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.
The limo pulled up outside the lab. Maximillian swiftly opened the door and Hunter stepped out. He wasted no time in heading straight into the entrance. Knowing Calley was following he wound his way towards Dr Ingram’s lab. Reaching it he placed his palm on a scanner, and his eye up to another. Confirming his identity Hunter stepped into the lab.
“James,” Hunter said pleasantly, “I have found a test subject for that new machine of yours. Is it ready for a test?”
Dr Ingram regarded Calley for a moment. “He’ll do I suppose,” he relented, “It’s ready, I’ve already got recording equipment in place, just strap him in and switch it on.”
With a pleasant smile to Dr Ingram, Hunter turned to Calley with the same smile and said, “Come on, this way,” and lead him off towards the back of the lab.
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 28, 2007 16:11:51 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
"Oh Hells no."
The first words out of Calley's mouth were, perhaps, not the wisest. But they were in Doc Jimmy's Li'l Labratorium of Horrors, and the words "strap him in" and "switch it on" had just gotten casually tossed out. And Hunter was doing the nice thing again. No, not just the nice thing: Hunter was smiling. A happy-looking smile. Calley took a step back, out of reflex and a last-ditch attempt to at least not go willingly into this. He knew how well an escape attempt would go; he had quite a lot of experience in that department. That's why he didn't shift: shifting would just mean a whole lot of pain prior to the upcoming pain. But there was no way he was going those last few steps willingly.
Hunter ignored Calley’s outburst as two large, well muscled men grabbed his arms, lifted him bodily off the floor and carried him along after Hunter. Reaching the back of the lab there was a small room, about five feet square. In the centre of the room was a steel chair with restraints.
The two men forced Calley into the chair and put on the restraints before leaving. Knuckling a button on the wall a device descended from the ceiling directly above Cally’s head. It looked like a wire frame designed to fit over someone’s skull with multiple wires leading from it back up into the ceiling.
Hunter calmly affixed the device to Calley’s head. With it securely in place Hunter stepped back. “Now, before we begin there are a few things you need to know,” he said in a manner similar to a school teacher explaining something to a small child, “First of all this is not because you were discovered. That was not your fault and it would be unfair to punish you for that. Not only that, but I gave Abyss my word that I would not punish you for being discovered, and I intend to keep my word.”
“This is happening because you told Abyss my abilities. Secrecy is paramount to me, and after this session I assure you that you will never want to reveal anything about me to anyone again.” Hunter paused for a moment to let it sink in. “Would you like to say something first or shall we begin?”
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 28, 2007 16:30:58 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
"Yeah," Calley said, shifting quite uncomfortably in the little wiggle room he had left to himself. The wire thing was cold. And like something out of a very bad horror movie. About a mental institution. Or a prison. But that wasn't the important thing. The important thing was that Calley had been very very wrong, a few hours ago--apparently, he could get in more trouble. So if he hadn't mentioned Hunter's abilities to Abyss, he'd have gotten off just fine, huh? Ha! That was funny. That was so funny that any remaining wisdom in Calley's body didn't have a chance. He might as well make this situation even funnier. So to answer Hunter's question, and follow up his 'Yeah', he looked into the guy's silver eyes and said quite simply: "You suck."
Hunter smiled back at Calley and flicked the switch. With a low hum the machine began to stir into life. The machine was in fact a new torture device that James had been working on. It stimulated the pain receptors in the body, but caused no physical harm.
In moments Calley would feel pain unlike anything he had felt before coursing through his body as every single pain receptor flared active and informed his brain that he was suffering incredible damage. Were there actual damage causing that level of pain Calley would have been ripped apart in an instant. But Calley was not so fortunate, and there was no damage.
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 28, 2007 21:14:39 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
((ooc: I would appreciate feedback on this one. It was a challenge to write--I'd like to hear people's opinions on how it turned out, if anyone who reads cares to PM me.))
Gray. The color of pain was gray. Gray slammed into Calley’s body, from everywhere, from everything. From every part. He couldn’t think. But he could. Odd, a part of him commented, before it was wiped out by gray. The pain came in waves—but it was an ocean.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if it had engulfed his skin, and burned its way in. Maybe he could have prepared himself if it had started as a stabbing, bleeding hole in his stomach, and ate its way outward like acid.
Gray. Gray was too much. There aren’t any nerve receptors in your brain, another part of him volunteered off-handedly, while the rest of him tried with every ounce of concentration left to it to get a shout from the bottom of his lungs to roar up past his vocal chords, and rub his throat raw on the way out. No sound came. Every muscle in his body was clenched tight, straining to rip itself into vivid red relief.
In the chair, Calley sat at rigid peace—he’d given one tense jerk as the switch was flipped, and then he’d been still. He sat now with the best posture of his life, as far towards the front of the chair as the restraints would allow him, with his neck bent the slightest bit back. His eyes were open and on Hunter. A part of him was even seeing Hunter. But more important than Hunter was the gray that dominated the back of his eyelids, the base of his optic nerve, those fatal points of his temples, the tendons in his neck, the muscles that pulled back his shoulders, the marrow in his ribcage. It had started as white. White had been so deceptively pleasant, so disjointly painful—and then the input coming in from his nerves had finally been sorted out by his brain, and everything hit him. He was covered in gasoline, and Hunter had dropped the match; his intestines were being drug from him, one coil at a time; his fingernails were all being slowly, slowly, slowly stretched back; gray. Gray. This had gone beyond mere scalding white pain. And something inside him refused to let this go to sheer black non-thought. He was trapped at gray. Hunter’s face overlaid his vision, but it didn’t make sense anymore. The mutant was an icon, not a person.
I’m not going to die, yet another part of him realized. This isn’t going to kill me.
His lips curled up in a feral grin. He wasn’t going to die. Because Hunter did not mean for this to kill him. Caleb Swartz knew why foxes chewed off their legs, when metal teeth dug in past their clever tricks. He would have given anything to be able to do that, but there was nothing to target. His whole body was in this trap, and his whole mind. He would have given anything to be able to strain forward and rip out Hunter’s throat with his teeth. His brain finally processed the command to shift—but there wasn’t enough of him left in his brain to complete it. gray, gray, gray— Too many of his thoughts were paralyzed in that stand-off of color. Parts of him broke away long enough to begin the process: his teeth sharpened towards a cat’s needle points, his pupils slitted, his nails arched out and dug themselves into the arms of the trap. Gray. The last coherency of his thoughts simply died.
The machine clearly worked. Hunter could tell that his was in a level of pain that he couldn’t even comprehend. His mind would be torn apart by that, scattering his thoughts. Which is exactly what Hunter wanted. Locking eyes with the boy he exerted his will, delving into the boy’s mind.
The pain had shattered even the basic level of mental defence that all people have. It had never been so easy to slip into someone’s thoughts. Normally he’d only done surface level things with his power. Even with Paragon hiding her memories from her had required him to delve deep into the core of who she was.
That was precisely what he was doing now. with his mental defences shattered Hunter delved deeper than he ever had before, right to the very core of who Calley was. Once there he set to work. He placed something deep in Calley’s psyche that would be so ingrained it would feel natural. Deep inside Calley’s mind he placed the need to keep Hunter, and things associated with him secret.
He didn’t know how long he had spent seep inside Calley’s mind, with pain roiling the surface of it. It was like sitting at the bottom of a pool as the surface was wracked by a storm. Completing his task Hunter withdrew, slipping out of Calley’s mind while it was still too overloaded to notice him.
With his task complete Hunter flicked off the switch.
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 29, 2007 11:42:23 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
((ooc: Again, reactions would be quite helpful. )
The teenager’s body gently slumped in the chair, his head resting peacefully against the back of the wire frame. His eyelids slid mostly closed, leaving the barest slit open.
It was... amazing. The pain had simply been switched off; every element of his being suddenly switched from perfect gray pain to perfect gray... elsewise. Slowly, he flexed his fingers. His nails retracted, and extended again—the cat movement on his human form did not feel unnatural in the least. Nothing felt unnatural. Everything just... was. There was a slew of colors coming through the thin slits of his eyelids. He slowly blinked them open more fully, and looked. His vision was a cat’s vision. This was another thing that simply was. His eyes caught the forms and colors and light and dark, and turned them into meaning. There was Hunter Antonescu, standing in front of him still. There was Doctor Ingram, recording notes. Calley lazily stirred, tilting his head slightly within its confines. Every movement he made was fluid and graceful—his muscles, burning from being held tense for so long, released themselves into a deep relaxation. Every single one of them felt like a smoldering coal in his body—alive, and ready to move. But for now... simply existing.
It was truly amazing. He had never realized how comfortable he could be in his own skin. Everything looked and felt new, unbiased, and perfectly contained in this moment. He inhaled deeply—realizing that at some point, he had stopped breathing—and tasted the air past his tongue.
There was nothing to compare this too. The pain was a memory that had turned into this—the same shade of gray, and still so intense. But intense like a sunrise, full of colors he’d never stopped long enough to see.
Even Hunter’s stupid nose looked beautiful.
He stretched contently, from the tip of his toes to the arch of his neck, and settled back in the chair with an easy smile. A few more blinks, and his eyes were able to focus on Hunter. Hunter—he must be such a high-stress man. Calley really felt sorry for him. He could just make the guy’s life easier, and keep his mouth shut about certain privileged issues. But before that, there was something else that the man should know. Quite a helpful thing. Calley opened his mouth, and felt his lungs and his vocal chords and his tongue and mouth all work in perfect order with the breath he had just drawn to form words: “Too much, Hunter. That’s... too much. ‘Cause when it ends...” He laughed, a purely joyful noise.
God, he felt wonderful. He’d never known how wonderful just living could feel. He could feel tears burning at the back of his eyes—and that felt good, too. This sudden awareness of being was nearly as painful as what had come before. But there was nothing, nothing, that could parallel this. His thoughts drifted back together slowly, rejoining themselves like old friends. Soon, this heightened awareness would fade: it was too searingly real for his mind to hold, and still retain any care for sanity. Until then, every part of him was willing to sit there, and simply be.
Hunter didn’t react to being told that the pain was too much, but Dr Ingram noted it. Instead Hunter removed the device from Calley’s head and released the restraints. “You are free to go,” he said simply.
He’d done what was needed. With that thought embedded so deep in Calley’s psyche the boy would no longer be a security risk, and even under pressure would be unlikely to reveal anything. He’s also helped refine the machine. That level of pain, while ill suited to torture, was perfect for blasting aside mental defences.
It had never been as easy as that to delve into someone’s mind, and he’d never managed to delve so far. He would try something similar with the liver levels of pain that the doctor would calibrate the machine to, but he at least knew that the maximum level allowed for much easier psychic manipulation.
Posted by Cheshire on Sept 29, 2007 16:18:15 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Calley slid from the chair in a fluid motion, with just a hint of pain to it. His muscles were beginning to stiffen, all over his body. It was a very curious feeling, and a little fun. Holy crap, he thought cheerfully, I'm going to be sore tomorrow. With a little upwards smile at Hunter, and a colleague-to-colleague nod Doc Jimmy's way, he padded out of the lab. Just outside of the door, he left his shoes and socks behind--they were stiflingly uncomfortable. Which rather made sense, since he seemed to have acquired a set of claws on his feet to match those currently on his hands. The bone structure was incomplete, caught somewhere between a cat's and a human's. It was funny to walk on. And it would probably hurt if he overdid it. Chances were good that a quick shift to cat and back would cure him of his newly acquired feline features (there was a certainty in his mind on that issue, really), but... Meh. Technically, none of the features he was showing were distinct to a house cat--they could just as easily be from a tiger. And it was about time that he stopped the silly game of 'hide his mutant identity from the Kabal members, but let anyone else in the world know'--Hunter was an odd duck when he gave orders like that. But most importantly: he was amused by his temporary feline features. And that was a good enough reason as any to keep them, for a bit. The high of emotions he'd just gone through was fading from his mind, and even from his ability to fully remember--but enough remained that he was feeling pretty damn happy with the world and with himself as he walked away from his punishment. Sure, he'd keep Hunter's secrets from now on. But just 'cause he wanted to.