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.
There are certain things one will never forget so long as their brain health remains good. Things such as their first day of college, the first time they win an award, or the sensation of breaking a bone. Cafas was experiencing the last of those. It was rather unpleasant in an altogether excruciating way. He was in so much pain that he was in fact rather unaware of his surroundings, although he knew where he wasn't. He was not on the windowsill of his room at the mansion, and he was not in DocProfs infirmary having a ten-minute full heal done on his arm, and what felt to be a pair of ribs.
Please award the prize for being staggeringly stupid to THIS GUY!
No, where he was, appeared to be a hospital. This was because it was a hospital. Currently he was waiting to be seen, which felt a lot more literal now that he was in the crowded waiting room, invisible in a tide of sick and injured bodies. He really didn't need a diagnosis given the level of pain, but what he did need was a good idea of how badly he'd done himself in that day.
Next time don't tempt Him.
Him sat next to Cafas, Him appeared to be sleeping, in the least believable way possible. Him appeared to be barely trying to hide the fact that Cafas was going to be ignored. Him was probably only there to make himself feel better. Him was Calley, of course. Who else could it possibly be but Calley who would push Cafas out a window the exact day DocProf had left town. Cafas didn't hold it against him though, he had asked for it. He didn't even care if Calley's acting was bad, he was in far too much pain to worry about nonsense like that. "Why is your hair pink anyway? You didn’t do that just to get me in trouble did you? Cos that would be dumb. Oh and if that's mine you know that doesn't wash out right?" Great now he was talking (between shallow breaths and gasps of pain) to someone pretending to sleep to ignore him.
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 3, 2011 13:46:41 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Calley wasn’t pretending to sleep. He was just sitting, his feet stretched out in front of him, his shoulders slumped. He had his eyes closed because present company was boring. So was the hospital, in general. So was everything.
He couldn’t have known about DocProf. What adult leaves behind a school full of self-destructive idiots to go to the Bahamas? Sheer irresponsibility.
Cafas shifted positions slightly. Calley could actually hear the wince in the way he breathed, and/or temporarily ceased to. As the case may be. Calley hadn’t been half as much of a baby when his tail had gotten ripped off. Seriously, how had Cafas survived to adulthood?
And now he was babbling on about hair dye. Oh joy.
“Yeah. I’d noticed.” The shifter grudgingly answered. “It’s been screwing up my shifting.”
Cafas was somewhat happy Calley was having power troubles due to his little stunt. He hoped it wasn't a painful problem though, just annoying and distressing. That is what he got for screwing with Cafas' life in ways that didn't concern him. He left silence drift back in again (as much as it could in a room full of beeping, alarms, people running every which way, and the shouting) and went back to his painful breathing. Falling out the window had hurt, quite a bit in fact, but he supposed he shouldn't be surprised; gravity was always getting him down.
Wow I hope this get seen to soon
Some guy was raced past him on a stretcher, a blood red towel held to his arm. Cafas thought the colour a bit tasteless given the purpose. Little did Cafas' pain clouded mind know, that towel had been pure white less than a minute before. It was so loud in that room; there were so many people, so many cameras, nowhere to hide. It was Cafas' new personal hell. Minutes had expired since his hair dye comment and if anything the room was just getting louder, though that might have just been Cafas getting more and more frustrated with the combination of pain and noise.
Hopefully I'll get taken care of soon, I really would like to get back to the mansion.
The lack of talking was also beginning to bug Cafas, so he decided pained speech would be better than pained silence, even if it was only to distract him from the whole arm thing. "Why are you here? Generally those who push others out windows do not hang around. Not without some other reason anyway?" He left the slight pause partly due to the need for a painful intake of breath, and partly because the rest was an afterthought " And before you say it, no, I'm not looking for you admit undying love, I gave up on that quite some time ago."
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 13, 2011 13:37:07 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Something major must have happened. The bloody man didn’t tip him off, or the surge of scrubs and surgical masks racing down the hall; those, they’d seen running past a few times. That’s what happened when you spent a cozy afternoon been sitting side-by-side in the ER. The cameras, on the other hand, were new.
“Can you give us a statement about—”
“Maxine Ralls, Wolf News, on the scene from—”
“What is the severity of—”
“The hospital is making no statement at this time. If you could please move outside, we have people to treat—”
Yeah, about that. He was sitting next to a person that needing treating. Could they please just squeeze Cafas in, between the gunshot wounds and the car accidents and the little kids bawling their eyes out? There was one of those two rows away. Calley glanced at it, and quickly went back to staring down at his shoes. He’d actually put shoes on for this. He hoped Cafas appreciated that.
But no, Cafas couldn’t have cared less if he were here. When Pinky moved on, he moved on hard.
“I’m here,” Calley snarked, “because there was nothing on TV. What? You want me to leave?”
Security guards were still herding the reporters out; one of them seemed to be trying to pry a mesh of paperclips off of his kneecap. That kid two rows over was still crying. The jerk next to him was still in pain.
Is this how normal people got healed? Because it sucked.
Cafas was ignoring the commotion to the best of his ability because he assumed he would be greatly and irrationally angered by it, based on nothing more than the fact that their attempts to grab a story was leading to the extension of the period of time before someone addressed him, and at the very least did something about the pain. And the pain of those around him, of course... Still when one caught the sound of a voice and name of someone they disliked it was hard to completely shut out the circumstances around their presence. He assumed it was to do with the guy who had just been wheeled straight past them before, the one with the shouting and the tubes, and the stuff he assumed was blood.
Maxine Ralls, I count myself lucky you have someone else to distract you.
To add tot he situation Calley was being snarky some more, not that Cafas could honestly say he was surprised, he'd been being snarky for quite some time, why assume he had stopped? Still, the snark begged the question of how he felt he had been wronged in this situation, no one had been twisting his arm and forcing him to come with Cafas to the hospital. Some people just made no sense. "If I wanted you to leave, I would have told you to leave, not enquired why you are here. Honestly, the way you're acting you'd think I'd insulted you something awful. Just chill out mate."
Speaking of chill, I could use some ice, or anythi...
In answer to his unspoken prayers (or so it seemed to Cafas) a nurse came and directed him towards X-ray, and gave him a white pill that he suspected would make him feel way better than he did. He downed it and turned to Calley. "Coming? Never know, you might get lucky, you might get to hold my hand while if they need to put the bone back in place, which seems pretty likely." a cheesy, slightly teasing wink followed his hand holding comment as he turned towards the nurse, who apparently needed to guide him all the way to the X-ray room. "Oh it's fine, thank you, I'll find my way, you seem to have your hands full out here as it is."
He assumed Calley would follow despite his remarks, he seemed like he was already bored as it was.
Posted by Cheshire on Nov 27, 2011 11:26:11 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
He followed, but only to get away from the waiting room, and because someone had to make sure that Cafas made it home. Especially with nurses slipping him nondescript pills. And there was Cafas, just sending them down the hatch without so much as a what’s-this-do. Unquestioning trust in medical professionals just couldn’t be healthy.
“Pfft,” Calley pffted, with verbose pfftidity. “I want to hold your hand about as much as I want to duck into the broom closet and make out with you.”
They were passing just such a closet now, per chance.
“...And I want to duck in the broom closet make out with you about as much as never.”
Just to be clear. And so he didn’t hold Cafas’ hand, all the way down to the x-ray room.
The Pfft that was the response to his handholding was pfftacular. Though the comment that followed didn't seem like a half bad idea. He knew Calley wouldn't go for it though, as his disclaimer seemed to be implicating, though Cafas was not really one to leave such a wonderfully phrased sentence to not have a joke. "As much as never huh? So what you're saying is you've never before felt such a strong urge to make out with me in a broom closet? Geez Calley you might have to come out of that closet before you can duck back in." Cafas laughed a little bit, he found himself funny.
Hmm I do believe I can no longer feel my face.
SLAP! The sound was amazing, it echoed, even in the noisy hospital corridors. He knew it should have hurt awfully, but he felt nothing. Had he been intelligent and less drugged he may have concluded that slapping himself as hard as he could might have been easily subbed out for pinching himself to test if he had any feeling in his face, but as it was, he giggled a little more and looked at Calley. "I can't feel my face... It's awesome."
And that is why hospital grade pills should stay in hospitals.
He reached the X-ray room where doctor was waiting impatiently, though when she spoke and gently guided him to the correct room she was nothing short of impeccably polite, if not a little flirty, which Cafas assumed was just because he was so amazing. The rational side of him was quite asleep.
...The things coming out of Cafas’ mouth, masquerading as words, did not merit reply. It was clearly the drugs talking. It was clearly the drugs—
—Slapping his own face? What? Calley half-reached out to grab the other boy’s hands, until he caught a doctor down the hall giving him a the look. The look! As if he’d been the one to hit Cafas! Out a window, sure, but not in the guy’s face. Calley shoved his hands in his pockets, and sulkily trailed Cafas into the x-ray room.
Where the drugs made the pink-haired genius flirt with a wispy-haired woman of highly questionable repute. Her name tag said ‘CANDY.’ ‘MOUSTACHE’ is that name that came to Calley’s mind. Cafas just kept smiling, like the things she was saying were great.
“Hold your arm still.”
“Here’s your x-ray.”
“Now we need to splint it. This may hurt...”
Calley slipped his hand into Cafas’. Just to stop the guy from hitting himself again, you understand.
Pain is painful. But having a bone shifted inside ones arm back into alignment, that brought whole new levels of meaning to the word. He felt it through that white pill he had consumed. He had a feeling he may have teared up a little, and the muffled yowl through gritted teeth was more than apparent to any who cared listen. He grasped whatever it was that had found its way into his other hand like his life depended on it. The doctor, who seemed a lot less pretty after that, kindly informed him that the worst of it was over. He happened to disagree, that was his sword arm.
He looked down to see what he was gripping. He followed the trail of arm that lead from the hand he saw up to the shoulder then to the face of a certain Calley. Cafas smiled, and barely noticed the smile, wink, call me and careful slip of the piece of paper into his back pocket. He noticed when she grabbed his butt though. He smiled back, promised he would, and then left to get his cast fitted, which he was assured would not take long. X-rays held securely under his arm he started in the direction he had been pointed. It was only a short distance, and he downright refused to let go of Calley's hand, which made everything seem a little brighter somehow.
Hmmm, do I make a closet comment?
He decided against it, walked in the appropriate door, and was in and out in no time, with a nice piece of fibreglass wrapped around his arm. He knew it would feel horrible for the entire time it was on. "You know, I kinda wish I'd landed with my other arm. This one is my primary writing hand and my handwriting sucks as it is."
Funny, Calley had just been thinking something along those lines about his arm. Specifically, his hand. His right hand. Which Cafas didn't seem likely to release from captivity anytime soon. So here they were, walking down a public hallway, holding hands. Publically.
"Just don't be expecting me to wait on you until the DocProf gets back," he snapped. "I could maybe carry your plate at dinner, but you'd better carry your own drink. And if you want any class notes, you can just forget it—I don't do notes." He could probably find a smart kid's notebook lying around somewhere and photocopy it, though. If he had to.
They were passing through the waiting room. So many eyes, with nothing better to stare at. He tugged on Cafas' hand, trying to drag the pink-haired deadweight towards the doors faster. He determinately stared straight ahead and a little to the wall, ignoring any and all warm feelings in his cheeks.
Cafas gave Calley his best approximation of a quizzical glance at the mention of waiting on him. Cafas was a big boy, he was sure he would survive without a cat-boy slave. Though he knew the Internet would eat that up. In fact it would be a brilliant business if Calley were willing to do with it. "Don't kid yourself, I pull 85s and I show up just enough not to fail. Also I made no mention of you waiting on me, I can handle myself just fine. Though if you're offering..." Cafas smiled at Calley, genuinely, not evilly, the drugs didn’t allow him to think enough to get fun ideas.
Cafas stumbled as he was pulled along faster, and realised Calley was blushing quite hard. Cafas looked around the room briefly, subtly, and noticed the people looking at them. One quick mental calculation later, he let go of Calley’s hand. ”Hey, thanks for the help man but I think I can stand by myself again now.” Just loud enough to be heard, not loud enough to make it look suspicious, the perfect lie. So Cafas sold his lie by walking shakily and not quite straight, though the last part wasn’t put on…
The New York air smelled… New Yorky as he stepped outside, slightly behind Calley. The big apple was still bustling despite the fact that it was nice and dark. It really did live up to its reputation. Cafas stood for a second, deciding which direction was true up, and trying to figure out if he just felt like he was standing diagonally or if he actually was. After a brief moment he felt okay again. ”Thanks for coming with me. I needed a friend here, even if it was out of guilt.” The metal manipulator chuckled to himself, watching the comings and goings of the hospital car park. ”and don’t worry, I won’t read too much into the hand thing, I know you were just being nice.”
Good so far.
”I’m also sorry ‘bout how I acted earlier. I shouldn’t have taunted you, and I deserved the fall for how much of a jerk I’ve been to you. Rejection hurts, but I should have stopped to think about this whole thing and how it affects you. I mean hell, I told you that I love you, I’d’ve freaked out too in your position.” He sincerely wished his mouth would stop running, it just, wouldn’t. Not until he had uttered every last word. He’d been going fine up until the third sentence. ”Hey, wanna see if I can ride that bike?”
Posted by Cheshire on Dec 11, 2011 13:34:40 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
He took his hand back, and played it cool all the wibble-wobble way out the door. Nothing going on here, folks.
He thanked Calley for being there. Promised not to read too much into it.
He apologized, and nothing creepy came crawling out of his mouth along with the words.
The shifter slapped a hand against his forehead. "You were doing so well, right up until the bike thing."
Which meant no, kids. No: no bikes for Cafas.
"Listen. I'm going to say this once. And if you make me repeat it, I am going to put you on that bike and send you into traffic."
"I didn't mean to push you out that window. Which means I owe you an answer." Because that was Cafas' deal, wasn't it? Explain why you're acting jealous... or push me.
"I was acting jealous because I was jealous. It didn't suck going out to lunch with you, that one time. Maybe we could do it again." The shifter put up his hand to call a cab. Eye contact with Cafas not required. "Not until the drugs wear off, though."
