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.
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 11, 2012 13:21:22 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
Lee and the kid weren't home. Not just tonight; he'd kept a watch on the apartment a few days running, ever since the third murder. Lee had never gone in or out. The lights were only on when Tarin was at home. There was no crib, no late night wake ups to feed the kid, no diapers coming in with the rest of the groceries. Only Tarin lived there; he was sure of it. Not even the dog was at home.
Lee and the kid weren't home. It was the last evidence he needed. He'd say it confirmed his fears, but that was a joke—he'd always known it would come to this. He just hoped that Lee had taken the kid and left when she'd realized the same thing he had; hoped to God that she'd realized it soon enough, that the man hadn't—
He parked the car two blocks away, near an alley that cut the walk in half, if a man was confident enough to walk it in the dark. Rupert checked the clip on his gun; put it back in its shoulder holster, under his suit jacket. A carefully folded paper rustled in his pocket, ready to be left with the man who'd earned it.
Spirit Medium
Murderer of Yuki Silverson, human, age 28. Murderer of Shiori Jameson, human, age 26. Murderer of Kathy Shiraishi, precog, age 27. Murderer of Chitori Ishikawa, human, age 27.
God knows the rest.
The lock on the man's door was a joke. His floor was carpeted, and the floorboards under it didn't much care to creak. Not even his damn little Pomeranian was there to defend him. Rupert felt almost bad, making it into the bedroom that easily. Taking out Tarin always had been a cakewalk; it wasn't the man who was dangerous. It was his power. Wasn't that always the thing, with these damn muties? If they could just control themselves, Rupert wouldn't have to be here: he wouldn't have to be standing over the man's sleeping form, with a gun pointed at his head, about to kill a guy who had decent taste in scotch.
Damn it.
There was just one thing he had to know, before the end. He gave the man's bed a friendly kick to wake him up.
"Where are Lee and Kevin?" He asked. "Do you even know?"
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Nov 11, 2012 16:15:04 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
1,433
4
May 9, 2024 22:06:25 GMT -6
It was late, and Tarin had called it an early night. There were so damn many loose ends to be tied up in New York, and so many of those took so much time. It was exhausting, and he had been working himself to the bone. There was probably a pun there, but by the time he'd gotten home and ready for bed, the medium had been too tired to notice.
Sweet dreams were a little harder to come by now that Lee was gone. It had simply been too dangerous for her to stay in the city though. Too dangerous for all of them. The decision had been hard, and the time since harder, but Lee and Kevin had crossed the border into Canada. It wasn't obscenely far, and a weekend commute wasn't out of the question, but it was still hard being apart.
At any rate, Tarin was sleeping. Sleeping soundly. With his mouth open, and a little drool running down the side of his cheek. Yeah. That was how he rolled.
At least until some asshole kicked his bed.
The bed shook, and Tarin's eyes shot open. Having a baby made a guy a light sleeper. It was dark still, really dark, and there was a figure by the bed. The medium's eyes narrowed slightly, it was a living person...and that voice.
Tarin pushed himself up on an elbow and ran a hand through his sleep-tousled hair.
"Rupert? What the hell? I'd assume they're in Canada."
This schtick again? Why wasn't he afraid of the gun pointed at his head?
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 11, 2012 16:30:42 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
F***.
The guy didn't even know, did he? Of course he didn't. How many had he killed the last time, before he'd figured it out for himself? Oh wait—he probably wouldn't have, if he hadn't woken up with blood on his hands. This ghost had a more subtle MO; 'meticulous' was the word the police reports were using. Death hadn't changed that; it had just taken the reports from the leading Detective's hands, and gotten an illegal photocopy slipped his way. There were still boys on the force who had a good idea of what he did with his free time; boys who knew when something wouldn't end well, if everything was done by the books.
"Tarin, you're possessed," Rupert said, staring down the barrel of the gun. "You've been possessed for at least three weeks now. There are four women dead."
"Now I need you to think carefully, and not be a dick. Are Lee and Kevin safe? When was the last time you saw them?"
Canada. Lee was from Canada, wasn't she? That... could almost make sense.
Or it could be something Tarin was telling himself, to keep the memories at bay.
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Nov 11, 2012 16:54:34 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
1,433
4
May 9, 2024 22:06:25 GMT -6
This again? Tarin simply sat and listened as Rupert tried to tell him he had been possessed for three weeks. It hadn't all been unicorns and rainbows either, from the looks of that gun in his face, so the medium kept the snark to a minimum. "Rupert. No. I'm not." Tarin said, oddly touched that the psychopath honestly had Lee and Kevin's wellbeing in mind.
"Cell phone is on the table. Lee's number 2 on the speed dial." he said, as calmly as possible.
"She's going to be pissed if you wake up Kevin."
He was curious about this ghost thing. Obviously, something was up. For now though, he needed to make sure the bullets stayed where they were.
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 11, 2012 17:11:15 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
Rupert's off-hand crossed under his gun arm, slowly picking up the phone. He flipped it open with his thumb, dialed the two by touch, and kept the gun on Tarin as it rang.
...Lee was pissed.
He finished his apologies, and snapped the phone shut with a cringe and a glare in his eye that just dared the medium to say something. He tossed the phone towards Tarin's chest, and holstered his gun again.
"Apparently you were in Canada for the fourth murder," Rupert said. Well, bully for the mutie.
And Lee might be pissed, and Kevin might be crying, but both of them were fine. Something in his shoulders loosened.
"Canada?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at the man. Why were Lee and Kevin in...? Not important. He ran a hand through his hair. "Can ghosts kill on their own? Without a..."
'Meat sack' was such a harsh term. 'Possessee' sounded like some kind of tampon. Rupert settled for motioning at Tarin. In plaid boxers and a white shirt, the tattooed freak was the picture of night-time modesty. Thank god he didn't sleep in the buff; that wasn't something Rupert needed to see again.
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Nov 11, 2012 17:27:11 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
1,433
4
May 9, 2024 22:06:25 GMT -6
Yup. Lee was pissed. Tarin simply couldn't control the smirk as it spread across his face. Rupert tossed him the phone, and Tarin set it back on the night stand. Lee had a screaming baby to deal with now, and Rupert to blame.
It turned out that life was still pretty good.
There were murders happening, and Rupert thought that a spirit was responsible. The next question was a good one, and since the gun had been put away, Tarin was in the mood to answer. Given his history, the assumption Rupert had made hadn't been unreasonable
The questions still hung in the air though, both of them. Why was everyone in Canada and could a spirit kill without a possessed body?
"Things were getting weird here for a long time. Lee and Kevin went on an extended visit to see his grandparents. It's close enough I can commute on the weekends."
That one was the easy answer. As for the second question, Tarin had an answer, but it needed to be worded carefully enough to keep that gun out of his face. Rupert seemed to have a problem with the whole, 'my spirits rip people limb from limb.....thing'.
"As far as I know...a sprit can't directly interact with a living thing. They can throw stuff around, and if the conditions and the person are right they can possess..."
There. That was vague enough.
"But...to continue your metaphor...the dress has to be the right size and color. Nobody wants to look like a sausage."
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 11, 2012 17:48:44 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
"God, yes," Rupert agreed, stepping out of the way so the man had a clear path to his dresser.
To say that things had been weird in New York City was an understatement; to put it in the past tense was wishful thinking. Things had gone off the rails here years ago, when giants stomping down the streets, unicorns in the sewers, and city-wide hallucinations had become a regular occurrence. Even if Lee was part of the mutant problem—and the kid was on the fast track to be one, too, with his pedigree—Rupert couldn't blame her for high tailing it to a place that was a little more wholesome for a bouncing mutie babe to grow up in.
"Collin Washington," the ex-cop said, leaning against end of the man's bed. "Died a month ago in jail. Before that, he had a thing for Asian women, black hair, under five foot five, mid to late twenties, newly married. It took us—it took the police three years to catch him. He's good. And his style is... distinctive."
"There have been four more murders, starting the week after his death."
He crossed his arms; his hand brushed up against the gun under his jacket.
"What kind of dress would a man like that be looking for? Could it be someone normal, or would it have to be a mutie with a power like yours?"
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Nov 11, 2012 22:16:11 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
1,433
4
May 9, 2024 22:06:25 GMT -6
The path was cleared and Tarin rolled out of bed, blinking sleep from his eyes and trying to get his body to burn off the residual adrenaline from waking up with a gun in his face.
Rupert kept talking, and Tarin pulled on a pair of rumpled jeans out of the bottom dresser drawer. The guy in question had been a serial killer, and was just the kind of twisted prick that would keep on playing his games well after he'd been relieved of his earthly coil.
Three years? The guy had been a pain in the ass while he was alive, obviously he'd be a pain in the ass now.
As far as Rupert's questions. Tarin walked past the ex-detective and made his way towards the living room. Minds were about to be blown.
"You're going to want some scotch for this." he said.
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 20, 2012 12:50:01 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
"Teacups? What, did Lee take the tumblers with her?" Rupert snorted. Well, why the hell not. Wouldn't want to break tradition; not when it had been working so well for their relationship.
The ex-cop trailed the mutant into his kitchen. It was a nice set up, if a bit barren and bachelorized. He was willing to bet that if he opened that refrigerator, he wouldn't find the building blocks of three healthy meals a day. It was clear that Lee and the kid hadn't been here for some time; maybe a few weeks, maybe more. He hadn't exactly been keeping tabs on the wholesome x-family's life, until these murders had started. Last he'd heard, they'd been well on their way to 2.5 kids and a white picket fence with a ghost-shaped mailbox.
He took a seat at the table, as Tarin played the role of barkeep.
"Nice place you've got here. A little more... classy than your last apartment."
Classy, and obviously more expensive. Significantly more. Which was an interesting move up the social ladder, given that as far as Rupert knew, the man had been unemployed for the past two or year years. He'd shut the doors of his medium shop, and... acquired a new source of revenue, obviously. Just where was that money coming from? In the days Rupert had been watching, Tarin hadn't exactly been going to work and back. The man was clear of these deaths; that didn't exactly leave him lily white in the eyes of the law, or of New York's growing vigilante population. It might be something to look in to. Later.
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Nov 20, 2012 16:57:12 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
1,433
4
May 9, 2024 22:06:25 GMT -6
Rupert followed and Tarin snorted at his comment about the tea cups. The tumblers were in the cabinet, of course, right next to the tea cups. For some reason it just didn’t seem right to drink the scotch any other way. It was almost a tradition. As was the gun in the face, if he thought about it.
Man their relationship was screwed up.
Anyway…they were going to make some progress, but there were things that Rupert didn’t know. The thought brought a slight smile to Tarin’s face, there was probably a twenty-volume encyclopedia out there of things Rupert Kelley didn’t know. This was just one of them.
As he poured, the medium spoke.
“There are lots of people out there like me.” That was the first bomb, but Rupert was going to assume he was talking about mutants. ”And I don’t mean mutants.” There. That would clear things up.
Next, he brought the cups to the table.
”Where do you think ghost stories come from? If everyone who had ever seen a spirit was a mutant, shit would have hit the fan on that whole thing ages ago. As far as I can tell, my mutation and the whole spirit-seeing thing aren’t exclusive to one another. They just work really well as a team.”
That would take a second to digest.
”As far as possession goes? That is a lot more rare in my experience, and may have something to do with being a mutant. Honestly though, I‘m not sure.”
There was something he could do though.
”Want me to ask around?”
As for the apartment.
"I invested some money from a workplace accident a few years ago, and have been doing some freelance consulting work. It pays the bills."
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 20, 2012 17:36:48 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
He took a sip—a nice, slow, moderate, middle-of-the-night sip. The sip of a man who was still on duty, but needed a drink. Yeah, he was going to need liquor for this chat.
"So freaks who aren't certified freaks can see dead people? Lovely." The ex-cop asked, setting his cop back in front of him. "How common is it?"
It made sense: ghost stories were as old as humanity, and persisted even in the present. You could see a ghost, and no one would even jump to labeling you a mutant—as far as weird crap going down, that was getting to be a rare thing. It was a common ability, too, assuming that even of a fraction of the stories were true. Which meant it was either the world's most common mutation, or something that normal people could do. Only some of them, though, by the sounds of it.
"Does it come with any of your," he wiggled his fingers in the air, searching for the word, "Ghost-whisperer hoodoo? Or is that your x-gene kicking things up a notch from what a normal person could do?"
He was going to say something else, but he was momentarily distracted by something else. "What the hell kind of insurance company pays out for your kind of 'workplace accident'?" God, he'd have loved to see the itemized bill for that one. He hadn't come here to investigate insurance fraud, though; back on topic.
"Any asking around you could to would be helpful, but it has to be quick." He took another sip. Just a sip. "The third victim was a precog. She left the dates for the next three murderers; no one realized what it meant until the first had already happened."
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Nov 20, 2012 18:30:38 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
1,433
4
May 9, 2024 22:06:25 GMT -6
Tarin nodded his head. The whole “freak” thing wasn’t even offensive anymore.
”Yup, they can.” he said, matter of fact. As for the rest...
”And yeah. All the special stuff is all me. Everyone I’ve met who could actually communicate with the dead was a mutant. There sure are a lot of hacks out there though. Some of them really good. Everyone else is stuck with the creepy glimpses and inability to figure out what’s really going on.”
He shrugged.
“Guess we can’t all be lucky.”
What kind of insurance company indeed. Tarin simply grinned and shook his head. Letting Rupert believe it was an insurance claim was way easier than saying, “A superhumanly strong weirdo broke my skull then gave me a million dollars.”
Quick…the medium could do, he nodded his head to Rupert’s request and glanced around the room.
”I’d have to go up to the rooftop, but I could do it right now if you wanted. I know a couple guys who owe me a favor.”
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 20, 2012 19:53:01 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
"What."
It wasn't a question; don't confuse it with one. Please. Really, he didn't want to—
And there went his imagination, filling in the gaps. Rupert picked up his teacup, and drained it.
"You know," he said, "this was almost a normal conversation." By their standards, anyway. Hell, he hadn't even pistol whipped the man yet. Clearly that meant the universe was out of whack; clearly that meant that Tarin need to go up to the rooftop, and get ethereal man-hugs from Casper the undead snitch.
Rupert stood up, and went to the counter. Without a word, he topped off his teacup; then and only then did he give Tarin a broad lead the way gesture. No way was the man going up alone; it would be just his luck for the guy to go up clean, and come down possessed.
"What does a man even do, to get a ghost owing him a favor?"
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Nov 20, 2012 20:54:44 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
1,433
4
May 9, 2024 22:06:25 GMT -6
What happened next was sincerely chuckle-worthy, Tarin decided as he moved to slip on some shoes and grab a hoodie that he’d deposited in a chair earlier that night.
They were going up to the roof to talk to dead people, Rupert was drinking scotch like it was water, and they were going to solve a murder. This was way more interesting than sleep.
What did one do to get a ghost to owe him a favor?
Tarin shrugged.
”I wouldn’t want to sully your virgin ears.” Tarin said with a wink, leading the way out the door. He might have been whistling by that point too.
In all honesty, all he’d done was talk to them. Most spirits were hideously lonely in their lot, and with Lee and the baby in Canada, Tarin had taken to visiting with some of them from time to time. Part of him hoped it would help them do the whole, ‘moving on’ thing….but part of him was just as lonely as they were.
The ride up to the rooftop was uneventful, and Tarin hoped the conversation would be too. The guys they were meeting were jumpers who had been bankers in the 1920’s. Black Tuesday had been hard on them. They’d taken the easy way out and now 9 decades later, they were still paying the price.
That didn’t mean they weren’t cool guys though.
So now they were there, and there was one more important thing to ask. With a sideways glance and a sly smirk, Tarin posed the question.
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 23, 2012 13:01:56 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
His virgin ears may have gone unsullied, but that didn't stop his virgin mind from thinking it over a little too hard. What could a man do for a dead guy? Obviously the medium wasn't helping them move on to better and bright-lighter things, or they wouldn't be going up to the roof right now. So what...?
The human imagination was a hard thing to shut up. Tarin wasn't helping.
"Are you going to stand there talking dirty to me all night," Rupert said, leaning back against the door to the roof, "or can we skip the foreplay?"
