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.
Huh, so he didn’t scream? In fact, the man spoke to Eisen as if they were just two strangers waiting in line at the bus stop with time on their hands and not as if they had met each other upside down in a dark alley.
>>”How’s it hanging?”
Beads of sweat dripped down off Eisen’s forehead as he held himself suspended for a little while longer as he internalized the question. Then he unpaused his clothing and dropped himself to the ground so he could speak to the man on the same level. Eisen’s adrenalize rush from his rage-graffiti and sudden dive still left him in a stupor, as he tried to regain his composure.
“Uh… It’s hanging -pant- ok… I guess?” Eisen wasn’t really in the state of mind to address another conscious being right now. The sudden drop and the suspension in the air caught up with his stomach. All that he held in his belly lurched and he leaned against the wall to balance himself. He still had on his black mask, which helped Eisen to conceal the nausea that was sprayed all over his facial features.
>>“I don’t get it. What is it? Is that an eleven? Or a two? You know, like Roman numerals?”
The man seemed to show interest in Eisen’s graffiti-- though Eisen was a little embarrassed that this current piece wasn’t his normal style and the black circle on the wall wasn’t made to impress. He wanted to tell the man that he caught him at a wrong time. He could show him his other finished pieces, is he was still interested, but the Sphaghetti O’s he had for dinner made their way up and out his throat pipe.
“It’s a BLEEUUUUGH” Eisen quickly pulled off his mask. His partially digested O’s spewed out onto an old tire on the ground, and some even made it onto the old man’s shoes.
“I’m so sorry BLEGH, EGHH, EGHHHhhh” The rest of his microwave dinner emptied out. Eisen wiped his vomit tinged slobber from his mouth with his sleeve and clutched his sides. Great. Now I have to get more dinner.
In his queasiness, he almost forgot the man’s question. He grew red in embarrassment, not really knowing what to do next.
“It’s a pause symbol. Y’know like on a remote?” Eisen began to walk slowly past the man still clutching his sides.
“You don’t happen to know a good place to eat around here, do you?”
Not even moments later after Eisen clambered over the roof did he see the shape of a coat-laden person emerge from the door. Close! He pulled his head back from the edge, but noticed the flap of his new coat billowing over the side.
>>”Oh son of a --!!” Eisen then heard a crackle like a firework and his coat got a hole in it, and so did part of the roof right next to him. The spread shot of what was definitely a shotgun took out some chunks of the roof and Eisen yelped.
“Oh fu-ton!” The shot startled him so much he lost control of his ability. His nerves got the best of him, so much that he fell onto the snowy roof and started to slide down. A large gargoyle, which looked more like a buff Hercules than any rotten looking demon thing, stood up where pieces of the roof had been broken off. Eisen reached forward and grabbed the buff leg, before stabilizing his shoes and pulling himself up to it. The shotgun had ruined the corner of the roof so much that the gargoyle leaned forward, almost tottering down.
On instinct, he placed a palm on it and slid his back against Hercules’ stony butt. Smithers really should have built this thing better. He steadied it with his ability and hoped it would provide enough cover from another round of whoever’s shotgun was attacking from below. He hoped they would fire another shot, so he could take a quick look of who it was during the reload, before running away.
“I know you’re up there, dead president!” The man called out, and Eisen vaguely remembered the voice as the one who broke up with that other chick.
Ok, so it sounds like he’s the only one down there… but where are the others? Eisen looked over the snowy rooftop, which was hard with his heart pumping adrenaline through his trembling body, and noticed a gaggle of flying beasts headed in his direction. It doesn’t seem like they saw him yet, but they were headed toward the sound of the noise.
I am so dead. I’m dead. I’m dead. Eisen kept looping the phrase in his head as he pressed up against the gargoyle and slipped his control again. He felt Hercules’ stony butt inch forward away from his back and felt himself slipping off the roof with it. Noooooooo!
Together they hurtled off the roof, the light of the moon shining through the clouds peering down upon them in their descent. “I’m falling!!!” Not. Eisen spun around and dove with Hercules, and placed a hand on his chest, pausing his clothing in the air and effectively catching himself yards above the ground. He couldn’t save Hercules, though, as he shattered on the welcome mat.
Jacob leaped off to the side to avoid getting hit by the falling gargoyle, and Eisen’s survival instincts kicked up again when he saw his gun.
“Give me that!” Eisen positioned his feet in the air to leap, paused his shoes, unpaused his coat and jumped toward the gun.
“Augh! Die, you fool.” Jacob repositioned the gun to aim at Eisen.
Eisen’s hand wrapped around the front sight and he paused the gun in the air, and paused it so that even as Jacob tried to pull the trigger, it wouldn’t budge.
“Let go!” Eisen then held onto the shotgun, which was huge by the way, since it was able to ruin so much of the roof, and using it as a polearm, threw his feet into Jacob and threw him onto the snowy ground.
Eisen hung in the air with the gun, breathing hard. He hadn’t done so much exercise in the past week.As he hung there, however, he could see the flapping figures of the bats now descending upon him, with their ugly gargling noises.
“Give me a break!” Eisen dropped to the ground with the shotgun and ran over to the fallen Jacob, thrusting the butt of the gun into his face to knock him out. “Sorry pretty boy, I need this.” He said as he grabbed the sling around Jacob’s chest holding the shotgun ammo and continued to run, this time wrapping around the right of the mansion’s entrance. Boy did he need a breather. Eisen stopped for a second to shoot a round behind him, but as he did so, the bullets came in contact with the cool air. The triplets were nowhere to be seen.
“Sh*t. Where did they go?” Eisen considered running back to the entrance and hunting them down, but he took this chance to catch his breath first and reload the shotgun. Then as he took in a breath, he decided to run toward the backyard, where the others ran. His compatriots would probably need his help and now he had a gun!
Eisen had never felt so flattered before as when he received his new pair of neon-pants. He looked around the room for a mirror, and found the glint of the evening light against the window as a good enough reflective surface. He swiveled, checked out his ass, and stared in awe ar his complete neon glory.
“Smithy, you’re the bomb dot org.” Eisen shot him finger guns. Then he listened as Smithy continued speaking and the gears in Eisen’s head started turning.
>>“Dusk is three hours away. You all have a three minute head start! As the contract said, the goal is to evade capture (or death) until nightfall, after which the real fun can begin!”
Three whole hours to hunt? We’re the hunted, what? Eisen began to raise his finger, then he looked down. If he were to be the hunted, he would eat sh*t. A fire began to burn inside him. He knew he should have read the fine print! Eisen’s face drooped all the way down to the floor and he almost wept at his own stupidity. Then, he began to feel even sadder realizing that it was now confirmed that their glow stick party would literally have to wait till nightfall.
Then, the scarfy dude disrobed and brought up an excellent point.
>>“The contract stated options. For the hunt, we were able to flee, hide, or join.”
I’m so glad someone read the fine print. Eisen thought as his chest began to relax. Then as the couple bickered, all the possibilities rushed through his mind.
Join and risk getting my hands bloodied? Or risk getting my blood spilled... Eisen thought to himself, but then realized. My hands will probably get bloody either way… Eisen then slapped himself in the forehead. All of this is so f*cking crazy! His thoughts finally traveled to Niko, his one eyed-cat sitting at home. He should probably tell Elaine that there was a possibility he wasn’t coming back.
Decisions suck. Eisen sulked as he went to pick up his bag and watched Elliot, the irritated ex-wife, and Junie escape out the window. He would have to mope later and decide fast. Think, Eisen. Think. What’s the best way to get out of here alive?
Maybe I could join Smithers, pretend to play, and then shoot him up. No. He’s definitely too smart for that. Eisen looked back down at his disco outfit. He would really have to ditch this beacon if he had a chance of surviving. But if I choose to hunt, that could backfire on me as well. Time was ticking. Three minutes? Only three? Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t.
“Uhhhhhh. I have to take a piss.” Eisen blurted out as he scooped up his bag and darted out the study the way they came in.
Sh*t. He definitely knows I’m running now. Eisen darted back through the hallways. Luckily he had memorized the way back. So his feet wouldn’t make a sound, Eisen ran using his mutation, spatially locking the soles of his feet as he traversed over the floorboards. As he ran, he fumbled to shed his ne-outfit, which required all of his concentration. His pants, vest, and finally his bag of glowsticks were all left behind.
He made it to the coat closet at the front and grabbed the closest coat and pair of pants he could find. His heart thumped against his chest knowing the time limit had to be over by now. Where should I go? Sh*t. Eisen ran for the front door, and a cold burst of air greeted him. He jumped out and began making his way up, spatially locking his shoes to climb up and over the front of the house. He waited, peering over the edge of the roof, still hovering with his mutation, to see if anyone had followed him out. Then, if and when the coast was clear, he planned to use his higher vantage point to scope out the size of the property, and decide on where to hide next. The air was colder up here, but thankfully Smithy’s new black coat did the job.
KSSSST! KSSSSST! KSSSSSST! Eisen sprayed a blackhole into the brick wall in front of him with a can-full of black paint. The sounds of rushing cars, busy whispers and the faint hovering of a search chopper all faded behind the busy spray of his paint-can. He seethed under his facemask, one he wore to keep his identity anonymous, not satisfied until the whole image in front of him was bathed in black. What lay beneath the layer he worked on, was a half-portrait of a man and a half-portrait of a honey badger. The image concealed was signed with the watermark, ‘XIA’.
This body of art was the third canvas he’d seen around the city in the past month using the same watermark. The first two he passed by, he’d dismissed as ones he only thought were new, but this half-man, half-honey badger was identical to one on the side of an abandoned rowhouse in DC, one he had helped paint three years ago. That was the year he first met Xia, the year before she overdosed and lost her life. Now, two years later, some bastard had the nerve to start scripting in her name.
After sufficiently concealing the blatant plagiarism, Eisen took two quick glances, one down the alley headed toward a Silver Diner, and one headed into the neighborhood, and seeing no one, drew a black line connecting the now black hole and dragged it upward. The soles of his feet tensed, as his mutation activated subconsciously after years of use, and he stepped upward using the soles of his shoes as mobile footholds. Up. Up. Up. Up. He knew he had gotten high enough when the light shone over his shoulders; someone would see his logo here. He sprayed his signature, “II”, two powerful, parallel, black lines. This was his beacon, him marking his territory, a declaration of his desire for justice.
Was this going to bite him in the butt later on? Eisen didn’t care. He wanted this wannabe to seek him out, to show his or her bold face. If it were his own graffiti being copied, Eisen wouldn’t have been too bothered, but to pose as a dead artist? To blatantly copy one? Eisen didn’t believe in imitation as flattery. Copy and paste in the graffiti world was theft, and a theft he wasn’t going to stand for.
Eisen shook his paint can, still frustrated and uncomforted. KSSST! KSSSST! KSSSSST! He shook the can a little too strongly, and it slipped out of his fingers. It hurtled silently into the alleyway.
He shifted into fall mode, relaxing his soles and falling, then ran down the wall and dove for the falling can. His eyes widened, as he descended after the can just as it hurtled toward a man’s head.
Almost! He sprung two more steps and caught the can, then pumped all his energy into his soles and placed his other hand on his chest, spatially locking his all-black attire, black skinny-jeans, hoodie and all. He stopped just a couple yards above the man, suspended upside down.
Eisen almost breathed a sigh of relief, until he heard the man mutter.
>>”Huh…”
Eisen looked him square in the face, his eyes locking onto the man’s. If he screams, knock him out and run.
Eisen stared straight ahead at a pair of brown, unblinking eyes. A small spout of air, smelling like fries and hot chocolate puffed into his face, causing him to blink. The five year old, with whom he initiated the staring contest with, cackled and rolled over in laughter on the booth in front of him.
“That’s not how you play.” Eisen stood up, and reached over the table to jab his hands into the kid’s sides until he shrieked and his laughter turned into a series of “no-oh-oh-hua-hua-hua’s”.
“Eisen, you’re going to make him puke. Great. Now you knocked over the salt-shaker.”
Eisen sat back into his seat and his older sister Aurelia, with her black hair tied back in a bun and the silver scarf he bought for her, rearranged the knocked over salt shaker. It had been a few months since he’d seen her, but her face remained as smooth as ever, as if the stresses of being a mother had no effect on her complexion. Every time he saw her, he imagined her biological mother to have been just as beautiful, but with more wrinkles, wherever in China she’d have been in right now. Her kid stuck out his tongue at him, and Eisen stuck his tongue back out at him.
“Hey, sport. If you don’t want bad luck, here’s what you do,” Eisen took a pinch of the salt he spilled and threw it over his shoulder.
His sister shook her head. “Please don’t teach him that.”
The kid giggled, picked up some salt and threw it at Eisen, aiming to shoot it over his shoulder. Salt scattered on his sleeve and their finished dishes.
“Over your shoulder, not mine, silly.” Eisen dusted the salt off his sleeve as the waitress came back with his credit card and receipt of purchase. Then he stood, and pointed toward the skating rink to his left, through the side windows of the Rock Center Cafe. The kid bolted off the booth and ran toward the windows to stick his face on the glass, watching the people skate around in circles.
“Quinn hasn’t been this excited since Christmas Eve.” His sister said, with a tinge of wistfulness. “Still can’t believe Chris couldn’t stay for New Years.”
“It’s only for a month, Lia.” Eisen responded, knowing that Aurelia, her husband Chris, and little Quinn used to travel everywhere together. He wasn’t one to pry, but it seemed as if distance wasn’t the only reason her sister was distressed about having her husband do business abroad.
Aurelia squeezed Eisen’s arm, which was the closest thing to a thank-you he’d receive from her.
“This is the first time you let us visit you in New York. Mind telling me what’s up, Ei?”
Eisen turned away from his sister’s gaze. Her straightforwardness was bittersweet. He missed it but could also only take it in doses. To lie to her, however, would not delay her from getting at the truth for too long.
“Xia died today, two years ago. Didn’t want to go through today alone.”
“Hmm.” She muttered, but did not move to comfort him. Instead, she peeled Quinn’s face off the glass and walked over to the skate-rental. The little kid cheerily followed. Eisen stayed back.
Eisen told his family very few things about why he moved to New York. Aurelia probably only knew a few things about Xia; that she was a huge reason why he moved, that she was a mutant, and that ever since he moved, he’d been different. Distant. For reasons he wished he could explain, but chose not to. It was better his family didn’t know.
------ “Here are your skates.” The man behind the counter smiled as he held out Eisen’s size 11 blades and untied laces. Aurelia was busy putting on her skates. Quinn giggled as he hobbled over to his uncle. The employee wasn’t done with Eisen yet, however.
“Would you like to donate some of your purchase today to support mutant equality?” The other man behind the counter came up with two sets of gloves, one a bright shade of red the other a dull black. He was a splitting image of the other man, and Eisen put it together that they were twins. Their name tags read Deemus T. and Dumas T.
“For the final skate of the day, everyone normally gets wristbands, but for today, those who support mutant equality get to wear these special gloves.” Eisen looked over at Aurelia and saw that she had on a wrist band, but little Quinn had on red gloves.
“Sure, I’ll donate.” Eisen flashed a quick smile and Dumas T. handed him the gloves. Deemus T. put a matching red stripe on his skates as well.
“Enjoy the skate on Rockefeller Rink.” The two said in sync, almost eerily so.
“Yay, Uncle Eisy and I are matching!” Quinn said as he showed Eisen his red gloves.
Aurelia came over to Eisen as he tied up his skates and Quinn rode on his lap, tying his red curls in his red gloves.
“His favorite color is red. That’s all there is to it.” She said, as she folded her arms and turned to face the skating rink.
Montezuma addressed the group last, of which Eisen didn’t want to call Tez. Montezuma was a fricken awesome name already, though it probably wasn’t his real name. Something about his name already taken, must mean someone earlier took his name. Maybe we have the same name? he thought, but that wasn’t likely.
Smithers seemed a little too pleased by the assembled crew but his smile gave off a less creepy vibe than Eisen had previously expected. Maybe he wouldn’t turn out to be an aloof, wealthy kook, but was just a misunderstood man who lived off of some inherited property. Eisen shrugged the thought aside. He didn’t have much to go off of yet.
His interest peaked as they followed Smithers into his establishment. The interior of the mansion could be described as rich in the dark chocolate sense, with wood and creme colored walls. Vast, but simple. He still admired the chandelier and would love to see how the building was wired. The entrance lacked space for them to hang up their coats despite there being a huge coat closet displaying Smithers’ hunting and winter attire.
Servants came up to offer them beverages and Eisen jumped at the hot chocolate with a similar enthusiasm as Junie. He watched as she balanced the mug on her head and imagined seeing it sink into her scalp. He rubbed his eyes, and confirmed what he was seeing. So, she must be a mutant too. That makes three of us, so far. Eisen tried his best not to focus too much on that reality, but the past two years scouting for mutants for the underground fights drilled into him a subconscious radar for other mutants. He had no reason to seek them out now, though he was surprised he still had it in him.
A blanket of silence seemed to cover the group as they followed Smithers down the halls, sipping their beverages. He used the silence to take it all in. During moments of silence when he inspected telephone wires, which happened often, Eisen loved to survey the city and memorize the rows of buildings from his vantage point. Even now, he was paying close attention to the low ceilings, mahogany doors, which sections were lit and weren’t. They took a left, a right, straight down and another left before arriving at a huge study, wide and furnished enough to feel like groups studied here. Curious for a man who advertised his loneliness. Now, Eisen was growing suspicious.
>>The butler left. Smithers turned to address them with a welcoming smile. “Please, sit and read then sign.”
Eisen picked a seat beside Elliot, the man, er mutant who seemed to have the most sense out of the group and plopped his bag beside the table. Elliot, however, did not waste any time reading the fine print, and Eisen looked around to see what everyone else seemed to be doing. He was off put by those that signed without hesitation. Since he already established himself as the fun-loving guy of the group, he didn’t want to keep them waiting, but Eisen also wanted to know what was on this document. Ehh, what could go wrong?
“You just need my siggy, right, Smithy?” Eisen called out, as he ripped the last page off, quickly signed it, and stuck it out for Smithy to see. Then he began to read the fine print, but before he could continue, a clumsy servant had come over to pick up his signature and knocked over his hot chocolate. The hot liquid ruined the document and pooled over into his lap.
“Sh*t! Hot! Hot!” Eisen quickly took off his pants to reveal his hot pink speedos.
“Sorry, sir. May I get you another glass?”
“How about some pants?” Eisen said, irritated. Then he took a deep breath and re-assumed his easy-going persona. “Neon-yellow ones, please! I needed something to complete my ne-out-fit anyway.”
The cute blondie with the sunglasses took him up on his offer and Eisen pumped his fist. One down, the rest of these partygoers to go. As the shuttle began to slow down and they arrived at the entrance of the mansion, Eisen made sure to double check his things. He had his seventeen bags of glowsticks, his towel, and a change of clothes. Shoot, he forgot to bring his cell-phone charger. He pulled out his phone and saw that it was at 18% charge. He should be fine, right? If he needed to, he could ask someone else to use their phone. Maybe the millionaire had a landline. Rich people still have landlines, right?
The mansion was breathtaking and exactly as Eisen expected. Stepping out of the shuttle, he adored the designer hedges, the beautiful white brick facade and huge windows, and the staple diamond-looking chandelier waiting for them through the windows of the entrance.
The green mutie voiced his hesitance, and the blondie found a guy in a fashionable red coat to share chocolate with. Eisen was tempted to ask for a piece, but there would probably be loads of food lying around in the mansion. He could wait.
Before they could enter, however, the Mr. Smithers guy greeted them at the entrance. Hezekiah. Hez. Kiah. Smithy. Eisen decided he would call him Smithy. Hezekian Smithers was too long a name. He seemed a little too excited to meet them, or was that a reasonable level of excitement for a lonely man such as ol’ Smithy?
“So, you’re the honeymooning Eds. I.D.K. what you called yourself, Scarfy. Elliot the yoga dude. Junie. I guess I’ll go next, Smithy.” Eisen stepped forward and puffed up his chest. He realized he was acting like such a goof, but that was all part of his act. He would probably never meet these people again, so he was putting on the goofball act just to make sure the party wouldn’t be a bust. Everyone knows that as long as one person acted like they didn’t care, the rest would follow.
“Call me Eisen. Short for Eisenhower. Yeah, like the president. I’m the guy that makes sure your telephone lines stay in tip top shape.” Eisen gestured to Smithers.
“We’re twinning! Orangies.” Eisen stuck out his tongue. Then he swiveled to the guy with the red coat.
“And I pass it off to you my friend, with your fancy shmancy coat. Best for last!”
Power line inspections every day. Only inspections- no repairs. He loved repairs but no one had any lines to repair this week, despite the mixed weather they'd been having. He'd lost his earmuffs on Tuesday. Wiped his new gloves on fresh bird poo climbing up the powerline on Wednesday. Fought some chilly winds on Thursday.
Eisen stared out the window of the shuttle that escorted him and him few more strangers through some gnarly, snow-topped woods. A weekend at some rich stranger's compound was the right amount of voluntary crazy Eisen needed to rejuvenate his thrill-hungry spirit.
He had left his spare apartment keys to his neighbor, Elaine, the cat and dog lady who was more than eager to take care of Nico, his one-eyed cat. He wasn't planning on spending the weekend at this stranger's place, but he surely wasn't opposed to the idea. He didn't want Nico to suffer, though. The one-eyed soldier probably wouldn't notice he was missing, but he was sure the cat also held grudges. Death by vengeful kitty-claws was something he'd want to avoid at all costs.
Eisen brought all the reflective gear he owned; his orange work vest, Fanta-orange beanie, neon green socks, a pair of hot pink speedos and a whole bag of glowsticks. The vest and socks were for the hunting and the rest were for the night swims he was totally going to spearhead if no one else was. He hoped the mister or mistress would supply the glow, but one can never have enough glowsticks. Now that he thought about it the party thrower had a pretty ambiguous name, a Smithers, or something else old, white, and lonely sounding.
Speaking of old, Eisen had been afraid that this ad would attract old farts and he'd be the only young one up for a pool party and hunting, but he was surprised at the array of individuals in the shuttle. A martian looking dude, a couple, and even a cute blonde had made themselves on board. The obvious mutant made him feel a little more comfortable, knowing that his mutation would only be a fun party trick in comparison. He'd be a person to speak to at some point in the night.
When the blonde responded to his Stephen King comment, however, all his attention snapped to her.
"What? You're telling me you haven't heard of the genius behind the movies "It", "The Shining", and "Pet Sematary"? You do know him. You just didn't know you did."
Eisen swiveled to face her and focused his gaze on her. "We could ask our host to put one of those classics on for us. He better have a huge flatscreen beside the jacuzzi."
He gave her a wink. "What do you say? You up for hot bubbles and murderous clowns? Invitations open to anyone else too."
Character's full name: Eisenhower Brandt-Garcia Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Pause Gender: Male Age: 22 Date of Birth: March 17, 1998 Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Baltimore, MD Nationality: American Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: Irish on his Father’s side, French on his mother’s side
Appearance
Hair color and style: Ginger, with curly locks and a full, neatly trimmed beard Skin Tone: Fair-skinned Eye Color: Hazel Height: 5’9” (180cm) Build: Toned, but not athletic. Square shoulders. More torso than legs. Visible mutation: N/A Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: His initials “EBG” on his lower right calf, Other features: N/A
Everyday clothing style: He wears t-shits, skinny jeans, hoodies, Puma sneakers, y’know, casual street wear Uniform: Wears a hard-hat, reflective vest, and gloves when repairing telephone wires Sleepwear: Boxer-briefs and socks with holes in them (the socks have holes, not the boxers) Miscellaneous clothing: His graffiti M.O. is all black
Character
Personality: Eisen loves to ask questions, and has been inquisitive as a youth. He is not satisfied with bullshit answers and will get at the truth because he feels as if no one has actual authority to keep truths hidden. As the youngest child, he has a need for attention, but is not picky about who or where he gets it from. He speaks his mind and goes wherever he wants, but is aware of societal expectations and will not garner unnecessary attention to himself. Eisen, however, cares little about laws and regulations. Permissibility is achieved through ability, in his eyes.
Eisen is typically an adrenaline junkie. Furthermore, as a kinesthetic learner, he loves to dive head-first into situations even prior to assessing the risks. His guiding factor is mostly derived from thrill and amusement. Yet, Eisen is capable of long periods of focus as long as it is devoted to an activity he has grown to love. His graffiti art and taking long runs/hikes are a couple of such activities.
Eisen lives in the world with the attitude that he owes the world nothing and the world owes him nothing in return. One chooses what one gives to the world. This belief was fostered by his two caring fathers who refused to shelter him from reality but also reinforced an attitude of gratefulness. All of life is a gift. As gift, no strings ought to be attached to anything. Thus, Eisen tends to be a forgiving and understanding person, yet this belief has also developed an antagonism against any force that imposes commitment onto him. If he does not feel as if he is free to continue any activity or relationship, his determination diminishes.
Hobbies/ Interests: He is a graffiti artist with some reputation. He goes by the name ‘Pause’ and hsi signature consists of two vertical, parallel lines. “||” Eisen also enjoys climbing up to various heights and traveling via foot from place to place. Job or part time job and description: He was recently hired as a telephone-wire installation and repairman Fears/ phobias/ concerns: He fears drowning, being in debt, and nuclear warfare. Special talents: Other than his developed graffiti style, Eisen has also learned to cook, style hair and to be organized from his fathers. He also knows enough Spanish to get by, but not enough to be considered fluent.
Morality
Neutral: Eisen tends to be kindhearted, but has no aversion to performing immoral activity if it serves a larger purpose and is performed out of his own free will.
Mutations
Mutation description: Spatial Lock Eisen’s mutation allows him to lock any solid object in its position in space as long as he maintains direct or indirect physical contact between the object and his palms or soles.
Strengths: Eisen can potentially lock as many solid objects in space as long as they come into direct or indirect contact with his palms or soles. (example of indirect contact: if he holds onto a rope and locks its position in space, his mutation extends to anything else solid that the rope touches) Each palm or sole acts as a source of spatial lock, meaning he can directly lock up to four different targets.
Eisen utilises his mutation on a daily basis by locking his shoes into place as he walks through the air, essentially using his spatially locked shoes as stairs. Eisen has also achieved a level of competency with his mutation that allows him to spatially lock only part of that which he is in direct or indirect contact with.
Weaknesses and Limitations: Eisen must maintain his focus in order to keep his mutation activated. This essentially leaves whichever palm or sole Eisen uses to spatially lock immobile as well.
The larger the mass of the object, the larger the focus required to utilize his mutation. Eisen’s spatial lock can also be overridden with sufficient force. If ever his spatial lock is overridden or he exerts too much of his power, Eisen suffers from mental backlash and muscle soreness of the arm or leg attached to the palm or sole used to spatial lock.
Eisen cannot spatially lock himself or other living beings.
Physical Abilities
General Physical Capabilities: Eisen is overall average with the exception being a stamina built up by his hobby of running and natural determination and mental resilience. Fighting Style: He punches like a sissy. Fighting Style Pros/Cons: Even sissies can land punches sometimes.
History Of Your Character Eisen was conceived by a surrogate mother, Lacey Garris, on June 2, 1997 whose sperm was donated by Jason McKinley, husband of Alicia McKinley. Halfway through Lacey’s surrogacy, however, Jason McKinley was imprisoned for drug abuse and Alicia McKinley no longer had the means of her own nor a desire to follow through with the child.
Garris happened to know of her two friends, Victor and Emmanuel Brandt-Garcia, who were looking to adopt a third child. Arrangements were made and Eisenhowever Brandt-Garcia was born on March 17, 1998, 7lbs, in MedStar Harbor Hospital with curly ginger hair and no complications.
Eisenhower, nicknamed “Eisen” grew up in Northwest, Washington DC on New Jersey Avenue. His fathers Victor and Emmanuel, whom he affectionately called Daddy and Papi respectively, raised him and his two older siblings, Braddock (6 years older) and Aurelia (4 years older). Braddock was adopted from a foster-care system and Aurelia was adopted from China.
Eisen’s fathers were quite aware of their childrens’ differences and struggled as any parents would to raise young men and women in a society that may not always understand and accept their family and way of life. Braddock and Aurelia went to public schools like all the other children. Yet, Eisen’s fathers made a different decision for him, for when Eisen first learned how to walk, he began to exhibit peculiar abilities. One day, Eisen crawled into Victor’s opened toolbox and began to play with the hammer. Seeing the danger, Victor tried to yank the hammer out of Eisen’s hand, but it was as if the hammer had been glued to the air by some special force. Eisen was adamant about keeping the hammer and once Victor let go, the hammer too continued to move again.
Taking into account Eisen’s natural head-strong nature, his fathers decided to prevent him from entering the public school system and to enroll him in online classes. Eisen at first grew jealous that his siblings were able to attend normal school and he wasn’t, but his jealousy did not last. His father’s were often busy at work and Eisen soon learned that once he finished his work he was free to explore the city with the understanding that his mutant abilities gave him this lifestyle that wasn’t like his siblings, but that he could endanger it as well if he slipped up.
Eisen’s elementary and middle school life consisted of doing the bare minimum for online classes, exploring the city in his free time, hanging out with neighborhood kids, and hanging around his dad Emmanuel. Emmanuel ran a hair-parlor and often took Eisen with him, meanwhile Victor managed sales and statistics in an office downtown. Eisen also learned a bit of Spanish, as Emmanuel is from El Salvador and would often have hispanic patients.
During Eisen’s highschool years, however, his father Victor became quite ill. At this point, his eldest siblings had moved out to their out-of-state colleges and he was the only one left at home. This put a stop to Eisen’s free-roaming lifestyle and forced him to grow in responsibility. To help pay the bills, since Victor could no longer work, Eisen decided to start his own business cleaning gutters. He began to use his mutation more and more during this time, without his parent’s knowledge, which made him a popular choice for gutter cleaning. One his way to work one day, Eisen caught a graffiti artist at work and gained inspiration to try it. His highschool years were then occupied with taking care of his father, his part-time job, and in spraying up the city. Eisen’s father grew well enough to get back to work just as Eisen was finishing up his senior year. He was 18 when he got his online highschool diploma and Eisen had made friends in the graffiti world, gaining reputation as the guy who scaled incredible heights to spray his designs. At the same time, however, one of his graffiti friends nicknamed ‘Xia’ noticed that Eisen was a mutant. Xia brought Eisen to an underground mutant fight in Brooklyn and Eisen was hooked. Many times before had he questioned what to do with his life, and knowing his mutation had already decided for him that he did not grow up and get an education like the other kids, encouraged him to follow Xia. Eisen told his father that he and Xia would be continuing his gutter cleaning business in New York, where he was certain there would be more gutters to clean.
The next couple years were characterized by couch-hopping, high-bidding, gruesome fights and an introduction to the gory and almost pornographic reality of the underground mutant life. Xia turned out to be the girlfriend of one of the mutant scouters. Eisen convinced Xia that he was no fighter, but would be loyal to the industry. Eisen advertised for fights, prepped the fighters, and even tossed out a couple of dead bodies. He was adverse to the atmosphere at first, but the sheer adrenaline kept him going and he grew eyes for Xia, wanting her for his own.
Eisen soon solidified himself as a referee, using his mutation to stop fighters from killing each other at the last moment, and earning himself the nickname ‘Pause’. Yet, he grew more and more weary as Xia’s boyfriend grew greedier and wealthier. Realizing he would not have a chance if he didn’t swoop in and snatch her, Eisen planned on taking care of Xia’s boyfriend in the night after a huge fight, when he’d be drunk and high. He lost his nerve once the fight ended, and decided to go home. The next day, he learned that Xia and her boyfriend had passed away in the night due to a drug overdose.
Eisen soon left the underground arena, realizing his blindness toward the mutant fights was caused by his own ignorance. He bore little hatred toward the underground scene, since those mutants came mostly out of their own accord, but grew bitter toward his blind love for Xia. Realizing he didn’t have much on his own, Eisen trained and applied for a job as a telephone wire installer and repairman.
At age 22, he lives in his single bedroom apt with a one-eyed cat named Nico, a job that has him fixing telephone wires, and an itch to start graffiti again.
Roleplay What’s your OOC alias?: Spero Where did you learn about this site?: Google Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Nope Sample RP:
The clerk behind the counter handed Eisen the plastic cup with a lid and a straw wide enough to suck up his pointer finger. The drink in the cup was a light purple and small black balls rested at the bottom, which swirled a little when he picked up the drink. Eisen turned to the chick with black bangs who had already pierced the top of the drink with her straw and abducted the small black balls through it.
“Is this a snack or a beverage?” Eisen asked, holding the straw in his hand like it were a spear. The clerk and the girl snorted in unison.
“How have you been in New York for three years and not have had Boba Tea?” She leaned forward, took the straw from him and stabbed his drink with it. He held the drink out away from his chest, as if it had been about to explode.
“I’ve lived 22 years and never heard of the flavor, ‘Taro’ either.” He took a sip and let the purple, creamy liquid sift through his teeth and soak his tongue with flavor. He swirled his tongue around and smacked his lips a little. He raised his lips and a smile began to form wrinkles on the side of his cheeks.
“Holy shit. This is good.” He took a larger slurp and caught three of the brown pearls in his lower mouth. He then bit down on them, his teeth getting caught mid-chew, as if they were round little gummy bears. His eyes widened, and he took larger sips, trying to suck up enough brown pearls to fill his mouth. One pearl snuck its way past his tongue and into his throat, causing him to cough loudly. He put a hand up to indicate that he was fine.
The girl laughed loudly, unafraid to be obnoxious or offensive with her laugh, and tugged on Eisen’s elbow sleeve. “Let’s go before you lose a lung and this place closes down because of you. There’s more to see in Chinatown”
Eisen let her pull on his sleeve, in fact he welcomed it. He felt a burning in his chest when he was around her, almost as if he had met his match. He was certain the burning wasn’t just because of the taro milk tea that had leaked into the wrong pipe during his last sip.