it was a normal one, bright and happy.
Turning, Twyla walked a few paces and then looked back at the wolf girl. "See you in a few hours." A small giggle and then the girl was softly making her way to door number two and a certain messy room and unmade bed.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 21, 2010 16:01:01 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
"Nice to meet you too." I wish it was under different circumstances. Oh well, in the end what was the difference between running into someone randomly and running into the Infirmary and meeting someone? Well...it was a different thing entirely but the girl figured that this wouldn't be the last time she'd run into someone this way--no use holding grudges against the Infirmary assistants when it was her girlfriend who was the one getting into the trouble.
Garret didn't tell her anything--probably a good thing for him but it was still disappointing for Twyla. "Alright, sounds good." She said in a slightly cheery tone anyway, again, it wasn't his fault that she'd come running down the stairs in a state of panic. That was probably mostly her own fault, she really needed to work on not getting in a preemptive tizzy over things.
When the man left Twyla looked at Maya, a less glaring expression on her face--she looked a little tired and mostly calm as if she were ready to listen. She was ready to listen, after all. The other girl was blushing and blotchy and it, as always, was weird to see on her. The blonde's face didn't change much as she listened, she was focused on processing more than what her emotions at that moment were. For some reason she got the sneaking suspicion there was more to it--it was much too simple and several things had been omitted. "Alright." She replied with a sigh, her tone neutral. "I'm glad you got away--" Hands waved a bit. "Like this instead of worse." Her brows furrowed. The girl wasn't sure if she was supposed to ask about it all later or if it would be better to let Maya explain what she wanted to explain until she was ready to tell her everything.
When Garrett came back to where they were Twyla still hadn't decided. She was curious, very curious, but at the same time...maybe she'd try being pushy in a while, if Maya didn't tell her the full story once they were alone. A release form was handed to her and Twyla signed it with her scratchy handwriting. The hand holding the pen was shaking slightly but the horrible penmanship wouldn't have been better if it hadn't--the only letters that could be taken from the scratches were a rough T and a sharp A, Twyla's handwriting was not curly-girly handwriting and it never had been. "Alright, thank you. How long does she need to stay awake?" That was all she needed to know and then the pair could be on their way.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 19, 2010 13:20:32 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
Twyla crossed her arms at 'nothing', straightened up at 'I'm fine', and positively glared at 'I'll live'. A glare. An amber-eyed glare that could have shaken the foundations of a mountain was directed at the girl on the bed. Usually the blond didn't make her anger so obvious (it had fought for face space earlier) but she'd lost what little composure she'd had at the words 'I'm fine'. Those were the worst words in the English language when paired together--they were meaningless and she was sick of hearing them...especially form a certain special someone.
Like a light, the glare was out in a moment and replaced by a polite smile that covered up everything but her eyes in a mask of normalcy and moderate feelings. Her large brown eyes betrayed her, flitting from the man that had approached her to Maya in a nervous and worried gesture. Luckily, the urge to bite her lip was suppressed. The man's name was Garrett but she wasn't sure if she was supposed to call him that or Mr. Wills. He seemed calm but if she hadn't known what contusions and abrasions were the word 'nasty' would have sent her worrying into overdrive. Twyla lost all eye contact with the assistant as she searched her girlfriend for bumps and scrapes. Is it bad if I can say I've seen worse? Probably, definitely. Try very bad.
The girl tensed again at the word fine. Maybe fine was a terrible word and the culprit of all of her lack of comfort in the situation. It was attached to too many things and bad memories. "I'm bleeding under my shirt--I'm fine." "You might have broken my ribs--I'm fine." "My parents totally ditched me for Christmas--I'm fine." "She has a concussion--she's fine." Some of them were outright lies and some of them seemed to play the situation down to much too simple levels.
Oh she'll be staying awake, she's got some explaining to do. Lip biting was finally done when Twyla looked back to Mr. Garrett Wills the Infirmary assistant after taking in Maya's visible injuries. "I'm Twyla Ashby, Maya's girlfriend." She didn't hesitate anymore when she said it aloud to people--they were normal for themselves, just like any other couple at the Mansion. "Did she tell you how she managed to get banged up this time?" Her tone was as polite as the smile had been, if mildly sarcastic. No more looking was done at the other girl, she was ignoring her until she got what she could out of the man. I don't even know if I want to know at this point... Shoulders drooped just a tad as the tiredness finally caught up with them from the library.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on May 18, 2010 14:16:02 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
"Um, Twyla, I think I saw your girlfriend in the Infirmary." The girl with owl eyes was one of the few people that frequented the library as much as Twyla so late in the evening. It was Sometime Past Midnight and the blond had been finishing some homework that wasn't due for another week as she found that nightmares came less when she was dog tired when she finally went to sleep. Before the blond could say anything in reply the owl-eyed girl was gone, off ghosting somewhere else in the Mansion like she so often seemed to do at night.
A familiar sensation erupted in the girl's entire body like yeast. Panic. Electric and quick panic. Without thinking, Twyla threw off the blanket she'd been wearing over her shorts and in a moment she was running down the hall and towards the stairs. That Maya might not have been in the infirmary didn't cross her mind. She hadn't seen her (him, as it was a Gawain day) all day since he'd gone off in the city alone and it took less time for the Morris kid to get him/herself into major trouble. How bad is it this time? Was all that she could think as she ran through the school.
Twyla skidded to a halt in front of the door, looking like a wild woman with her shower damp hair frizzing out of her braid. The shirt with the ripped collar she'd been ready to wear to bed had slipped down her shoulder and her shorts were a bit too short for anything but pajamas. None of this occurred to the girl as she tore into the Infirmary, brown eyes scanning the space quickly until she saw a familiar head of hair and an unfamiliar male figure.
"What did you do?" Anger and worry fought for control of Twyla. The anger found its way into her voice but the worry was etched in her features and the nervous way that her hands picked at the cot and her bare foot rubbed against her bare leg like it was fluttering for a place to be. Her eyes flickered nervously between the girl on the cot and the man that she-may-or-may-not-have-seen-around. A hand came up and rubbed through the frizz, pulling the hair-tie out in the process. "What happened?" The anger died down as the worry won out--it was late and Twyla had the sudden urge to cry in her worry and confusion.
