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.
>>“I just work here. I came here a lot before I retired from the force; the owner gave me a job.”
Maya looked up and gracefully caught a plate she dropped before it hit the ground. Oops.
"'Retired from the force?'" she gave Rupert a look "Riiight. No kidding." she grinned "I guess that explains that amazing first aid kit of yours."
She kept working on the dishes, one after another, and made sure she did a decent job. She didn't feel like staring over.
>>“So, where the hell is your dad?”
She wasn't even surprised by the questions anymore. She reached for the next cup and glanced at him with a mild smile.
"Didn't ya hear? He was the King of Orkney, but he rebelled against Arthur, and was put down. Looser." she nodded with a serious face, then put the cup on the dryer and moved on to wiping the counter. This was the only part of the cleaning process that felt like working in a bar.
"I don't know who it was. Mom never talked about him." she muttered.
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 27, 2009 8:48:12 GMT -6
Haven
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Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
>> "'Retired from the force?' Riiight. No kidding. I guess that explains that amazing first aid kit of yours."
Rupert narrowed his eyes at that grin of hers (his?). What was so ‘riiight’ about retiring from the force? Yeah, he was only thirty—that was obviously a little young to be retiring from anywhere. Disability wasn’t exactly the way he’d been wanting to go, either. But... damnit. ‘No kidding.’ Just what did the little punk mean by that?
>> "Didn't ya hear? He was the King of Orkney, but he rebelled against Arthur, and was put down. Looser."
“Smartass.” Rupert sipped his mug.
>> "I don't know who it was. Mom never talked about him."
“Hmph,” the ex-cop replied; a nice, neutral, noncommittal noise if ever there was one. Chalk that one up to another stellar point for Maya’s dear mother. Really, the woman just shinned. Got herself knocked up? Check. Didn’t teach her little punk son/daughter not to steal? Check. Disappeared without a trace? Check. What else would really seal that mother-of-the-year deal?
“What grade did you get up to in school, before you started playing hobo?”
She could tell Rupert didn't like her answer without looking at him. She didn't mind. She had no opinion of her father whatsoever; she used to imagine what he was like, or who he was, or what he was - but she topped doing that a long time ago. By the time she was all grown up and left alone, it didn't even occur to her to start looking for him. Searching for one parent - the one that mattered - was more than enough.
>>“What grade did you get up to in school, before you started playing hobo?”
She walked around and sat down on a stool, facing Rupert, resting one elbow on the counter.
"Dunno. Seventh, I guess. Mom was homeschooling me. Hard to explain why one of the twins skips every other day, isn't it." she smirked "I was... thirteen, when she disappeared. Didn't do much studyin' after that. Except for, y'know, real life stuff."
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 28, 2009 4:57:58 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
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Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
Homeschooling. So mommy didn’t earn a deadbeat point for that one; at least she’d tried to educate her little genetic joybundle. Seventh grade, though. That was pretty bad.
Thirteen, and alone. That was pretty damn bad, too. How the hell had she...? He...? Whatever. Three years later: the brat was sixteen now. Far be it for Rupert to give a damn about yet another little mutant sap story. The punk sitting in front of him was who she (he) was.
Rupert leaned his own elbow on the counter, holding his coffee in his other hand. “Your mom would be proud of you, you know,” he started, in that familiar deadpan. “Cleaning up your own messes.” Breaking into apartments and smashing mugs with your damn feet. “Acting all grown up.” Going to clubs and getting into underage drinking contests. “Putting thought into where you’ll live.” Being homeless instead of staying at a damn Mansion.
Rupert raised his cup, and took a sip.
“Damn proud,” he finished, keeping most of his sarcasm on the inside.
That caught Maya by surprise; for a moment she almost believed he was serious. Dammit Rupert y're not going soft on me are ya?
>>“Cleaning up your own messes... Acting all grown up... Putting thought into where you’ll live.”
Nope he's not. Thank God. Maya pulled her knees up to her chin, curling up on top of the bar stool. Talk about body language. It's just more comfortable, okay?!
"Yeah, I bet she'd be proud." she nodded in agreement "I'm surviving on my own." she kept up the confident look for a while before dropping her legs and letting out an annoyed sigh.
"Can we drop the school topic, please? I'm working' on it. It's just..." Why am I explaining myself to him again?... "... not easy. To stay in one place."
Because sooner or later all of them find out about the shifting, and there goes Maya's friendship and Gawain's reputation. Because I've been living on the streets for 3 years and I'm pretty damn stupid to go back to school. Because it feels like I'm not doing anything to find her. Because I like wandering around.
"Your turn, Rupert. How come ya know so much about us?"
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 28, 2009 5:36:36 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
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Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
The knee curling... was both ridiculously girlie, and ridiculously young. She was sixteen, right? Or had he/she been lying about that?
>> "Yeah, I bet she'd be proud."
“Uh-huh,” Rupert interjected.
>> "I'm surviving on my own."
“Uh-huh.” Once more, for good measure. Let her talk all she wanted. Those knees said it all.
>> "Can we drop the school topic, please? I'm working' on it. It's just... not easy. To stay in one place."
Rupert took another sip of coffee, and simply narrowed his eyes disapprovingly. What was the mutie, a stray dog?
“Haven’t you ever heard, kid, that if you get separated from mommy, you’re supposed to stay in one place? She’s never going to find you, otherwise.”
>> "Your turn, Rupert. How come ya know so much about us?"
His lips snarled down into a frown; he was on the last dregs of the cup, and it was damn bitter. He clicked the mug down on the counter. Insert twisted grin here.
“Well,” he answered, conversationally, “we could start with—” with his research for hunting these damn things down, and the body count he’d been building up. “—with my job a few winters back: supervisor at the New York concentration camp for mutants.”
He grinned. “Good job. Easy hours. Got to meet a lot of charming little freaks like you, and learn all about their powers. All I really had to do was sign the death certificates when the guards were done with them.” He could only remember about half of the names, now. That bothered him.
“Or hey—we can talk about my career with the NYPD: beat officer, then detective. Certainly ran into your kind a lot, out on the streets. Silly us: we’d had this notion in our heads that the law applied to your kind. When you went around robbing stores, destroying public property, and lighting people on fire, we actually tried to arrest you. Can you believe that?” He laughed. A nice, hearty, too-short laugh. That bitter taste was still in his mouth. “Good thing you folks know your theories of evolution: kill all the cops who try reading you your ‘rights’, and only the ones who look the other way will remain.”
His finger played with the mug’s handle; a little flick, and it gave a clattering half-turn on the counter. “Or I guess we could talk about ancient history: the day a little girl in a dress stabbed me in the chest. From behind. After instigating a large-scale riot on the streets.” He made a point of looking Maya up and down, with a friendly smile. “She was about your age; maybe less. Not that I knew that until later; it’s a little hard to focus on details like that, when you’re drowning in your own blood.”
He picked up the mug, and downed the last bit. Damn, that tasted bad.
>>“Haven’t you ever heard, kid, that if you get separated from mommy, you’re supposed to stay in one place? She’s never going to find you, otherwise.”
She rolled her eyes, in a gimme a friggin break kinda way.
"Y'know that only applies to kids with a normal life. With folks like us... I was taught to get out of the place before someone comes back t' take me too."
And that was that. Maya pulled up her knees again, rocking back and forth in a way that was meant to show boredom. Or annoyance. But it didn't quite succeed. And it stopped when Rupert started to talk.
Maya was stunned, and thoroughly confused. She was lucky enough to avoid the camps. She spent weeks in a row hiding in mirrors, only coming out when she needed food; she stayed well out of harm's way, so all she knew about the whole thing was from secondary sources. She never met a mutant who had been, let alone people who... worked in a camp. For a while she thought Mom might be there somewhere... but deep down she knew She was much better at hiding. Hunters rarely caught shapeshifters. She didn't know what to do with the way Rupert talked about his... previous experiences. He was not one for drama, that's for sure. Again. What the hell was he doing, making friends instead of putting a bullet into my head? Not that I mind, but still...
"Whoa. And y're callin' me a freak." she muttered, looking away. Running a hand through her hair, it took her some time before she turned back to him "So, what's the deal? Huh? Ya don't hunt mutants anymore but ya enjoy messing around with me, or what? Miss a family much?"
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 28, 2009 6:23:42 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
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Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
>> "Whoa. And y're callin' me a freak."
Same word, different definition. To each their own. He picked up his mug without comment, and moved back behind the counter to wash it out.
>> "So, what's the deal? Huh? Ya don't hunt mutants anymore but ya enjoy messing around with me, or what? Miss a family much?"
Miss a family? What family? His parents were in Florida—it had been years since he’d moved out of their house, even before they switched states. And the only kids he ever had... One had died in the Camps; a miscarriage. The other hadn’t been anything but a damn dream to begin with. Just like his life with Raina: just a damn dream. He wasn’t cut out for families, and he definitely wasn’t cut out for kids.
“Let’s put it this way, Maya:” Rupert replied, sponge in one hand, mug in another, and a truly winning smile on his lips. “You’re just that damn pathetic. And that,” he flashed his teeth, “is coming from me.”
Maya let go of her knees once again, folded her arms on top of the counter and rested her chin on her elbow.
"Well, at least I don't agree with you." she pointed out; alcohol, food, hot chocolate and sleepiness was getting to her, making her too drowsy to continue arguing. She could see Rupert didn't exactly have a high opinion about himself; at least it really meant something that he was even acknowledging Mirror's existence. "And I am going somewhere. Just gotta figure out where. But you..." she looked up at him with an innocent, girly smile "... ya really need a girlfriend, ya know. Next time I'm Gawain, we could go clubbing and I could teach ya a thing or two."
Like hell he was serious. But it was still better than moping around any further.
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 28, 2009 7:04:17 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
>> "Well, at least I don't agree with you. And I am going somewhere. Just gotta figure out where. But you..."
Rupert hmphed, and ran the mug under water before adding it to the stack of other drying cups. Sure, kid. He believed you.
>> "... ya really need a girlfriend, ya know. Next time I'm Gawain, we could go clubbing and I could teach ya a thing or two."
...
.....
.......
“How many shots did you have, kid?” He asked, staring down at her. His eyes narrowed. She was getting... mighty comfortable, there, with her arms crossed and her head cutely propped. Which brought back an old question. “Where are you sleeping tonight?”
Maya tilted her head the other way and wrinkled her nose. She wasn't being cheeky. She was counting. "Five... Give or take. Told ya, I'm not drunk. But I shifted while awake and I gotta tell ya that sucks."
It did. That's why she usually did the Cinderella drill and got out or late-night parties early - or arrived after the whole change went down. She hated being awake for it, not to mention she naturally got really sleepy before it started, so she could count on one hand all the occasions she willingly stayed awake all night, including the shift. Tonight was one of those. She frowned at the memory. After shapeshifting in a back alley and going back to the club pretending to be Sista Maya looking for her brother, she really did deserve the shots. Whatever Rupert was thinking.
>>“Where are you sleeping tonight?”
A yawn and a shrug. "I really dunno. Wherever the mirrors take me, I guess." she smirked, eyes half closed "I don' suppose ya have a couch for pathetic... half-lesbian... what was that again?..."
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 28, 2009 21:15:59 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
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822
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Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
>> "Five... Give or take. Told ya, I'm not drunk. But I shifted while awake and I gotta tell ya that sucks."
“Five—” His tone starting out disapproving. Then his brain caught up with the rest of that statement. Shifted while awake. She... he... what? One of his eyebrows twitched. Then—with all due sanity—he stopped trying to picture what that would be like. It didn’t help that he had his own experience with waking up as a girl, earlier in the year. Imagination fodder. He... really didn’t want it.
>> "I really dunno. Wherever the mirrors take me, I guess. I don' suppose ya have a couch for pathetic... half-lesbian... what was that again?..."
Rupert stared down at her as he toweled off his hands. “Cross-dresser,” he supplied, helpfully. Her little brown-haired head was down for the count. On his countertop. What—did that make it his problem?
Damnit.
He took the towel, and started wiping down the coffee machine and stove.
“My shift ends in fifteen minutes,” he growled, his back to the brat. It was the growl of a zealot with a couch.
Maya nodded and made herself comfortable, resting her cheek on her folded arms. Rupert was confusing and weird, but she could tell as much that 'shift ends' translated to 'couch', and she was okay with that. If he wanted to kill her... well, he'd had his opportunities already, and Maya was past caring.
"Fine by me" she murmured with a contented sigh "And told ya, I don' cross... dress. I've got clothes for the both o' me. An' at least I don' wear aprons."
Five shots wasn't really that much. Gawain had seen worse. And having shifted earlier tonight, at least she didn't have to worry about the fuss Rupert would make if the teenager who woke up on his couch was not the same that fell asleep on his counter. Not to mention if the zealot - god forbid - witnessed the whole thing. The idea of the look on Rupert's face made her smirk as she fought not to fall all the way asleep on the counter. That would just be... not... cool...