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The heroes of yesterday are dead and gone. Division and the Mutant Control Enforcement Agency (MCEA) saw to that. This dystopia we live in is the result of one anti-mutant hate crime that sparked the third world war. The law now requires mutants to register, to spend the rest of their lives being a number on a file with a tracking device on their wrist or in their bloodstream.

For a while, the children of fallen heroes started to work in the shadows as the new X-Men. Not all that long ago, the latest incarnation of the X-Men was brought down in flames by Division's efforts. Team members captured, Agents killed, Cosmic fire everywhere... It seems as though the days of the X-Men have come and gone once again. Or have they?

For a while, the children of fallen heroes started to work in the shadows as the new X-Men. Not all that long ago, the latest incarnation of the X-Men was brought down in flames by Division's efforts. Team members captured, Agents killed, Cosmic fire everywhere... It seems as though the days of the X-Men have come and gone once again. Or have they?

Notice: Human Division employees are still much needed, even if they're depowered mutants. We would also love to see more MHA, Morlock and Purifier affiliated characters.

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 And it's Friday night and it's kicking in, [open] +tag Lyn
MALACHI L. WINTER
 Posted: May 5 2018, 03:00 AM
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Apothecary

Drug Dealer 24 He/Him 10 POSTS
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© NERYS · She/Her · Offline


    Winter 2039
    Fiddler's Green
    Detective Chaplyn Eslava's Residence
    2:27AM
The want to keep drinking amid these vacuous bimbos had left Malachi's interest long before last call. Lifting the glass to his lips, he took down the glass that was half full of tequila before tossing it with little care back down onto the bar-top alongside a few bills. Features offered the sidelong grin as he offered polite but firm goodbyes to the few who complained and pleaded for him to stay for another round. "Tomorrow maybe, I have to make this an early night. I've got a class to teach in the morning. G'night ladies."
Long strides had him outside and nearing his still being restored '72 Nova. When he had purchased it in high school he had to borrow $200 dollars from his father and until he paid the paltry sum back, the loan amount and the car which had since 'darkened his driveway' was often the topic of conversation.

Back then it had been painted flat black, and there were more than a few things that needed serious attention. The body wasn't that bad, but the transmission had needed a full rebuild. Since then he'd fixed all of the things that were needed to make the thing run and he'd given it a fresh paint job in cherry red. He kept the progress slow, but steady. Covering his tracks was important when he had to launder untaxed sources of financial revenue. Starting the gym had helped. Now that he had a steady flow of on the books money, he could breathe a little easier when it came to dealing supplements that wouldn't stand a chance of getting approved by the FDA. Getting pinched had actually been a blessing in disguise. It had introduced him to Detective Chaplyn Eslava, and her equally unique powerset.

The early morning that he was complaining about had a little to do with that. he was due for a visit in the mutant registration offices. So really what he needed was the ability to relax. At the moment he was wired and restless, almost twitching for a fight or an hour or two at the heavy bag. There were faster ways to get what he needed however. The engine cut to silence as he rolled his car curbside a few doors down from the innocuous target of his trajectory. The cadet blue house was a bit removed from the pulse of the city, something that looked better suited for a small nuclear family, not a single woman in the prime of her life. Malachi didn't give it much thought. He wasn't what people saw on the outside either.

As he ignored the path and walked across the freshly mowed lawn, he reached to his back pocket, to pull a small vial of consumable. Chaplyn lived on the top floor, her door was around to the back. Mal was glad that the outside motion lights were still broken as he strode the darkness between the houses and passed through the chain link gate. Boots thudded swiftly up the stairs, fist hammered against the taupe door with little regard to the hour. The glow of the kitchen light flickering on made him grin to himself as he tipped the vial of bluish something into his mouth. He didn't care if someone was there, if she was sleeping, they had established patterns. Grinning, Malachi pushed the door wider at the sight of Detective Eslava. Leaning down he offered the woman little time to process anything as he shared the thimbleful of enhancement that he'd kept from swallowing. Boot kicked the door closed as he continued to kiss the woman with surging ferocity. However she wanted to burn it off was her call. He take sex, a fight, he'd even feed her if she wanted that. He just needed to purge off the emotions from the bar he'd been tapping.
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CHAPLYN E. ESLAVA
 Posted: May 6 2018, 03:28 AM
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VAMPIRA

DETECTIVE twenty-nine SHE/HER 73 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


Sleeping alone had slowly become something of a distant memory. There had been few nights spent separately since they'd started doing whatever it was they were doing. The nights they were solo were typically nights where one or both of them had to work. Usually by now she would have gotten bored or annoyed with whomever she had been seeing and moved on to and then through someone new. The fact that Chaplyn wasn't experiencing any of her usual commitment phobic or restless tendencies was something that had not been lost on the detective, she just opted to ignore it.

Whether or not their constant companionship would have occurred had Joe and fucking Jeremiah hadn't trashed the Magnus Recovery building was debatable but ultimately unknowable. Or at least potentially unknowable. After all, the building would eventually be repaired and Joe's would be able to return to his own home. It was just another thing she planned on ignoring until she absolutely had to deal with it. Except for when fucking Jer decided to bring it, and other things he really needed to stay out of, up. Sometimes she really hated Joe's best friend, who would rather pick at them than work on his own dangerous bullshit.

Chaplyn groaned quietly in her sleep as she curled a little closer into Joe's eternally warm frame. As someone who very rarely slept with cloths on it, curling up with a living radiator had its perks in the cooler weather. By some miracle their powers balanced each other out, even while they slept, so even if she did get a little singed in her sleep she would never even know it. This worked out well for the pair of fun loving mutants who tended to get a little too fucked up and pass out together.

Some unknown element tugged at the threads of her consciousness forcing her to surface until she found herself in the place between awake and asleep. It wasn't the thudding that dragged her out of her peaceful slumber but the adrenaline surging just outside of her apartment. Abruptly sitting up she brushed hair out of her face and mumbled a disgruntled "Whatthefuck." Throwing off the blankets and wriggling her way out of bed, Lyn grabbed Joe's shirt and began tugging it on. She buttoned enough buttons to keep the shirt closed as she stormed through the small apartment to make the pounding stop.

There was a time when she would have been a lot more cautious about answering her door at three in the morning. The knowledge that if she got shot she'd be able to walk it of and her displeasure with the situation seemed to make her a little more reckless than before. Unlocking the door and flinging it open, Chaplyn had no time to yell at the person on the other side or even fully process who it was. Malachi's mouth was suddenly crushing against her own and for a brief moment she was a willing participant before shoving him into the now-closed door. "WHAT THE FUCK MAL!"

Chaplyn was hit with a sudden rush of the consumable feeling she hadn't been aware she was being slipped. Her heart started pounding in her chest and she could feel herself begin to flush. "We've had this conversation, I'm seeing someone now!" Her words came out quickly and breathlessly and she should have been worried or freaking out but couldn't seem to find her way towards that end of the spectrum. Lyn pushed her mess of hair out of her face and took a few steps back to be able to grip the back of one of her kitchen chairs with one hand. Despite having been rudely awakened, the blonde no longer felt the need to sleep ever again.

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JOSEPH V. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: May 6 2018, 05:04 PM
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HEYLEL

RECOVERY AGENT 28 He/Him 71 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© Kee · He/Him · Offline


Like a corpse in the loving embrace of mother’s dirt, Joe was dead to the world. Pure exhaustion had taken hold and she was being aided by her good friend intoxication and various other amigos that had come along for the ride the evening before. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it had become rather commonplace. More frightening was the fact that he hadn’t mixed his normal concoction of narcotics and alcohol to lull himself to sleep. What had once been a beer before bed to help him drift had turned into a science experiment into how much his system could tolerate before he’d slip into a coma, overdose and die, or overcharge his system to the point he’d be able to power the city for the next hundred centuries.

Sleep never came easy to Joseph. His abilities were something that constantly needed to be monitored. Years and years of tinkering, experimenting with drugs and materials, technological aids, etc. had helped Joseph create a rather elaborate system to monitor his emissions during unconscious cycles and alert him when they spiked. While such accidents didn’t happen often, he wasn’t too keen on waking up to the smell of smoke and a mattress engulfed in flames. He had learned rather quickly that the insurance companies weren’t too keen on paying out to mutants who repeatedly were at fault. Especially those who had the tendency to burn buildings to the ground when they weren’t conscious. Not that being awake would have been an excuse.

Not now.

The response was automatic, muffled through the insulated sheets that were pressed firmly against his lips. One of the many items that had migrated over from the remains of his penthouse above the office. They had learned rather quickly, at the expense of her bedding, that even with the seeming mitigation of their abilities together, he was really great at torching her linens. Sure, it looked as though they were sleeping in something that had fallen off of a shuttle during launch, but it worked wonders. It also didn’t feel too terrible against his bare skin and that was pretty rare. Despiste his devil-may-care attitude in regard to his mental health, he was rather particular about his moisturizing routine.

But in that bed, next to her, he was fine. It unnerving. Somewhat confusing. But ultimately a level of peace that he hadn’t had in quite some time and he wasn’t going to waste his time with questioning it and analyzing it. That’s what Jeremiah was for. He couldn’t be too hard on him, especially since he was handling most of the renovations with Michelle. The two of them had cut him entirely out of the project, not that he minded. He wasn’t much for decor conversations, picking out tile, or cutting checks. When he wasn’t working, when they weren’t partying, he often found himself in her apartment. More to the point, he found himself in her bed, in her arms, or in a state of nudity somewhere in her apartment.

That’s when the screaming pulled him out of his dreams and back to reality. Sitting up, he heard a door slam and wasted little time in staggering off the bed and fighting his way out of the sheets. It took him a moment to find his socks and throw them on. Much like the sheets, they were hideous but they served a greater purpose than to be fashionable. Reaching into the nightstand with both arms as he bolted free of the room, he had grabbed his gun with his right hand a pack of smokes with his left. He didn’t know which the situation needed, but his first response didn’t need to be immolating somebody. As he hit the room, he was somewhat confused by the sight.

Chap was in his shirt, which wasn’t all that surprising. But there was a guy standing intimately close to her, and her skin was flush. There he was, standing in the entry to the room like a nude Christmas tree with way too many goddamn lights. Gun in hand, wearing confusion on his face like cheap mascara, and unsure of what the fuck was going on.

"So, am I handling this or are you? It's too fucking early."
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MALACHI L. WINTER
 Posted: May 8 2018, 12:02 AM
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Apothecary

Drug Dealer 24 He/Him 10 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© NERYS · She/Her · Offline


At first the detective responded in kind. Her hands, lips and tongue assaulted his own with the same ferocity to which they'd grown accustomed. His hands were sliding across the bare exposure of her midriff and backside with intentions of lifting her and finding a suitable place and posture to relieve their conjoined needs when the hard shove put him back a few paces, to smack against the nondescript door. He was blinking in confusion at Lyn's explosive reaction. Not being in the mood was one thing, but this was an unfamiliar change to the person he'd grown to know. This wasn't a playful no, this was a flat out, no, and he was not the sort to blur that line. In the words of Seth Gecko; He might have been an asshole, but he wasn't a fucking asshole.

"Shit! Did I hurt you or something?" Aggressive was one thing, but this was supposed to be fun, not a twisted version of domestic abuse wearing the costume of consent. "I know that mix was a little strong, but I thought you would have appreciated how many times I had to get my sexoholics anonymous partner off to make that." There was a brief pause as he legitimately conveyed perplexity at the repeated mantra that she'd told him a while back. "Wait... still? Its been almost two months, you don't usually keep anyone around for more than a couple of weeks. I just figured... still?" His head was shaking incredulity.

"Have you drunk the entire pitcher of Kool-Aid? Gone monogamous? Exchanged promise rings?" He couldn't help but tease her. Of all of the people he'd known, Chaplyn Eslava was the last one he'd ever guessed to stick to a traditional anything. It was difficult not to act on the emotion he'd shared with her, but jokes were helping. Teeth flashed a grimace at he gestured for her to step closer. "Come'ere, I'll take it back and then go hit the heavy bag for a few hours or something." Running his hand through his overlong blonde hair to fix the disheveled muss up he'd suffered when the police officer shoved him, he gave an earnest 'trust me' expression.

If Maximoff hadn't stormed in to blurt out an unmistakable threat it could have... would have been settled without further incident. Unfortunately, Malachi was famous for making things go from bad to worse with his attitude. It was a classic defiance issue. For example. he had no problem wearing a seat belt. -but if he slipped into a car and was ordered to put one on before he made that logical decision for himself, he would pointedly refuse. This was no different for the naked guy with the gun who was clearly flexing his mutation while getting into a literal dick measuring contest. "Put it away cowboy, we got this."
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CHAPLYN E. ESLAVA
 Posted: May 8 2018, 11:57 PM
Quote

VAMPIRA

DETECTIVE twenty-nine SHE/HER 73 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


Chaplyn tried taking a few deep breaths and thinking about anything that could even slightly derail the effects of the drug. She knew it was futile, Malachi's products never failed. Especially not when they were in such high concentration. "Oh I'm very appreciative of your hard work right now." Lyn let out a strangled laugh and heard the IKEA chair crack under her enhanced strength as she gripped it tighter. Until that point she hadn't even realized that she had powered up.

She supposed she couldn't blame him for his doubts. Chaplyn usually went through partners fast enough to give onlookers some semblance of whiplash. Finding herself unable to think clearly enough to string a few words together, she gave a large shrug and held up the universal 'I need a minute' signal. Hearing Joe's voice she turned towards him and thanks to the consumable she almost immediately regretted it given his state of undress. If it were at all possible, she could have sworn the drug got stronger as she found herself lasciviously staring at the man in his socks.

Were it not for the horrifying foot covering fabric the light wood flooring of her apartment would be covered in footprint burn marks by now. Chaplyn tried to fixate on the socks and her floors as they were things that would typically snap her out of it for at least a second or two. Her initial attempt to reply came in the form of of a series of humming sounds from ahhmmh to hnnng. Crossing her legs tightly the detective ungracefully sank to the floor with a shuddering sigh. Looking at Mal but gesturing at Joe, she managed to clear her throat and say "It's. Flavor Aid." She didn't know whether or not to thank or curse Winona for that factoid lingering in her brain and choosing such an opportune moment to pop out.

She shook her head at Mal, it wasn't that she didn't trust him to do exactly what he was offering to. Nor was it that she didn't exactly trust herself at that moment, it was her legs general refusal to work. Self-restraint had never been something she was overwhelmingly good at, particularly when it came to her vices. This made staying put incredibly difficult but ultimately the smartest thing she could have done at that moment. Her entire body was on fire in the most torturous, blissful way and it was almost a shame to give it up. Chaplyn laughed and then groaned "Ten out of Ten, would try this product again."

Still clinging to the dining chair, Lyn twisted so she could get a partial look at her companion of indeterminate title and tried to assure him that everything was fine. "S'alright, Joe. He's a friend." Given the circumstances she doubted she would need to explain the exact nature of her previous friendship with Mal. Trying to explain the additional details of their dealer-supplier cycle was a little too much for her to try and put into words at that moment anyway. Blinking rapidly she waved her hand in a sloppy circle as she tried to get out another sentence. "I could um, dampen your adrenaline so you're not at the, uhm, bag aaaallll night."

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MALACHI L. WINTER
 Posted: May 11 2018, 03:49 AM
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Apothecary

Drug Dealer 24 He/Him 10 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© NERYS · She/Her · Offline


"Do I also need to stop by a department store in the morning to get you a new chair?" Malachi's voice deepened with good natured humor at the predicament and its resulting cause and effect. This was a bit of an inside joke for the two of them. They had, to date, broken a lot of furniture, including a couple of chairs. Chaplyn during one instance, ripped the headboard off of the wall of a hotel room. But by far, the most memorable and laughter inducing destruction had been the time they'd dented some schmoe's car in the parking garage outside of the downtown strip of bars they both were frequent to visit. It was a memory he referenced under, fun to tell at parties; especially the part about the alarm and airbag triggering.

Detective Eslava was easy to like, and she didn't judge him straight away for being a cocksure asshole. She was smart enough to know that he was also a person behind the shocking and direct phraseology - that a lot of it was a goddamn joke. "Better the chair than my shoulder. So I really appreciate the restraint... well not all of the restraint but in my defense this is ...different."

Pulling a breath, and trying his damndest to conceal a smirk that just wouldn't budge, Malachi pulled his attention to the naked eurotrash in the doorway. The black socks were about as boner killer as they came, so that, at least, was something to keep ruminating on while he tried to at least give the guy the respect of acknowledgement. "You might want to give us a minute or two. Unless you've got a kink for voyeurism. I could give a shit either way, but this isn't just a handshake sort of exchange and I think we're all adult enough to know it." It was everything in his being not to add on something cheeky that was guaranteed to start an altercation, but this was his friend's apartment and she could have been a lot meaner with her firm thanks but no thanks.

He didn't wait to see if the sparkly guy was going to listen, leave or watch. Al of this was up to Lyn. and he was a lot more eager to return his attention to the curvy blonde and all of the facets about her that were driving his want. The glib smirk widened. He didn't step closer, not just yet. Instead he let the police officer offer another rushed and fluttery few words. seeing her fighting it was almost worth the taste of blood that he was surely going to have in his mouth after one of them gave him a crack across the jaw.

It was a shame. If he'd known that their last time together was going to be the season finale, he would have picked a more memorable place than in the bathroom stall of an underground club. Palm pressed against the top of the table, positioning to her side, but in that jock at a locker sort of lean that goaded lascivious intentions. "I'll do my best to behave. But before you go trying to play hero, we need to get you thinking straight first."
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JOSEPH V. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: May 15 2018, 09:20 PM
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HEYLEL

RECOVERY AGENT 28 He/Him 71 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© Kee · He/Him · Offline


He was babbling and Joe was only half listening. He understood the words that were coming out of his mouth, he was comprehending them, but his mind was miles away. It had to be. Joe walked around the kitchen and made his way to the fridge. Opening, he dug around as the man continued to listen to the sound of his own voice, seemingly getting hard in the process. He wasn’t too bad looking, he’d gave Chap that. Another place and a younger Joe, far more intoxicated than he currently was, this could have probably been a thing. Not that he was ever too keen on having foreign objects in his holes, at least not throbbing ones. But he wasn’t entirely against doing a bit of necking.

But this guy was asking for it. Normally he would of been more than happy to grant him his wish. They weren’t on the street and the only witness was Chap, who currently didn’t seem like she was at her best. Whatever had transpired before Joe came down - which he imagined was a bit of fucking around, from what he had overheard - was done. He really didn’t care. Joe didn’t walk into see Chap sprawled out across the counter and some random twink proving his worth with through his dick. Taking a hold of an empty bottle, Joe leaned over and dropped it into the trash. Chap had responded, stating that they were indeed friends, but he was still quite oblivious to the world around him.

Everything had hit him fast. Too fast. They hadn’t been asleep long enough for Joe to burn it out, which meant he was flying with a bit of an edge. That was never great, especially when he was being brought back to life on somebody else’s terms. Thankfully, it was also something that he could burn out of his system. Which, normally, he would have done with a couple solid hours of sleep. There weren’t too many things that when push came to shove Joe couldn’t just burn off. It was the reason why he had to eat so goddamn much, just to keep himself upright and fully functional. After a couple seconds, Joe found what he was looking for. Stepping away from the fridge, he let the gentle momentum lead the door to a close.

Approaching the pair, he placed the bottle of JCB on the countertop and quickly went digging away into the cupboards. The doors swung away, opening and closing, until finally he found a pair of shot glasses. Returning to the counter, he placed them down rather calmly, about an inch or so apart, as he opened the bottle. Grabbing it rather tightly by the neck, he took a deep chug before pouring two shots. He drank one. Refilled it. Looked as though he was contemplating leaving it alone, but then drank the second as well. He filled it a third time and placed the bottle back onto the counter with very little fanfare. His head was a bit more clear, but now he was just thirsty.

We need to get you thinking straight first.

Maybe he was a psychic? He was obviously talking about Chap, but it didn't matter. Joe had found his zen in the bottom of a shot glass, like usual, and was ready to meet the day - er night - head on. Looking at the distance between the two, while given the reassurance from Chap, he just didn’t like the guy. Not because they had fucked before, he wasn’t possessive in that way, but because he thought he was being cute and that there was anything to measure. Joe’s cock was out and on the goddamn table. Figuratively and nearly physically, his pubic hair peeking out from beneath the ledge. His patience was thinning.

I don’t play hero and I really don’t have the fucking time for you to sit here and try to cuck me. Yeah, you guys used to fuck. Cool. She’s fucking amazing, good on you.

The room dimmed as the photons were drawn together to the side of Chaplyn, separating the two. The exterior was was white hot, while the interior closest was kept cool to the touch. The ebb and flow showering them with a soft white spotlight. The structure was quickly given form, reminiscent of a dingy brick wall. The bottle and the shots were conveniently on the side, within reach of the two men.

I’m not sure the kind of shitheads you’re used to dealing with ...

He scooped up the shot glass closest and tossed it back. He refilled it just as quickly.

… but you keep ranting and you’re not going to have to worry about working anything off but a permanent tan from the inside of a cedar box.

Leaning forward, he pushed the shot glass towards the man.
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CHAPLYN E. ESLAVA
 Posted: May 18 2018, 09:04 PM
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VAMPIRA

DETECTIVE twenty-nine SHE/HER 73 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


Mal joked but Chaplyn’s tendency to break things by accident was occasionally something of an epidemic. When it came down to the choice between holding back or sacrificing inanimate objects, things got broken. Things were easier to replace and typically cheaper than medical bills or taking a stroll into Bloom’s. "Mhmm," She didn’t catch every word Mal said, she didn’t have the attention span or ability to focus. The segment of chair she had been gripping finally gave way under the pressure she’d been applying.

Chaplyn blinked rapidly fighting the urge to grab either the table’s leg or Mal’s, ultimately choosing to continue to abuse the poor chair by grabbing one of its legs instead. She'd rather replace a chair than the table and a chair. "Doesn’t have to match, if that hnnnng helps." If she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn it genuinely delighted Mal whenever things got damaged. Lyn closed her eyes and attempted to take a few slow breaths as she further curled into herself.

There were words being said but she was not exactly listening, as if anyone could blame her for being mentally elsewhere. When she opened her eyes again, Malachi was right there. Or rather his groin was there, more or less at eye level and the tightness of his jeans did little to hide the fact he was seriously enjoying the chem too. Somehow the only word he spoke that she actually heard was behave. Even without context it seemed to help her fight the urge to pull him to the floor with her.

Joe's voice. Joe was saying something. Chaplyn was tempted to turn around to look at him, but stopped herself upon remembering his current state of dress would be no help to her predicament. Lyn chuckled and bit her lower lip as Joe described her as 'fucking amazing' and then immediately groaned. "Can someone google whether or not you can die from blue-tubes?" In her stupor she wasn't quite sure if the lighting was changing or if it was just her, until the light show began and a wall appeared between herself and Mal.

Though she was still consistently in awe of Joe's constructs, this one worried her a little. She wasn't quite sure why it was there, or whatever was the two of them were up to. Or which one of them were going to do something stupid first. Actually catching what Joe said in regards to 'permanent tan' and 'cedar box' so Lyn called out "No murders in the apartment." She may not have had many, but that was one of the few rules she had in her apartment.

The detective couldn't figure out how the hell Mal was still standing if he had gotten even half the dosage she had. It just didn't seem possible as Lyn was slowly reaching the end of her rope. Unless her powers were exacerbating her experience. Chaplyn was already more than willing to relieve the pressure herself, the only thing stopping her was the potential price tag attached to it. The thought of that aspect of the Apothecary's work gave her a moment of clear thought.

The brick wall dissipated as Lyn's fist flew towards it and into her intended target, Mal's thigh. On some level she had known that Joe wouldn't make her have to deal with the burn of contact with the heated elements of one of his constructs. It was sweet of him. "If I find out you've been s-selling this to anyone other than happy consenting couples... bad things. Bad things will happen to your beautiful ass." Locking eyes with Mal, the red-eyed cop attempted some semblance of serious cop-face. "Your ass is beautiful too, Joe."

With a shuddering sigh, Lyn sunk closer to the floor until she was laying on it with Joe's shirt doing little in the way of modesty. Not that modesty was particularly important, they'd both seen the show before. "You're both pretty and multi-talented, but if I have to fix this myself I’ll be the only one having a good night."

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