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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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.
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Jorge
“Argh!” Jorge grunted as he ducked down behind a police squad car. “You’ve GOT to be kidding me!”
The detective was used to be shot at. Being a cop, it came with the territory. He carried a few scars from bullets that he was lucky enough to only get snagged by. The shotgun wound to his side was the roughest one. Though the two he had on his shoulder were no piece of cake to recuperate from either. And let’s not even get into the knife wound he had earned. No, it was safe to say that the detective had not only seen his job, he had lived it. He walked away from it with one thing or another to remember his day. The majority of those souvenirs came in the form of scars and blood loss.
But this was entirely different. He did not want to get scarred by napalm!
He was called into a jewelry store robbery that had gone south rather quickly. The leader of the gang was an up and coming street thug by the name of Firearm. The man, tall, light skinned Hispanic male had a rather unusual mutation, he could shift both of his forearms and hands into fleshy cannons that fired napalm. Already one of the responding officers was down and paramedics were doing their best to treat him…his wounds though…he was not going to make it through the night…
“If you don’t want any more dead cops or hostages, I suggest that you all pack up and leave right now!!!” a voice screamed from the cracked open door to the diamond district building.
Jorge sighed as he grabbed the bullhorn from inside the squad car. “Ramirez, you know we can’t do that! Come out quietly before this ends badly!!”
“Oh yeah, pig?!” one of the thugs cronies screamed. He leaned out and opened fire with his machine gun into the crowd.
Jorge winced as he ducked back behind the squad car and felt it get eaten up by bullets. The detective was not a negotiator but he doubted that even a trained one would get into that thick skulled buffoon was who firing at them. Still though, as much as Jorge wanted this to end peacefully, he knew that it was far from happening. However that thug was producing those napalm blasts, they had a hell of an impact. A glance underneath the car and he would already see the tires melting from an earlier attack. How as he going to get close enough?
“This is your last warning, Pigs!” Firearm screamed as he held up his arm and watched it transform in a bio-cannon. Aiming it out the door, he aimed directly for the nearest squad car. “Get outta our way, or BURN!!!”
There was a second of nothing…and then…
KLLLLAAAAATHWWWWOOOM![/b]
The first blast of fiery napalm flew from the barrel and soared through the cool air light a comet. The plasma glowed a variety of shades of reds, oranges and yellows, but the second it struck ground, is shattered into a wave of burning goo. Anything it touch began to melt or catch fire. There would be no saving anything from it.
That cop was going to die, Jorge knew that. And as much as Jorge knew that he would kill someone else if they didn’t leave…it simply could not be done. The man and his gang needed to be stopped here and now. If they didn’t, it they were allowed to leave with those hostages in the building, Jorge knew that every last one of them was going to sharing the same fate as that officer who convulsed in the back of the ambulance.
Grinding his teeth, the detective raised his gun as he cautioned a glance over the hood of the car. The door was closed, but Firearm would not be far behind it.
Posted by Saphirus on Jul 14, 2011 22:53:45 GMT -6
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Puck
Saphirus had his fair share of scars; More so than someone should have. He'd been shot countless times by now, mostly while wisely keeping his right side forward, so that the bullets merely stuck in his skin. Those wounds hurt, but they weren't the worst. The worst had actually come from a finger, and it wasn't the pain that made it the worst. The man now sitting atop a roof in the guise of the Judge was no stranger to pain. Sometimes he even welcomed it like an old friend. Loss was something different, though.
Loss was an ache that pierced deeper than anything ever could, and he'd felt it all too often. All too often it was injustice that caused loss in his life. Injustice was a demon that made someone want to lash out at the world. It was a being made of unfairness, death, and helplessness. Saph had long since decided that he would act on his desire to lash out, but not at the world, no... He would lash out at injustice itself. He would take those monsters that the police of this city coddled, and captured to put into neat little boxes like dogs in a pound, and he would send their heads to their mothers in boxes.
The Judge stood from his seat at the edge of the small building's rooftop. He reached across to his left bicep to tighten a strap on his plated armor. Cafas had done a great job, he would have to thank him. That was a thought for later, though. For now, according to his 'borrowed' police transceiver, an upcoming villain had decided to crawl up from his crack in the ground and go on a crime spree. Firearm. He'd never had the pleasure of meeting the rising star, but he'd heard a lot about him. Now was the perfect time to stomp him into the ground and show his peers just how truly screwed they were now that the Judge was in town.
A few minutes of rooftop hopping, hobbling, and clanking armor later, he was leaning against a ledge next to a jewelry store, spying a ball of plasma as it slammed into a cop car. Damn, this guy was gonna be a challenge. He'd heard over the radio that he'd taken a cop down. The men in blue probably wanted to slam come cuffs and a collar on this guy and put him in a hole for a while- that wasn't going to happen.
Saph knew what would happen. He, and all of his men were going to die. He was going to make that happen.
The Judge pulled his hammer from its spot on his back, and hobbled on over to the other side of the roof. No back entrance... That meant he would have to enter from the top. Damn... He wouldn't be able to do this without help. He looked down to the radio strapped to his chest, and turned the dial until he heard police chatter.
A deep, gritty voice would be heard over the police frequency. "In 30 seconds, there will be a loud noise within the jewelry store. It should distract them. Be ready to storm in. Don't F*%^ up..." He left it at that, and used some of his collected energy to hop the gap from his roof to the jewelry store's. He landed in a roll, and hobbled on up to a skylight. A quick glance told him there were many perps inside- he estimated at least 15. More hostages. This was a very well organized heist. He would have to enter in one of the smaller, more isolated rooms. He took a moment to find the right skylight for the job, and spied two men roughing up the manager's office. They seemed to be looking for something.
The judge didn't waste another second- He kicked in the glass, causing the men to look up. Before they could react, he dropped down, landing a metal boot right into one's face. A quick palm to the chest of the other shattered his whole rib cage, killing him just slow enough for him to hold down the trigger of his automatic, filling the building with the sounds of gunfire. The Judge grinned under his mask.
That should get their attention.
~~~~
The sound of gunfire from within the building caused Firearm to look back. Had they come from the roofs? He'd chosen this place because it would have been too hard for them to get people onto the roof. Maybe he'd missed something. It didn't matter. The cops weren't going to get him. Not today.
You didn't garner good a name for yourself in this business by being stupid. He was smart- he always had a way out. That was another reason he had chosen this place- it only had one entrance and exit- from the front. Because of this the cops would only gather in the front. He gave a nod to another of his men, who took two others to go check out the shooting. While that happened, he retreated to the back of the store while his men followed with the hostages. The plan was to make a back door with his arms, and then escape from a secondary vehicle; a bus they had parked out back.
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Jorge
KAAAAA-WHOOOOOSH!!!
Jorge cringed as he felt another explosion of napalm and pressed his back against the car. Gun held high, he glanced once more over the hood of the car and saw that Firearm had retreated from one of the windows near the door. The man was keeping the police at bay very successfully. The man was smart, he had chosen a location that made it difficult for snipers to get a good beat on him, as well as made it hard for cops and SWAT team members to figure a none obvious way in. Everyone was trapped between a rock and a hard place and as over the barrel as Firearm had them, the man was trapped too.
Standoff…it was a horrible word to utter, in Jorge’s mind. Normally criminals in a standoff were hard to predict. They could get desperate and maybe even kill far more people than they normally would have. It was not an ideal situation.
“Cervantes!” came voice from a nearby squad car.
Jorge turned and nodded to the officer in blue who was hidden behind his own car. A glance between them and the man tossed over a heavy duty walkie-talkie which the detective caught deftly in his hand. Jorge clicked the speak button and replied.
“Go ahead.”
”Cervantes. S.W.A.T.s getting ready to deploy the smoke bombs. You’re going in with them.”
With a shake of his head, Jorge gritted his teeth as he responded. “No, no! Are you joking! Those criminals in there are getting desperate. The second Firearm sees the smoke bombs he’s going to eradicate as many of them as possible. We need to in there smart! Not with our heads up out a-“
But before the detective’s rant could continue, there was a sudden static on the line and someone else broke into the police channel…
>> "In 30 seconds, there will be a loud noise within the jewelry store. It should distract them. Be ready to storm in. Don't F*%^ up..."
“What? Who is this? Identify yourself, officer!”
Jorge arched a brow as he looked closely at the radio in his hand. The detective really had no idea who this could possibly be. Was it some cop trying to pull off a desperate move or was it someone else? Jorge knew that the city had its fair share of vigilantes, but they could not be part of the X-Men. The X-Men were working with the cops, never without identifying themselves first. This person seemed more like a freelancer? But who? That psycho that was causing explosions even for the smallest of crimes? Maybe it was Garrett again? Jorge remembered when he ran into him a few months back. He said they would meet again…
No…this guy seemed different. His voice…far more dangerous.
Immediately the detective was suspicious. But just as he was about to jump on the line again and argue the point
BRRRRAAKK! BRRRRRAK!!! BRRRRAK!!![/b]
A gun went off, somewhere inside the building. A glance at the windows and Jorge saw that many of the gunmen were beginning to leave their spots. It was an opportunity and more than likely their only one. Taking a steady breath, Jorge jumped to his feet and ran towards the door, followed by the shouts of protests from his feel officers. It was a stupid move, he knew that, willing throwing himself in danger, but it was his only chance. He had to take it.
Arriving at the door, Jorge paused as he slowly and cautiously placed his hands on the door handle. One tap…two taps…still no reaction from inside. Whatever had caused that noise in the first place could have been anything but it offered these fine policemen a rare opportunity.
He placed his hand firmly on the door knob and glanced back just in time to see two more officers join him at his side. That should hopefully even up his odds just a tad bit. An appreciative nod and Jorge slowly and gently as possible turned the door knob. As he cracked the door open just barely, he glanced inside and saw that so far no one was guarding the door. They were on the move. Whatever that noise was had distracted the hell out of them.
Gently pushing open the door, Jorge slipped inside, checked his corners and waved for the pair of officers who followed him to keep doing so. He hoped whatever had the thugs spooked would continue to do so long enough for him to secure hostages…
Posted by Saphirus on Aug 15, 2011 16:56:22 GMT -6
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Puck
The Judge looked down to the man beneath his feet after the man he'd palmed's ammo ran out, and he expired... Somehow the man was only knocked out... That wouldn't do. He pulled the man's gun from his clenched fingers with a bit of effort, and turned the gun on him.
BLAM. One less scum bag out on the streets, one more in the ground.
He popped the clip to see how much ammo was left... It was minus one bullet, the one he'd used to kill it's owner. With a slide and a click, the gun was ready to fire once more- he stared at it for a moment... He'd never liked guns- items made to kill, and and only kill. In the hands of a good man, they saved lives, and in the hands of evil men they inspired fear and terror... Either way, they only had one job. Through the wall he felt two figures approaching fast, their heavy footsteps alerting his sixth sense. In one smooth motion he aimed through the wall, holding the gun in his right hand so that recoil wouldn't be an issue, and squeezed the trigger until the gun was empty...
He sighed, and dropped the implement of death onto the ground... Even when they were used for justice they left a bad taste in his mouth.
The loud announcement of a new york street accent yelling. "S**T! COPS!" Let him know that the fuzz had decided to join the party. Saph felt the tickle of the energy that shooting the gun had given him... It was strange that something he hated so much would be double useful in such a way... Ironic.
The low clanking of his armor could be heard as he stepped slowly from the room. A slow, measured glance showed him that the men that had been running down the hall were definitely not getting up. He looked further down the hall to see shadows moving about-
~~~~
VWUMPH-CRASH!
Dust billowed out as the back wall of the store collapsed in on itself. The sound of coughing hostages and thugs was overridden by that of loud gunshots in the front of the store- it looked the the five suckers he'd gotten to stay behind with the promise of a swift jailbreak if they got caught(Idiots) had met up with the cops. It looked like this plan was going to go off without a hitch! The sound of a steady clanking coming from one of the side hallways caused him to pause. He motioned for one of his men to check it out. The second the man got to the hallway, a freaking sledge hammer implanted itself into his belly, and he was sent flying back.
"Holy SH- Open fire!" Firearm Turned while the bulk of his men were distracted filling the general vicinity of the hallway with lead, and tapped his three best men on the shoulders, motioning for them to grab a few hostages and head out the exit with him.
~~~~ The Judge was pinned down. He hid behind the corner of the hallway as bullets tore the area around him apart... Jesus, he'd been in some pretty messed up situations, but never any with this many goddamn bullets headed his way! He crouched down low and took cover... Even he wasn't going anywhere... not without help.
~~~~
The entrance to the store would be devoid of hostages- what it would have was five heavily armed thugs with eager trigger fingers... The good things was that all of the commotion in the back was drawing their attention... for now.
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Jorge
As soon as the detective moved through the lobby of the store, he quickly spied the five gunmen who were interested in some very large commotion in the back. The second that he had come into the building, he heard the explosion, heard the screams, and assumed that Firearm was up to some more dangerous activity. But the appearance of the five heavily armed gunmen only proved to halt their progress. If they went in, gun’s blazing, they were going to be in a lot of trouble, and quite possible alert Firearm to their oncoming presence.
Plus…who was that man who had spoken into the radio? He sounded like he was another one of those vigilantes that were running rampant in the city. While Jorge was all for the help wherever he could get it, something in that man’s voice, some edge in it caused a bit of worry. He didn’t know what it was, but he hoped that that feeling was a false one…
Catching the attention of the police that followed him, Jorge quickly motioned for them to duck down behind some type of cover in order to hide themselves. Luckily the guards were all towards the back of the lobby, looking out and calling if any help was required. With their backs turned, Jorge hid down behind a tipped over table and once again sheath his gun. He gave the motion to the other officers to keep down.
Once they complied, the detective felt out with his senses and immediately locked onto to a decent amount of water nearby. A glance over and he spied the water jug from the building “spring water” dispenser. There was plenty in it for him to manipulate he just had t-
“Hey! I thought we had that door shut tight?” One of the guard’s yelled.
Jorge snapped his attention to the door and sighed. It was still open a slight crackle. Of course they would be able to notice that.
“Check it out, man,” another responded. “We’ll cover ya.”
Jorge closed his eyes and silently cursed as he heard footfalls…coming towards him. Apparently the table he was hiding behind was directly in the path of the person who was coming to check on the door. So much for having the true element of surprise. They were going to have to make this a hard and quick attack if they wanted to make any good of this.
He reached out with his palm and summoned the water to slowly and subtly seep out of the water dispenser. As it deafly spilled onto the ground and slowly began to snake its way toward him, the detective closed his eyes tight and tried very hard to make the water lap up to him quicker. It piled and collected near his feet as he listened to those approaching footsteps get closer…and closer…and closer…
“Well? What’s up?” one of the thugs yelled.
“It’s just a d-“
“Gotcha,” Jorge said as he suddenly leapt up, fist reared back and drove it hard into the man’s cheek.
As the first thug dropped to the ground, Jorge suddenly shot out both his hands and sent the water flying directly from the ground and across the room. A pair of gunmen, his intended targets gasped as a pair of water jets, carrying with it the strength of a fire hose. The water burst across their faces, momentarily blinding and harming them enough to drop their guns and stumble backwards.
The other two guards, though, took notice.
>> "S**T! COPS!"
They raised their own guns to fire at the detective but suddenly, at that moment, the two other men who had joined Jorge stood up and took aim. They screamed for them to drop their weapons, their guns aimed perfectly as they used the distraction to get a drop on the pair of them. Easily out flanked, the gunmen muttered through gritting teeth and dropped their guns. Once they had done so and were cuffed, Jorge dropped the water and proceeded to handcuff the first gunman he had just punched out.
Startled by the sounds of further gunfire, Jorge moved to the back rooms followed by his fellow officers. It sounded like World War III…he hoped it was anything but...
It was hard to get used to getting shot at. One could imagine how odd it was, having someone chase you while popping off an odd device that mostly missed, but would kill you dead in a flash if it hit you in the wrong place- he imagined his medieval kindred spirits in armor first encountering firearms...
He wasn't even sure if the image in his head was historically accurate, but he knew that he had something the knights of yore didn't; High quality steel plate with an unnaturally strong spider-web fiber cloth, and a mutation to back it up. If he couldn't walk out into a hail of gunfire and show the scum of this world that nothing they could do would save them from justice, then he didn't deserve to call himself the Judge. Saph took a few deep breaths as he mentally prepared himself for the very stupid thing he was about to do. Behind his barrier of wall, still being torn up by a hail of gunfire, he stood tall, centered himself, brought up a hand to cover his eye, and stepped on out into the room.
He was quickly reminded why it was so hard to get used to getting shot at. It sucked. The good thing was he found out that his armor worked. With loud TCHINGS! and TCHANGS! bullets were deflected away into the wall behind him. The bad thing was that even though the bullets didn't go into him, they were will hitting him... hard. He stumbled back and struggled to remain standing against the many small impacts against his body. His other half fared better in some ways, and worse in others. Bullets peppered his body, and that goth chicks spider web held up well... Still, even with his ability absorbing the force, he was going to have welts all over his body.
Still, it was all worth it when the men stopped to reload, and he saw the looks on their faces when he ended up not being dead. He grinned under his mask. They were scared.
"Guys! Load the armor piercing rounds!"
Oh... Crap. As quickly as he could the mutant dove behind his cover once more. BRRRRRAKARAKARAKA. Bullets ripped through the wall once more, over his head, and through the wall on the other side as well... He could feel these ones- they were faster, and penetrated deeper into the wall than the others. He wasn't sure his armor stood a chance against them- he made a note to pay attention to what his opponents might be shooting out of their guns in the future. For now, he had other issues. He felt someone coming from the hallway opposite his into the room. A glance showed it to be a what seemed to be a policeman. He moved to seat his back against the wall, and stared across to the growing group of men in blue. They were exactly what he needed.
The second they made themselves known, Saph was going to put the gunmen down for good... And if the Cops tried to do anything stupid like arrest these would-be murderers... Well, he wouldn't let them get in the way of true justice.
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Jorge
They were walking into a warzone. There was little else for the detective to compare what was happening to. As he and the pair of officers whom followed him into the building headed down the hall, their ears were immediately assaulted by the sounds of gunfire. For a moment, as he and his men pressed himself back against the walls of the hallway, he thought that the firing was being done against them. But, seeing as there were no chips of wall missing, no bullet holes in the plaster, and no shouts that there were cops, he figured that they were not the intended targets. It was only as the gunfire died down again that Jorge waved for the officers to press on with him.
Stepping down into the hall, Jorge opened his ears, attempting to catch anything that could lead him to the identity of who it was that was being fired upon. Were Firearm’s men beginning to panic? Turning on each other? He doubted it. But as he walked on, he remembered that gruff, strange voice that had announced its presence over his radio:
"In 30 seconds, there will be a loud noise within the jewelry store. It should distract them. Be ready to storm in. Don't F*%^ up..."
Whoever that was…they must have caught onto him. Damn vigilantes always running into these situations with their guns half raised. They were all going to get themselves killed like that. He didn’t know what this guy’s problem was, but running up against someone like Firearm without back-up was definitely suicide, whatever his mutation may be (if he even was one).
Jorge could only utter a soft prayer that they would not find this psycho’s bullet-riddled body lying in a bloody heap on the ground. From the sound of the gunfire, it was obvious that these guys were not done with him yet.
“Please,” he muttered to himself. “Save some for us.”
Coming to the end of the hallway that opened into a larger area, he spied the hallway across from him and swore he saw someone leaning back against the wall. But there was another flare of gunfire against the hall and Jorge lost whoever was there in the cloud of kicked up debris. Whoever these guys were, they were serious about ending the life of whoever this vigilante was.
Hopefully they could provide some obviously much needed assistance.
Leaning his back against the edge of the hall, Jorge motioned for his men to stay back. Gun held at the ready, Jorge cleared his throat as he barely leaned out and shouted at the top of his lungs.
“This is the NYPD!! Put your guns down, now! Or we will open fire!” he yelled as he quickly ducked back in behind the wall.
BRRRRRAAKAKA TATT TATTT TATA!
Chunks of wall sprayed and broke into tiny clouds of debris directly where his face was moments ago. The detective closed his eyes and remained calm as he waited for the gunfire to die down. They had obviously given their answer to his threat. So the only recourse of action left for this marksman/police officer was…
He leaned out once that last shot was fired.
Raised his gun.
Took aim.
Squeeze. KA-BLAM![/b] Squeeze. KA-BLAM!
Two shots rang out from his own gun as he leaned out just enough for his raised gun and his eyesight. It only took him a fraction of a second to take aim and squeeze the trigger. Two bullets tore through the air, cutting through anything in their path. The first bullet missed, lodging itself into an upturned table. The second though, that one tore straight through the soft flesh of a man’s shoulder and obliterated the bone hidden within.
A scream was shouted in reply to Jorge’s actions and the detective sighed as he took another calming breath and pressed himself once more against the wall. There was another volley of gunfire in his direction, though with one less gunman. That particular man was now withering on the floor, unable to raise his gun with his now crippled arm.
Posted by Saphirus on Aug 28, 2011 13:52:54 GMT -6
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"This is the NYPD!! Put your guns down, now! Or we will open fire!"
Saph watched. WATCHED while the cops, when presented with a chance to really get the drop on these lowlifes, announced themselves!. really? REALLY, NYPD? That was why he couldn't work with them. They thought these idiots would bow down to the law. They would rather let them escape than put them in body bags where they belonged. His point was proven as one of the cops aimed from the cover while the criminals reloaded again, and shot one in the shoulder... He felt the whole thing- the first bullet hitting the wall, uselessly, and the second stopping. A quick glance, unimpeded by bullets as they seemed to have forgotten about him, showed that the cop hadn't aimed for a kill shot. Of course he hadn't.
"Amateurs..." He grumbled in a low voice, and then dove from his cover, snatching up his hammer from his earlier victim's body, yanking it free, and then flinging it at the downed criminal. He had a lot of force gathered from getting shot a whole bunch. That hammer was the last thing the scumbag ever saw. "If you're going to do a job... Make sure it's finished." Now that the momentum of the fight had shifted, The Judge had little remorse in moving headlong into the hail of gunfire- they were most likely out of armor piercing rounds by now, right? A deflected shot from his metal mask proved him right... Still, he couldn't take all of these shots for long... That was why he'd saved the ace up his sleeve for now... As the gunfire focused on him reached it's apex, his hand shot out, and he concentrated with all of his might... The bullets flying at him suddenly froze in the air for a moment... hot damn, it worked! His other hand lashed out repeatedly as the bullets fell, sending many of them right back to their destinations... Two men fell, riddled with bullets... Saph had opened up a side. He used the rest of his energy from having a few clips of ammo loaded into him to leap straight from his position, out through the hole that Firearm had made.
Let the cops deal with those last chumps. Saph was after the real trophy... The man in charge. And he would sit comfortably in a jail cell over The Judge's dead body. He was gonna send this man straight to hell.
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Apr 23, 2024 22:22:33 GMT -6
Jorge
Jorge leaned back against the protective wall of the hallway and closed his eyes. Debris , dust, plaster all showered around his face as he breathed calmly. The detective was fairly used to being shot at. It was a normal part of his life. Not that he thought he was invulnerable or anything. Obviously he did not want to purposely walk out into the hall and be riddled with bullets, but the man knew how to keep his cool in the face of it. He did not lose his cool, nor did his life flash before his eyes. Instead, the detective calmly stared at the darkness behind his eyes and waited for the noise to die down.
When a silence seemed to finally settle around him and there was the distinct smell of gunfire and dirt in the air, Jorge finally reopened his eyes and glanced out the side. That was when he heard the screaming and saw the apparent vigilante work.
Jorge could not exactly see what was happening. What he could make out was that the man believed he was bulletproof. Even with the armor he wore, the detective knew that those bullet strikes still had to dent and hurt. But before he could run out at aide him, the thugs seemingly screamed out as something riddled their body and sent them down into bloodied heaps on the ground. Then, as if the man believed he were some Olympic champion, leapt through a hole torn into the back of the store’s wall.
“You’ve got to be effing me,” he snarled to himself as he peeked out once more, raised his gun and very cautiously stepped out into the room.
It was all deathly silent. There was not a single sound emanating from the fallen thugs. The only one that still seemed to be alive was the man whose shoulder he plugged with a bullet. Jorge could hear his groans from behind a counter.
Slowly he moved forward and watched the rest of the officers to follow him. As they did, he checked all corners before he finally moved to the fallen man’s aid.
“Oh god! J-Just arrest me! Please! Don’t let him get me!!” the man screeched the second he saw Jorge and the two officers. “He’s crazy! He killed Frank! Smashed his head in with a hammer!!”
Jorge arched a brow but said nothing in response. At first he thought that maybe that he was talking about Firearm but it quickly became apparent that he was not. Instead the man must have been referring to whoever that psycho of a vigilante was. That was definitely not good. It only meant that he was dealing with a far more unstable man that he first figured.
This in mind, Jorge nodded to the two officers to come and arrest this man as well as check for other survivors. He then set his eyes on the large hole at the back of the building and dashed for it. He was a man that was thankful for vigilante assistance…but not a murderers. He was hauling both their butts into jail…
Posted by Saphirus on Aug 29, 2011 11:47:18 GMT -6
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Apr 16, 2021 19:54:07 GMT -6
Puck
Saph came to a roll in the middle of the street, landing in a kneeling position, his eyes trained on the very same criminal he'd just vowed to kill as he shoved a hostage into the back of his van, ordered one of his men to do the same, and got in the back. They slammed the doors quickly, and Firearm screams. "STEP ON IT!" The car was having a little trouble starting, though... This was his chance.
He looked back to make sure the cops hadn't made it through the hole quite yet- he didn't want them to see him hobbling, as that would make him linkable to the Masochist. He decided he would have to walk if he wanted to be 100% safe.
Clank. Clank. Clank. He made his way toward the van as the driver looked at him with an alarmed look on his face. The man cranked the engine once, twice... nothing. The Judge got closer. Once again! Nothing. The Judge got closer. One last time!
TTTCHUGACHUGACHUGA. IT worked! The van shot off. The driver looked into the rear view... Nothing... Oh thank god.
The Judge grinned under his mask as he tightened his grip on the back of the van... He was happy there weren't any windows on the doors, It made hitching a ride much easier... Now, to climb up on top.
As the detective left the back of the building, a cop car skid to a stop next to him. The drive rolled down the window. "The suspects are fleeing! Get in!" The van rounded the corner, the armored vigilante visible waving bye to the cop car as it went.
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Apr 23, 2024 22:22:33 GMT -6
Jorge
Jorge ran for all his might. His feet struck the debris littered ground hard as he dashed for the large gap that someone, more than likely Firearm, had blown into the back of the building. Also through there ran the wayward vigilante/murderer who was taking a bit too much of the law into his own hands. Jorge still did not know what he was going to do when he caught up with the both of them, but if there was one that, it was that he was not going to be playing favorites. Killers are killers, plain and simple. He upheld the law and the law stated that he needed to chase down any fools who purposefully claimed lives and make sure they faced a jury of their peers.
Upon reaching the gap, the detective heard the sound of a van kicking over and finally revving down the empty alley and into the street beyond. A string of explicatives flew from his mouth as he leapt through and found himself in the alleyway. Down, at the street, he watched as the van roared away with that same vigilante hanging onto to the back of it and waving at him as if he were a chump.
“No, no, come on!!” the detective roared as he watched it disappear down the corner.
He breathed a heavy sigh and growled. He was about to pull out his phone when the roar of another engine appeared behind him. Turning, he spied another officer’s car as he came to a stop next to Cervantes.
>> "The suspects are fleeing! Get in!"
“Jenkins,” Jorge announced as he pulled open the car door and climbed in. “You are so getting a raise for this. GO!”
As he shouted, Jenkins slammed his foot down onto the pedal and tore off after Firearm’s van, which the stowaway vigilante attached to the back. Jenkins’ expertly drove out into the street and followed the speeding van while Jorge grabbed the officers radio and called in the chase. He was not going let them get away, he couldn’t. And it was not because of the Firearm or the vigilante…there were civilians in that van. Their safety was all he cared about at the moment.
****
Meanwhile, in the unmarked van that tore through the streets of New York, Firearm snarled to himself as he sat in the passenger seat, glaring out at the open city before him. This whole heist was in shambles, all because one those stupid cashiers had tripped the silent arm. He made her pay though. There was no way she survived that napalm blast at close range. At most the police would find would be a disintegrating glob of ooze that used to be a young, blonde woman. Her death also proved to the rest of the hostages who were behind him that he was not someone to toy around him. There was no forgetting that look on her face, nor the smell of her dying body. Anyone who stepped in his way…was going to die.
But still…they should have gotten away with more! He slammed his fist into the dashboard of the van like a teenager going into a tantrum. Again and again he slugged the hard plastic console until finally the pain from his grinding teeth forced him to stop and take a breath.
“I swear I’m going to take down that whole police department myself! And what happened to the rest of the guys!!” he screamed.
“Last they radioed in, someone mentioned something about, the Judge.” His driver meekly said, trying not to put himself into the line of fire.
Firearm snarled as he pounded the console again. “That sonavab-“ he bit his lip and growled. “I’ve had enough of his butt too! I should have napalmed him back there when I had the chance…”
Saph loved the feeling of zooming about at high speeds. He could feel the whole world around him at once as it rushed past. Every lamplight, person drinking a cup of joe, every parked car or trashcan... he felt all of it as if they were part of him; as if he was a part of this city, and this city was a part of him.
That was why he needed to protect it. This city was the body, and he was the white blood cell.
The Judge snapped to reality as they rounded another corner. The grip of his right hand allowed him to cheat a little bit when it came to holding on; all of the kinetic energy trying to trow him off was soaked up greedily. The experienced vigilante pulled himself up the door and finally up onto the top of the vehicle, clinging to a rack on the top meant for holding maintenance materials. The Judge always thought it was amazing, how scum could repurpose something as necessary as a maintenance vehicle into something used for evil. It was as if nothing was sacred when applied to their tainted morals. They were viruses, infecting other cells to spread their filth.
He made sure his grip was solid, and looked back to the cop car following them. Another was approaching from the side-
VWOOOOOMPH-CRASH!
A ball of plasma crashed into the hood, causing it to explode. The Judge glared beneath his mask... He didn't see eye to eye with the police, sure, but he still held their lives sacred, just as any citizen- they were set in place to uphold the law, just like him... They just didn't do it right.
His free hand moved to the radio strapped to him. "Three dead men, two hostages... Are you ready?"
The back of the van suddenly burst open, and a man with a machine gun, with two helpless hostages in front of him, opened fire on the cop car following them. Considering the swerving van, his aim wasn't great; that gave the Judge time to crawl up the van without having to worry too much about the cops dying while he took his sweet time.
The vigilante pulled himself to the windshield, looking up to the street ahead, and timing it just... right... CRASH! He smacked his left hand down on the windshield, sending high velocity shards of glass into the driver's eyes. What he did next was... very risky.
As the driver freaked out and stepped on the gas instead of the break, Saph rolled down the length of the van, grabbing the edge and using the momentum to swing down through the back door, and send a boot right into the face of the holder of the hostages.
Firearm let out a loud. "WHAT THE F-" Just in time for Saph to grab the two hostages, dive from the back of the high speed vehicle before it crashed into the corner of an alleyway.
The Judge landed in a roll, careful not to let the hostages get hurt too bad. He got pretty banged up, though... Not enough to keep him from willing himself to his feet to check on the hostages as quickly as he could. "Are you okay? Are you okay?!" They both gave shocked nods, and he left them to the cops; he would need the distraction.
With a steady clank he walked up to the car... It was smashed into the alleyway in such a position that the hull blocked off the way completely, the drivers side was facing the outside, and the passenger was facing the inside. The drivers side was occupied by a very dead man.
The other side was empty. Saph ripped off the side mirror, and hopped up onto the hood, sauntering over it in a relaxed stroll. The police were nearing... he could hear the sirens. Good. He wanted them to be close. He wanted them to see true justice. He hopped down into the alley, landing softly on his right foot.
There he saw the man he'd been after... Firearm was crawling away on all fours, trying to stand, but having trouble... It looked like his leg was broken... Perfect.
"Firearm, was it?" The man froze for a second, and then spun, aiming his arm at his pursuer. "ILL KILL YOU, YOU SICK F^%&!" His hand turned into a cannon, and he laughed in victory as he prepared to unleash a point blank, full powered shot.
But it didn't happen. Allofasudden there was a side mirror flying at him at a simply unreal speed. It crashed into his hand and then traveled up through his arm, which popped, and then crackled loudly.
A scream of pain echoed from the ally that was enough to make one feel sympathy for even the lowest forms of filth. Saph didn't feel it. He walked right on up to the man, who pulled out a pistol and began unloading the clip in his direction. Most of the shots missed. Some hit, The vigilante didn't care. He was too beat up to care.
"Your bullets won't work on me... Nothing you try will kill me. I am not a human being, I am a force of nature. I am the very thing which you chose to ignore. Order. I am your Judge. I am your Jury. And I will be your executioner." As he spoke he kicked the gun from the man's hand, grabbed him by the hair, and dragged him toward the other side of the alley. Who ever was in charge on the cop's side, he wanted them to see this, but he also didn't have any desire to get caught.
Finally, he hauled the struggling man up to his knees, and stood behind him. With his hand he formed a mock pistol, and placed it at the back of the man's head. The man blubbered all of the pleas for mercy that he could...
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Apr 23, 2024 22:22:33 GMT -6
Jorge
Jorge and Jenkins watched the van up ahead peel through the streets of New York as if they had the Devil himself on their tails. Maybe in fact they did. The vigilante was hanging onto their car but it seemed as if it were the easiest thing for him to do. Jorge knew that man had to be a mutant of some type, but whatever his power was…he had no clue. Instead he remained resolute in the fact that this man was a murderer. He killed those thugs back there, many of which were probably begging for their life beforehand.
He did not care how good the intention, no one has the right to take a life in any name of vigilante justice. He shook his head as he watched the van, as it weaved in an out of traffic, they were closing in the vehicle. A glance to the right and he saw the flash red and blue lights of another squad car coming to join in the fight. He was thankful for the swift response of the rest of the precinct.
All they had to do was get this van into a more secluded place so that no one else got hurt when they—
VWOOOOOMPH-CRASH![/b]
The detective’s eyes widened. He did not think that he could be so shocked in one sitting and still be alive. He sat there, in shock and dismay, as the van suddenly fired out a familiar looking, ball of blazing plasma that struck the new police car. The burst as the napalm struck the roof and ooze and caught aflame everything that was situated on top. The lights, the paint covering the roof, everything that was underneath it was soon on fire and that quickly raced down into the front and passenger seat below.
Jorge could not bring himself to look at the squad car and it veered off course and crashed into the side of a building. He ground his teeth as he glared ahead. He wanted Firearm’s head now.
Instead what he got in response was the sight of an opening backdoor that framed the appearance of a machine gun armed thug with hostages. A curse fell from his lips as he ducked down and forced Jenkins lower into his seat as well.
The machine gun fire was deafening as Jorge felt the few bullets that hit vibrate throughout the vehicle. This was extremely dangerous since not only could they barely see where they were going, innocent bystanders could definitely be harmed in the crossfire. But it seemed as if the erratic gunfire did not last much longer. He cautioned a peek up just in time to see some commotion cause the vehicle to swerve uncontrollably before the masked vigilante came tumbling backwards and into the van where he rescued two of the hostages. Jenkins, as if sensing what was going to come neck, swerved and Jorge watched as the van came to a devastatingly halting crash.
On the street, Jorge watched as the vigilante aided the two fallen people but as he turned his attention back to the road ahead of him, he had barely enough time to watch as Jenkins slammed on the brakes. The screech of the van deafened his ears and the hard THUD and CRUNCH that followed momentarily robbed him of his breath. For a moment, only a moment, he was dazed, but as he refocused, he glanced over to see that Jenkins was now coming out of it.
The pair of officers vacated their vehicle and, even with slightly fuzzy heads, dashed over to the fallen hostages. They seemed okay, thank goodness. But as Jorge nodded to his fellow officer to call it in, he turned and headed directly for the vehicle itself. One glance into the back and he could see that none of the men that were inside were alive…but none of them were Firearm. On top of that, there was no sign of the vigilante. But the sudden sound of gunfire drew his attention.
Gun pulled from its holster, Jorge squeezed past the van and dashed into the alley. As he did he stumbled upon both his targets. One of which was on his knees whimpering.
Jorge kept the gun raised and hovered his finger against the trigger as he eyed the masked vigilante and the whimpering Firearm.
“Help me! This freak is nuts!!” Firearm shouted.
Jorge narrowed his eyes at the man before he turned his attentions back to the vigilante.
“Yo man, you have enough blood on your hands,” Jorge announced as he kept his gun trained. “Just step away from him. Fight is over. He’s not going anywhere.”
It wasn't a long wait. He had to give it to this particular guy in blue... He was the same one who got that shot off at the guy inside while being barraged by bullets, wasn't he? Sure, he was soft just like all of the other cops, but at least he was in control of himself. He smiled just a little under his mask when the cop raised his weapon and told him to let the man go.
"You know I can't do that. As long as there are people out there willing to kill for their own gain, I will never have enough blood on my hands. You saw it. All of these men were willing to shoot at police men... Think what they would do to anyone who wasn't able to fight back. No. I would be failing as a citizen if I didn't strike the fear of god into each and every one of them. If that makes me the villain in the end... Then so be it."
Firearm was mumbling the whole time... blubbering on about how he was a changed man, how he needed to be saved from this psychopath... "C--- Copper... Arrest me. I'll go to jail! Just... PLEASE!" The Judge gave him a shake to silence him, and practically growled. "You would like to sit in a jail cell, wouldn't you. That's how it is, though... Sick men get to kill and maim innocents, and what do they get? Life in a place that feeds them and lets them out to walk. We suffer and they get turned into F#$%@ing PETS. NO... No more. Justice will prevail."
The metal clad man stepped his boot into the back of Firearm's knee so he couldn't struggle away, and looked down upon him. The cop was still a good distance away... Too far away to jump in and intervene. The rest were still pretty far away, too. If he wanted to try to stop them, he would have to shoot. He doubted that would do much " Name: Firearm. Crimes: Theft, kidnapping... Murder. Verdict: Guilty. Sentence: Death."
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Apr 23, 2024 22:22:33 GMT -6
Jorge
Both these men were certifiable. Jorge could see that. The vigilante seemed to have every intention of killing the criminal who remained on his knees in front of him. The detective did not flinch though. He kept his gun trained on the pair of them, his watchful, experienced eyes looking for anything that could either end this stand-off peacefully, or with a call to the coroner. Jorge did not want to kill either of these men, that simply was not his style. But he was not about to let either of them continue to commit murder anymore.
But as he stood there, announced his ultimatum, and had a gun aimed squarely at the pair of them…the vigilante refused to heed the call. Instead he gave him the same tired excuses he always heard.
Jorge knew full well the flaws in the system, and he was not at all surprised by the tirade with which he heard. Whoever this vigilante was, he had the idea nestled safely in his head to kill every last criminal he came across. The detective did not know this stemmed from some past trauma or whether he simply just ran around with a delusion in his head, but Jorge knew there would be no reasoning with him. As much as he wanted that man to listen to reason, reason had completely abandoned him.
>> "C--- Copper... Arrest me. I'll go to jail! Just... PLEASE!"
>> "You would like to sit in a jail cell, wouldn't you. That's how it is, though... Sick men get to kill and maim innocents, and what do they get? Life in a place that feeds them and lets them out to walk. We suffer and they get turned into F#$%@ing PETS. NO... No more. Justice will prevail."
He heard it all before. Back in Miami there was a psycho who ran around, calling himself the Preacher. He was a mutant who was attempting to cleanse the earth of all those who were criminals in his eyes. And that was the problem with this line thinking. As good as the intentions are, where are the lines drawn? Sure he takes a criminal off the streets. But what’s to keep such vigilantism from taking the life of an innocent bystander who just happened to be with the wrong people at the wrong time? That’s what happened in Miami. Bruce Bale was still paying the price for his role in cleansing the world from sin.
And he was not going to allow such a thing to repeat here.
“Let. Him. Go,” Jorge growled as the steady barrel of the gun he held was aimed directly at the vigilante’s chest. “Release him or I will open fire.”
It was partially a bluff. Jorge did not want to kill anyone. But, he would fire if he had to. And seeing as how the vigilante was not going to take the bait, Jorge decided that a fall back plan was necessary. He felt out with his sense, grabbed ahold of the nearest source of water and began to summon it towards him. The sewer grates that lined the alley subtly began to bubble up with water. Before Jorge knew it water was rolling down the concrete and began to roll and pour between the both the vigilante and Firearm.
“Noo!!” Jorge screamed and flung up one of his hands. As he did so, the water that had begun to pool swiftly flew to his attention. The surge of water churned and rose into a quick wall of bubbly liquid, one that attempted to separate predator from prey. Jorge only hoped that it would serve as enough of a distraction.
