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 Calcifer on Oct 14, 2015 19:14:01 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
The boy would not stop talking.
Over the entire course of the train ride, there were only two pieces of useful information that Isaac gained:
1) The only guard presence they could be sure of was the human night shift. The robots may or may not be present, but their purpose was to deal with mutant threats, so they would likely be called in once things got moving.
2) The kid only wanted to free a select few prisoners. This was annoying. It meant that the kid would have to come along to show him which cell locks to melt.
That was it. That was all he needed to know. And still the boy would not stop talking.
Isaac slumped against the window and glared out into the night. He was ready to get things over with. And then he saw the prison.
And then he started learning.
The outer prison wall was a limestone and cinder block square, roughly a half mile on each side. Barbed wire along the top with guard tower at each corner. Flood lights illuminated the area up to 100 yards beyond the wall; Isaac guessed they could reach out to 400. Scattered buildings and roads spread between the front of the prison and the train station. The other three walls opened to fields with varying levels of scrub brush.
Easy.
The train lurched to a stop and Isaac stepped out into the empty station.
“Transfer the money; I’m in,” he said, his breath turning to steam in front of his mask. “Let’s knock over a prison.”
“Call me Calcifer,” Isaac said. There was no reason to pretend it was his real name. Any mercenary who gave that away on the first meeting wasn’t one you wanted to hire. And he couldn’t care less who 'Rhett' was as long as he got paid.
>”Your stipulation sounds fair. Let’s go see it.”
Good. Things were working out. Honestly, as long as this prison wasn’t on an island or had an energy shield or some other crazy thing Isaac was going to take the job. Getting through locked doors was kind of his specialty.
Leaving the warmth of the foundry, Isaac winced against the night air as he followed his prospective employer outside. Several thoughts came to his mind regarding the cold, and all of them involved colorful language. At least he’d be able to leave soon.
The file with all of the kid’s plans was still in his hands. He separated out the sheet with the so-called METAbots and handed the rest back. He’d never really had a mind for schematics and blueprints, but material compositions-
Wait, did the kid just ask if he had a rail pass? He was ready to offer ransom-level money for a quick job but he was concerned about train fare?
“Take it out of my payment,” Isaac said and looked back at the drawings of the robots. Material compositions told him melting points, and that was information he could use. The boy was right- someone had put a lot of money and effort into these things.
But everything can be melted to slag.
As his eyes scanned the page, Isaac noticed that only the biggest one, labelled “For emergencies only,” had lethal capabilities. All the rest were built toward “Non-lethal takedowns.”
Isaac smiled. Poor things. If this was all he’d have to deal with, he might enjoy this little prison break.
Isaac took the file in his gloved hands and leafed through the papers with disinterest.
“Listen, kid. It looks like you’ve gone to a lot of work to set this all up, and I’m sure that in your head you have everything planned just right.
But I don’t know you.” Isaac leveled his eyes at the teen. “I don’t even know of you. And it’s pretty obvious that this is your first time doing something like this.” It was also obvious that the kid was very excited about having Isaac for this job, so he could probably get away with sounding a little harsh.
But not too harsh. He’d have to put a bit of a positive spin on this; he did still want the money.
“I always finish the jobs I take-“ Loyalty was good. People liked a loyal mercenary. “So before I agree to this I need to be able to square it with myself that I can take care of things if the situation doesn’t go according to the neat little plan. And that means seeing the place for myself.
Now I can take your money, and I’ll tell you now that I can get you in, but I’m not going to promise I can get you and your friends out until I’m sure that your fancy diagrams match the address.” Isaac tried not to sound like he had no idea what the area was like, which was really the only reason he hadn’t accepted the money immediately.
“Now let’s catch a train.” Isaac shuffled through the last few pages, pausing on a diagram of the robots he had seen patrolling the Reserve. “And on the way, you’re going to tell me about these.”
Isaac cast a disdainful gaze down at the boy stammering in front of him. Not thirty seconds after wondering if he should find a new job one had come looking for him. Were the people in this city really that desperate?
Isaac looked back at the impressive sum listed on the kid’s phone.
Am I that desperate?
Isaac pulled his hand from the furnace and straightened. The kid was green, that much was blatantly obvious. Inexperience radiated off him like stench. And if he was sweating this bad just trying to recruit, he be miserable in the field. And of course he wanted to come along.
Yet, green as he was, this kid had still managed to track him down. If it was that easy, Isaac considered, then the Reserve job was definitely out. Sneaking a bag full of gold out of the city after a high-profile heist was hard enough if you couldn’t be traced by a twerp with an iPad. And now said twerp was offering him a much more conveniently transferred sum.
It was a lot, especially for a simple jailbreak. Even the half in advance would be enough to get through the next few months if he stretched it. And if the kid managed to survive and Isaac got the other half… well, that would just be icing.
Fine. The kid’s plan was probably worthless, but minimum-security prisons didn’t really need a plan.
Isaac stooped to gather up his clothes. "Let’s go."
A caution flag sprung up in Isaac's mind: Never take a job blind.
"I want to see the place," Isaac said, pulling on his overcoat as his glow faded. "Then I’ll take the job."
He was beginning to wonder if coming to New York had been a mistake. Yes, winter was approaching. Yes, he needed money for new heat lamps and insulation. Yes, the casinos were starting to get wise to his usual schemes. And yes, there was a building just across the East River that had several thousand tons of gold in its basement. But it was looking like things weren’t going to be that easy.
Hugging the shadows in the twilight, Isaac moved swiftly down the docks toward the billowing smoke of the foundries. Toward warmth. Coming to one of the iron works, he traced his way along the walls of the building until he found a small locked door that appeared unused. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure he was alone, Isaac removed a glove and pressed his bare hand against the latch. His skin blazed like a flare in the gloom, melting the lock away like wax. Isaac replaced his glove and slipped inside.
Finding himself at the back of the foundry floor, Isaac quickly moved to the darkness behind the primary furnace, breathing in its heat like air. After checking that he was out of sight from the workers, he tore off his wool mask and immediately began to glow a dull red, visibly relaxing as he did so. It took effort to burn, but this was the first time since he’d boarded that bus in Nevada that he hadn’t felt cold. Isaac shed his overcoat, slumped against the furnace wall, and thought about his target.
The vault of the Federal Reserve was wrapped in security; armed guards were posted at multiple checkpoints barring the way to the single narrow shaft that provided access to the airtight room encased in bedrock. Blast-proof doors, time-secured locks, laser grid and airflow detection, SWAT teams, and snipers on nearby rooftops all served to deter potential thieves, and they had all been known to Isaac when he had decided to come. It was impressive security against attacks from above, but child’s play to a mutant who could melt a tunnel through the bedrock below.
Feeling along the back of the furnace, Isaac found a rear hatch and pulled it open. Heat blazed out in a gush of super-heated air and harsh red light. Isaac smiled. Pulling off his gloves and hoodie, he basked in the warmth.
The plan had been straightforward: find a nearby building with an unattended basement, melt a tunnel into the vault, fill a duffel bag with gold bars, and disappear into the streets. By the time the guards found out how he’d gotten in, he’d be long gone. But when Isaac arrived at the neighborhood to scope the building, he found the streets swarming with some kind of robotic security drones. He’d quickly steered away, and a few conversations with the local homeless informed him that he hadn’t been the first mutant to think of robbing the place.
Great.
Isaac reached into the furnace, idly digging his hand into the coals, and considered his position. The new security at the Reserve presented an issue. However, it was new, and Isaac knew that there was always a brief window after implementing unfamiliar measures when the security was actually weaker than before as everyone struggled to adapt. More troubling was the fact that they’d encountered mutants before. Did that mean they had anti-mutant measures? What kind of measures? There were too many variables now; Isaac’s confidence in the plan was growing thin. But he couldn’t return empty-handed.
Perhaps he could find something else. This was New York, after all, and men with his skills are always needed.
Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Southern California
Nationality: United States
Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: German Appearance
Hair color and style: red, buzzed
Skin Tone: tan
Eye Color: reddish brown
Height: 6'
Build: lean
Visible mutation: Glows in relation to his current temperature
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: N/A
Other features: N/A
Everyday clothing style: Long-sleeved shirt made out of heat-reflective survival blankets. Special hoodie, pants, boots, and gloves with a basalt-fiber insulation layer on the outside and lined with several thermal reflective layers. Mouth-covering mask made of wool. Color scheme of black with dark red highlights. Hoodie may be removed if temperatures exceed 50 C (122 F). Extra layers may be added if temperature drops below 20 C (68 F).
Uniform: None
Sleepwear: If it is possible to find a place with an ambient temperature of at least 100 C, nothing. Otherwise, he just keeps his day clothing or bundles up with a lot of insulation.
Miscellaneous clothing: N/A Character
Personality: Cocky, pragmatic, loner. Tends to brush people off and avoid relationships. Has a relatively calm temper –just ignoring people he doesn’t care about, which is most everyone –but it can go from completely off to completely on if someone pushes him too far insulting his abilities or digging into his past. If he’s ever in one place for more than a few minutes, he tends to start arranging things to make a kind of set-aside space or “nest” for himself.
Hobbies/ Interests: Glass blowing and blacksmithing.
Job or part time job and description: Mercenary for hire. Jobs where collateral damage is of little concern. Prefers not to kill people if possible.
Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Feels cold almost constantly and is obsessed with finding ways to be comfortably warm (~1500 C). Afraid of getting close to people. Doesn’t like watching people burn.
Special talents: Perfect pitch and a rich baritone voice that he DOESN’T LET ANYONE KNOW ABOUT. Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Neutral. Doesn’t really care about other people or world events, he just wants to get a place where he doesn’t feel cold all the time. This usually means working questionable freelance jobs to get money for his specialized clothing, heat lamps, etc. Mutations
Mutation description: Can increase his body temperature at will from its coolest resting state of 75 C (167 F) to 5000 C (9032 F). This can be done at a rate of 1000 C per second and can be approximately localized to portions of his body, though not at a temperature difference of more than 500 C from core to extremity. His power is the result of his mitochondria being able to act as fission reactors, unlocking vast amounts of energy in the food he eats.
Strengths: His body can exceed the melting points of all known materials, enabling him to melt any substance on touch and even swim through solid rock. Many surrounding materials may also combust due to the radiated heat, but he cannot control this; he can only manage his own body temperature.
He does not feel cold when using his ability (as he becomes a giant heat source), and is immune to fire or any damage due to heat.
Since his body must be able to remain solid at such high temperatures, his molecules have extremely strong bonds which make his tissues very resilient when in his cooled state. Imagine a mass of densely-wrapped Kevlar fibers. Weaknesses and Limitations: Using his ability taxes his energy to varying degrees based on his temperature; from the equivalent of a light jog at 500 C to a dead sprint uphill at 5000 C. This affects how long he can stay in his heated state, from several hours to passing out after 20 seconds. The harder he pushes himself, the more exhausted he will be afterward and the longer it will take him to recover before he can use his ability again. Acting in an unusually cold environment or in the presence of something actively trying to cool him drains his energy further.
Also, his physical resiliency decreases with heat, approaching that of human tissue around 3000 C and that of jello at 5000 C.
His resting body temperature is 75 C. As a result of being at a temperature so much greater than his surroundings, he needs to eat a very high-calorie diet and seek out ways of keeping warm or he will succumb to hypothermia. Physical Abilities
General Physical Capabilities: Near-peak cardiovascular fitness and endurance (using his ability is a rare time he doesn’t feel cold, so he uses it to some extent as often as possible, effectively spending hours exercising every day). Can hold his breath for up to 4 minutes. Strength of an average athletic person. Moderate flexibility.
Fighting Style: Basic pugilism. Never really needed to learn how to fight properly; he just barrels forward and punches/melts things.
Fighting Style Pros/Cons: Very strong and aggressive attacks can easily catch opponents off guard or off balance, but someone who knows what they’re doing could counter him. He also doesn’t look twice and can easily fall into a trap. History Of Your Character
Isaac grew up in southern California as the second child of a non-mutant middle-income family. His aversion to cold saw him spend much of his time outside in the sun, and his resistance to physical harm gave him a cocky demeanor and a bad-boy reputation, starting and ending many fights. His conservative parents did not approve of his actions, and he began to resent them prying into his life. The day he turned 18 he moved into his own apartment and rarely spoke to his family after that. His powers manifested the night of his senior prom when he took his date to bed. It was only a fraction of his fully realized power, but she died horribly. The resulting guilt and ostracization drove him away from his home. As his powers developed, so did his distaste for the cold. He usually lives out of a Streamline trailer in the middle of Death Valley, taking questionable jobs (such as knocking over armored cars headed to Las Vegas) in order to pay for his specialized clothing and living expenses. He has recently traveled to New York on a lead about breaking into the Federal Reserve building. Roleplay
What’s your OOC alias?: Cal
Where did you learn about this site?: Referred by Ghost
Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: N/A
Sample RP:
*clang* *clang* *clang*
The sun beat down on the Nevada desert, turning the sands to coals and the horizon to a troubled reflection. The native fauna sheltered themselves in their burrows and any human crossing the region was either indoors or dead.
*clang* clang* *clang*
Stripped to the waist and glowing like an ember, Isaac hammered a bar of steel flat against the anvil behind his trailer. Occasionally, as the metal cooled, he would press a blazing red hand against it until started to glow again.
*clang* *clang*
*clrrrk*
The steel bent suddenly, brittle flakes flying away from the hammer strike.
Isaac cursed sharply.
Uneven heating.
This was the largest piece Isaac had attempted so far, and it was proving difficult to keep at an even temperature during the long annealing process. The result was patches of brittle, unusable metal along the length of the steel. Isaac sighed and placed the hammer back on its rack. Then, moving away from his equipment, he held the steel plank in front of him and took a deep breath. Heat exploded from his body in searing white light. He placed his hands on either end of his workpiece and pressed them together, the molten steel dripping from his fingers and pooling on the desert sand.
As the last of the metal melted from his hands, the blinding light faded to a glow, then ceased entirely. Isaac’s shoulders slumped. He was tired.
Leaving the forge, Isaac crossed to the metal frame of a pool chair at the far end of his trailer. Surrounding it were twenty large mirrors, each motorized and programmed to reflect the sun directly onto the chair in the center. Isaac spread himself on the charred metal and soaked in the focused heat.
“The world is too cold.” He muttered, and closed his eyes.