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.
Cafas had pulled a few files, looked into a few historical examples of things, as well as some descriptions, picked a design, shrunk it down. That had taken half an hour. That put him half an hour behind, plus a little bit for Isaac not having to use tongs to remove things from the forge. He'd pointed that out before it became too obvious a gap.
He may have also handicapped himself a little by choosing to make a design that required quite a lot of pattern welding. That was territory that was constantly one false move from starting over totally. Still, what good was a competition if he wasn't showing off at least a little. He was going for a Norse serpent in the sword design. It would likely take the rest of the day just to fold all the steel and draw it into something vaguely the right dimensions.
He wasted no time once he knew what he was doing. The high carbon steel was ground to remove the surface, stacked for folding, welded loosely along the edges, and to a length of pole. He had just finished folding the first piece of steel he would need when Isaac spoke up over the din of the fans.
“Is there a place around here to get some food? Preferably lots of red meat. Preferably raw."
Huh, he must have been on one of those weird all raw food diets. Cafas had tried it once. It hadn't lasted. Apparently it was meant to be better for protein levels on the meat or something. It tasted gross was as far as Cafas had gotten with it. "I think there's a butcher's one street west." Shouting over the fans and hammer blows. He would expect that if anywhere was going to have a lot of red meat, it would be a butcher.
Maybe he just cooks it himself. That would make sense.
Posted by Calcifer on Nov 20, 2015 22:21:19 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
Isaac pulled on his clothes and walked out of the workshop, casting an indifferent glance at the woman in the drafting room as he walked past. As he entered the main shop an involuntary shiver shook his body. Even under all his layers the room-temperature air was frigid compared to the warmth of the forge.
Isaac pulled his coat tighter, unbolted the front door, and walked outside. If the air in the store was frigid, the air outside was downright antarctic, warmed only by the thin rays of the afternoon sun. Isaac looked up at it. In the desert, the Sun actually meant something; here it was just a dim light that did little against the cold. Isaac couldn’t wait to leave this miserable city.
Powered his hunger, he stormed down the street. The butcher shop was found easily enough. The man behind the counter eyed Isaac’s cloaked form with suspicion as it entered.
“And just what are you looking for, huh?”
-------
Seven pounds of flank steak hit the table as Isaac entered the forge. Stripping away the clothing from his upper body, Isaac grabbed the paper-wrapped meat and walked over to his work area next to the furnace. As he passed Cafas, he noticed that the man was attempting a piece using folded metal. Crap, he thought, if he gets that to work it’ll be a lot more impressive than a plain blade. Isaac briefly contemplated trying a similar technique, but decided that it would be better not to risk fancier methods he was less familiar with. Better to just stick with a simple -but quality- design.
Moving aside rack of tongs, Isaac entered the center of a small ring of tables and tools he had positioned as he’d worked. He dropped the package of meat on a the table, tore open the now-burnt paper, and pulled out one of the steaks. Even though he wasn’t using his mutation, the raw meat sizzled at his touch and began to char as he took a bite. As he chewed, he could feel the juices boiling out of the meat as it cooked in his mouth. It was the only way he was ever able to taste the flavor of it.
Taking another bite, Isaac looked back at the pile of steaks. It was more than he needed for now, but he’d gotten extra to eat for dinner later and perhaps another snack. He was going to be here a while, and he did not intend on going back outside anytime soon.
While Isaac was gone Cafas started creating the second billet to weld. He had it in the heat by the time the man walked back in holding what appeared to be, in technical terms, a whole damn lot of meat. The metal manipulator wiped sweat from his brow, where it was threatening to run into his eyes, as he watched his competitor tear into a steak. It smelled absolutely divine. Cafas debated asking for one, but decided against it, he barely knew the guy after all.
The billet had the rough look of melted butter when he pulled it out, the flux bubbling and dancing as it was on the yellow, near white hot metal. Cafas gave it a few soft but firm taps with his hammer before moving to the power hammer to finish setting the welds and drawing out the bar. Each individual bar went three times through the process of welding, getting cut into four parts, stacked on itself, and re-welded. This would give Cafas the desired number of layers to the bars.
He was fairly confident he could get all the bars he needed (a total of three pattern welded, two mild steel and two high carbon steel) finished by the end of the night. He would maybe even be able to twist the two pattern welded bars that would flank the serpent core, to give a herringbone pattern. That was only a maybe though, it fully depended on him not messing up anything with the bars.
Posted by Calcifer on Dec 13, 2015 19:22:10 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
For the following hours, the world narrowed. The walls of the workshop closed to contain the entire Universe as Isaac steadily drew out the steel on the anvil. There was a dim awareness of the hall outside the forge whenever he stopped to get a drink, but beyond that nothing else existed. Even the other man in the room was just a shade.
It had taken Isaac a while to get used to working with gloves and waiting for the forge to heat the metal instead of doing it himself, but now he had fallen into a steady rhythm. The hammer fell, the minutes passed, and the steel reluctantly took shape.
In the peripheries of his mind, Isaac was aware of the power hammer and the fact that Cafas was using it, but he paid this no real attention. He had chosen to make a sword specifically because it would take a long time; why would he want to make that time sorter? This of course meant that Cafas had managed to draw out a blank of welded billets while Isaac was still working on drawing out his single piece. But it didn’t matter; the power hammer didn’t fit in his rhythm. The hammer fell, the hours passed, and the pile of steaks grew steadily shorter.
As Isaac lifted the final slab of meat from the blackened paper he paused. He had brought enough steak to last him through dinner, with extra to spare. How late was it? Now that he thought about it, he was actually starting to feel fatigued from all his time at the anvil. There were no windows in the forge, but it had to be dark out.
Dark and cold. Isaac shuddered at the thought of leaving the heat of the forge for the frigid night air. He motioned to get Cafas’ attention.
“Hey! Just how long is this place going to be running tonight?”
Cafas was spared the appetizing smell of the sizzling steak by the extractor fans. It was probably for the best, food would only serve to distract him from the task at hand, which he was doing without powers, and therefore required actual attention to be payed. He barely registered time or bodily needs as he worked. It was a luxury afforded by the power hammer. Had he been swinging a sledge, he'd have weakened quickly without replenishing the salts lost in sweat.
Eventually, as Cafas was looking down at a sword blank he hadn't expected to finish until the next day, he noticed Isaac motioning for attention. The metal manipulator looked up, suddenly quite tired.
“Hey! Just how long is this place going to be running tonight?”
Cafas looked around, drawn out of his little smithing world. His eyes found the clock and he did a small double take. When had it become morning? Roughly an hour ago was the readily apparent answer. "Uh, three hours ago? Oh well. I suppose it saves us some time down the line." He'd totally mean to go home at a reasonable hour. IT would appear that was not destined to happen.
"Honestly I'm surprised you can still swing that hammer. Wanna call it a night?" Cafas did, but he wasn't about to let on. The future held a lot more careful processes in which he tried not to destroy his work up to that point. That was going to be draining enough starting fresh.
Posted by Calcifer on Feb 28, 2016 13:33:21 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
>>”Wanna call it a night?”
Isaac let his arm fall to his side. In terms of taking a break, he was most definitely ready to call it a night. Not using his mutation had given him greater stores of energy than usual, but hammering at the anvil for several hours would tire anyone out. Now that he had paused for a bit, Isaac did feel tired. It was a good tired, but he would be much more fit for metal working after a good rest and another meal.
In terms of leaving the forge, however….
Isaac looked up at Cafas’ clock. It was the dead of night. He didn’t even want to think about how cold it would be outside or how long it would take him to walk home. Staying in the forge was a much more appealing thought, but at same time he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep working for too much longer.
“Yeah… Let’s go ahead and call it for now. When do you want to start up again?”
Before the question left his mouth, Isaac was already thinking about the walk home and how much he was going to hate it. What he really wanted to do was sleep next to the forge, but the extractor fans were far too loud and without them the forge would be filled with carbon monoxide. Isaac had spent a few nights in one of the foundries by the docks, but the furnaces there were in a much bigger space and the fans didn’t seem as loud. Even then, his sleep had been fitful.
Still… even if sleeping next to the forge while it was burning wasn’t an option, staying in the room would be better than going outside, and it wasn’t as is his place was going to be that much more comfortable than here. Isaac shifted uneasily at the request, but eventually spoke out his hatred for the cold.
“So, um…. would it be okay if I stayed here for the night? I don’t exactly like going out in the cold.” Isaac cast a look at his pile of heavily insulated clothes by the workshop door. It was unlikely that Cafas would understand just how cold this city was to Isaac, but hopefully he would get the point.
“Yeah… Let’s go ahead and call it for now. When do you want to start up again?”
Cafas shrugged as he shut off gas valves and flipped power switches around the workshop. The fans would be last. "I'll be back tomorrow, not entirely sure when. Probably early, I'm not a big sleeper." The metal manipulator returned to his work space, picking up and packing away tools. After the rearrangement for Isaac, the process took longer than usual, while he tried to find the right racks.
“So, um…. would it be okay if I stayed here for the night? I don’t exactly like going out in the cold.”
That gave Cafas pause. The X-man turned to face Cal, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow, chewing his lip absently. It was an odd scenario to find himself in, and one he was largely unprepared for. Eventually, slowly, he spoke. "I've really only just met you, so I hope you'll understand I have some trepidation about the idea." He was trying to buy himself time to figure out if he could afford the risk. He was pretty certain he had the wealth to replace everything, with the exception of the building.
Enough liquid wealth though?
The conclusion he came to was... Inconclusive. Still, mutations seemed to make it hard for some people to deal with day to day life, sometimes lethaly so. Could he really ask a heat mutant to walk around a New York winter, with no idea if that could kill him or otherwise hurt him?
Turns out, no.
"Still, I don't see that it's a problem. If you turn the extractors off the place holds heat pretty well, but you run the risk of gassing yourself. Just something to think about." Cafas ducked into the drafting room, returning a moment later, keys in hand. He pulled one off the ring and placed it on a clear section of workbench. "That's for the back door." Another, larger, soon joined the door key. "That's for the fans."
Posted by Calcifer on Apr 16, 2016 20:16:10 GMT -6
Haven
Asset of Haven
94
94
Aug 3, 2018 21:53:17 GMT -6
Isaac nodded. He could certainly understand Cafas’ hesitation to let him stay. Personally, he wouldn’t trust anyone after spending just a day at the forge with them. Still, he appreciated that he didn’t have to go out in the cold again, at least for tonight.
It appeared that Cafas intended to leave it up to Isaac whether or not to leave the forge running for the night. Isaac decided against that; he had better plans. Finding a bucket dirtied by ash, he filled it with water and scooped the still-burning coke and coal of the forge into the steaming water. He wasn’t really concerned about getting caught in a fire, but the Cafas was right: the fumes would be a problem.
With the forge properly extinguished, Isaac cleared away his workspace while leaving the fans running to remove any remaining carbon monoxide. There were a few times he thought about using his time alone to work on his sword using his own heat, but by now the fatigue was starting to hit him hard, and he wanted to save his energy.
After several minutes, when he felt the room was clear, he picked up the large key and shut off the fans. There was the slow whining as the blades wound down, then the ringing in his ears gradually fading, and then just the quiet bussing of the lights. Isaac crossed to the door, pulled on it to make sure it was shut, and then flicked off the lights.
And then, finally, he burned. Isaac sighed: the day had gone far too long since he used his power. The heat of the forge had been nicer than the typical winter chill, but it couldn’t match his own heat. He burned for as long as his tired muscles allowed, heating the room to a blistering haze, hoping that what Cafas had said about the room holding heat had been right.
This had been a good day; he was properly tired. Finding his clothes by his own light, he bundled his shirt into a pillow, wrapped his coat around him, and fell asleep on the workshop floor.