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 Cheshire on Nov 16, 2007 12:23:07 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
“Well,” Calley said, with an assertive nod, “there you go, then. Hiking and climbing are officially hobbies.” He started swinging his legs out in front of himself again. Sitting still was a challenging task that he was not up to, and it wasn’t exactly on his list of things to fix. “Personally, I like... umm...” He paused to think. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t one to point fingers about this issue. “Eating! I like eating. Ever eaten a pigeon? They’re pretty good. Like miniature dull-grey chickens.” He also liked acquiring new forms, flying, catting, and plotting. But those didn’t seem necessary to mention. “Oh! And I read some.” Like comparative anatomy texts, and algebra books. It showed very clearly on his face: he needed new hobbies. Because he was clearly a dull, dull spy boy. “So, umm, moving on...” He really wasn’t that great with this ‘holding a conversation’ thing. “Hunter’ll be holding that meeting soon. Have you met any of the other people that’ll be there?” Personally, he planned on knowing quite a few of the people who would be present. It was, after all, his job.
Reading and eating, why did they not surprise her? The fact that he choose then to move away from hobbies was a healthy one, for though the idea had been entertaining enough if the boy had seriously tried to encourage it then she would have to…demonstrate her opinion. As it was he seemed to show some control, and though it was far below what was normally assumed safe, he seemed to be surviving on it, just. Hobbies, was one of the many luxuries that were just not the likes of them, and acceptance was the easiest method to deal with this.
He seemed to be suggesting an exchange of information, which was fine by her, since her interaction with others had been extremely limited. “I meet Kaz when he recruited me” And since clearly they were acquainted she didn’t feel the need to continue. Unsure who Calley had or hadn’t met she kept her statements brief; he could always ask questions. “I’ve trained, and been on a mission with Shogun, met Gearhead, and briefly seen Kitra, Vibe, and Nicki. But what about yourself, you’ve probably met the majority of those attending haven’t you?” Being a spy she presumed he catalogued as many people as possible, filing away snippets of facts. A bank of information which could provide useful information. Testing whether or not he would reveal anything, she added another question, “There’s Hunter, Kaz, Shogun, Kitra, you and I, but who else makes up the Kabal?”
Posted by Cheshire on Nov 18, 2007 16:36:38 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Gearhead? Gearhead... That name set off bells in his head. Bells of total-lack-of-recognition. Everyone else she knew, he knew. But Gearhead...
Calley tilted his head towards the woman sitting next to him. “Gearhead? I don’t think I know him.” As for that bait for him to talk about the rest of the Kabal, and the people at the meeting in general: he wasn’t biting. He’d much rather learn something new than repeat old news.
So he didn’t know Gearhead, that was good since clearly she would be need a bargaining chip. He had ignored her question: bad move. Naturally it also meant the chance of her responding to his enquiring had become nothing more than a sliver. She had presumed he would have been easier about the whole thing, but clearly he found the need to be difficult, which in no way meant she was going to give in. In her mind it was very simple: she had asked first, so she would be answered first. “Gearheads an interesting character.” She allowed a slight pause to continue both she pushed on with her point, “So who composes the Kabal?”. She was prepared to continue on the subject of Gearhead just as soon as her question had been answered. No, she wasn’t subtle, but she wasn’t up for games, which has why this was his one and only chance to answer the question before the conversation changed. Her eyes had been pulled back to the cityscape before her, and so they stayed, skimming over the petty details that other lives were built around as she waited for his descion.
Posted by Cheshire on Nov 21, 2007 22:49:32 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Calley’s mind was on Gearhead, and on Gearhead it was going to stay, until he figured something about this “interesting” person out. He stared over at Nox. “What makes him so interesting?”
He was ready, willing, and able to spill everything he knew about every member of the Kabal he’d met. But first, his attention span needed to run its course. He wanted to know about Gearhead right now: it was as simple as that. The spillage could come immediately after she’d satisfied his curiosity, but it really really really didn’t stand a chance of coming sooner.
Nox was not in the mood. She had felt trapped by the constant human presence, the questions, the prying the bickering, she didn’t want it to follow her. She felt the warning signs of a headache as it emerged form the depths: she did not feel like playing ‘who is the stubbornness of them all?’, not now, maybe another time. Which lead her to a decision: silence, walking away, or giving him what he wanted. Silence: it would be short lived, there was no question there; the boy clearly was eager to follow this lead. Walking way: firstly, she was not allowing him to conquer the roof, it was hers and she was not surrendering it, and second she didn’t want to imagine what the stuffiness of indoors would do to her fledgling headache. Which left, giving him what he wanted. She didn’t do giving up, it wasn’t in her nature, but if a few choice snippets of information would quieten his protests, then really she was getting what she wanted. Recognising the price of keeping the headache at bay, she folded to end the foolishness. “ She is interesting for several reasons. First, she has an amazing aptitude for technology, her power must lie in that realm. Secondly, she is reckless in a bad way, she isn’t wary when she should be and it will certainly cause trouble. Yet Hunter seems to tolerate her insolence, which speaks for her talents. Lastly, she is extremely intelligent and has a grasp of knowledge over most things, though somewhat energized constantly she is not to be underestimated.” Ahhhhh blessed silence. To be honest she hoped he would interrupt and hold up his deal, and speak about the Kabal, but maybe after that, was peace too much to ask for?
Calley neatly tucked away all those priceless gems of information into the clutter. He wouldn’t forget—he never forgot this sort of thing. For example:
Calley flopped onto his back, stretched out his arms spread-eagle-style, and began to spill the goods on the rest of their little organization. “The ones I know are Zephyr, Jebediah, Ziin, Kitra, Tris, Kaz, Shogun, and your own fine self, ma’am.
“Jeb and Ziin I haven’t seen around for awhile. Zephyr’s got one of those dead-give-away names, so ‘nough said about his power, but he’s my age, and acts like he’s a cynical anti-social war veteran getting just enough pension money to live on.
“Kitra is my age, too, and really fun—her power is making her illustrations come to life. Kind of creepy.
“Tris—also my age, don’t really know her, but she gets along with Kitra really well, and her power is blowing things up. Oh! And making things move reeeeeally slowly. She definitely put the Scary Boss Man into slow-mo.” He grinned in quiet recollection of that supremely happy moment in time.
“Kaz is a jerk. And a show-off. And an egomaniac. And he talks a lot, about things that he thinks are lofty and make sense, but they really aren’t, and they don’t, half of the time. His power is to be really fast and to grow out long silky hair and elf ears.
“Shogun wears really cool armor and he’s blind and he does something with telepathy and he didn’t hurt me at all so he’s probably got a lot of patience and self-control.
“And you’re... umm, you know you.” Calley nodded, and stared at the sun. Then closed his eyes, and watched the pretty after-image.
Information, and though not in much detail, it was start. So that made 10 members, if you included Gearhead and Calley, quite a group. She had listened carefully, tearing away the information from his somewhat opinionated descriptions. The first two names, where just that, names, only husks of identities, and nothing else she dismissed them, especially since apparently they weren’t around. Zephyr: the name was the give away, hey? Shifting through the many cabinets of logged facts in her mind, she came across something from her time in Warsaw, a moment of curiosity after stumbling upon ruins had led to a drop of knowledge. The tower of the four winds: depicting Boreas, Notus, Eurus, and Zephyrus. Ah ha, control over the wind now that could be useful. The corner of her mouth had lifted ever so slightly at his description, as it created a somewhat amusing image.
Kitra, the girl she had glimpsed in the infirmary, real illusions, another interesting ability, and one which she made sure to remember. Tris, the next member, was another new one for Nox, though apparently she had some control over everything’s speed. She filed the information, along the question of How?, a question which one day she would follow up. After he mentioned her, the boy couldn’t help but let a grin spread over his face – happy memories of some sort apparently, but that didn’t interest Nox in the slightest. Kaz, was clearly not held in good regard of the boy’s mind, but again the boy’s personal issues were tossed away in the sorting process. Instead the process brought out points concerning Kaz’s ability: super speed, and some sort of hairy adaptation – not much fact there admittedly but it was base. Last came Shogun, and being already familiar with the warrior, she discarded his words for she had her own opinions to draw upon.
With the information either nicely ordered, or discarded, she leaned back putting her arms behind her. And as a ray of sunshine broke through the foreboding, rolling clouds, she enjoyed the warmth that crawled up her arms. That, the continuous breeze, and the new found peace, seemed to fortify her mind, maybe she would thwart this headache after all? She simply sat there, a small part of her mind mulling over the newly found information, but the majority of it was enjoying the peace, while it lasted. Due to the company, however, she doubted it would last long, but one can but hope.
Aww, cute. Miss Nox was doing the lean-back thing, just like he was. His legs twitched contentedly over the side of the building. He, likewise, enjoyed the peace and quiet of the rooftop, and the amazing fact that she hadn’t stabbed at him at all during this conversation.
This lasted for approximately a minute. Then, his stomach gave an alarmingly ferocious growl that reminded him he hadn’t eaten yet this hour. He sat up, and looked down at the unnecessarily aggressive woman next to him.
“I think I’m going to get something to eat before the meeting. Would you care to join me, or would you like to stay up here?”
He wasn’t talking - what a pleasant surprise. It meant that if she looked straight ahead, she could pretend he wasn’t here. In hindsight, she concluded that she had yet to find the solitude she had been in search for, it wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate value the information she had gained, but she had had enough. And her tolerance was not going to stretch much further. Luckily, he, or rather his stomach, solved her little dilemma. Though the thought of her prolonging their meeting by joining him at lunch was preposterous, the fact that he intended to leave was rather delightful. In response to his question she turned and arched one of her eyebrows in a ‘you-must-be-joking’ manner, and followed it up by adding “I suggest you make your exit a swift one”. Since having been given the glimpse of solitude, she didn’t think she would react well if forced to wait longer before she found. And so she turned back to the world of silhouettes that stretched out before her, and hoped he would take her advice.
That, umm... that seemed like good advice. With a quiet little, “It was interesting talking with you, ma’am,” Calley stood and hastily exited, stage left. It was times like this that he was glad he didn’t have any pride of which to speak. Pride tended to slow down retreats. Retreats were best done quickly when you’ve been pushing your luck throughout an entire conversation.
He eased the door of the roof shut behind himself, and made for the canteen. Oh, food. Food was wonderful.
He muttered something as he left - Nox ignored him. Ignored him to such an extent that her brain didn’t even process the sound into words, so the sounds were soon lost on the wind, which she was only to pleased about. As the door clattered into its rightful place, Nox let out a little sigh, alone at last. Ideas, facts, plans, snippets of conversation they all swirled around, each demanded a little attention, and each received it. And so she was able to swift through the last days: sorting out information, flinging facts, forging new links and destroying others, just sorting out her thoughts. And as she did so her eyes wandered over the scene before her as they wished, seeking nothing, simply looking. The subtle differences that occurred every second, a change in depth maybe? Or in tone? Or perhaps movement? And at each change the mimicking shadows followed, continuing their dance. And so the sky courted the earth in an eternal dance, and she was the witness a top her lofty perch.
And so the silhouette of Nox was added to the skyscape as time leisurely passed. Movement was only brought on by the necessity of attending the meeting. And at that forlorn time, she was forced to move, and so, if only a little downcast, she left with the reassuring thought that needless to say this wouldn’t be the last time she found herself up here.