The X-men run missions and work together with the NYPD, striving to maintain a peaceful balance between humans and mutants. When it comes to a fight, they won't back down from protecting those who need their help.
Haven presents itself as a humanitarian organization for activists, leaders, and high society, yet mutants are the secret leaders working to protect and serve their kind. Behind the scenes they bring their goals into reality.
From the time when mutants became known to the world, SUPER was founded as a black-ops division of the CIA in an attempt to classify, observe, and learn more about this new and rising threat.
The Syndicate works to help bring mutantkind to the forefront of the world. They work from the shadows, a beacon of hope for mutants, but a bane to mankind. With their guiding hand, humanity will finally find extinction.
Since the existence of mutants was first revealed in the nineties, the world has become a changed place. Whether they're genetic misfits or the next stage in humanity's evolution, there's no denying their growing numbers, especially in hubs like New York City. The NYPD has a division devoted to mutant related crimes. Super-powered vigilantes help to maintain the peace. Those who style themselves as Homo Superior work to tear society apart for rebuilding in their own image.
MRO is an intermediate to advanced writing level original character, original plot X-Men RPG. We've been open and active since October of 2005. You can play as a mutant, human, or Adapted— one of the rare humans who nullify mutant powers by their very existence. Goodies, baddies, and neutrals are all welcome.
Short Term Plots:Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
The Fountain of Youth
A chemical serum has been released that's shaving a few years off of the population. In some cases, found to be temporary, and in others...?
MRO MOVES WITH CURRENT TIME: What month and year it is now in real life, it's the same for MRO, too.
Fuegogrande: "Fuegogrande" player of The Ranger, Ion, Rhia, and Null
Neopolitan: "Aly" player of Rebecca Grey, Stephanie Graves, Marisol Cervantes, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, Sabine Sang, Eupraxia
Ongoing Plots
Magic and Mystics
After the events of the 2020 Harvest Moon and the following Winter Solstice, magic has started manifesting in the MROvere! With the efforts of the Welldrinker Cult, people are being converted into Mystics, a species of people genetically disposed to be great conduits for magical energy.
The Pharoah Dynasty
An ancient sorceress is on a quest to bring her long-lost warrior-king to the modern era in a bid for global domination. Can the heroes of the modern world stop her before all is lost?
Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
Adapteds
What if the human race began to adapt to the mutant threat? What if the human race changed ever so subtly... without the x-gene.
Atlanteans
The lost city of Atlantis has been found! Refugees from this undersea mutant dystopia have started to filter in to New York as citizens and businessfolk. You may make one as a player character of run into one on the street.
Got a plot in mind?
MRO plots are player-created the Mods facilitate and organize the big ones, but we get the ideas from you. Do you have a plot in mind, and want to know whether it needs Mod approval? Check out our plot guidelines.
Shin is fine. Or Mister Shin, if you’d like... either way. One of us is going to have to change.”
If it were a wrestling match Shin's special would be the "Ice Breaker" and Sam would be down for the pin fall.
Sam didn't even notice their matching attire, a slight smile cracked his lips as he looked over himself and Shin.
”Kidding. Come on, I’ll give you the tour. Bye Monohan.”
"I think it looks better on you personally, not really my style." The two shared a quick smile before he watched him wave to the busy Monohan. For a second Shin had made Sam forget he was angry, he side eyed his handler before following Shin.
Before Sam could really get a good look around he saw someone rushing towards him more importantly someone with a weapon. It would be too late to properly evade or counter so he braced for the impending impact.
Instead he felt a gentle nudge. His brow raised in suspicion as he eyes Shin and the young girl. He wasn't sure who or what had just happened but apparently he was the only one surprised.
"Watch where you’re going better, Lenna! Not everyone likes what you do.”
”You know I can not control it. Perhaps people should do better watching out for me.”
Sam admired the girls attitude, and questioned her prowess with the blade. Already he could tell this place was going to be interesting so say the least.
”Sorry about that... some of our students can be hard to control... especially when they can’t control themselves. Let’s take a look at the mansion! Anywhere special you want to see?”
"I am interested to see the classrooms and what daily life is like here. I'm sure that was the main purpose of dragging me here." His tone was cold and serious. He gave Shin a playful nudge, attempting to joke. At least he could practice his socializing.
"Are the students allowed to leave as the please?" Looking back to the hedge maze.
He took a deep breath and held it, wincing in pain as the heated melt touched his skin. Exhaling he looked down at his waist, the blood sucking parasite releasing its hold on his hip and falling to the floor. He stared at it for a few seconds before squashing it beneath his sneakers. He hated ticks, parasites in general. Shaking off his disgust he began to clean and treat the bite wound.
His shower had exposed the pest, and as he dressed he pondered where he could have picked it up from. It was almost eleven in the morning, Monohan would be arriving at that time to take him to the Mansion. Although he had been enjoying his freedom as of late he did make a promise to check it out. After his encounter with Aura he could think of a few places he'd much rather visit. He had done some research on his new friend via google, he had acquired a powerful ally. Though the chances of them meeting again would be slim depending on how this meeting went, he didn't know much about the School but he was sure they were against him hanging out with wanted felons.
He sighed as he focused on continuing to get ready. Removing the Tick was probably the least painful thing he did today.
It wasn't long before Agent Monahan arrived, the familiar government tags on the all black Crown Victoria was a dead give away. Sam was dressed in a black polo and khakis, Monohan suggested wearing an outfit that would "look more professional" as if he was interviewing for the school. His hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, he even bought a pair of "personality" glasses from a vendor to help add swagger to the look.
"Well don't you look fancy." His handler complimented half sarcastically. He wore his working black suit and tie, and a pair of black Ray-Bans.
"Could you look anymore like a Fed?" Sam replied with a joking smile.
"Oh someone's in a good mood, here I got something for you." Monohan tossed Sam a small block box in with a red bow on it.
"It's a phone…" The Agent ruining the surprise as Sam caught the box. "...just keep it charged and on your person. I'll take care of the bill."
"Thank you" Sam replied as he made his way to the passenger side door. Making a mental note to program Aura's number into it later.
"Don't mention it." He replied as they both entered the vehicle. " When did you start wearing glasses?"
Their car ride up state was filled with random yet fluid conversation. Sam and Monohan had developed a bond since they first met in Africa five years ago. He was the closest thing Sam had to a friend. So when Monhan said he'd be dropping Sam off he didn't take it well. The last ten minutes of the drive Sam's attitude had been on full display. Despite his age he was still rather immature and they arrived at the school in silence.
"Listen this Shin guy is a good friend of mine, okay, just try and be nice." Monohan spoke as he put the car in park, and announced they're arrival to the speaker. Sam, although silent, was impressed with what he saw so far. The gates would open leading to the long driveway. Thrilled through slowly and Sam had to admit he was impressed by the compound. Before long they parked.
"Wait here, I'll be back." Monahan exited the vehicle and proceeded to exchange pleasantries with a shorter Asian man. They spoke for a bit before Monhan looked to the car and motioned Sam over.
He took his time exiting the vehicle, wiping a nonexistent smudge from his glasses before shutting the
He took his time exiting the vehicle, wiping a nonexistent smudge from his glasses before shutting the door and walking over.
"....And this is Sam, the kid I was telling you about. I really hate to cut and run on you guys but…" Monohan's phone interrupted his sentence. Mouthing the words sorry he backed away and answered the call, leaving Sam and Shin alone. In terms of size Sam was a lot taller and thicker than his current mentor.
His words affected her deeply, even from behind the mask he could tell there was residual pain. Sam had spoken about his past before. Most are sympathetic to his past, very few can say they know what its like. Sam felt the two had bonded over more than common origins, and battle prowess, he would to even go as far to say they were friends. The two continued their conversation for a while, the sounds of sirens fading more and more as they spoke. It was clear the police were giving up on their search.
He watched as she chopped open the wooden box, and handed him a few contents. Hopping of the, crate he had been sitting on he took the papers, listening to her every word.
" I have listed the address, Phone numbers and a brief description of some places that may be useful. Xavoirs, a mutant school that teaches mutants and ani...humans can get along. Sanctuary, my old stomping ground and former home. It was a mutant only shelter but they let Humans in there now too. The last is my number. Leave a message expressing your condolences on the passing of Solkat. I will call back"
Hoping off the crate he had been sitting on He reached a hand into his pocket.
"I don't know how to thank you…" he pulled the man's wallet and phone that he had taken earlier. " here, for you. I don't know what to do with them anyway." He reached out to hand them to her. "Consider it a trophy from our encounter. I do hope to see you again...my friend." Offering his hand and a friendly smirk.
After their exchange of formalities Sam would make his way back to his hotel.
*just one in a series of random post about his time in Africa and what not*
The enemy had been pushing them back for weeks, wave after wave of mortar barrages and heavy artillery had wiped out the vast majority of their forces. And although they had been well trained; the enemies tactical movements and their superior firepower were highly effective. It was clear the end of the Republic's Freedom Army was near. The scouting reports from the front weren't good, many of the other Warlords that made up the Republic were either dead, or had fled the battlefield. The U.N. was advancing on their position.
"THOSE COWARDS!" he yelled, slamming his fist onto the desk in front of him. Enraged he cursed in Hausa, clearing the desk with a swipe of his hand."Viper, gather the other "Chosen" and meet me in the main courtyard." Koffi graded a small empty bowl and a knife from the floor. "It is time for the ritual."
Koffi knew there was victory to be had, but was also a man who didn't believe in retreat or surrender. They had been taught this, trained for this. Koffi would lead them to a glorious victory, or a warrior's death.
Viper quickly executed his orders running around the makeshift fortress pulling the "Chosen" from their post. They were a special group of soldiers in the army with power who had survived the training. They were a small platoon of eighteen, ages ranging from eleven to fifteen. Except for one all were male. By now Viper was one of the oldest and most experienced members of the "Chosen" having been in service to Koffi over six years.
The ritual was the same as every battle, Koffi would cut his wrist and bleed into the bowl, then they would all drink. Koffi's mental powers were increased by absorbing his bodily fluids. While this gave the boys no real strategic advantage, their devotion to carry out Koffi's will stop at nothing short of death.
"Go now my children, let them see the true power of the Republic! We will show them the face of death!"
Her movements were careful, smooth, and decisive. She moved with the grace and precision of a dancer or an assassin. In truth Sam had a bit of trouble keeping up, forcing him to push his other thoughts aside. She was definitely in a class above him with more skill and more experienced.
"No, she X-men are decent, human loving fools. I'm the monster our people need." Her words were delivered like an undeniable truth, and a passion.
"I have killed a lot of people, so if you are questioned at any point just blame me for the deaths. Police won't question it"
"Thank you….." he responded, still trying to take this all in. By now he was sure she didn't wish him harm, she could have easily done that by now. But outside of a "name" and her purpose she was still a stranger. He followed into the warehouse door watching as she secured it behind them.
"You mentioned a Monahan as well Sam, can I ask who that is? If he is a threat to you, i can fix the issue."
"No, he isn't a threat….but I appreciate your offer. Monohan is a friend, one that won't be happy about our dance." He spoke with a natural grin rather than his practiced smile. As she moved to turn on the lights he stared at the mask on her face, he had questions but didn't know where to start. His face must have told on him.
"I'll be blunt, my hands have oceans of blood on them. I was kidnapped, my memories altered and trained for that task since my powers emerged at thirteen. I have killed hundreds as much as we did today." She said without a blink or second thought, again pure honesty.
The similarities between them were striking, he thought. He had no reason not to believe her and he was pretty certain she wasn't reading his mind. "Please tell me about yourself friend."
He glanced around the old dury warehouse and sat upon one of the crates laying around. He parted his lips to speak before the sirens wailed past, choosing to wait once they passed to begin.
"Same as you really… I don't remember when I was taken or from where. I've been killing men since the age of seven according to the record. I do know I was a child soldier under a man named Koffi back in Africa. He fucked my head too, made us do terrible things." He chuckled slightly. "I don't know my birth name, or my age. The UN gave me an identity and sent me to America for rehabilitation. Now I am here." He pointed to her masked face. "Why the mask if it's a print of your face?" The man from the alley recognized her, and she said she was well known in the city. "And that thing, your power, what is it?"
He clenched his fist allowing his stingers to be visible. The off white, bone- like weapons were straight and flat ensuring clean entry, yet barbed to make removal difficult and cause more damage.
"I produce and absorb toxic substances, and deliver itl with these." He did a few mock jabs in the air to demonstrate, although she had already seen what he could do. "I was very proficient." He said proudly, finally able to express the pride he had in his skills. Monohan and the others did not condone it.
You could tell a lot from blood splatter, lethality of the strike, speed, weapon used. Sometimes the killer's mental and emotional status at the time, but you didn't need to be an expert to know that man was dead the moment she made contact. He admired her work as the sections of the man fell to the floor in a bloody heap like bad livestock. He could taste a hint of pennies in the air as the mess they created began to spill into the streets. Cautiously he stepped to face the woman, observing her body language and maintaining a defensive angle. They both were being careful, clearly respective of each other's skills. Samuel half listened as the woman spoke, more focused on her hands and power than her words. Their eyes met briefly and to Sam's surprise the woman smiled. He raised his brow puzzled.
"Your power is beautiful, I don't think you even needed me. The name is Aura, Defender of Mutant kind, can i ask yours my friend?"
Samuel hesitated for a second, not quite sure how to interpret this Aura woman. For one she seemed totally fine with killing, yet her pleasant tone and demeanor were very disarming. Of the two this one bothered him most. Not that she did anything wrong, he just didn't know how to perceive her.
"Sam.." He responded as she knelt to search the bodies. He watched her before doing the same to his two victims. He didn't know why this was done but figured he should do the same.
"Please, my friend, we should not stay here, I know a place we could go that's close. We really do not want SUPER to find us here, they're not quite as kind as our former dance partners. Ask questions as we go."
Nodding, he followed. She spoke like a leader, telling him rather than asking, qualities he respected. Besides, he had no other options.
'Super?' He thought to himself unsure as to why that name sounded familiar. He almost repeated it again before he remembered. 'Super, Government Agency…...Government Agen..'
"Fuck! Monahan!" Sam exclaimed aloud, before looking back at the scene they were leaving behind and following her into the darkness.
Before he had realized it Samuel had wandered at least two or three blocks in an unknown direction. His mind distracted with thoughts of the incident that had just occurred. Not that it was anything big, nothing that would get him in trouble with Monahan. But it was a bit of a wake up call. Maybe he did need more time to adjust just new normalcy. If he struggles with basic social interaction such as that perhaps he could you a bit more...socialization. To him it made him sound like some form of wounded animal, or a child.
Conveniently pulled from his thoughts, he finally realized how far he wandered as his bladder beckoned for release, like most New Yorker's he headed for the mouth of an alley. Figuring he'd get back on track after a quick piss. As he pulled himself from the confines of his clothes, he caught the glimpse of one or two shadows out of her peripheral, he didn't pay them much attention until he heard the familiar locking of a switchblade.
"Behind You!"
A feminine voice warned, instinctively his hands shielded his junk, diving forward and rolling further into the alley to space. He now faced his attackers. The three men blocked the exit, and he couldn't see if there were more or the location voice.
"Attacking a man while he pisses, cold killer shit man." Samuel spoke, nodding his head in approval, finally able to properly dress.
"I killed plenty of men the same way…"
The slits of his eyes narrowed as he charged forward, both stingers extending out of his wrist. The left one harpooned outwards to strike one man in the throat, connecting with an audible wet fleshy pop, splattering blood in the face of the other. Temporarily blinded by his comrade's DNA, he stood defenseless as Samuel's right stinger slammed through his solar plexus, his face contorted unnaturally before slumping onto the bloody sidewalk. The third man had been backing out of the alley when Sam's assault began, preferring to live. As he turned to run he froze in sheer terror. Sam was still blocked from seeing who was out there but was quite curious.
"You killed Luke!?" The many yelled at the unknown party.
For one it was far larger than Washington D.C, skyscrapers competed with one another on every block almost. Each one attempting to pierce the clouds. Huddled beneath the steel giants, smaller buildings bullied for little space was provided.
He aimlessly rode the bus and train to various Burroughs and other popular places in the city composing a mental map as he went. By noon he found himself sitting outside a popular corner coffee shop, enjoying a sandwich and drinking a Pepsi; watching as people went about their lives. A group of people in their twenties about his age walked past, smiling and laughing. He could briefly overhear them as they discussed their day and where to get drinks. He thought about the conversation he had with Monahan as he watched them. Outside of fellow soldiers and comrades he realized he has never really had friends.
"Excuse me sir will there be anything else?" The voice of the barista pulling him from his thoughts. She was young and cute dressed in khakis and a polo covered by an apron.
"No, this will be all thank you.." he replied, his accent catching the young lady's attention.
"OMG I love your accent, where are you from?" Her voice speaking slightly with excitement as she smiled in anticipation.
"Africa." He said proudly yet red and black viper eyes locking with hers, as he turned his body to better face her, offering a practiced smile. It was his first conversation of the day, hell since he arrived in this city really. Outside of necessity he hadn't really conversed with someone up until now. But he and Monahan had rehearsed it plenty of times.
"That's so cool, what part?"
"Central Africa." He replied with practiced confidence.
"Really, which country?"
"I don't know…" he said calmly.
"Oh, so you were born here?"
"No, I was born in Africa."
"Well, where are your parents from?" She asked puzzled.
"I don't remember." His foot began tapping anxiously on the concrete. As his confidence dwindled.
"Oh...you're adopted?" She could tell that she had stumbled into a sensitive topic. He lacked the ability to navigate a conversation a basic conversation.
Samuel could feel the sweat forming in the creases of his palms. "No, I am not adopted. And you are asking a lot of questions! My check please!" He barked, frustrated at his inability to answer. It's not like telling everyone you were a child soldier who had his mind played with was easy, nor had he worked on a back story. And yelling didn't help, causing the girl to flinch slightly turning the heads of the other patrons and a few pedestrians.
A few facial expressions let him know they didn't take well to his outburst, so more upset than others.
"Oh…" She smiled softly, clearly hurt and walked away. 'Maybe Monahan was right…' Sam thought.
Placing his money on the table he followed suit.
(OOC: Got lazy here)
Seconds later a small group of up to no good mutant hating fellas start to follow……
Samuel looked around with a start, realizing the familiar interior of the tent. Compared to the ones he was used to sleeping in this one was far larger, decorated with pillows and furniture. A desk was off in the corner beside the bed, and a small bookshelf next to that. Yes, he knew this tent well. His eyes continued to search the tent as he seemed alone, then himself. He tugged on the familiar oversized and sweaty green fabric of his shirt, legs covered in olive cargo pants too loose for his pre-teen frame. A young boy's suit belt holding them in place. His boots were muddy and torn held together with duct tape in some spots. He looked like he hadn't washed in days. He felt a cold shiver of fear rush through his body, before automatically snapping to stand at attention. This was Koffi's tent, the Commander's quarters.
"You, my boy, are special. Deadly yet so beautiful….my lil Viper…" The voice spoke with a thick Afro-French accent. The tone was deep and guttural, almost harsh to the ears. Koffi was a large man 6'6 280 pounds of chiseled war-hardened steel. Four decades of seeing nothing but war, violence and pain. "I knew from the day we found you, you'd serve me well...now look at you almost a man…." From nowhere Sam felt the powerful man's hands on his neck, his grasp inescapable as the massive silhouette emerged from the darkness. "To better serve the federation, and to better serve me…" Koffi licked his cheek before throwing him onto the bed. "..I will make you a man…"
Terrified Samuel jumped up from his motel room bed and onto the floor, wrist blades fully extended, scooting himself against the nightstand between the bed and wall. His pulse was racing, beads of sweat raced down his forehead, only to merge with tears. He struggled to calm himself down, reminding himself it was just a dream. This is why he hated sleep. He forced himself to try and relax, unclenched fist allowing the blades in his forearms to retreat. He looked at the clock behind him, it was 5:45 am. He looked to the bed to the left of him.
"Guess I'm up for the day…" Preferring his early morning to anything the bed could offer. Rising to his feet he made his way to the bathroom to start his morning hygiene and get so he could get dressed.
About an hour later, he would emerge from his room; loose-fitting blue jeans would hold firmly at his waist via a black leather belt. He wasn't one to expose his drawers like most trends suggest. He would wear his grey hoodie over his white t-shirt, adjusting it so everything hung and fit comfortably. Pulling his hair back into a low ponytail before securing it with a rubber band. With no real destination, and a day to waste he set out to explore his new city.
Sam sat on the bed in his motel room, eyes closed in deep thought about nothing. The room was dark, no lights were on and the TV hadn't been touched since he checked in. He enjoyed the peace that an empty mind and the darkness created, back home this was his escape from reality. How he fended off the nightmares and screams. He didn't sleep, just sat with his eyes closed in the darkness. He could hear a voice outside his window, followed by two steady thuds at his door. His eye opened quickly, locking onto the door. He wasn't expecting guests, in fact no one should know he was there. "Samuel, it's Agent Monahan. Open the fucking door." Followed by two more loud thuds. Samuel slowly sat up causing the cheap and worn mattress to creak. Flipping on the light switch he opened the door allowing the man in. Agent Monahan was Samuel's handler and liaison at the UN, a tall, slender pale man, although he was rather red presently with dark brown hair and brown eyes. "How'd you find me?" Sam asked as he shut the door.
"What the hell Sam?!" Monahan's voice crackling slightly in anger. "We put money in your pocket, give you a bus ticket and one instruction. Check in at the Xavier School!" The agent sarcastically looked around at the cheap motel room, arms open as if presenting it to Sam. "And you toss the phone we give you and disappear!" He stared Samuel down in a mix of anger and frustration awaiting some response for his actions. The unfazed demeanor and Sam's own glare seemed to calm Monahan slightly as he took a few deep breaths and sat on the bed. "Talk to me Samuel, what's going on?"
Adjusting his posture allowing his back to rest against the nearest wall. In all honesty he was hoping to have lost his G.I. babysitter. "How'd you find me?" He asked again; still glaring at his unwanted guest.
"Called in a favor at NYPD when you didn't arrive at the school….traffic cameras. Now you answer my questions. Why didn't you go to the school?"
Making his way over to one of his bags Samuel searched and rummaged through it. "Age wise we all believe I'm roughly in my twenties, so…" he paused as he pulled a pack from his bag and placed it between his lips. "...why am I going to a school?" He attempted to hide his accent but it still managed to slip on certain vowels and letters. "I can read, write, do arithmetic. I passed all your tests, so what is the point." He questioned lighting his cig. "Besides, I'm no longer your responsibility." Motioning his head to the manilla folder with his visa and release papers. "I don't need school."
"Yes you did, but you're here alone. The school would provide you with a means to socialize and adapt to normalcy." Monahan sighed, combing his finger through his hair anxiously. "Listen, after you check in with the school. You're no longer my or the government's responsibility. But that's after you check in. That also means no more support from us, no funds, housing or food. Go to the school, get situated and build a foundation for yourself son." His words held some truth and struck a soft subject for Sam, softening his resolve. Monahan continued. "I know this has been hard but you're almost free." Standing from the bed he approached Sam resting his hand on his shoulder. "Just check it out, I can't and won't leave you alone until you do." He smiled as he removed his hand and made his way to the door. "Don't make me come find you…" he warned with a wave before exiting the room.
For a few seconds Sam just stood there pondering his next move. He moved toward the folder dumping the contents onto the table, before finding what he was looking for. He pulled the yellow post-it from the pile and looked at it closely. "School for the Gifted…huh?"
Character's full name:Samuel Iamoju Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Viper Gender: Male Age: unknown Early twenties Date of Birth: unknown Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Possibly Central Africa Nationality: Congolese or Sudanese Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: African
Appearance
Hair color and style: Black short dreadlocks Skin Tone: brown Eye Color: Black and red and viper like Height: 6’1 Build: Athletic 190 lbs Visible mutation: Black eyes with red viper like vertical pupils, fangs and small bulges under his armpits. Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Various scars and the letters RFA burned into his left shoulder blade (A brand from his time as a child soldier) Other features: Goatee
Everyday clothing style: Normal, urban. Nothing to flashy or attention drawing Uniform: All black everything (mask, black hoodie cargo pants and gloves. Lightweight combat boots, ballistic resistant body armor, AR-15 and an FN57. (You know typical crime gear.)
Sleepwear: Boxers Miscellaneous clothing: Concealed Black FN5.7 pistol, and a pack of cigarettes.
Character
Personality: Quiet, cold, distant and untrusting Sam is at best described as a loner. Years of violence and mental manipulation have taken a huge toll on his humanity and social skills. Although he is a really great guy! His therapist recommends that he learn to open up more; maybe make friends and learn to express his feelings, but when you come from a place where empathy is a liability and death is a way of life, friends don’t come easy… and neither does trust….but great guy.
Hobbies/ Interests: Boxing, sports, video games, karaoke Job or part time job and description: Former child soldier and bodyguard turned thief. Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Losing his free will. Telepaths, empaths or anyone who can mess with your head. Special talents: Singing, lock picking. Excellent hand eye coordination, and aim. Learned knife combat and throwing from a Warlord in Sudan at a young age.
Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Other, morality is merely a perception of what one feels is wrong or right given their current situation. Samuel's perception of right and wrong are blurred based on his experiences. While not totally without a moral compass, it varies on what is called for at the time. He’d like to never kill women and children again though.
Mutations
For the sake of clarity: poison, toxin and venom are terms for any substance that injures the health or destroys life when absorbed into the system.
Toxikinesis At its basic level Samuel has the ability to generate, absorb and manipulate toxic substances and energies. He can increase or decrease the potency of his venom within his range of sight, but it isn't strong enough to kill on its own.
Samuel's anatomy and immune system have mutated various auxiliary organs and lymph nodes that allow him to not only produce his own venom, but absorb environmental toxins around him. Toxins are filtered out by his lymphatic system and stored in extra axillary nodes located under his armpits, before being metabolized and stored in "sacs" located in the predatory organs in his forearms. These predatory organs act similarly to a Cone snail's with each sheathing a harpoon like blade roughly 8 inches long that can be used as a melee weapon or fired out to 15 feet before retracting.
How his venom works: With a combination of haemotoxic and neurotoxic properties and specially designed enzymes that attack those with healing factor x-genes differently than humans and other mutants. In most cases an anticoagulant prevents clotting and starts the breakdown of healthy tissue around the infected site causing intense pain followed by numbness, vertigo and loss of motor control in the affected limb or area before eventually wearing off (2-3 days). Mutants with a healing factor are affected quite differently, as the enzymes aggressively attack an opponent’s self-healing abilities. Reversing the process so that the more an opponent attempts to heal an enzyme-inflicted wound, the worse it becomes before eventually wearing off (4-5days).
Poison Immunity Samuel is immune to most environmental toxins; as his lymphatic system produces a variety of chemicals to counteract their effects. His eyes can spontaneously generate protective membranes, allowing sight in a cloud of tear gas. His trachea is lined with highly absorptive cilia, which filter and neutralize harmful particles such as smoke. His body produces atropine to defend against nerve gas, and amyl to overcome blood agents like cyanide. His sweat glands excrete dimercaprol and chloramine to counteract blistering agents such as mustard gas. His cell nuclei float in a solution of iodized salt to deflect gamma rays and other radiation. A side-effect of this results in peak physical condition as his body's unique chemistry keeps him in top physical shape. He has an increased endurance and can exert himself far longer than most because his body absorbs and converts lactic acid build up into nutrients that he can use.
Strengths: Great offensive and defensive capabilities. Has a devastating effect on healing factors. Can smoke and drink without consequence.
Weaknesses and Limitations: Can’t get drunk. (bummer) Samuel can only focus his toxin enough to kill on one person at a time. While this is easier accomplished through direct physical contact (3-7min) than maintaining line of sight (20-30min), depending on size and weight of the victim. Venom is easily cured and requires no special anti-venom. While aggressively attacking (self) healing factors, this does not prevent or affect third party healing.
Physical Abilities
General Physical Capabilities: Above average strength, stamina and endurance but nothing superhuman. Could compete with the best collegiate athletes.
Fighting Style: Close to mid range combat is his preference, as it allows him to fully maximize his abilities and special talents in combat.
Fighting Style Pros: Can match most in stamina and strength, has a slight advantage at Close Quarters Combat, and natural weaponry Cons: Long or Ranged combatants, Dermal armor
History Of Your Character Samuel was born in Sudan to a wealthy merchant and his wife on their estate just outside western Sudan. It was there that Sam lived a privileged life at a young age. From what Sam can remember his father's estate was as wide as the eye could see, with many of his laborer's and staff living on site along with extended family and friends. It was more like a small village than anything else a place that defined the true meaning of home. With crops and cattle it was its own paradise in the midst of a dry wasteland.
As Sam grew older it was becoming more and more clear that the peaceful world he had come to love so much was changing for the worst. Armed men now patrolled the boundaries to his father's lands, the small village where laborers once called home now grief stricken camp filled with refugees from neighboring villages and towns telling horrible stories of war and death. With all that was going Sam no longer got to enjoy the vast freedom of his beautiful lands instead of roaming the sand and valleys on horseback he had become restricted to the main house and courtyard only.
One night Sam would awake to the sound of such horror just outside his home. His mother's voice was frantic, her arms nudging him violently, occasionally leaving from his bedside before running to his window and glancing outside, then rushing back to his bedside continuing to urge him up.
He started to ask his mother what was wrong but was cut short by the sound of gunfire, followed by the screams of women and children.
Before Sam could respond his mother grabbed him by his hand and dragged him out the room, the sounds of war erupting as they made their way through the grounds. Dead bodies and blood marked the path as they weaved through the violence and mayhem. Then things got real slow and quiet, Sam looked off to his right as a uniformed man with a rifle slammed the butt of it into a woman's head, for a brief second the two locked eyes before the man raised his rifle and aimed it at Sam.
There was a flash of light and a slight breeze before he felt the weight of his mother tug his arm down, followed by a scream. Sam attempted to pull his mother up but she didn't move.
"Mama… Mama get up!" he cried tugging at her arm. Sam instinctively looked back to his right seeing the man upon them his rifle butt coming down at his head before he blacked out. When he awoke the raid was over no more bright fires or screams of terrified people. Instead buildings and tents were mere smoldering ashes. The exchanges of gunfire now replaced by single fire executions, and the once horrid screams of the terrified were merely weeps and sobs of despair. Blurry his eyes wandered attempting to gain a clue to his surroundings.
It was there he would meet a man by the name of Koffi, a high ranking officer in the Republic Freedom army, mutant and self- proclaimed Savior. He explained to Sam that he and his forces heard the sounds of gunfire while on patrol and rushed to the aid of the village. He explained to Sam his beliefs and ideas and the purpose of his forces. Graciously he extended his hand to assist Sam in finding his parents and making those who did this pay.
Young and naive Sam accepted his offer, and over the next years he would spend with numerous other boys from various villages training and learning to be child soldiers. Over this time he would learn everything from hand to hand combat to basic guerrilla warfare tactics, before being thrown into a series of raids on villages and refugee camps. Murder, rape and death were nightly activities promoted by Koffi. It was at this time many of the boys began to question their leader’s intentions only to have those thoughts quelled with violence or by the mental manipulations of Koffi’s abilities. If one still stood “unwilling to the cause” he would be forced to kill in a round of "eliminations" or death matches to weed out the weak. Sam would spend years under the direction of Koffi, and his brainwashing system until he was nothing more than a killer with no memory of his home or family. After years of training and killing to make him the perfect soldier, Sam and a few others were separated from the main force once their powers began to develop. Beginning special training centered on awakening their abilities, this class was instructed by Koffi personally and centered on putting children against life threatening and stressful circumstances to draw out the abilities of a child. Add that in with the yearly eliminations and some would learn to harness and understand their abilities quite well. Samuel was one of those children. The overtime RFA would fall to UN forces and Sam would spend the next five years in rehabilitation at a secured UN facility in Washington D.C, before relocating to New York.
Roleplay
What’s your OOC alias?: Sam Iam Where did you learn about this site?: Been around before Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Nope,not currently Sample RP: For May it was colder than one would expect, the light cascade of moisture continued to fall upon the not so busy streets. It was late not to mention cloudy, cold and wet, the type of day when sensible people would stay inside. Or try their best to hurry and get there. Yet there he sat head low, dressed in black waiting at the bus stop. He clutched his gym bag as he adjusted it and his sitting position resting the contents on his lap.
'Its past nine by now…'
Sam looked down at his digital watch for the second time in thirty seconds, his left hand pulling back the sleeve of his hoodie exposing the unimpressive time piece. He sucked his teeth as a way to vent his current frustration, before pulling a red and white pack of cigarettes from his back pants pocket. He inhaled briefly before passing the smoke through his lips, another drag soon to follow as he checked his watch again. 'It's late…' he thought to himself, exhaling as he looked up slightly at the convenience store at the other end of the block. He thought these things kept a schedule for a reason, lifting his wrist to steal another glance at his watch. His earpiece humming lightly as a voice spoke into his ear. "Stay alert everyone…..trucks 2 minutes out…." There was no reply to the voice, radio chatter was instructed to be minimal. Taking a few more hits off his cigarette he put it out placing the butt in his pocket. 'No DNA…'he mentally reminded himself. He pulled the zipper to his gym bag open slightly checking on the rifle he had inside. "Thirty seconds get into your positions. No mistakes fellas…" Sam could hear the sound of a diesel engine off in the distance. ".....and we all go home rich.." He took a deep breathe as the armored truck rolled past him towards the convenience store.
