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.
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Sept 9, 2024 10:46:38 GMT -6
Jorge
There was something a bit endearing about standing in a room that was full of people cowering in fear. The looks he saw on their faces reminded him of that old story, the Pit and the Pendulum. Certain death awaited them, no matter which direction they took so people tended to stand, paralyzed, unable to make that final step towards eternity. It was musing, to say the least, and Jorge savored the looks on their faces as they looked between both him and the wild, blood-riddled wolf in the corner of the room. It seemed they needed a bit of a nudge.
Jorge turned his attention back to the wolf. the only thing he could think of was that these guys were having animal fights with trafficked animals. It wouldn’t be the first time he ran across something like this. Hell, a few of his consultants tried to sell him on how much money he could take if he participated in moving rare animals. Unfortunately, that had never been his style. As much as Poseidon loved money, trusting living creatures when it came to illegal acts was never wise.
Still, the wolf was a beauty. Maybe he could take him back to his own dimension and either train him up or set him loose in the wild? It was the least the creature was owed to make up for it’s shotty treatment. And yet, even as the thought crossed his mind, he found himself the recipient of a rather odd circumstance.
The wolf, seemingly hearing Jorge’s comment, actually shook its head, gathered some stray clothing, and proceeded to shove them into a nearby bag. That was certainly cause for alarm. Still, the crime boss didn’t react, not even when the wolf padded up to him, slinging the bag on its back and tilted its head as he faced him. Poseidon was notably impressed.
”Well...look at that,” Jorge said as he peered at the beast,a smile curling his lips. ”You’re either extremely well-trained…there’s something more to you than meets the eye.”
It was too perfect. Even though the wolf hadn’t made the indication, there was enough strangeness in the way the way the creature moved to prove to Jorge that he was possibly dealing with a mutant. He didn’t see anyone around controlling the creature, and the fact that he just watched it pack up clothing showed him that he was certainly dealing with more. Still grinning, the crime boss reached up, pulling the mask from his face. Casually he straightened his hair before nodding to the beast.
”Let’s you and me have a talk, shall we?” he asked sweetly. He nodded to Duke and gestured to the rest of the room. ”Duke? Handle this people as you see fit, please.” he turned back to the wolf. ”My new canine friend and I have some things to discuss.” he gestured for Wolfie to follow him out of the room as Duke advanced, setting eyes on the cowering group of people.
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Jorge
Duke loved this ****. The towering man in black tactical gear owned the mayhem that exploded around him. His metallic musculature easily deflected any and all bullets while he punched and hurled people to the left and right. Those that opposed him were like tossed around like rag dolls or immediately met a bloody end. There was a reason that Duke worked for Jorge Cervantes and that was because his brutality was completely unmatched. It was something the crime boss simply loved to sit back and watch.
But as much as Poseidon wanted to just enjoy the show, he was actively participating this time. And for as much brutality as Duke offered, Jorge himself was embodied a more sweeping and god-like approach.
Moving into the facility, the crime boss chuckled as several shots were taken at him. Parts of his body melted away to water before reforming, proving him to be completely unharmed. A few shots of his gold gun, and cruel neck snap, and Jorge proved himself to be just as capable as Duke. But it was when he decided to use his abilities that he truly shined.
Water. It was everywhere. Bubbling up from cracks in the concrete, water pooled throughout the facility before lashing out like tendrils from some unseen water deity. The crime boss was all smiles, watching as people screamed, picked up and smashed into ceilings, equipment, even drowned in only a foot of water. It was pure mayhem right now and each and every thug and criminal in this place was going to suffer for simply being in the man’s way.
A door burst open as more people attempted to flee. Some tried to stop and raise arms against the attackers but Jorge was already on it. With a sweeping gesture, a wave of water erupted from the floor, sweeping up the attackers and trapping them in a personal maelstrom that slammed them against walls and dragged them beneath the floating torrent of liquid. By the time Jorge released them from the unexpected attack, the blue-lipped, broken, fools were sprawled across the soaking concrete, trapped in individuals hells of pain, confusion, and agony.
Casually the watermancer stepped over their bodies, sighing as he listened to Duke handle the rest of this room. But, it seemed that this group had come in from some back area; he had to wonder what they were hiding in there. His mask still firmly on his face, he grinned as he stepped into the back, watching people cringing, struggling to maneuver around a pit and especially a massive beast that was sinking its fangs deep into the body of one of the workers. Judging from the area, the blood in the pit, and the fall carcass of what seemed to be a dog, he had a sneaking suspicion what was going on here.
He shook his head. Standing in the doorway, he blocked anyone else from trying to flee as they immediately saw him and started to back away cautiously. They were right to do so. Gold-plated gun in one hand, water snaking around his other, he tilted his head as he looked almost disappointedly at the rest of the people who eyed him.
”Seriously? Dog fighting?” he commented. Raising his fun he suddenly let off another round, killing a rich looking man who stumbled over. ”So crass.” His eyes then drifted to the busy wolf. ”And even black market animal trafficking?” Another shot as yet another fell. ”Pathetic.” He glanced back to the wolf. ”But you are a pretty one. I may have to take you home myself.”
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Sept 9, 2024 10:46:38 GMT -6
Jorge
Much like before, Jorge felt that surge of adrenaline. Even if he was in pain and humiliated, the detective was not one to be taken lightly. Threaten him all you want, it wasn’t something he hadn’t heard before. But threaten his family and the man easily turned into a raging bull who could only see red. His blood pounding throughout his body, the detective snarled as he moved onto his feet. One arm hanging limply to his side, took several steps towards the exiting villain before he broke into a run. He charged Poseidon but he wasn’t going to foolishly just tackle him to the ground. Instead he would show him what he could do with his powers.
Flesh melted away, turning transparent and liquified. Soon enough the detective vanished leaving only a tower, hulking beast of pure liquid that surged towards the mercenary. Massive fists raised, ready to drill the villain into the ground like a railroad spike. But, before he could deliver the blow, the man-god suddenly turned, running both hands into Jorge’ liquid body.
Immediately Jorge lost all control. His body was frozen in a state of attack, arms raised to strike, water swirling and dripping about him. But Jorge couldn’t move. He couldn’t will his limbs to make a single hit. Even in his most powerful form, it seemed to be completely absent of his control -- but it soon became apparent who did possess it.
Poseidon shook his head. He didn’t say anything at first. Instead he just stared into the humanoid face of the water beast that had barreled down towards him. His hand embedded deep in the other’s body he started to separate them, pulling them away from each other. It seemed to be meeting some resistance but the man continued to pull.
At this same time, Jorge’s body exploded with pain. He was being ripped apart -- literally.
Pain can cause seconds to feel like hours and this was utter agony. Then, with a sudden swipe, both Poseidon’s arms flew outwards to the sides, separating and causing Jorge’s watery form to disperse, ripped around unseen seams and sent flying into all corners of the room. Poseidon sighed, drying off his hands as he looked about the room.
”That’s what happens when you’re reckless, detective.” His eyes drifted across the room. ”When you pull yourself together, I want you to remember something, okay?”
Jorge could barely make sense of anything. This was a sensation he never thought he would feel again. When he had fallen into the oceans those years ago and dispersed to save his life, it had been done by choice. Now he was literally ripped apart and the pain and overflow of information was nearly too much for his mind to handle. Jorge drifted, droplets of water trying to reconnect but mixing with the water that had already filled the room. In this state of agony, Jorge tried to focus, tried keep Poseidon in his line of sight but it grew more and more difficult -- even when Poseidon removed his mask.
Would he remember that face later on? Would he remember seeing a doppleganger, a mirror image of himself standing in tactical gear in a room full of water? Would he remember that he was bested by someone who looked exactly like him? Only time would tell. What he would remember were his final words.
”Stay out of my way.” The sound of exiting footsteps filled his hearing and, like that, the drifting particles of Jorge Cervantes, fell into a slumber.
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Sept 9, 2024 10:46:38 GMT -6
Jorge
Ever watch a movie where it’s raining and through the efforts of visual effects magic the scene just stops, allowing the viewer to see every single drop of water? It was like that, only this wasn’t a special effect, this was real. Every drop of water in the room, ever last ounce of liquid paused in mid-air around the self-proclaimed god before it suddenly all burst forward in a single direction. That single direction just happened to have Jorge directly in front of it.
Jorge barely got the curse out of his lips as he raised his arms to turn and shield his face. The water hit him from a thousand different directions at once, each one ranging in feeling from a bee sting or a high-powered water hose. Water was everywhere, striking him with such a unified force that the detective was blown clear off of his feet and sent colliding back into a far wall at least twenty feet away. Had the man not partially turned while being blasted back, he very well could have heard the sound of his lower spine snapping, rather than the crack of his shoulder.
He fell, like a sack of potatoes, onto the ground. Jorge knew his shoulder was broken, he could easily feel the fact that it wasn’t right anymore. And despite the fact that he faced extreme danger, the man wouldn’t couldn’t move. He couldn’t get his feet to plant under him and lift him up from the ground. Instead he just laid there, struggling to regain his senses. But one thing was apparent, thundering in the man’s years despite confusion and pain, it was the sound of footsteps steadily approaching.
More of that mocking tutted filled the air as Poseidon advanced. With a disappointed sigh, the mercenary stopped short of the detective and knelt down. Arms resting on his knees, Poseidon just shook his head.
”I could kill you right now. Would be easy,” he snapped his fingers. ”But that would be like needlessly smashing a mirror. Look at you. What can you do to me? You’re just...a really poor reflection of something far better.” Reaching down, he grabbed Jorge, forcing him to sit up, despite the pain that radiated in his shoulder. ”But I’m still going to give you a chance,” he said, adjusting Jorge’s jacket. ”Oooh, nice jacket. Anyways, this is your one chance, Detective. If your not with my people, with mutants, then...I’m afraid that things will not end pleasantly for you. Got it?”
There was another smirk. Poseidon stood up, wringing water from his clothing as he straightened up his posture. With a roll of his neck, he turned to walk away from Jorge, but stopped a few feet from him.
”And before you get all blustery and bold, I don’t just mean you will hurt.” he threatened. ”Gemma. Chase. Marisol. I will personally put a bullet in-between each and every single one of their eyes.” Even if Jorge couldn’t see it, he could feel the malevolent grin and curled his lips. ”Do we understand each other?”
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Sept 9, 2024 10:46:38 GMT -6
Jorge
It must have been a poetic and strangely beautiful scene for anyone to walk in on. As Poseidon engaged Jorge, the two immediately fell into a give and take of punches, kicks, and grapples. All of this was only accentuated by the fact that water continued to splash and form into various offensive and defensive shapes as the two tangled. At one point, several spikes of water jutted up from the ground, to which Jorge responded by created pillar to climb safely above before leaping off to land behind his attacker. Oh it was indeed a lovely sight, watching as the two clash, each landing a hit before the other retaliated in an equally magnificent manner.
A stalemate. That’s what this was. It was the answer to the proverbial question of what happens when an immovable object meets one that can move anything. This was not merely man versus man, this was a clash of titans.
Jorge ducked, swooping out of several quick punches, before he lashed out, driving his knee into the other’s side. There was satisfaction in hearing a painful grunt from Poseidon’s masked face and another would come when Jorge followed through with a firm punch directly into the side of the man’s jaw.
Poseidon grunted, stumbling off to the side, away from the detective. He fell down onto all fours, taking a moment to catch his breath. Most would have assumed that a yield would come, but all that issued from the mercenary’s lips was a firm and mocking chuckle. Shaking his head, he carefully climbed to his two feet, rolling his neck and reaching up to where Jorge’s fist had connected with his jaw.
Still grinning, he sighed. ”Wow, you are impressive,” he said. ”You have me impressed.”
Jorge narrowed his eyes, still in his boxer’s position, ready for another round. He was getting tired, he could feel the quiver in his muscles, but he wasn’t going to back down if he perceived a threat to his family. ”Funny. That means little coming from a *itch.”
Poseidon laughed and clapped his hands together. ”Hah! And so crude too. Unfortunately, I’m afraid that our time is up. Clearly we are at a stalemate...well...so long as I keep thumbing down my powers so that you can keep up.”
”Excuse me?”
Another shake of his head. ”You don’t think this is my A game, do you?” Poseidon tsked the detective with a waggle of his finger. ”Come on, Super Cop. If I really wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”
Jorge rolled his eyes. ”As delusional as you are, you are not a god, ‘Poseidon’,” he clarified. ”You’re just a man. A man in control of his abilities. Just like me.”
Poseidon lifted his head. He stared at Jorge for the longest time, almost as if he were trying to decide the best way to proceed. Jorge could feel the other’s penetrating gaze as he glared at him from beneath his mask. And it was then that he felt it, the swirl of the water around him. Not just a few bits here and there, but every single drop of water, even the sweat that dotted Jorge’s forehead began to move towards the mercenary.
”See?” Poseidon started. The playfulness was gone from his voice. ”That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not in ‘control’ of my abilities. I’ve mastered mine.”
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Sept 9, 2024 10:46:38 GMT -6
Jorge
Jorge was going to scoff. He was going to dismiss the idiotic, supervillain-esque name the second he heard it. After all, this was New York City and if you heard one egomaniacal speech, you’ve heard them all. The detective was no stranger to it and it was to the point where he normally would have shot back some witty comment mocking the other for his choice in moniker. But two factors prevented him from stating such: 1.) the man was making a show of knowing everyone in Jorge’s close circle of family (an obvious threat), and 2.) the mercenary made a move. Jorge saw that flick of his wrist and immediately raised his gun, ready to issue him one final warning but his voice would fall dead in his throat.
The water. He saw it with his senses but it move too fast for him to really comprehend what was happening. A tendril of liquid lashed out from the water pooling around his feet. The whiplike vine of liquid snapped painfully across Jorge’s hand, causing him to immediately drop his aim, releasing a shot into the concrete ground. Another whiplash wrapped around the smoking barrel and the gun was forcefully pulled from his hand. He didn’t have any more time to think.
Hands reached out to his sides, summoning the water around him into a large, globular shield. The tendrils the other commanded were knocked away and absorbed into the swirling waters -- but only for a moment. As Jorge controlled the wall of liquid, he noted that some of it began to resist him, almost swayed in another direction. It was then that he felt the water bulge as part of it burst out, painfully shooting against him like water from a high-powered hose. Jorge growled, feeling his skin reddening through his clothing and quickly turned, sending the wave of water crashing off to the side.
For a few, brief moments, he had no idea what was going on. He felt as if he had lost control of his abilities but as he locked eyes with the cackling, masked man across from him, it began to settle in that it wasn’t his powers that were out of whack, it was the influence of the mercenary. He was controlling the water too. Jorge had never run across another water manipulator before and, now that he had, his was quickly trying to come up with something, anything that would even the odds.
The mercenary, however, grinned under his mask. A chuckle fell from his lips as he continued to pace. Raising his hands, a clear ring of water could be seen undulating around each wrist, a similar effect that Jorge possessed whenever he used his own abilities. And, while Jorge was too dumbstruck for words, the other was more than happy to continue talking.
”What’s wrong, Super Cop? You seem a bit stunned,” he mocked. ”Did you think you were the only one who could move the elements? Did you think only you had the gifts of a god?” His voice raised and suddenly both arms were jutted forward. A wall of water formed, complete with spikes that skimmed across the surface, aimed directly for him.
Jorge, snarling, reached out to the water around him, forming two, massive hands of floating liquid. Clapping both hands forward, the water gauntlets responded in kind, slamming into the wall of water, smashing it into a fine spray of mist. But the mercenary wasn’t stopped. Rather he seemed to anticipate this as, from the mist, several lances of water cut through the spray, flying towards the detective like javelins.
Jorge cursed, leaping out of the way, rolling across the water, but came to a sudden stop when an octopus-shaped tendril of water suddenly wrapped around him, pulling him up. Without thinking, Jorge reached out with his free hand, summoning water from the ground and forming it into a thick claymore he had seen on some fantasy movie Chase watched the other day. With a quick swipe with his “blade” the watery limb dispersed, causing the detective to fall, landing on both feet.
Poseidon only chuckled. ”Impressive. A little raw. So much potential though,” he teased. ”Let’s have a little fun, shall we?” Another burst of water was sent towards the detective but instead of there being a projectile following, the man himself closed the gap.
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Jorge
He didn’t need to hear it. He felt the snap in his mind as the switch suddenly changed from caution to all out anger. Whoever this man was, without saying it, had threatened the only people that Jorge ever cared about in this world. That meant he needed to act. Gun drawn and lifted high, the detective clenched his jaw as he kept a bead firmly on the unarmed man across from him. Just one excuse, any excuse, and the detective would feel fully justified in taking down a threat to his family. Hell, in the briefest of moments, the man almost felt compelled to lie and say the man came at him with a knife. Really, there was no one around to say otherwise.
But now. He was better than that and he knew it. So, keeping his fears in check, the detective merely continued to follow the pacing man, still almost begging him for an excuse. Still, he had to wonder, exactly how much this man knew? And what did he want? Simple questions but would he get straightforward answers? His mind raced to figure this out as he continued to eye the other warily. He as done being cute about this.
”Seems I’m a popular topic for you,” Jorge tried to take the emotion out of his voice but it was clear that the mercenary had gotten to him. ”Let me guess: mafia? Anti-mutants group? Who’s paying you to research me?”
That damn laughter. There was something so cutting and degrading about it, as if the mercenary was some cruel teacher speaking down to an exceptionally stupid child. He antagonist just continued to chuckle to himself, shaking his head as he placed his hands on his hips. When he finally did stop, he turned, facing Jorge, still making no move towards him. Rather he just stood there and sighed, shaking his head.
”And here I thought you were the smart one,” the mercenary said. ”No one paid me to do anything.” A sigh. ”I’m actually doing this completely of my own free will. Simply because, the second I heard about you, I had to see it with my own eyes. And, I have to tell you, I’m pretty disappointed in you…Detective Cervantes.”
Teeth ground so hard Jorge felt he jaw would pop off track. But keeping his composure to the best of his ability, he snarled. ”Who the **** are you?”
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Sept 9, 2024 10:46:38 GMT -6
Jorge
Jorge turned, his gun still aimed, and that was when he saw him. The man was tall, about Jorge’s height, wearing all black. Black tactical pants with a sweater and tactical vest. Over his face he wore a ski mask with only the eyes cut out, leaving him a vague shape in the darkness. Jorge wanted a better look at him but the coursing water that poured in from all sides was making it too hard to not be distracted. The other, maybe a mercenary by the looks of him, only continued to stand perfectly still, no weapons in his hands and yet he carried with him an air of such confidence that the detective wanted to vomit.
He narrowed his eyes, his gun still trained on the individual. He wasn’t armed but something told him that that didn’t make the other any less dangerous. His feet planted in spot, Jorge continued to watch the other, cast a glance to the left and right to ensure that no ambushes were in the making. So far there was nothing that he could tell but really that seemed pointless considering how much water was pouring out of the sprinklers.
The other was laughing, saying that he wanted to talk. The detective wasn’t about to outright believe that but he wasn’t going to gun someone down in cold blood either. So he had to play this safe and, still trained on the mercenary, he spoke firmly and with authority.
”Were you the one who called in the tip?” he asked. ”There are easier ways to arrange a meeting. That, you know, don’t require you breaking the law.”
The other snickered and shrugged his shoulders. ”Can’t blame me for wanting to be a little theatrical. After all, look who I wanted to speak with? The great, Jorge Cervantes.” With a click of his tongue the other continued. ”One of N.Y.P.D.’s most finest. A member of the X-Men as well,” he chuckled. ”And so powerful he could probably summon a goddamns tsunami if he wanted to.”
Jorge narrowed his eyes, gun still held at the ready. Water continued to pour on him and he started to wonder, exactly how much water was in this goddamn sprinkler system? It should have drained out after a few seconds! It’s been minutes now!
”You’re quite the flatterer,” Jorge said. The other started to pace so Jorge followed him with his eyes. ”However you have me at a bit of a disadvantage. You seem to know an awful lot about me. But...I have no ****ing clue who you are.”
The other winced and tutted at Jorge. ”Tsk, tsk, you really should watch that language, Super Cop,” he teased. ”You are a role model, after all.”
Jorge was getting irritated. The other flaunted like he knew Jorge’s deepest, darkest secrets when a quick Oogle search would have brought up all of this. So, instead, he tried to push past the disturbing familiarity of the other and just focus on what he wanted. He hadn’t attacked yet but as the mercenary started to pace, the inkling grew that a swift attack was on the horizon.
”Why don’t we cut the B.S.?” Jorge said, abbreviating as a tease for not cursing. ”What do you want? I’m hardly impressed by information you got from a search engine.”
A scoff. ”Unimpressed, huh?” A sigh and he continued to pace, his hands at his hips but not showing any weaponry. ”Tell me, how go the wedding plans between you and that adapted, Ms. Taylor? Your adopted brat of a child, Chase, taking it well?” He smirked. ”And how about that sweet and tender little niece of your’s, Marisol? She enjoying dance school?”
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Sept 9, 2024 10:46:38 GMT -6
Jorge
Jorge got scared from time to time. It was just a natural part of being a human. Yes, he was a mutant, and a fairly powerful one at that in some circles, but at the end of the day he was still a human being and suffered all the same pitfalls, insecurities, and fears that anyone can suffer -- especially when it comes to the unknown. When he saw the presence of another individual, standing in the middle of a massive room below him and just looking up, it was hard for his skin to not immediately start crawling. It was like something out of a horror movie. He could try to convince himself that it was just a trick, that maybe someone was just looking upward. But as he took a few steps away from that spot, it was damn near impossible to not notice the other’s head following his movements.
The hell was going on?
Not wanting to risk calling this in in case it was a hostile and he didn’t want to give away his position, Jorge pulled his handgun from his holster and tiptoed across the floor, made his way to the nearby stairwell. He turned but he could see that the other form was still following him, no matter how silent his footfalls were. Really, who was this person? Again that feeling crept across his spine to call for help but stubbornness stayed his hand. He was both an X-Man and a police officer. He wouldn’t be intimidated.
Making his way down to the lower level, Jorge was just about to reach the landing when a massive burst echoed like thunder in the air. The detective winced, trying to unclog his ears, but as he turned back, he found that his water senses were not completely unreliable. The sound of rushing water hit his ears and he realized that several pipes must have burst at the same time, causing the sprinkler system to go off. He winced, trying to ignore the sight of all the splashing water and focus in on his target but, again, it proved to be fruitless. The hell?
He stepped onto the bottom step, the sensation of water falling all around him. It was almost comforting, actually as this was his more basic element. He held sway over water like no other person and felt assured that if something happened, he would be able to protect himself. So, with a bit more confidence the detective stepped into the loading dock, gun up and pointed as he checked his corners and all areas. He couldn’t immediately sense the other’s location, but damn it, he knew that they were here.
”Hello?” he called. ”This is the N.Y.P.D.! Are you in distress?” If whoever it was could see him anyways, by play around?
Silence at first. Jorge stared into the darkness, only seeing and feeling water as it poured all around him. But, through the torrent of liquid he heard one other thing. It was faint at first, practically unheard if not listened for carefully enough. But as he did zero in on it, taking wet, cautious steps forward, it became all the clearer. It was laughter.
”Hehehehe…” the voice was low, rumbling, and strangely familiar. ”I’m absolutely perfect, ‘officer’” The word was said with such disdain. ”But we need to have a talk.”
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Sept 9, 2024 10:46:38 GMT -6
Jorge
So it wasn’t like the detective was expecting someplace fancy when he answered this call, but it definitely was not the best looking of places. Rather the rundown warehouse looked exactly like what “the bad side of the tracks” was supposed to look like. The husky of a building was massive, blackened out over various parts, and smelled of sewage, charcoal and standing water. He remember a year ago when this warehouse caught fire. Some hapless mutant had lost control of their abilities and damn near brought this this entire sector of the city. But, thankfully, the mutant’s powers managed to be contained to this area, but not without significant property losses.
Jorge eyed the “MUTIE” slurs spray painted on the greasy walls. It made sense that an anti-mutant gang would set up shop here. Several workers had been lost in this fire, not to mention city workers who had come in to try and stop it by regular means. Families were left behind, shattered by the experience, and now were struggling to pick up the pieces. It was almost the perfect recipe to start up some hate group, wasn’t it?
Shaking his head, Jorge moved past the hastily painted slurs and deeper into the building. There was a small part of him that nagged him, willing him to go back to his car and call for some back-up, but the more logical side of him felt like it was overkill. There was no way that this was anything more than just a simple, empty building.
So, moving deeper into the facility, Jorge kept his eyes open as he peered at the dark and dank corners. It certainly didn’t smell nice in here but other than that, he really couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary aside from those slurs and a few discarded bottles of beer that were, at most, a week old. He shook his head. There wasn’t anyone here now and the deeper he traveled into the building, the more likely that it became that he was just chasing ghosts.
Jorge stopped as he reached shadowy room that was completely abandoned. Still there was nothing. So, pulling out his phone he immediately dialed the precinct.
”Yeah, this is Detective Cervantes responding to the 10-50 out in the industrial district. I don’t really see anything here,” he explained. ”Just make a note to keep this address on the watch list for anti-mutant activities.”
”10-4.”
He sighed, hanging up the line. He needed to get out of here. He was certain that the stale scents were beginning to mix in an incredibly wrong way. However, just as the detective turned to leave, he stopped. At first he didn’t know why, he didn’t see or hear anything suspicious, but it wasn’t suspicious activity that stopped him. It was something different.
The water. He could sense the watery form of something a floor below him, in the loading areas. However, this wasn’t some transient sleeping or stuck in a hiding place. Rather, this person was standing perfectly still...in the center of a room...and was looking up, through the floor, directly at him.
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Sept 9, 2024 10:46:38 GMT -6
Jorge
It was the oddest thing. Jorge had not expected to get a call like this. Sitting at the precinct, the man had just finished putting a fairly busy day behind him. Loads of paperwork, a number of eyewitness testimonies to take, and some newbies to give the lay of the land. It was, by far, not one of his busiest days, but it certainly ranked up there. He was happy, therefore, when he spotted the clocked and noted that it was nearly time to go home, back to Xavier’s, and back to the loving arms of his bride-to-be, Gemma Taylor.
But, as with all things one looks forward to, Jorge found himself drawn back into the world that he was trying to escape from. A mysterious caller had dropped a tip, stating that there was suspicious activity at a local, burned out factory. Several anti-mutant slurs had been freshly painted and a few mutants had been attacked in the area. Fearing a anti-mutant gang or mob was in the works, Jorge would be called out. It was five before he was done for the day -- meant that it still counted towards his work day. But he was here to protect and serve, and serve he shall.
After quickly informing his colleagues that he was heading out to investigate the matter, Jorge excused himself from the precinct and climbed into his car. The paper cup with the plastic top that he carried with him was set inside the cupholder but it hardly seemed necessary at this point. The coffee inside and long ago gone cold, leaving risk of a coffee burn at nonexistent. He had accidentally allowed his coffee to go too long without drinking again.
Oh well. One of these days he will have a fresh cup, he was sure of it.
Once in the car, he slipped his keys into the ignition, revved the engine of the police issued vehicle, and pulled out of the parking space and into the street. Before long, the detective was en route to the scene, taking his time as there didn’t really need to be a press for time. Truth was that the anti-mutant slurs were definitely a probably but it wasn’t likely that anyone was still there. Still, he wouldn’t treat the incident like a cat up a tree. There was always a chance that someone was there so he needed to tread cautiously.
Quietly the detective hummed along with a song on the radio, some nameless pop tune that he would never admit to finding catchy in the first place. When he had arrived at his destination, the man was quick to turn off the radio, unbuckle his belt, and step out into the cool, evening air.
Just one glance and, yeah, he had to voice the only thought that popped into his head…
”Creep city,” he muttered. Adjusting his leather jacket, Jorge took a calming breath as he surveyed the scene and then made his way forward.
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Sept 9, 2024 10:46:38 GMT -6
Jorge
Poseidon was a man who loved to make an entrance. After all, when you name yourself after one of the most wrathful gods in classic mythology, it is only fitting that it belong to someone with an equally big personality. It leaves a lot to be lived up to and the watermancer was only too happy to flex these bigger-than-thou muscles. Still, when it came to a job like this, the man had to practice at least some kind of restraint. It would have been easy to simple bubble the entire facility and drown every one and thing inside. But where was the fun in that? Besides, it was best not to leave too big of a footprint just yet. There would be plenty of time later.
No, today, rather than use water to lift everything up, or send a tsunami crashing through the window, he would go for something a bit more direct. Besides, Duke had been rather coped up these days. It was only fitting to let a man of his caliber let loose some steam every now and again.
Knock-Knock!
The large, metal door resounded with Duke’s massive fist. The security inside, curious as to who would be knocking, carefully slid aside the flap of the peephole and peered out into the alley. There he found Duke, dressed all in black, a ski mask over his face. The last the guard saw was the barrel of a gun and the flash of light. The guard fell, soundlessly to the ground but the thunder cracked throughout the entire complex, sending everyone into an uproar. There were commands to bar the door, but before anyone could get to it, the thunder returned.
The door bent, doubling over like an amateur boxer squaring off against a old pro. A fist-sized imprint punched through the door, again and again, before a final hit sent it flying backwards and into the facility. People began to scramble, taking cover, all guns aimed towards the door. When Duke filled it, they fired, but their rounds had no effect as the biometal flesh beneath Duke’s skin merely rebounded every hit. He grinned inside of his mask as he stormed toward, one handgun raise, picking off people who were too dumbfounded to flee.
Another man attempted to rush Duke, but as soon as he collided with his body, the sound of crushing bones filled the air. He gasped, crumpling down, but was quickly scooped up by the towering Duke who the proceeded to use him as a shield as he continued to march into the room. Soon the whole place would be buzzing like confused bees having their hive knocked down.
A few made it past Duke’s attention, ready to flee, but were stopped when an arc of sharp water pummeled them like a firehose. Men gasped and gagged, struggling as they felt the intense water pressure practically flay off their skin. Some clutched their faces, feeling something wrong with their eyes, corneas burned by the unforgiving flow of water. But as they screamed, they were quickly silenced as more gunfire rang out, this time from a gold plated gun in the hand of another man.
Poseidon entered the room, smirking beneath his mask as he watched Duke take care of the majority of thugs. The rest were scattering and were easily picked off by Jorge as he followed behind. When one attempted to take a shot at him, the body of the crime boss instantly grew shapeless, letting the bullet pass unharmed, and resolidified. Poseidon merely clicked is tongue, lifted his gun, and fired back, put the man down with a piece of hot lead between the eyes.
The entirely facility was up in arms now. People were scattering, some were trying to lay down a defensive position. In other rooms people were gathering and burning evidence while others were looking for hiding places or someplace exit the building. Even in the back, where the illegal dog fighting was going on, the people were soon in uproar. First it was because of the rabid attack of the mad dog on personal, but it was quickly followed by the people screaming that the base was under attack. Those few guards who took M immediately popped their pills at attempted to engage in the fray, while others were trying to make an exit from mayhem.
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Sept 9, 2024 10:46:38 GMT -6
Jorge
It wasn’t a rare thing for Jorge to get personally involved in the affairs of the Syndicate. He believed, more than most, that if you were going to lead then you needed to be down in the muck with everyone. Everyone had to get their hands dirty, everyone had to spill a little blood. It was what kept him in the know of what was going on within his organization and provided him with a sense of respect from his people. After all, when the **** goes down, it pays to know that the person leading you is right at your side.
Of course things were all-together different these days. While Jorge used anonymity at his mask, he didn’t have to so much anymore. Thanks given to a spatial rip in spacetime, the crime boss found it actually quite refreshing to walk out into the world. He didn’t have to worry about SUPER, there were not zones special to just mutants, all-in-all, it was actually quite freeing. It also provided him with enough cover to actually do what he needed to do to ensure he had a foothold in this world.
Already members of his organization were making waves. M-facilities were being shut down, land was being coerced for him, and every day, new members were joining with hopes of bring mutants into the forefront of the world; these were good times. And Jorge was all the more willinging to ensure that they continued.
Word came to him that most of the M facilities were shutting down, but a few were still struggling to reband and keep themselves from falling apart. It was cute, sure, maybe even a little admirable, but not enough to keep them afloat. No, he would personally drag them down into the dark and leave them to suffocate in the choking, dark waters obscurity. M was the past -- Ambrosia was the future.
Sitting in a cheap car that had been stolen, Poseidon sighed, sitting in the back seat, adjusting dark clothing that he wore. His usual fine suit was traded off for more tactical gear, including black tactical pants, a dark sweater, and a ski mask that was scrunched up to his forehead. He was looking down at the digital watch on his wrist, sending out a few necessary emails and setting reminders, when he glanced up to see that his second-in-charge, Duke Manchester was staring at him, smirking.
”What?” Poseidon asked with a devilish smirk.
“Nothin’,” Duke replied with a snort. “Just astounds me that as we’re getting ready to bust this ****hole open and your setting up business meetings.”
Jorge scoffed. ”That’s because you’re not a businessman, my dear Mr. Manchester.” he grinned. ”After all, someone has to pay the bills” Ironically, between being a crimeboss and a entrepreneur, he still found the later to be the most stressful. On the last email, he read a quick report that mainly contained River's ramblings but with just enough explanation to provide relief. Good. It seemed that her side project was going very, very well. He offered her his congratulations and once the last message was sent, he turned back to Duke with a smirk. ”So, run through again what we’re looking at here.”
Duke nodded as he pulled up a sheet of paper and ran through the coded notes. “M facility. Several workers, a few low-level security, mainly street thugs looking for a quick buck,” he shrugged. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Lot of chatter on the secure lines, though.” Duke sighed. “Guess they’re double dipping the space. Sounds like they have some other illegal thing going on besides just processing that M garbage.”
Poseidon slipped on his black leather gloves. ”Sloppy,” he said with a cluck. ”Any idea what?”
Duke shook his head. “I’ve been listening in. Nothing concrete. But I think I caught a fragment of a conversation about animal crates. Either they’re also pushing exotiic pets or we having some kind of illegal fighting ring going on.”
”Well then,” Jorge said with a sigh. ”We’ll just have to watch on all fronts, won’t we?”
***
Inside the facility, towards one of the back spaces that had been retrofitted, there were the sounds of people shouting and cheering. The small, cramped space was lined with haphazard chairs, none of which were actually being sat in. Rather, everyone was standing, peering down into a pit that had been placed over a loading dock. There they could see the bloodshed as a pair of dogs barked and snapped at one another. One was already limping and the other was growling viciously as it circled. Both wore old and new scars, and both looked mad beyond reproach.
There was a lunge, a missed bite, and a pair of jaws wrapped around a neck. People cheered. Others booed. In the end, no one hear the whimpering of the poor pup that felt life seeping out from the vicious wound. The winner just continued to growl, hackles raised, eyeing the handlers who started to hop down into the pit. It was time to prepare for the next round.
