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 Sept 13, 2007 17:25:40 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
((ooc: *raises hand* Second that vote. )
A series of very stupid potential actions went through Calley's head, all tangled up in one big mass of Very Bad Idea. For example: he could run. He could tell the Boss Man off. He could shift to sparrow, fly up to the ceiling, and find some really annoying high place to perch on until someone came to forcibly remove him. He could also try and kick Hunter in the groin. That could be fun. Right up until his head got ripped off. Umm... let's see... he could also agree to go along quietly for this conditioning. Now that was the worst idea of all.
...
........
Calley was still glowering. But now it wasn't for Slate; this was all for the Boss Man. None the less... he managed to force the words past his lips: "Yes, Sir." Slate might not care about pain, but Calley did. And he cared a hell of a lot about Slate, too. Pain... was also a bad idea.
Calley seemed to be against pain, largely due to the fact that pain hurt, but probably because it brought forth Slate as well. Hunter had noticed that Calley seemed less than fond of Slate, or him for helping make Slate a more permanent feature. But that was a personal problem, and not Hunter’s concern.
Hunter headed for the door, and motioned for Calley to follow. They were soon at Dr Ingram’s lab and Hunter motioned for Calley to step inside. The good doctor had already been informed. Calley was not to come out without that trigger in his head. Calley had yet to be told this, something Hunter had no intention of rectifying.
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 13, 2007 17:49:51 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Oh, good ol' Doc Jimmy. If there's one thing Calley definitely did not loathe, it was going to see Doc Jimmy. In fact, every time he found himself in that last hallway leading down to the Infirmary of Happiness, he could hardly contain himself from skipping the whole way. Tralala.
Calley considered his bad ideas all over again, but decided again and again and... yep, again, that they were very bad ideas. So he trailed after Hunter liked a puppy. A puppy who hated the world.
Calley stepped into the lab in front of Hunter, and smiled ever so cheerfully at the good doctor. "Hey, Jimmy!" He greeted the man cheerfully, "So, how long is this gonna take?"
...It was not a question with a sort of answer that he'd call 'likable'.
Dr Ingram didn’t answer. Instead he nodded to a pair of Orderlies who sized Calley under the arms and dragged him off into the lab. Hunter watched impassively as Calley was taken away. “Contact me when it’s finished,” He ordered, before turning on his heel and walking away.
James only watched Hunter for a moment before heading into his lab to start work on his latest project. He’d never actually psycho-conditioned someone with split personalities. This promised to be interesting.
(OOC: Calley, if in your post you skip to coming out the other side, as either Calley or Slate. Hunter will be waiting for you to do his own tests)
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 13, 2007 18:22:11 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
...Slate had learned an interesting fact, two days ago. He was capable of dislike. Strong dislike. This was a point on which Slate and Calley were agreed: Doctor Ingram Doc Jimmy was an unpleasant Sucky McSuckface.
This interesting fact had only remained interesting for so many hours. Slate was not capable of boredom. He was sure of that--if he had been capable, he would know by now. What he was capable of was focusing on a wall with the exclusion of everything else in his environment. Doctor Ingram hadn't liked that. Snerk. Slate had to admit: the man really was very creative. Yeah, he is. Seriously, who thinks to--?! Where had he been going with...? Slate squashed the clutter back into its corner of their mind--it was his turn now. And even though they'd united there for a few supremely glorious days of defiance, that didn't mean they liked each other. It was Slate's turn, and he was going to keep in control. Because otherwise, they'd have to go back to Doctor Ingram.
...
...
He listened for a second, but only got a slight whisper of I'll be good I'll be good I'll be good from the clutter. Satisfied, he kept walking. The door to the lab filed his focus. It was truly beautiful.
Hunter watched as the doors opened and Slate stepped out. Dr Ingram had told him that he would put the Slate personality in charge. While he trusted the good doctor, Hunter wanted to do some tests of his own. Motioning for Slate to follow he set off down the corridor back towards the training area.
Along the way he asked, “What could happen if a breakfall is done incorrectly?” If it truly was Slate he was currently speaking to, he would most likely remember that the wrist, elbow or shoulder could be broken. If it was Calley, it would probably be along the lines of “pain”.
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 13, 2007 18:34:47 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Slate was practically patience embodied. But that did not mean he liked to be patronized. If the man wanted to know which of them he was speaking to, it would have taken less breath to simply ask that. Slate fell into step alongside of Hunter--not behind, as the clutter would have preferred--and simply stared at the man. Levelly. And unblinkingly. "If a breakfall is done incorrectly," he stated dryly, "injury to the wrist, elbow, or arm is probable. To answer your real question: yes," he droned, "I am Slate."
Hunter smiled that Slate had noticed the true nature of his question. But instead of answering he stepped into the training room. Motioning for Slate to stand in from of him he said the trigger word. “Dominatus.”
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 13, 2007 18:53:47 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Slate observed where they were going with some interest. When they stepped into the training room, he could almost hope that they were going to train. But this was Hunter. And Slate had gained his fair share of cynicism in the past few days. The trigger word hardly came as a surprise. With a vexed sigh, the clutter flooded back in. It wasn't a voluntary act, on either of their parts: it was more like a rusty door hinge had been wretched open, and the people on either side of the doorway were obligated to change places. Which they did, with a lot of glaring and side-stepping. Then the door got slammed shut again. Calley hadn't actually been wanting to gain control, as a point of fact. He rather liked the idea of letting Slate deal with the Scary Boss Man. But here they were... in the training room... with Calley in control.
"Hello, Scary Boss Man," Calley greeted the man with a little too much cheerfulness. "So, that Doc Jimmy... he, ah, sure knows how to psycho-condition a guy. You really should try it, sometime." He was babbling. He knew he was babbling. But it had been a very stressful couple of days, and he really hadn't had much sleep. Or food. Doc Jimmy... yeah. He sucked.
“There is only one more test I wish to do, then you can go and eat and rest.” Hunter gave Calley a reassuring smile, before darting forward and seizing Calley’s right wrist with his right hand. Pulling the arm out so it was fully extended he slammed the heel of his free hand into the elbow, snapping the arm. The move took a fraction of a second. Time to see if Slate would come back.
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 13, 2007 19:17:09 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Calley noted, unhappily, that Hunter was doing the nice thing again. He wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve the nice treatment. His babbling hadn't been that--
...His arm was broken.
Holy crap. When had Hunter broken his arm? Calley stood there, staring at the man in shock, and thinking to himself the string of expletives that he couldn't seem to get past his lips. He was panicking. He knew he was panicking. The fact that Slate wasn't panicking didn't help his panic.
Do you believe he wishes me to come out?
Do you think he wants you to come out? Holy crap! He just--! What the hell? Who does that?
For the moment, there was no door between them--it was like they were standing side by side in a very small room.
Ask him.
What?
Ask him if he wishes me to come out.
What the--? No! I am not going to ask him! He just--! This is your fault! You ask him!
With the equivalent of a mental shrug, Slate shouldered the clutter aside.
"Did you wish to speak to me, Antonescu? Or were you merely testing the conditioning? I assure you, I have always been able to choose whether or not to gain control when we are in pain." He titled his head to the side. "Hmm. How do you wish us to react, in such situations?"
Hunter waited calmly for some sort of indication to a shift in personalities. He could see when Slate took over, as the shocked look in his eyes vanished and he visibly calmed. Slate’s comment posed an interesting question. What should they do if they were injured while at the mansion?
“I was just testing to see whether the psycho-conditioning had erased the old trigger,” Hunter explained, “When at the mansion leave Calley in command should you suffer injury. However you can use the excuse that your shifting heals you. So Calley will shift to tiger, you will heal, then Calley will shift back.”
“I want to see if that is possible without outside help so Dominatus,” he waited for Calley to come back so they could test and see if his plan would work. If it would, it would make things much easier.
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 13, 2007 19:54:26 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
"Hmm," Slate repeated. Interesting: he was not sure they could do that. Without the trigger word... it would require an inconvient amount of teamwork. Though somehow, the word 'teamwork' felt wrong for their situation. Slate let Calley take back control of their lovely broken-armed body. 'Cause he was just such a nice guy like that. Calley craddled his arm, staring at the Scary Boss Man with eyes that let the guy know exactly how crazy and mean and all-around disliked he was. Then, because he didn't think witty comments would help him at the moment, he shifted to tiger.
To hell with his clothes. He didn't care he'd just killed them--there was no way he was going to ever-so-neatly undress in front of the Scary Boss Man with a friggin' broken arm. And besides, the clothes had been Hunter's--the ones the Boss Man had lent him back at his apartment, during their first charming meeting. Ha! Take that! Shredded, punks!
...Oww. Oww, oww, oww-friggin'-oww. Something Calley was reminded of, rather violently: he actually did heal when he shifted. The problem was the moment after the shifting was done, when his body remembered that it had been injured. And re-broke itself. The large Bengal tiger in front of Hunter collapsed towards the ground, as its front leg let out a sickening crack.
...Oww. Slate...
Hmm?
...Don't be an ass.
Hmm.
...I'm not saying it.
Really?
...
Slate was really quite content with the situation. He did not mind their pain in the least. In fact, he found it rather interesting--their tiger form had never been injuried before. Quite novel. Why, he could spend all day--
I-hate-you please-heal-me.
What was that?
...Please heal me.
Slate serenely stepped forward, and neatly shut up the clutter in its little mental box. Then he healed their tiger form, quite effortlessly. After that, he stepped back. And do you know why he stepped back?
...Calley knew why he stepped back.
That's right. Because Calley knew Slate could have stayed in control, if he had wanted. And in the field, if this situation cropped up... well, they would just have to see if Slate was feeling so considerate, now wouldn't they?
...I hate you.
Calley picked his tiger form up, and gave it a little shake. His fur was bristling. Go figure. Then, he changed back. And tried to look like Hunter's little test had gone every bit as well as it would appear from the outside.
Hunter watched as Calley shifted to a whole tiger whose leg then broke. Ok, so the story would need a little editing. “Seeing as you shift, heal, break then heal you’ll just have to list your tiger form as healing, but hopefully no one will ask, or notice. Avoid healing unless you have to, and heave to means life threatening or I need you in top physical condition.”
“Now I have a parting gift before you head off to the mansion,” he pulled up a suitcase packed full of clothes, “Your new wardrobe. However unlike normal clothes these all have an inbuilt special feature.” Hunter picked up an extra shirt that had been made to demonstrate.
“Each item of clothing will have in it two small metal pads, unnoticeable unless you look for them. If you connect the pads it completes the circuit and incinerates the clothes.” Hunter folded the left arm so it was touching the inside of the back. With a slight whooshing noise the shirt rapidly burnt, leaving only a small pile of ash to show where it was.
“At the bottom of the suitcase is a set of instructions that will detail how each item of clothing is destroyed. It’s probably best if you have Slate memorise them. Feel free to get dressed then you can head off to the mansion. I have created a fake history for you and it is in this document.” He handed across as folder to Calley.
Inside it detailed how his parents had died when he was very young, he had spent most of his life at an orphanage, but run away when he had found out about his powers. His surname was changed to Yeldham, and files had been planted at the listed orphanage should the school run a background check.
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 14, 2007 7:36:49 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Calley looked at the clothes. Watched the demonstration. Accepted the clothes. Put them on. And blinked bemusedly. Doc Jimmy has way too much fun in that lab. Incinerating clothes. Lovely. He'd have rather had clothes that shifted with him, or something useful, but spontaneously losing his clothing at moment's notice could make for a good party trick at the Mansion. "What's your power?" --"I am--*poof!*--Naked Boy!" ...Or not. Seriously. He had no doubt that the clothes had been ridiculously expensive to produce, and he enjoyed having clothes again, but... seriously. Incendiary clothes. Why. "Thanks, Sir." He said. Not his most sincere words to the man. And for the record: yes, he did resent the Boss Man tellin' him to let Slate memorize the instructions. Pfft. Double pfft.
...His new and revised history, complete with odd-sounding new last name, was much more interesting. "Yeldham," he repeated to himself, reading it out of the file. "Yeldham. I sound like something you'd serve at Christmas. Yeldham." He was amused.
Hmm.
Yeah, Calley felt it too: the idea of a fake past was highly entertaining, but the idea of a fake family--Hmm. But who cared, really? It was just an act. It's not like they were having the real memories of their mother and sister surgically removed; they just couldn't really talk about them. And it's not like they did that, anyway, except for the one time with Kitra, and that was different. She was his big adopted Sis. Bright side: having a new, much deader father amused him greatly. Heh. How had the guy died? He paged through the file. Oooo, house fire. Pretty.
Realizing--belatedly--that Hunter probably hadn't intended for him to read the file right here, in front of him... he stopped grinning over his new identity and looked back up at the man. "So... that's all, right? You don't have any more stray urges to break my limbs? I can go sleep now? And eat? And sic myself on the Mansion? Sir?" To be honest: he was already edging through the door, one very small, discrete step at a time.