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 Apr 25, 2010 12:58:30 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
Twyla watched in mild fascination as fuzzy kitty ears sprouted from Calley's head, she then looked back to Maya. I suppose his is a bit more...controlled. A moment later a tail came to match the ears, although Twyla barely spared it a glance. It was much too close to uncomfortable memories for comfort.
Fine, because I haven't heard that before. There was an internal eye roll at the word 'fine'. It had such a broad meaning at this point that she really could be fine in Twyla's definition of the word or bleeding from cuts hidden underneath her shirt. It really could go either way. Some peering was done for any discoloration in the garment department. It didn't look like Maya was hiding any profound wounds but...it was so hard to tell. "Right." She murmured finally, they'd figure out if she was 'fine' or not eventually.
"Um, bye." Everyone was leaving the room so fast, including the Not-Toad-Cat-Boy.
Maya responded to the OAD in the affirmative and he responded with...nothing. It seems the Princess was dangerously close to being alone in the living room once again. Sighing after she watched him walk out, the girl leaned back on the cousins of the couch. "That..." A deep breath. "was the weirdest morning of my life." The blond closed her eyes for a moment and tried to let the images and emotions go with some slow breathing. "Let's clean up that cereal and then I vote we see if there's any coffee left in the kitchen."
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 23, 2010 13:35:08 GMT -6
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"Thanks." Twyla murmured to the compliment. She could still be a nurse, right? Just because she was a mutant and she wanted to be part of the X-men didn't mean she couldn't go to college an get the proper training and get a job as a nurse, right? Blood didn't freak her out and she didn't think she'd be too bad under the kind of pressure her mother had dealt with when she worked in a hospital.
She'd made it out of the door when she heard padded footsteps and felt the warm arms around her waist. The girl shivered when she felt the breath from Gawain's words behind her ear. She shivered again when he rubbed against her neck and her blush increased. I must be red all over. She thought before she took a deep, shaky breath. "Actually you might..." Twyla lost track of her words.
It was really hard to form a coherent thought when he was so close and there was less cloth to separate their bodies and the heat there. Part of her wanted to let go of everything and give in to her instincts but there was a larger part that was suddenly nervous. As the house got farther and farther away and they got deeper and deeper into the mood in her room Twyla started to get more nervous. The desperation she'd been feeling earlier was fading and in its place was a girl who was inexperienced, shy, and blushing like crazy.
The girl put her hands on Gawain's arms and loosened them just enough so she could turn and look up at him. Her breath was slower as she tried to find the words to articulate her nervousness. All that happened was an even more intense blush (or what she thought was a blush) and a soft "Um, Gawain..." What felt like a blush was actually her powers manifesting in her cheeks. Twyla had never blushed this deeply before, so she'd never known that her powers could mask just her cheeks like they were, not that she could see them.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 23, 2010 13:08:25 GMT -6
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Well, well, well...
This weekend is Prom and since I am Henrietta's platonic, female date I am obliged to get all dolled up along with her and go. Naturally, this weekend all of my teachers dumped a bunch of homework on me. Prom, homework, and Post-Prom will all result in little to no posting for most (if not all) of this weekend.
I figured I let you all know!
Prom is slowing Van and Twyla down and Henrietta and Dierdra as well. ;D
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 23, 2010 12:54:42 GMT -6
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"He threatens to kill you?" Twyla murmured, but she wasn't really looking for an answer as she was entirely focus on his wounds. They really weren't that bad, nothing too life threatening as long as they were being treated promptly. He'd survive till the morning and going to see Doc. Twyla felt a little less guilty about letting him wait (there was a selfish tint to the second option she'd given him, she hadn't really wanted him to leave her alone to get his arm looked at).
Family, huh? There was no way the girl was going to make any more judgemental comments about the cop guy thing then, family wasn't something you could rag on when you didn't get much of it. Twyla just murmured a soft 'Oh'.
There were a lot less 'ow's and a lot more relaxing in the arm region when the antiseptic was replaced by the ointment--the girl had assumed she'd get a similar reaction. "I guess that's what matters, huh?" Twyla pressed her forehead to the back of Gawain's head as she carefully wrapped the bandage around his arm. A moment later she fastened the ends and her attempt at first aide was complete.
Standing up, the girl took her tools back to the box on the counter and she said: "There, all better...or something. I hope I didn't do anything that'll mess you up later..." For a moment worry crossed the girl's face in the mirror as she washed her hands and then she turned back to the boy with a smile on her face. With the bandages covering the cuts Twyla was suddenly very conscious of the fact that Gawain didn't have his shirt on. Now, she'd seen bare chest before--this anatomy was nothing new. However, she'd never seen Gawain's bare chest and her cheeks flushed as her eyes subconsciously traveled across him and then she quickly looked away and walked towards the bathroom door, her eyes staying in front of her the whole time. Oh my god he is so... The girl bit her lip.
"Do you think your shirt is ruined?" Twyla asked as a way to keep her mind distracted and to gauge how much longer she was going to have to avert her eyes.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 22, 2010 17:27:47 GMT -6
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He'd crashed in a fancy hotel? Despite the illegality of it Twyla mentally gave the boy props, she'd never thought of doing that when she'd been sleeping outside during her...travels. She's warned him and he still exclaimed an 'ow' in pain. The girl rolled her eyes and continued to dab--antiseptic was the price to pay for a delayed visit to Doc.
"Wait, wait, wait. You ended up in a cop's apartment and he held a gun to your head and made you breakfast and you think you like him!?" There was enough over emphasis in the girl's voice to make up for the fact that she wasn't looking at the boy's face as she spoke. Dab dab here and a dab dab there. "Shhhh..." She crooned to the stream of 'ow's. "You're just fine." The dabbing didn't cease, but she tried to be a bit gentler with it.
The bottle of antiseptic was put down on the floor and a jar of ointment was opened. This stuff was much milder and had some things in it that would help soothe some of the irritated parts of the cuts that were scabbing over already but had been disrupted by the ripping off of the boy's shirt. "You're welcome for trying to be gentle." Twyla muttered only half angrily as she methodically applied the ointment.
"You get into a mess of trouble, don't you?" The girl's tone had gone into a strange, far-away, comforting voice as she capped the ointment and pulled a strip of bandage from her roll. There was some blood on her hands and she didn't even flinch, just kept carefully bandaging her...boyfriend's creeper house wounds.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 22, 2010 17:15:02 GMT -6
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Pants needed handing? What a coincidence, Twyla was all over that as she stood in the clearing keeping her eyes in the safe not-nakedness of the trees. Apparently her position for handing off the pants like a baton in a marathon was improper. "Sorry!" A blush spreading across her face, the girl took a few steps ahead as she was instructed. In the end the pants got handed with no unwanted viewing or being peeked at by either party repectively. All in all it was a smooth transaction in Twyla's opinion. Gryphons, she decided were much better than toads when it came to creatures from stories--there was no accidental ogling on her part and she didn't have to wear a PRINCESS tank top.
The girl's eyes remained safely poised towards the heavens as Carrick asked her if she enjoyed herself. At first she nodded vigorously and then blushed again as she realized he probably couldn't see her and it was redundant to nod. "Yeah, Carrick, that was...I've never done anything like that before." Her hands were even returning to a normal temperature and everything. "That was so cool and amazing and I wish I could find better words to describe flying right now...I was a lot better than class, I can say that." On instinct the girl smiled, even if the smile ended up being directed at a random tree across from her.
A moment later there was some rustling behind her and Twyla distractedly looked to see the boy. Ppanic bubbled inside her and then she noted that thankfully he now was wearing pants. She could deal with a naked chest, nothing overly dramatic there. The threat of a faint subsided. "Do you want me to get it for--What's that?" Once the scratching hand was removed Twyla noticed the ink (or what looked like ink) of a tattoo on the boy's skin. Was it a four leaf clover? She couldn't tell and she really didn't want to peer at his chest to find out.
That could be decidedly awkward and on a level that the girl had hoped she'd avoided once his pants were safely back on.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 22, 2010 16:50:02 GMT -6
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The girl walked back into the bathroom and looked at the open box next to the sink.
Quick made sense. Quick would be...Oh, no glass? Decidedly doable. Cleaning a cut was no problem. No glass was doable and would end things quicker and she'd feel less guilty about letting Doc wait until the morning. Sure, the blond had never cleaned this many cuts at one time but she had the experience that came with growing up on a farm and having a mother who was a nurse. She was pretty sure that the experience was why she had no real aversion to blood, it was just too prevalent in a lifestyle that required more blood and sweat than it was worth if you were small-time.
Twyla turned around from her kit in time to see an arm raised in her direction. Se he wanted some help? Help she could do, for all the reasons stated in the above paragraph and beyond. "I used to want to be a nurse..." The girl mumbled as she walked over to the boy, antiseptic, another warm washrag, and a roll of bandages. Now Twyla didn't know what she wanted to do with her life--she knew what she wanted out of it but not how she was going to go about the day-to-day that didn't revolve around a family. The wounds were carefully washed out with the rag as Gawain continued to talk.
"Really? Did you walk in on her in the shower or something?" Not that Twyla wouldn't have freaked and broken a mirror if she'd sen someone else's reflection in it...lucky thing she hadn't--or had she? Something occurred to the girl, but she kept it on the back burner for a moment.
"Well that's comforting, at least I know I don't have any unknown competition." Twyla laughed a bit, but she was more concentrated on applying some antiseptic. "This is probably going to sting a little bit...So he caught you using his first aid in his bathroom but he didn't send you to the cops or anything?" Curious, very curious.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 22, 2010 16:23:47 GMT -6
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Everything inside of the bathroom went just swimmingly. Twyla managed not to have an unfortunate accident and she even found a quarter in her stall (it was later washed off in the sink after being picked up with the use of toilet paper). Everything was just splendid on the blond girl's end, even if she did take her own sweet time returning to the outside world. You see, the only problem with the bathroom experience was that with the combination of lighting and giant mirror stretching above the row of sinks the girl realized that she looked a bit of a mess. Her hair was getting frizzed out of the careful side braid she'd tied it in that morning and her make-up was a bit on the dismal side. No worries, the girl decided, she had lots of time before their food and mildly attractive waiter arrived again at their table.
No worries...
So Twyla had undid, braided, undid again, and pulled her hair into a ponytail that did wonders on hiding her frizz. She also took plenty of time wiping off some of her minimalist makeup-that-was-much-too-much (along with making sure her lip gloss wasn't too messed up after drinking some of her Dr.Pepper). By the time the girl was satisfied (and thoroughly sick of the strange 70s music that was being played in the bathroom) a few minutes had gone by. Brown eyes scanned the room and suddenly noted that Henri wasn't where she'd left her. No worries, maybe she needed to check on something--or she's chatting up West-whatever-his-presumptions-name-is. I hope she'd chatting up West-mildly-attractive-waiter-guy, that would do her some good.
Slowly the girl took stock of the rest of the medium sized restaurant, there were no tall, hair manipulating mutant in sight. What the heck? Worry began to bubble in the girl's stomach when she saw that her's and Henri's bags were still sitting at the table. She wouldn't have just left her stuff... This was all decidedly weird and out of character. [/i]She wasn't in the bathroom...where would she have gone. This isn't like Henrietta.[/i] The girl soon saw a familiar face, his name tag read 'Weston'. "Have you seen my friend? The girl I came in with--she's tall and has dark hair..?"
"Uh, yeah." the waiter replied. "She just left, like, a minute ago with some dude...he looked like something out of Cats or something..." The man left to go and tend some needy lunch eaters before she could ask him what he meant. She left!? Worry turned into a more pressing sense of panic and the girl scooped up her purse and Henri's and walked to the host podium. "Um, my friend just left with someone...Can I leave my information with you in case she comes back?" The elderly man nodded at Twyla's barely steady request and soon she scribbled out her name and cell phone number on a paper menu.
A moment later the girl was on the street looking for a Broadway actor(?) and her best friend. "Henri?" She called as she walked back and forth in front of the restaurant. "Henri!?" This didn't make any sense at all, Henri would never do something like this. She didn't just leave by herself and she wouldn't have just left all willy-nilly with a stranger. But she's so nice, how could anyone..."she's so nice." The girl's heart sank as she dropped onto the curb in front of the Italian place.
Henrietta Braun was so nice and so innocent that she'd do anything to help anyone--what if someone took advantage of that?
In any case, there was neither hide nor prehensile hair of the girl Twyla had gone to lunch with and the blond had the sick feeling in her gut that wherever she was or was going she hadn't gone there willingly. Where the hell are you, girl? Twyla stood up and dusted her legs off, intent on returning to the restaurant and getting as much as she could out of Weston before she lost it completely.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 22, 2010 15:55:54 GMT -6
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Twyla almost laughed when she saw the look on Gawain's face. He looked just like a little kid who'd lost his toy and was ready to pout about it. Thankfully, she managed to keep her austere posturing until after she was done bossing him around about the cuts on his arm. She let herself smile when he grinned after she realized that he wasn't going to argue this issue with anymore of his 'I'm fine.' business (not that Twyla didn't totally understand the mentality of being 'fine'--she did the same thing a lot as she felt better if she could convince other people not to be worried about her). The smile faded after a moment. "And I'm totally serious." Worry was back in her eyes as they surveyed the cuts once more.
He told her he had no idea what would happen if he were in a mirror and it broke. Comforting...I could have killed him. He probably would have died if this is what he looks like after a few break while he's moving through them. I am so stupid, why do I do these things? Everything that happened tonight with Emerald and Gawain was my fault--they wouldn't have been there if not for me and-- She cut herself off in time to give him a "Me too." that was only a moment late and a few notches too quiet.
Twyla brightened a bit when he used his healthy arm to scoop her closer. "That's good because I'm worried a lot." The smile she looked up to give him was a little more faded than the ones she'd given him before but it was there. When asked about a first aide kit she twirled out of his arm and walked towards the bathroom again. "Actually, I have several." A pause and then her voice echoed from the tiny room: "That's weird, isn't it?" There were some rummaging noises and then a resounding thunk as something was plopped on the counter.
Returning to her room the girl asked: "Um, how do you want to do this?" Twyla had never removed glass from a wound before, she'd watched her mother do it and she'd helped her younger brother remove bits of gravel from a bad scratch on his knee before but that wasn't quite the same. That, and she had no idea if that was something Gawain wanted to do himself in privacy or something--she just knew that she had the tools to work with on such an endeavour.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 22, 2010 15:38:37 GMT -6
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"Well..." Twyla bit her lip and tried to find the logic in his assertion that they probably shouldn't be sticking together. It made sense--they'd look like the 'pair from the park' if they were in a pair. The blond totally understood the logic but she felt guilty about the state that the stranger was in because he'd been defending her. Why were people always doing that? "I guess that makes sense." A wrist twisted around and the hand connected to that wrist dug in one of the large pockets of the purse on the girl's shoulder.
A piece of paper and a purple pen appeared along with her reappearing hand. Quickly she bent her waist she she could write using her legs as a supportive surface. It wasn't unsafe to give someone your cell phone number--this guy didn't know her last name or where she lived and besides, it was prepaid phone, she had to buy minutes on it and all that. She could always get a new one if Ilari got all creeper on her anyway. "Here," she shoved the the half sheet of paper in his palm with her free hand while she dug in her purse for a second again. This time she had another granola bar clenched in her fist. "take this too." She shoved it into his palm again and gave him a weak smile.
"You can use that number if you need to, I know about a few places that are friendly to people like us and I'll try and help you if you ever need it. What you did back there--" She started and then looked away. The bus was now adding its last people. "Thank you." Twyla looked in the man's face as she said the two words and there was a grateful look on her face but something in the back of her eyes had gone hard as she thought about the college kid and how she's felt a few moments ago. She was always feeling like that.
The bus Twyla could use, she could transfer on to her usual route back to the Mansion with that bus. "Well...You should get that looked at, Ilari." The girl pointed at his torso, her face twisting in guilt for a moment. "Don't be afraid to call. I'll help you if I can. Good luck!" The girl smiled and then turned and started rushing to the bus. She made it right before the doors closed and boarded. Twyla found a seat in the back section of the and she got a window seat. As the bus pulled away from the stop she pressed her head against the cool glass of the window. I really need to be the rescuer one of these days...
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 22, 2010 15:14:16 GMT -6
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Twyla shrugged for the millionth time in the conversation. "I guess I don't remember ever feeling crowded. There was always something to do outside or in the barn I guess." The only crowded memories were related to holidays, but she'd already said that--as her sisters had slowly moved out the house had actually felt smaller. With the attic empty there were only two stories with people and Twyla had never dared enter her sisters room, even when she was safe for their wrath (it's hard to take out your wrath on someone when you're at least an hour away and in college).
"I didn't have to share a room either, the older girls got the attic and my brothers got the sitting room area on the second floor. My parents and I were the only ones with real bedrooms..." Guests didn't go beyond the first floor unless they were in search of the upstairs bedroom that all of the children shared (scratch that, those were crowded memories). The girl with the pink highlights had the smallest space to herself in the house, but she liked it that way.
Her question was answered with a description of the weather in different parts of the state and the girl noted to bring pants with her if she was ever going to spend any time in San Fransisco. Fog she was decently used to but earthquakes she did not think she would deal with very well, they always looked scary on TV and in the movies she'd watched for a history class once. "Alright..." She'd nodded and smiled with his response and then he asked her the reverse of that question.
"Well, I grew up on a dairy farm--so I obviously had a lot of cows in my life but most places aren't farms. Some of the smaller towns in my area, sure, most of what you see is corn and dairy cows but the population that actually farms is a lot smaller than you'd assume, I guess. There's some cool stuff too--like Madison is an amazing city and I've heard that Green bay is pretty cool, even if I haven't actually been there." Yet another shrug.
"Surfing?" She asked after a moment. "That's pretty cool--I hadn't seen the ocean until I...left but we hung out on the river in the summer...the Mississippi, that is. What else do you do for fun besides making songs and things out of mud?" The girl retreated once again to her post on the dryer (which was over halfway done with her order) and looked at the boy's face intently with a politely interested look on her own face.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 20, 2010 20:36:42 GMT -6
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'Some scratches' turned out to be wonderfully nasty and criss-crossing cuts all up his arm that totally distracted the girl from any thoughts about his bare chest. Twyla wasn't sure Gawain's definition of scratches were, but she was pretty sure that you got scratches on your knees when you tripped on pavement and the type of wounds he was really describing had words with more intense connotations connected to them--like gash or laceration or gouge. The girl had a sharp intake of air when Gawain pulled his shirt free from the dried blood and she saw them there.
Yet he continued to remain adamant about how fine and dandy he was and how they were 'no big deal'. Riiiiiiiiight.
The lip biting was noted, as was the hiss and the deep breath. No big deal it decidedly was not and Twyla wished she was a nurse like her mother so she could be a better judge of the deal in question. All that the blond knew what that she didn't like the look of his arm. Not one bit.
"I think you need to go see Doc." There was no lip biting or hesitance in Twyla's face, her hands moved to her hips and she looked up at the boy, her eyes all business. "It's either that or you pick out any glass and douse your arm in antiseptic and the wrap it--and then you'll go see Doc tomorrow first thing. And I'm talking first as in you don't even get up to pee, you just go straight to the infirmary."
And then suddenly something that had occurred to the girl in the creeper house reoccurred with the boy's words about breaking mirrors. Her eyes became less hard and commanding and more worried. "What would have happened if you'd have been in a mirror when it broke?" The girl's arms moved from at her hips to in front of her chest in a crossed arm gesture that was half a self hug.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 20, 2010 20:21:21 GMT -6
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Twyla didn't wear a watch, so she lost track of time while they were flying. It was freaking amazing and more than once the blond had to remind herself that she wasn't dreaming--she really was skipping class in order to go flying. Freaking. Amazing. Hands. Down. I can't believe this is actually happening. The girl found herself thinking as the Mansion got farther and farther away.
Her hands were freezing when their school started to get bigger and Twyla was glad that she'd at least thought to bring a sweatshirt with her--Spring temperatures on the ground she could usually tolerate sans jacket, but everything was a lot colder the higher you went. All too soon (not for her Popsicle hands, which rejoiced) Carrick got lower and lower to ground level and the flapped his wings a bit in a landing that the rider only felt a small jolt of. For a moment her turned back to look at her and before Twyla could get out so much as a 'Um, yes?' the gryphon-boy was running towards the patch of forest she'd seen him walk to earlier. Getting his clothes? Twyla wondered.
As soon as they hit a clearing Carrick let out some more of his chirps and lowered himself down--he sounded freaked out...or as close to freaked out as a gryphon can sound, so the girl quickly untangled her hands from the feathers of his neck and half slid half tripped off his back. A second later the mutant was running again, this time behind a bush. Twyla didn't have time for words before she heard screeches like the ones she'd heard earlier. She stood up from her awkward kinda-but-not-a-crouch position and brushed off the bottom of her jeans. Oh, it must be from the shifting... The girl bit her lip and looked around the clearing, her eyes avoiding the area near the escape bush. A few feet away from her she spotted a familiar sight--Carrick's pants from earlier.
And then everything clicked. Twyla totally would have been having a moment of panic if she was about to be very naked in front of someone she barely knew (or most people really, being naked alone in one's room is way different than with a crowd). Walking over to them, the blond picked up the pants and hesitantly neared the bush that Carrick was...changing behind. She waited for the noises of pain subsided before she murmured: "Um, do you want your pants?" while holding them out behind her (she was facing the opposite direction, she'd seen enough male nakedness in recent weeks to last her a while...and she really didn't want to faint again, that was soooo embarrassing).
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 20, 2010 9:50:30 GMT -6
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When she pulled away and asked him her question Gawain seemed confused. He's probably as scattered as I was. Was being the key word in that statement. The more...physical parts of the girl's mind were still totally aware of the closeness and were decidedly looking forward to more kissing like that, but these parts of her were also fighting for dominance with some concern and worry. Currently the concern was winning. Fine? I'm sure. Upon closer inspection the boy's shirt was discolored with something kind of dark. No big deal? Wait, is that--
"Blood? Is that blood?" Hesitant fingers flitted around the stains, trying to feel out the answer. "Are you bleeding?" With each question Twyla's voice got louder and filled with deeper emotion. That looked decidedly like blood. Blood was bad and did not 'fine' make. There was more hand flitting as the blond fought the urge to scrabble up Gawain's shirt sleeve and investigate more the extent of whatever damage it was. After a moment she pulled her hands together and held them against her chest so that she did cause anymore damage in her haste.
"Did you show--whatever it is to the Doc? Did he say it was fine?" That seemed off, but she was grasping for a reason as to why being hurt wasn't on top of Gawain's priorities. Thinking back on recent events she almost blushed--would she have wanted to worry about wounds when there was...other stuff on her mind? Probably not. Was it her fault? had she distracted him from his arm with her...excitement from earlier? Guilt mixed with teh worry in Twyla's stomach.
Her eyes danced between his arm and his eyes, trying to tell from his facial expression how bad his arm was.
Posted by Twyla Ashby on Apr 19, 2010 17:31:24 GMT -6
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May 1, 2012 13:42:06 GMT -6
Apparently her open door needed some closure, because without saying anything Gawain had walked out of the bathroom and she heard the clock of the handle locking with whatever part of a door keeps it closed. Just to make sure that she hadn't just been bailed on, the girl made her way out of the bathroom--
and straight into another intense kiss. On contact with his lips the blonde's heart sped up, her breathing became more gasping, and warm feelings erupted in her stomach that were akin to butterflies (but a million times better). Twyla could get used to feeling like this, it was exciting and new and warm and she liked the way it made her feel a little wild. The girl respond with a hungry mouth of her own and hands that traveled up Gawain's arms to--
a crinkly and slightly damp section of his shirt? What was up with that? Twyla's mind was briefly pulled from the...situation at hand to focus on the strange anomaly. That momentary distraction also paved the way for some more prudish and logical thoughts that had been lurking in the back of her mind since their first kiss at the bedroom door to come forward with their concerns. Um, sweetie, aren't you jumping into this a bit...quickly? The prude in her clutched at her pearls and stared at the spectacle of the kissing. You've never...gotten physical like this before--do you really think you're ready? This tiny bit of doubt was enough to slow the girl's speed down. Her hands slid back down to somewhere near the boy's elbows and her mouth pulled back from his so she could speak.
"Um, Gawain...?" Twyla sucked in a deep breath of air and worried her slightly swollen lips as she tried to look into the boy's eyes to telepathically explain the things she was too embarrassed to say out loud.
And then her eyes traveled down to his upper arm. "What's wrong with your shirt?" Not exactly the conversation she'd been trying to initiate, but it was a valid question. Chicken. Her logic muttered angrily as it stalked off to plot appropriate conversational phrases with her prude.
