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.
Liz! That is NOICE! I absolutely LOVE IT! So much so that I want to steal your brain and absorb your powers of creativity! Just awesomesauce! Thank you!! *huggles!!*
A roar of cheering when up into the air as the Ice-Eyes mutant attempted to freeze the bear right in its tracks. Its fur was matted and dotted with little specks of ice scattered about. In areas where the ice began to melt the fur was soaked and beginning to stick together. But if the bear noticed it, it did not seem to mind. Instead there was a bloodlust in its eyes as it attempted another powerful swipe of its paw at the opponent. The mutant was fast as he ducked down, but as he turned to gloat towards the crowd, he left himself open.
A bear’s jaws can bite down pretty damn hard. The force behind it can shatter a man’s bones into dust, leaving only gravelly bits to float around inside the human body. The pain that Ice-Eyes must as felt as the bear snapped its jaws into the back of his skull must has been excruciating for that second he was alive enough to feel it.
Fur dyed blood red, the bear continued to bite down on the creature that harmed it so much, driven by rage, confusion and whatever strange chemicals another mutant had injected into it. Its only thought was to kill, feel no pain, then kill some more. It was rabid, to say the least.
The bear’s jaws continued to tightening until that sickening crunch reached such a volume that there was no contest who had won.
Vicente grinned as he clapped, having placed his bet on the bear. Half the room cheered with him, while the other half groaned and grumbled about losing money on the stupid mutant. The assassin could only grin at their misfortune and his gain…when he suddenly spied that face from mere moments ago. The kid still managed to slip in.
The old man growled as he turned his attention to the next fight that was being set up and ignored the girl as she slid onto the stool next to him.
>> "The same for me…an' another round for him."
THUNK!
The movement was so fast that no one, not even the bartender saw it. Within a second of the girl’s voice hitting his ears, Vicente had pulled his blade from his pocket, twirled in expertly in his hand and stuck it fast into the seat of the wooden stool, right between “Megan’s” knees. If she had been a boy, she would have instantly become a girl in that fraction of a second.
Teeth bared, Vicente edged closer to the girl and glared at her straight in the eye as the bartender poured them both their shots of tequila. His hand still on the handle of the blade that was jammed into her seat. His anger at being already irritated was beginning to get the best of him as his eyes began to shift of a predatory golden before instantly shifting back. He needed to stay in control or he was going to rip her apart in front of everyone.
“Chica…” he muttered. “I suggest…you find a seat elsewhere. Will be good for your health.”
>> "Y'know, the reason children are not allowed is to protect them from violence an' your lily ass from the police, so messin' me up kinda would defeat the purpose. Also, I'm past 18 now, I ain't no kid. And, lost, but not least - I. Ain't. Wearing. Make-up…It's okay…I'm with him."
God the arrogance! The BSing! It was enough for the doorman to want to knock her teeth in with his baseball bat and leave her out in the alley in a bloodied mess. The man was already irritated at having that old man show him up and now this girl was going to give him the business? He was so lit and angry at the whole incident that he was ready to take out every last bit of aggression on the young teenager…
…then she mentioned she was with the guy who had just walked in and threatened him with the knife.
Seriously? He questioned himself, question her, unable to grasp the idea that she was really with him. He did see them speaking to each other but he was busy looking for a first aide kit for his neck. None of their conversation was heard so he could not verify if she was telling the truth or not. If she wasn’t, he could def kick her out. But…if she was…well, he really did not want to be on the other end of that man’s blade again. He just…didn’t.
With growl he grunted and nodded down the hall. “Whatever. Tell your old man to keep those knives sheathed!”
With that he turned back to his crossword puzzling after closing the door behind the teenage girl.
****
Vicente was ready to let the matter from before drop. The kid had simply been curious, probably heard some news about this place from the streets and wanted to get in. Whatever the reason, he didn’t care. She was gone and he was left alone to enjoy a drink and maybe a good show or two. Hell, maybe he’d even join in. He heard these bouts could be pretty tough, but he doubted they were much tougher than him.
With a sigh, he reached the end of the hall and arrived at a set of metal stairs that led down below the building. From there he heard the screams and cheers of people betting, drinking and laughing, as well that the guttural grunts of battling happening. The stale smell of the smoke in the air mixed along with the alcohol stench was heaven for the assassin as he began to climb down the stairs.
As each of his footsteps clanged on the steps, he heard the sounds of cheering increase. It was not until he got to the bottom that he finally saw what was going on. Amidst the open expanse of what used to be a massive basement floor, he saw several tables were set up on two levels. People around them were clamoring and drinking, while, situated on the bottom floor and in a fenced, metal dome, was the area. Inside he spied what looked like…a grizzly bear fighting with what he could only assume was a mutant who could make ice appear from his eyes.
Vicente arched a brow as he walked into the scene. His feet resounding on the meshed ground as he headed over to the bar, dodging a plethora of hookers, dealers, and thieves. Once at the bar, he slammed down some money and nodded to the bartender.
“Patron, silver,” was all he said as he waited for his shot. He then turned in his seat, his hand tucked into his pocket where his knife was as he sat watching the bear suddenly snap its jaws tight on the mutant’s shoulder. He laughed out as she clapped. The entertainment was just beginning.
>> "Falcone and Wayne both actually. They both owe me a few so I get first crack at any of their jobs. Wayne pays better but Falcone gives jobs more often. With how much dirt she was getting from sniffing around it's no wonder they got jumpy."
He nodded. It made sense now. No wonder both assassins were hired to this gig when he was hired by Corinth. Word was that the Corinth family as making sloppy moves now that the head of their family was busy attempting to fend off tax charges. It is entirely possible that both the other crime families had wanted to make sure they wouldn’t mess up. Vicente was new to the city, but the man knew how to do his homework. Falcone and Wayne were at the top now and there was not going to be room for Corinth for much longer. But the man shed no crocodile tears for the dying family. How does the saying go? Out with the old, in with the new? Only the strongest survive? Etc. Etc.
Still though, he did not want this evening to go to a complete waste. He should earn something.
A glance to the woman, with the gun she held loosely in her hand, and Vicente knew that she was dangerous. But it was the smile that threw him. Maybe she was altogether psychotic. It made the most sense, but he definitely could not let her get away with all the cash.
Vicente nodded to the woman and she stood, seemingly waiting for him to decide what he was going to do next. They could both either go down into a blaze of glory or attempt to at least try to respect each other fellow assassins who just happened to be booked at the same price.
A brow arched and he grinned at the younger lady.
“So, I believe I should be cut in on this,” he said matter-of-factly. “After all, I did take care of these body guards. And, it isn’t my fault this target was double booked. Besides, cut me in this time, I won’t step into your game again and show you up.” He was boastful, arrogant, but there was an edge to his voice that proved him right. He was only trying to be fair, after all.
Vicente did not like the mischevious look of the girl. She was sly, quick, agile. Anyone else would have run for it, screamed and taken off into the night. Especially a kid, but for some reason she was trying to “charm” him. It was definitely not going to work though. Instead his scowl only deepened when she did not run and tried to explain why she was following him in the first place.
>> "I've got a dad who points a gun at me instead of sayin' hello…Name's Megan. I'm doin' the same as you are. Goin' to see the fight…You come here often? 'cause I don' really know my way around..."
Eyebrow arched, Vicente only glared at the girl all the more closely. She was attempting to feed him bull and he knew it. Whoever she was really thought that she had a silver tongue but he had not problem proving it was just as red as anyone else’s. As a matter of fact he really wanted an excuse to do it, unfortunately though there was no need to draw unfavorable attention to himself. Gutting teen in some underground fight club was definitely not going to look favorable on him. So instead, he did the only thing that was left for him to do in this situation…
…he turned on his heel and ignored her.
“Run back home, kid. Play with your dollies.” he said with a condescending tone and headed down the dark, dimly lit hallway. As he walked, he sheathed his blade once more and shook his head. “Stupid kids,” was all he muttered as he spat off to the side.
The guard, still checking his neck to make sure that he had not been cut too deeply, sighed and growled as he snapped his attention to “Megan”. She was someone he could definitely handle and he was do so extremely, especially after being embarrassed by the older man who had just threatened and slipped down into the underground club. Slamming his hands on his desk and standing, the guard pointed an accusing finger the girl.
“You! No children allowed!” he said angrily as he pulled as baseball bat from under his desk. He slammed it into his open palm a couple of times before he pointed to the door behind her. “Get the hell out of here before I rearrange that pretty face of yours and smear your make-up.”
Mission accomplished. Vicente was about to leave, the proof of the kill in his pocket (the wedding band and engagement ring of Angela Baklava), when suddenly the second assassin decided to make themselves known…scratch that…HERself. So...first of all Vicente had some experience in the world of assassins. It should not have surprised him as much as it did that the second killer had been a female. Sometimes the female ones would be the most bloodied and the most calculated, at least in his experiences.
Worst of all though was the attitude. They loved to be the brick wall, the coldhearted beast that could challenge any man in the same field.
Whatever, Vicente always thought. A killer was a killer. Didn’t matter the gender, if they had it in them to willing take another living beings life for money, then they were in a league that transcended the sexes. Apparently that was what Vicente stared at as the woman boldly walked up.
>> "So nice of you to collect my proof for me. Well, part of it anyway…I like to be thorough you see and some clients take wanting their enemies' head literally."
He said nothing, but instead watched her closely, standing perfectly still and letting no emotion show on his face. She was thorough, he’d give her that. She quickly found the bullet that had ended the target’s life and was already ushering back, making all trace of herself vanish. He was right, she was cold, heartless…but what was with the smile? He simply couldn’t figure it. Then he saw her remove the bonesaw from her bag and prattle on a on about some of her employer’s wants.
Once the deed was done, Vicente found himself slowly and grudgingly offering the woman a little bit of respect. She was efficient and did not flinch. Maybe he wouldn’t kill her…not yet anyways.
As he eyed the gun in her hand his grip on the handle of his blade tightened before slowly beginning to relax. She was a killer, so was he. Businesses clashed, apparently double bookings on targets were made, this was going to cost the both of them a lot of money. He knew the math. By all rights he should make that grinning smile of her permanent…
A twirl of the blade…and Vicente suddenly sheathed it back into his belt. His hair wiped up in the gentle off pier breeze as he eyed the woman up and down. It was a few seconds before he finally spoke. Though his blade was sheathed, he still kept his hand on the handle…just a in case. There was little loyalty among killers.
“Hate double bookings,” he grinned wide. “Care to at least tell which family it was? Falcone? Wayne? Corinth?” he shrugged. “Just want to know who has the best price range.”
Vicente was not going to be scared off by the other assassin. As a matter of fact, it was more than likely because of her talents that he would stick around the city and see what else she could do. It always paid to know the competition.
The shifting of the air, the silent yet noticeable changes in the way sound echoed in the small room, even the smell, Vicente caught all of it and that was why he spun so fast with his blade. Someone was following too close and he definitely did not like that. Maybe it was simply the paranoia from his years of killing for a living, or it could have been the fact that of his entire cartel from back in Texas, he was the only one who had evaded capture, whatever the reason the man did not care to shadowed. It put him on edge more than anything and made him more likely to slit a man’s throat first and ask questions later.
His blade sang out as it sliced through the air, cutting down invisible foes along the way. But as he turned to face his stalker, his blade striking out, all he caught in its sharpened point was more air. His strike was dodged but as he recoiled to strike again, he glanced down to see the young lady twisted back in such a way that she looked as if she would snap in half.
>> "Oh sh..."
Brows furrowed in confusion, Vicente snarled deeply as he stood up straight to his imposing height, twirled his blade in hand kept it clenched tight within his fists.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded. “What is it that you want?”
To anyone Vicente was an intimidating man, especially with a knife in his hand. And to be honest it was rare that he had even taken the moment to ask the young lady who she was. Normally people would not get that luxury. Instead something major would have been severed and the questioning commenced after that. Apparently though, Vicente was in a good mood so he did not immediately ram the blade through someone’s chest. Instead he stood there, practically snarling more as he glared at the intruder.
“You have five seconds to speak up,” he demanded and held the blade loosely in his hand. In anticipation he twirled it between is fingers expertly and continued to glare. “Unless, of course, you want to start taking off your fingers and ask you again when I get to your thumbs?”
Vicente mouth turned into a smirk as he stepped back a second to stare at the door that opened in front of him. Hands tucked into his coat pockets, the man was calm as he waited. When the door was all the way open, he nodded to guard who sat in a stool on the other side, counting the money collected from people who had entered. Behind him there, Vicente was blinded by the gleam of a mirror that reflected back in his eyes. Obviously that was used to keep an extra eye on those who had entered so no one surprised the guard with a weapon of any sort.
The hitman said nothing as he began to walk forward. There were a couple blades attached to his belt, but he kept a smaller, special one inside of his coat pocket. Just for emergencies. It was always good to keep things ready just in case.
“Yo, yo,” the guard said as he stood up. He was a tall, muscle bound, dark skinned man who wearing an extremely cheap pinstripe suit and a small hat on his large head. The rose in the lapel of his suit proved that the man had a higher opinion of himself than should ever be given. “You new in these parts?”
“Who wants to know?” Vicente responded with his gravel-like voice.
“All weapons are checked at the door, man.” The guy said as he stood to his full height. Unfortunately that was still under Vicente’s impressive stature.
Vicente said nothing for a second and instead seemed like he was going to get ready to pull any weapons he had from his coat. But…instead of doing so, he showed just how quickly the older assassin could be. Faster than could really be seen, the man’s hand pulled free from the pocket of his coat and, in a flash of steel in the dimly lit alleyway, he had had the point of his knife prodding a vein in the man’s neck. The guard blinked, unable to believe how precise and quick that move was. Instantly he put his hands in the air.
Vicente grinned wide as he nodded to him. “I don’t believe you found any weapons on me, did you?”
“N-No sir,” the man stammered and nodded his head. “Enjoy the show.”
The assassin’s eyebrow arched as he nodded then, after one more poke as a reminder of his place, he put the blade back into his pocket. Adjusting his coat, Vicente started to walk in. His eyes then drifted to the mirror that reflected the entire image of the doorway behind him. Was there someone there? He spun fast, teeth bared and hand clenched his blade once more.
Vicente de la Sangre boldly walked the streets of New York, dressed simply in a long black coat, jeans and a black t-shirt underneath. The older assassin grinned, as if he were listening to a silent joke that only he understand. What was so funny was that every person he passed, every man, woman, child, none of them were any the wiser. None knew that he was something to be feared. None of them had the slightest inkling that he could become their worst nightmare if but one person came up with the money to put on his list. It was truly funny to him.
Buttoning his coat, he walked with a determined pace, eyeballing the street numbers and keeping his eye open for any danger. He had done good work so far, so he would spend the evening with some entertainment.
One of the families that had hired him gave him a tip about some underground fighting for the night. It was very brutal, very dangerous, and very illegal. He could not wait. Apparently on top of regular ole human or mutant fighting, there was also supposed to be some bear fighting. That ought to be interesting, especially for the city. How on earth did they get a bear around in silence?
It was a good question, but considering Vicente’s background, he knew exactly how it could be done. He used to work for the Lobos back in Texas. They peddled about every type of vice imaginable in their cities, so he knew how the underground operated. There were ways to do everything and sneaking a few bears into the city would definitely not be hard. This should definitely provide some entertainment for his evening.
As he came up to another dark alley, he spied the street number and knew he was at the right place. Reaching up, he ran his hand down his thick mustache to smooth it out and sauntered straight into the dark. Nothing this city offered scared him.
Seeing no one else about, he nodded to himself as he made way towards the only door. As he did, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and pulled a crisp $20 from its confines. Folding it in half, he leaned down and shoved through the gap underneath the door. Once that was done, he straightened up and knocked loudly on the heavy door.
“Cracked bones.” he whispered the password.
As soon as he did, he heard that heavy click of the door opening and stepped back for it to open all the way. The warm smell of alcohol, heavy smoking, and cheering flowed out into the open air. He grinned to himself as he waited for the door to be open all the way so he could walk in. He was looking forward to at least some relaxing tonight. Hopefully he wouldn’t be bothered.
The sound of metal piercing bone rang through the air and assaulted Vicente’s ears, causing a satisfied grin to creep across his face. He knew his aim was always true so it was of little surprise to him as he peered over the dying man he used as a shield that the second guard was falling to his knees. The blade was embedded deep and there was no way anyone could have survived it. As he collapsed to his side, eyes rolled up towards the sky, Vicente felt the dead weight of his shield begin to sink deeper and deeper into his arms.
It was taking the man long enough to die.
With a grunt, Vicente shoved the man off him and stood there, surveying the scene. For anyone else it would have actually been pretty stupid for him to do this because there was still a sniper on the loose. But the man was not doing to show any fear in this. The sniper had shot straight and true, but he had taken out his target. Another assassin? Had one of the families hired a second gun as insurance? If so…that irritated him a bit.
A snarl on his lips, Vicente looked to see if he could spot where the person was laid out. A good sniper would not be easy to find, so he at least hoped that they hired someone that was good. He was sure that whoever it was had a good view of him. Dressed in his brown, leather vest, rough looking jeans and a belt that had sheaths for knives, as well as a gun holster, he must have looked like some Spanish cowboy straight from the plains of Mexico. But the man was far deadlier than that.
Once more glance around and he saw nothing. Good. He would have hated for the insurance gun-for-hire to have been a novice. Still though, there was one thing that Vicente knew the other assassin was missing in order to collect the money…proof. Unless of course they were going to take the other killer’s word for it. Vicente knew better. Leaning down, the older assassin checked the other’s handiwork. Indeed, Angela was dead…
“But, you won’t be needing these.” He lifted the dead woman’s hand and pried the wedding and engagement rings from her finger. They were inscribed and would make the perfect proof that he was there. He grinned silently to himself as he looked closely at the diamonds, then flashed it briefly in the dark. If the sniper were there, they would definitely see it. A smirk on his face, Vicente pocketed the rings and turned to leave.
Vicente had crept slowly but with a sureness that showed that he was not at all afraid of his targets. The bodyguards were paid pretty boys and the victim was going to be quick kill. It was safe to say that the man was sure he had this in the bag, which was why he was so bold to begin with. The easy way would have been from far away with a sniper rifle, or a bomb underneath the car, but the walking Chimera loved a good hunt and especially loved to be up close and personal. It was the only sure way to make sure that the target had been killed. Leaving it up to distance and bullets was simply being sloppy. Takes guts to do this…and Vicente had plenty of them.
His footfalls silent, his gaze steely, he crept closer and closer while the blade remained loose in his grip, the man was all professional. Briefly illuminated by the rear brake lights, which cast him in a red glow, the assassin edged closer to the nearest bodyguard and raised his blade. All the while he ran through the coming scenario in his head, making sure it was pefect:
“Kill the first guard…disable the second…eliminate the target…then put the second guard out of his misery…”
It was a good plan. It was a perfect “in and out” plan…at least it would have been if it turned out that way.
Just as Vicente edged close enough to finally sink his blade into the large, guard’s neck, a whizzing sound penetrated the air. It was so fast and barely audible, but the man immediately knew what it was…a sniper rifle. His guess was confirmed when Angela Baklava twitched briefly before she fell lifelessly to the ground. Vicente immediately growled at this turn of events, which accidentally alerted his presence.
As the second guard turned to check his protectee, he spied Vicente posed, ready for the strike. A shout of warning went out and the assassin had been made. But it was far too late. As the first bodyguard turned and began to pull his piece from his coat, the hitman was quick sink the blade down to its hilt into the man, immediately severing a plethora of arteries. The man gasps and cringed in pain, but instead of falling to the ground, Vicente was quick to grab him and hold him in front as a human meat shield. The barely struggling guard proved to be enough of a distraction for the second guard was attempting to get a clean shot at Vicente.
“Freeze! We’re taking you in! Drop him, now!”
Vicente grinned, hiding his second blade behind his shield’s back. “Trust me, the only one dropping…is you.”
The movement was only too fast to see. A quick flick of his wrists and his next blade when spinning through the air, aimed directly at the last panicking guard. He could only see the miniscule glint of silver in the dark air as it spun towards him, little realizing it was targeted between his eyes. And Vicente never missed.
Predatory eyes watched from the shadows. Narrowed and focused, they followed the black SUV as it pulled into view, heading towards the Pier 14. The man, the creature, that tracked it was intent on not letting it out of his sight, but at the same time knew that to be spotted was not part of the plan. He would remain, as still as a shadow until the car slowly passed by. It would never know he was there. Instead, he would look like any other dark, creepy corner of this deserted warehouse; completely invisible…completely unseen.
Once the car was passed, the shadowy silhouette of a man finally made its move and began to follow. Sticking to the dark edges, he crept closer as the vehicle slowly pulled to a stop near the assigned pier. The red brake lights illuminated the blackness that attempted to surround it, the rumble of the vehicle’s engine kept back the silence, even the shiny gloss of its recently washed exterior offer tiny sparkles of hope in the night. But all of that could not hold back the malevolent eyes that watched it so closely.
It was just another job, another stomach that needed to be gutted, another check to cash.
Vicente de la Sangre was a killer. But not a psychopath that simply did it for the fun of it and collected nothing. No, he hunted for a living. Every person was no more digits added to his account and this person in the SUV was no different. There was no remorse, no compassion, only targets and the fact that they needed to be eliminated.
But the man was no fool either. He knew how to seek out his victims, he especially knew the perfect scenarios for their demise. And this pier was definitely a perfect scenario. Vicente had surveyed the scene earlier in the day and knew that no one would be in this part of the pier at this time of night. He would be utterly alone with his target so it would work out perfectly. All there was, was a single woman, and maybe two body guards. None of them would ever prove a problem for the experienced hitman.
As he crept closer, his strong, brown skinned hand slowly slipped around the handle of a thick bowie knife he had strapped to his belt. Gently he pulled it free from its sheath with only the quietest of scrapes against the leather. He twirled it gently in his hand as he sat in wait.
Angela Baklava, district attorney for the city, slipped out the back of her SUV with two large, black suited bodyguards. She was apparently causing a stir with the local crime families and had moles in each of their organizations. They could not figure out how she was doing it, but they all knew that they wanted her dead. Vicente, new to these parts but with a reputation that followed him, was contacted. The woman had two teenagers, a baby and a loving husband…
“Pity,” Vicente grumbled as he pulled a second knife free from its sheath. As always…not compassion…no remorse. It was a job.
As Angela stood out in the dark pier, her guards watching her closely, she seemed to be waiting for someone. Vicente, of course, had done his homework and knew that she was waiting for her latest informant. He had been a ferret of a man that would sell his own mother for crisp dollar bill. Plus…he squealed by the time that Vicente was done with him. He would never make it to this meeting.
A casual twirl of his knives and Vicente began to step closer…oh so closer…creeping through the shadows, becoming one with them, then moving on when the coast was clear. As each second passed he edged ever nearer, Death incarnate as it sneaks up upon any living man, woman or child.
Near the back of the car, Vicente shallowed his breathing until he made not the slightest of sounds. It was only when he was sure that he was utterly quiet as he moved around the SUV, blade raised and ready to come down on the back of the nearest guard.
Whelp! With a shiny new character comes the need for awesome avatars and sigs! So...talented people at MRO, please lend my they gifts and power!!!
...
Or post what you can.
The faceclaim I have to Vicente is Danny Trejo from "Machete", "Desperado", "Once Upon a Time in Mexico", etc. So, if you have any good ones, I'd love to see them. Thanks guys!
*** Due to the events in Second Chances Vicente has been turned back into a youth of 18 years old. These changes will be in effect until 10/1/2013, at which point he will return to his regular age. (Plot Mod Approved) ***
Character's full name:Vicente de la Sangre (No memory of his last name) Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Blood, Bestia, Nahual Gender: Male Age:53 18 Date of Birth: (04/10/1958) Nationality/ Ethnicity: Mexican-Spanish American Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Corpus Christi, Texas
Appearance
Hair color and style:Black, long and nearly always pulled back into a ponytail. When not, the hair hangs loose but very straight. He keeps it shaved since he hates long hair. Eyes: Dark, Earthy Brown, nearly black when angry Height: 6’1 Build: Tall but fairly muscular build. Visible mutation: Not applicable unless he is currently using his powers, during which his limbs and head will have shifted into an animal equivalent. Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Vicente has several tattoos over his body included barbed wire over his right bicep, feathers strung together on his left forearm, and a panther’s paw mark on his neck, including many others. The most prevalent tattoo is that of a Spanish senorita wearing a sombero on his chest.
Also, because of his work, Vicente does have many scars, including a couple of knife slashes across his back, at least two gunshot scars on right shoulder, and what looks like scars left behind from a pitchfork on his right thigh. Among these, also on his body, are several claw and bite marks from those animals he has…hunted. Other features:Vicente wears an old, wooden crucifix around his neck that was given to him by his grandmother, and he is missing the end of his left pinkie finger. He does not talk about what happened to it, he only says, “It was a lesson I had to learn.” He has nothing from his past.
Everyday clothing style: His favorite type of clothing is a black, leather vest (no shirt underneath), and regular, dusty looking jeans, as well as boots. For his type of work, he tends to dress loose and comfortable and only dresses up if his job requires it. Uniform: N/A Sleepwear: Boxer shorts and nothing else. Miscellaneous clothing: Occasionally Vicente will wear either a black leather jacket that looks worn but still reliable, or a long black trenchcoat which he uses to hide items that need hiding. His boots are his favorite. These brown leather boots usually hide a switchblade which is only to be used in extreme cases.
Character
Personality:Vicente is a very cold and calculating person. Whenever he walks into a room he immediately assesses everyone inside, looks for exit points and what can be used for weapons. To him, nearly everyone he comes across is either a target or a liability and tends to treat people as such. This usually leads the mercenary to have practically no one who can call themselves his friend. He believes that making friends will only create people who can betray you later. Because of the transformation, Vicente comes off as very lost and confused when he meets people. Mostly because he feels like he should know something about his surroundings because of a haunting sense of déjà vu, but it is fleeting at most. Aside from that, Vicente is pretty quiet and keeps to himself. When he makes a friend, though, he is pretty friendly and protective of them from then on. Hobbies/ Interests: … that is a funny question. What would a cleaner consider to be a hobby? Well he does read weapons magazines and always trains to keep his body hard and well toned. One of the things that really catches his attention are research books about the ancient Aztecs or other Meso-American cultures. This is an influence from his father who trained him at birth so he has a natural affinity for it. He likes to workout, sing, and study Meso-American art and/or religion. Job or part time job and description:Vicente is a former “Cleaner” for a cartel in Texas. Right now he is currently taking whatever work he comes across in order regain his reputation. None. Fears/ phobias/ concerns:Vicente would say that he fears nothing, but nothing could be farther from the truth. Like any living humans, he has his own concerns and fears. The man always has a fear in the back of his mind that he will fail a job he is given. One of his other fears is that he has a fear of drowning, which is why he does not know how to swim. Also, because he is always at odds with trying to keep his current shifts, the man is a strict vegetarian unless he needs to acquire new genetic material. This can make him appear a bit stern about what he eats and what food is present around him. He fears never finding out who he is. Everybody has a place in the world and when they don’t know it, they are simply a ghost. Vicente doesn’t want to be a ghost and go unnoticed. He also has a slight fear of the dark. Special talents:Vicente is an expert marksmen, excellent at hand-to-hand (especially with knife play). He also has a strong focus which allows him to stick to whatever task either he, or someone else, gives him with a bulldog-like tenacity. On top of all this, when Vicente once did a job where he had to pose as a mariachi, he learned to play the trumpet very well and has a beautiful singing voice. Though most will never live to see that side of him. Because of the transformation, most of his skills are reduced a bit. He is still an excellent, strong fighter, but whereas old Vicente could take on 20 or 30 foes at once, young Vicente can only fight at most 5 or 10 at a time.
Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other:Bad. There is no other words to really describe the man. He is bad to the core. He kills for a living and it does not matter to him who the target is, man or woman, young or old, single or group. So long as it adds to his reputation and gets him his money, he’ll get it done. Neutral: at the moment he is more concerned with finding out who he is, rather than change or destroy the world.
Mutations
Mutation description: Chimera Limbs – Vicente’s body can absorb and replicate equivalent animal body limbs. In order to do this he has to actually consume the animal limb, raw, the whole thing. After he has done this, Vicente’s body can store up to three different body limbs for future use. These shifts are stored in his body only until he consumes a new limb. When he does so, the oldest shift his body absorbed is removed, forgotten by his body (for example: if he had three shifts already stored and oldest shift was a tiger’s paw and he accidentally or on purpose ate a goat hoof, the Tiger’s Paw would be forgotten and the Goat Hoof will be added as his newest shift).
Stored Away: All the shifts he attains stay within his body for the rest of his life. Their genetic pattern will never be forgotten until he consumes another raw animal limb.
Animal Kingdom: It does not matter the type of animal limb he eats, if it is eaten raw, the genetic pattern will be assimilated into his body.
Strong Body: Because of the shifts he has to go through, Vicente has kept his body strong to support the added weight of the limbs, as well as the pain he has to go through for the shift.
Weaknesses:
Replaced Genetic Material: Because his powers depend on the consuming of animal flesh, if he happens to eat animal flesh, whatever it is it will replace his oldest shift. In doing so, he loses the oldest shift until he can consume that same type of limb again.
Painful Shifts: Though his body is strong enough to support the shifting, it is still a painful act and can cause him to lose his focus momentarily.
Timely Shifts: Along with the pain comes the time. The shifts are not instantaneous and can take a minimum of 1 – 2 minutes for a shift to be complete. This time frame works in both shifting into animal limbs and reverting them back.
Shift Hold Time: Currently, Vicente can only hold each of his animal shifts for a continuous total of 10 minutes each. When he goes beyond this, the body begins to automatically revert back human and he is caused severe pain. He has to consciously keep his shift going so if he goes unconscious, he will automatically revert as well.
Injury Transference: Just because Vicente can shift a limb into a new one, that does not mean he heals wounds either one way or the other. If, for example, he breaks his hand when it is a Gorillas hand and it reverts back to human, it will still be broken and he was to wait the appropriate amount of time for it to heal back. This also works vice versa. If he receives a laceration on his Tiger Claw, when it reverts back to his human hand, the cut will still be there and take a normal amount of time to heal.
Size Equivalency: Whatever limb he shifts his body into, it has to be of equivalent size and not too big or too small. If he were to eat a chicken foot, it would replicate on his body the exact size of a regular chicken foot. The same if he were to absorb an elephant’s leg. It would simply be too big.
Bloodlust: Because there is so much animal genetic material running through his body, Vicente has a hard time keeping himself more humanly minded. This means that Vicente suffers from a short temper, and can be extremely savage and animal-like when he is forced to that point. He struggles to keep himself under control, but there are times where he escapes himself.
Power Growth: (05/05/2012) Proportional Shifts: Whatever animal limbs Vicente has eaten, his body will automatically shift into them regardless of their size. Now if Vicente were to eat say, a mouse head, or a canary wing, instead of shifting his limbs into their original size of what he has consumed, his body will automatically shift them to a proportional size for someone of his height, weight, and muscle mass.
Strengths:
Any Animals: Where before Vicente’s body was limited to the types of animals that he could consume (in order to have a shift of the equivalent size), now Vicente does not require these. He can conceivably consume any animal limb, not matter how large or small, and have his body automatically shift the limb to a proportional human size.
Weaknesses:
Longer to Shift: Proportional shifts actually take longer than shifts of the equivalent size. These shifts can take a minimum of two minutes to a maximum of five. These time limits vary because it depends on the original size of the limb he has eaten and how big it needs to be in order to shift into a proportional size.
Faster to Burn: The burn time one these shifts are also very short. He can only maintain these shifts for about 8 minutes before his body is forced to return to his normal human form. He then has to wait about 30 minutes before he can shift into them again.
Void Certain Functionalities: Though Vicente can take on the cosmetic appearance of many of his animal shifts, certain ones are simply not that functional. For example: wings, gills, etc., are simply there for cosmetic reasons but do not have the same working features as a bird or fish would be able to utilize them (i.e. no flying, no breathing underwater, etc.).
Fighting Style
Explanation: Vicente was trained by his father, a self-proclaimed Aztec warrior descendant. In doing this, he was trained to find and exploit weaknesses by any means necessary. He has a good eye trained to seek out what is exploitable in his opponents and he uses that at every opportunity. Also, because of his ability, he can resort to shifting and attacking anything that moves. Being an assassin, Vicente does know how to be stealthy when he needs to be but he will go to whatever means to get the job done.
Now when it comes to weapons, Vicente is an expert. His favorite is knife fighting which he learned from his father at a young age. He always carries a large bowie knife with him, one that was passed down to him. Other than that, he is proficient in handguns, rifles, and automated guns and has quite a collection of his own. But he is not equally trained in all these weapons. He tends to rely heavily on the knife and hand gun and leaves the rest to simply pointing and firing.
Pros for fighting style: Being an assassin, he is very good at what he does. He knows how to take opponents of all shapes and sizes down, and if he needs a distant touch, he knows how to use firearms and knives well. Cons for fighting style:Even when outnumbered or out manned, Vicente will not back down from a fight so that can easily lead him to dangerous situations. And, while he may be an excellent fighter, take away his weapons and he will be at a disadvantage.
Faction Allegiance The X-men/ The Order/ The Kabal/ Other/ Unaffiliated Unaffiliated
History Of Your Character Born and raised his entire life in Corpus Christi, Texas, Vicente at one point had a life that he truly enjoyed. Born to Angelica and Juan de la Sangre, Vicente was always raised to have pride and self-control in his life. His mother was a homemaker but his father was the well respected bar owner of the Rattlesnake Bar and Grill. But there was so much more to him, and Vicente was the only person who ever got to see it. On the outside Juan was just a stern man who loved his family fiercely and kept a clean bar. But underneath that, Juan was a prideful warrior. Claiming to be descended from Aztec warriors, Juan kept his body strong his entire life and trained in the arts of combat and killing, but all in the name of higher gods. When Vicente was ten he began to train him as well. They would be the hardest, yet the best times of his life.
At ten years of age, Vicente’s father began to show him the ropes. In a hidden basement underneath his establishment, he showed him the appropriate gods to pray to, how to keep his body tight and strong, as well as the weak points in any living creature. At first his father was tough, reprimanding him harshly whenever he made a mistake to saying absolutely nothing when he succeeded. They were the hardest days for Vicente, full of bloodied gashes, bruises and missing teeth, but it was his drive to not let his father down that kept him focused. In two short years, after pain and trails, his father, who usually struck him with a hickory switch in order to correct his posture, instead handed him a bowie knife.
By twelve years old, Vicente had practically memorized the major artery points in a human body, as well as some more areas which, when struck or severed, could disable a human. Where his father learned all this information, Vicente would never learn, but after two years of intense training, he really did not care. He learned, soaked up all the knowledge like a sponge and, unfortunately, was ready to put it to practice with his new bowie knife. But he quickly learned that practicing what has been taught was much harder in real life. During a bad altercation in his father’s bar, Vicente attempted to attack a man that threatened his father for watering down his drinks. The boy got a few cuts in, but he was quickly knocked unconscious due to a boot to the head. But, when he blacked out, the last image he saw was his father smiling approvingly.
The next night, Vicente was taken by his father to go on an outing. This would be his final test. He would commune with earth itself to see if he was really worthy to put all his teachings into practice. So, late and out in the wilderness, his test began. His father abandoned him in a part of the desert and was told only to “Follow the voice of the ground. If you find me, then you’re ready.”
For two days, he traveled, never stopping, never eating, never drinking, but always listening for any clues to lead him back to his father. On his last night, starving and suffering from a bone dry throat, he caught the glint of fire light and followed. Within moments he burst into the scene of his father’s camp. Juan, dressed in the traditional garb of an Aztec priest nodded approvingly at his son and slowly aided him to a seat near the fire. In front of him, he placed a ceremonial bowl with what looked like the severed head of a coyote. All that followed next was the word: “Eat.”
Too weak to fight back, full of too much pride to say no, maybe full of hallucinations, Vicente did as he was told. It was a bloody mess but Vicente did not stop until he had devoured every last bit of the “meal” that was placed before him. It was then that he discovered he was a mutant. Once he had devoured the coyote head to the best of his ability, a fervor, a madness overtook him. Unable to control his rage at being left alone in the wilderness, for being harshly treated for his training, Vicente finally snapped in anger. He stood to scream at his father, but instead, let out a long and piercing howl. Shocked by his own voice, Vicente collapsed back as he felt a burning pain stretch out underneath his skin. Unable to contain it, he screamed once more as he felt his skull cracking and reshaping itself. Fur sprouted out across his cheeks, his bloodied teeth elongated and his eyes momentarily went black before shifted to a golden hue.
It was agonizing, this transformation, but when it was finally done, he stood and watched the shocked and terrified face of his father. Vicente had never seen the man so scared. He was doubly shocked when the man bowed before Vicente, whispering over and over again that he was a devil, a witch, a shapeshifter from the old days. It was only then that he was presented with a mirror. Vicente peered in and saw that he indeed was monstrous: a human body, with a coyote’s head. It was only after he finished his initial panic and calmed that he was able to shift back. But that one night would be the start of his life down a very bloody road.
After that, his father trained him harder than ever. For years he and Vicente trained secretly, learning how to fight, how to use weapons, firearms, and how to seriously harm any human being. At the same time, Vicente learned about his newfound abilities. For years he tested and trained with him, never really being able to ease the pain but growing more accustomed to it. At the age of twenty, though, his training would suddenly be put to use.
His father, unable to keep payments on his failing bar, took a loan from a local crime family. Soon he was unable to pay for that and they came to collect. Late in the night, his father had his kneecaps broken, but that was all they got before Vicente jumped in and brutally slaughtered one of the enforcers. The other he barely let live so he could deliver a message to the family: “Hire me, leave my family alone. You see what I can do.”
His offer was accepted.
Leaving behind his family, bastardizing his father’s teachings, and becoming a truly lethal weapon, Vicente began his work as an enforcer, then as a cleaner (or hitman), for a cartel known only as Los Lobos de Noche. For years he learned the inside trade, protected shipments, collected funds and overall used his abilities and teaching with deadly accuracy. He quickly made a fearful name for himself as he continued his bloody work for years for the same vice pushing cartel. He was their family and there was nothing he could fear. Even when the mutant registration came around, Vicente feared nothing. The government did not touch his new family and nobody would rat him out. So for years his used his powers without fear, remaining in the shadows and leaving only corpses in his wake.
But in 2010, his life would change yet again though.
The government, growing tired of the Los Lobos de Noche fearless reign, finally decided to step in. On October 31, 2010, FBI agents in conjunction with local law enforcement, raided and took down nearly every cell of the cartel’s organization throughout Texas. It sting was massive and extremely successful. Before Vicente knew it, his whole life and once again changed and he was left entirely alone. Unable to take the whole U.S. government on by himself, he fled.
For months he traveled in silence, making his way to the only place he felt he could regain some portion of his former life. In this place he would reestablish himself, and his particular “talents” for the sole purpose of once more reaching the top. New York City was his goal and on his way, he took from only the strongest of animals in order to make himself strong once more. He would leave New York a bloody mess.
Unfortunately Vicente has absolutely no knowledge of his past. He doesn’t know anything except for some basic fighting skills and his first name. Other than that, everything else is foggy. In New York he will suffer from cases of déjà vu, where people, places, and things will all look and sound familiar but other than that, he really won’t know anything about the type of person that he is or where he is from.
Roleplay Where did you learn about this site?: Found it on Bing looooooong ago. Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Jorge Cervantes and Agnes Nicholas Sample RP: Edgar Buscamente ran with all his might. His large, round, ample frame jiggled furiously with each footfall and was quickly followed by a sharp wheeze of breath. The man, a notorious dealer in stolen goods, a man who usually feared nothing, who always had bodyguards and even paraded himself in front of police officers, was now alone and running with a whimper on his lips. He still could not believe what was happening. The deal was supposed to have gone down so smoothly! He was assured it was!
While at a late night dinner with his future client, he was greeted with a disturbing sight. Placed before him by a terrified waiter was a plate that held…well…what could only be identified as either the remains of some human organ, attached with the nametag of his top security guard. What happened next even he could not make clear. The sudden darkness that comes with lights shutting off, the grimacing shouts of his security men being killed, even the splatter of remains splattering on his face. It was hell. It was only when he spied the crack of light from the door leading outside that Edgar ran for all he was worth. Behind him, all he heard was the roar of a lion.
That was why the man ran so hard and fast now. In the dim lights of the alley, he could see the splattering on his cheap suit and greasy skin was indeed red, indeed sticky, and therefore, could only be blood. He wanted the retch. Whether it be a combination of running so hard or the fear from what he had just witness, he did not know. But it was too much for his body to handle anymore. Stumbling against a slimy brick wall, Edgar suddenly threw himself half into a garbage can and released all the contents of his stomach. The foul smell alone was what forced him to pull back and clutch his chest to regain his senses.
“They already are,” a voice suddenly broke into the scene.
Edgar squeaked like a rat as he suddenly bolted up and pressed himself against the wall. The ooze from the slick bricks seeped into the back of his suit. Tears stung his eyes, his voice choked his throat and his wheezing breathing was getting hard to choke into his restricted lungs.
As he peered from side to side, he suddenly noticed a silhouette standing down the alley. It was that of a man, tall, with wild stringy hair. He could not see his face but his frame was imposing and though his hands were empty, Edgar could feel the aura of intimidation and fear that crackled with each and every single one of his footsteps. It was almost like listening to a walking, angry thunderstorm in the shape of man.
In his gravel-like, heavily accented voice the man spoke again.
“And don’t call me God.”
A stream of urine suddenly flowed down his leg, and Edgar ground his teeth as he yelled out, trying to make himself disappear against the wall.
“Please! I’m innocent! W-Whatever they’re paying you, I can pay double!” Edgar blubbered, “Triple!”
There was a flash of reflected light, the sound of whirling through the air, and then a sudden pain sharp pain in one of his hands. Edgar screamed as he looked down and noticed that there was shiny, steel knife now embedded through his hand. Shakily he attempted to grip the blade and pull it out, but another hand suddenly seized Edgar by the collar and shoved him hard against the wall.
In a panic he looked up to see the man, the savage creature of a man that stood before him. He looked so eerily calm. That was the most disturbing about him. His deep, brown eyes showed no sign of forgiveness, of compassion, of any real emotion other than bloodlust. His black hair waved briefly in a cool breeze that swept through the alley and his mustache very slowly curled into a sadistic smile. He was no man, merely a monster.
“P-Please…” Edgar squeaked.
“Ssshhh…” Vicente whispered as he leaned back.
Suddenly, before Edgar eyes, the killer’s face began to change. Edgar squealed like a frightened piglet as the whole head began to shift and change. Teeth grew into sharp canines, eyes turned a predatory golden, even his skin began to grow a fine coat of wheat colored fur as his mouth elongated. Edgar struggled in his grip but within moments, fear paralyzed him completely. The killer shrieked in pain but that quickly became a roar. In what seemed like an eternity, Edgar found himself staring into the feral face of a lion with a man’s body. Growling deeply, the lion’s head licked his yellowed fangs and snarled.
“W-What…What are–?”
The city beyond would only hear another roar as it erupted from the darkness of the alley and that was quickly followed by a muffled scream. Only a few remains of Edgar Buscamente would ever be found in that alley by the police in the morning. Another target down, another bundle of cash earned.