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.
Site adaptation by Sen, Lix, and Tempest. <3
A visit to Doc Jimmy’s Gingerbread House (planned)
Calley was, as per usual, hating Doc Jimmy with a fiery passion that would keep small furless rats warm on a subzero artic night.
As per orders, he had come to Doc Jimmy’s lab. As per orders, he’d reported to allow the man to fiddle with his explode-a-collar. That “his” back there belonging to Doc Jimmy—it certainly wasn’t Calley’s idea to put a ring of high-power explosives around his neck, so he thoroughly disclaimed ownership of the thing. Scalding warm memories of his first meeting with the good doctor broiled in his memory as he sat cross-legged on one of the chairs in the room that lead into Doc Jimmy’s li’l Workshop of Horrors.
For the first time in months, he was not wearing his collar.
...Which would have been just chipper, if he hadn’t been wearing a bracelet instead. Apparently Doc Jimmy had been trying to figure out how the bracelets at Registration worked. Whether this one was a legit bona fide straight-from-the-mutie-shackle-shop bracelet, Calley did not know. More than likely, it was a hideous parody of a bracelet that the good Doc himself had made, which was probably a far-and-above improvement of the original design. Calley did not care. He was braceleted. If he was going to have some sort of demeaning fashion accessory put upon him with threatful intent, then he... he felt dirty even thinking about it, but... he...
I would prefer the collar, myself. It is rather comfortable.
...Slate, just... don’t talk to me.[/i]
So in summary: he was sitting on a chair outside of the main laboratory, waiting as Doc Jimmy fiddled with his collar behind closed doors. In conclusion: he was in no threat of exploding.
The urge to run and see how far he could get was nearly overpowering.
The urge to not test out the new modifications he’d suggested for Doc Jimmy’s Happy Chair of Happiness was pretty strong, too.
Calley sat in his chair, and fidgeted with his shiny new temporary bracelet of power-zapping pleasantness. Nice of Hunter to trust him for five minutes without some sort of implied threat of bodily harm hanging in the air. Really, it was just... swell.
Posted by gorganite01 on Oct 27, 2007 14:00:21 GMT -6
Guest
Shogun walked up to the door of the labs. He mused that few too few of the rooms here had names which he could read, be they braille or just an inscription, so he'd had to have one of Antonescu's employees show him the way. He was wearing his armour but had only brought his knife with him. He wasn't wearing the mask, as it had been destroyed on his 'trip', which was why he was here. He opened the door, and found a small boy sitting cross legged on a chair. He dismissed him as merely a small child, but was marginally intrigued why someone of such youth would be here. The doctor that he had come to see was probably the man in a room next to them, and apparently was bent over something and working on it. He was, as he was becoming used to, a little short-sighted whilst in the labs. The shroud was everywhere, but here it was a little stronger than most places. Then doctor had it wrapped arnoud him, obscuring some of him. shogun started to work on moving it, trying to see what was inside, when he finally paid some attention to the small boy.
Whilst there was the usual excitedness of children, the boy was actually a little too old for that sort of thing. The shroud was around him too, but it hadn't been their as long, although it was also stronger than most of the people here. Apparently, this boy had spent quite a lot of time around Antonescu recently. Recently being anywhere from the last few months to the last few years. (OOC: Note: The shroud is particularly strong because of all the 'attention' that calley has received from scary boss man) Shogun focussed on pushing back the shroud, not caring whether or not the boy noticed. (OOC: Only a physchic will notice) Now that he was paying attention to the boy, he felt a lot of hatred. Quite a lot of that seemed directed at his own wrist. Wait, no, it was at something on his wrist. It was a simple bracelet, noting special about it. Some hate also seemed directed at the man next door, and a lot went somewhere else, Shogun wasn't exactly sure.
But as he pushed back more shroud, he found something even more interesting. This boy's mind didn't just contain a boy. There was something else there, but because of the wild and random shifting of the boy's mind, it was hard to pick out. He tried to push some of the 'clutter' out of the way, but it shifted and warped and moved around so randomly that it was almost impossible, especially since he was trying to hold back the shroud as well. he pushed harder, and realised that the clutter seemed to somehow react to the 'something else'. Very interesting. He hadn't experienced a split personality before, but he supposed that this must be an example of one.
Posted by Cheshire on Oct 27, 2007 20:23:46 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
The man who walked in did not look like someone Calley wanted to mess with. For one thing, he was wearing freaking armor. For another thing, he had a knife. For another ‘nother thing, Calley couldn’t use his powers at all at the moment. So fighting was out; not that he knew how to fight, to begin with. And fleeing had never been an option, ‘cause he was pretty sure neither Doc Jimmy nor Hunter wished for him to move from this room until he was re-collared, and he was very sure that one or both of them was willing to enforce that.
The guy looked like a fight ready and willing to happen. Calley shrunk a bit in his chair, happy to be ignored.
You do understand that you are overreacting, do you not?
Forgive me if I’m not the social grace you are, Slate, but I think I’ve sworn off meeting new Scary Men for awhile.
...‘Social grace’?
Sarcasm, Slate. Sarcasm.[/i]
It seemed an awful lot like the armored guy’s attention had turned to him. Calley went very still and attempted to look like someone not worth testing out shiny armor and stabby knives upon. The fact that the guy was most likely here to see Doc Jimmy of his own free will didn’t make him less intimidating of a figure. Calley twitched. Then he went still again. Twitch-still-twitch.
“Hello, Sir,” he said politely, “Doctor Ingram should be out in a few minutes, if you don’t mind waiting. He’s just, ah... he’s just helping me with something really quick. Sir.”
...This may come as a surprise, but he’d never been very good at that ‘keeping still’ thing, really.
Posted by gorganite01 on Oct 28, 2007 16:44:05 GMT -6
Guest
OOC: I will probably suck at RPing as Doc Jimmy, and you are more exprienced at it, so if you like yo can RP the man with stale cornflakes for a personality
IC: Twitch. That was new. The boy seemed scared of something, wait, scared of him? Well, he supposed that he had to seem rather imposing in his armour, even without the helmet. And he had always felt that wearing a blindfold had made it that much more effective.
Sir? Had he just called him sir? "I'm sure that Doctor Ingram shall be along any minute now." And Shogun had got his timing perfect; just as he finished the sentence, the good doctor stepped through the door. The doctor seemed to expect Shogun to be there, as he shoed absolutly no signs of surprise upon entering the room. Looking closer, Shogun realised that the man was vastly intelligent. Hopefully that would be a blessing, not a curse.
Posted by Cheshire on Oct 29, 2007 17:08:39 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
((ooc: *snerk* Doc Jimmy's personality is perishable. And it floats in water! I believe, firmly, that this is evidence of a simple fact: he's a witch! Let's burn him.))
Calley and all of the clutter turned their full glaring attention at the opening door, and at the man who came out of it. (Slate, meanwhile, began going over multiplication tables in the back of their head.) When he saw that the good Doc had left his good collar back in the tremendously great workroom, he immediately lost interest. Seriously, though, was it too much to ask for prompt service around here? He was clearly the good Doctor's first customer. So what was the pleasantly personable fellow doing with that tape measure and the armored guy's head?
...Actually, that was a pretty good question, in and of itself. Calley watched in rapt fascination as the doctor methodically and wordlessly took measurements. Then he turned on his heel, and went back into the lab. He shut the door behind him with a staccato click of a lock. ((ooc: Had noooo clue what Doc Jimmy should do, but the mental image of him measuring your head with a happy yellow tape entertained me. ))
Calley laughed. "Nice guy, isn't he? Really, everyone's just jumping over each other to be his best friend." With that lovely Jimmy-provided ice breaker, Calley was officially distracted from the fact that the man's armor was intimidating. Now, he could appreciate a humble fact: it was also shiny. He tilted his head to the side and stared at it, quite entranced. "You look kind of cool. Where'd you get the armor? And which are you: Mansion, Sanctuary, Hunter's Payroll, or Freelance?" He tilted his head the other way. "And what's with the blindfold? Is your mutation sight based? What is your mutation? Assuming you're a mutant. Are you a mutant?"
That, perhaps, is getting too familiar, Slate parted long enough from his precious multiplication tables to comment.
Calley made an effort to look less like he was about to run over and make faces at himself in the guy's armor and more like he was a dignified specimen of an American teenager. "Sorry, Sir. You don't have to answer any of those. I, ah, get carried away sometimes."
Posted by gorganite01 on Oct 30, 2007 10:03:01 GMT -6
Guest
((OOC: My head... it feels violated )
Shogun sensed the boy's immidiate hate for the doctor, and then it dissipated as the boy lost interest. The doctor measured Shogun's head, presumably for the mask, and then left without a word. Then the boy started making noises at him. "The armour was a gift from Antonescu, and I work directly under his command." There was that word again; mutant. Shogun had already worked out that he had fallen into this catergory, but the far-too-curious little boy didn't have to know that. "I wear a blindfold because I am blind, and it works to intimidate my enemies."
The boy was obviously enthralled by Shogun's armour, though he had no idea why. It was no longer intimidation. Pity. "Do you work under Antonescu?" He could see no reason for Antonescu to hire the boy, but he evidently knew a fair amount of what was going on. He could be a resourceful ally. But he could also be a very annoying one. As Shogun knew very well; people were generally less annoying once dead.
Posted by Cheshire on Oct 30, 2007 16:04:10 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Soooo... a blind guy in shiny armor who was “directly under the command” of Hunter. Yep. The guy was a mutant. What with the blindness and the blindfold and the fact that the guy seemed perfectly confident in his environment (not to mention he’d noticed that Calley was sitting there, even when Calley had been sitting very very still), Calley was willing to wager it was some kind of secondary-sight mutation. Maybe he could see in infrared? Or he could be telepathic. Naw—then he’d still be walking into walls. The lab was way too complicated for a blind guy to simply memorize.
Calley nodded quite solemnly. “That’s a good strategy, Sir,” he replied sagely, “the intimidation-via-blindfold trick, I mean. It’s very intimidating, I’m sure.” Actually, it was giving Calley the immense urge to go over and poke at it. Now that would be getting too familiar. Armor was intimidating. Blindfolds were like costume props and, therefore, entertainment embodied. “No, I don’t work for Mister Antonescu. I’m one of the people who he rescued after the Mansion got raided.” If the Boss Man hadn’t told this guy about him, then Calley didn’t see any need to fill the guy in. “I guess I will be working for him, during this resistance thing.” He hopped out of his chair, and offered out his hand. “I’m sorry; I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Calley! Tiger-shifter extraordinaire. What’s your power, Mister...?” He paused, expectantly waiting for the man to fill in his name, and infinitely curious to see if the guy would react to having a handshake offer. How blind was blind?
Posted by gorganite01 on Oct 30, 2007 16:16:47 GMT -6
Guest
He could tell that the intimidating blindfold tactic was less than effective against the boy. Ah well, he didn't specifically need the boy to feel threatened. Mansion raid? What Mansion? What raid? Something to ask Antonescu about. But the boy not working for Antonescu, that was interesting. And a lie. Shogun could tell when someone was lying, and so he also knew that Calley had been rescued from no such raid. Shogun noted the proferred hand, and acted as though he actually was blind and didn't know it was there.
"My name is Shogun. What do you mean when you claim to be a tiger-shifter?" Shogun noted the lack of activity from the other personality, maybe the current one was dominant? Perhaps he just gave over control when he wanted to, or in extreme circumstances?
Posted by Cheshire on Oct 30, 2007 17:26:34 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
‘Shogun’? Interesting. Slate commented, shifting from his multiplication tables to rifle through their seriously lacking knowledge of the Japanese culture. Everything they knew came from anime shows they’d watched as a cat, curled up in a purring ball in the middle of one of their favorite meal ticket’s slumber parties, one paw batting at the popcorn bowl as the screen flashed bright colors all over the dark room. He’d rather enjoyed staying with that girl. It was too bad about the car crash. The house just wasn’t fun after that.
“That’s a cool name,” Calley agreed with Slate. “Is it an alias, Sir? And about the tiger shifting, I mean I can turn into a tiger.” An entirely true statement, and one so well-practiced that he didn’t so much as spare a thought for the rest of his power as he said it. “Want to see?”
I am willing to bet that he does not.
That’s what I’m betting on, too. What with the zappy bracelet and all.
“What can you do?” He persisted, despite the man dodging the question twice. Definitely a mutant. “And what’s it like to work under Mister Antonescu? He seems like a cool guy.” The words came out of Calley’s mouth, and left a horrendously bitter taste on his tongue that wasn’t reflected in the least on his curious, open face.
I feel dirty I feel dirty I feel dirty—
That would be your own fault. Slate went back to his multiplication tables.
Posted by gorganite01 on Oct 31, 2007 2:45:43 GMT -6
Guest
The other personality rose up. It didn't seem to do anything though, and the same boy kept talking. "It is not my real name, I left that behind with my parents." It was close to true; he stopped using his name completely when his grandfather died, and he didn't use it alot anyway whilst he was still alive. "And no, I'm not particularly interested in watching a small boy become a dangerous creature." Considering the boy's mindset, it would probably be a bad idea to give it claws and fangs.
"I can see. I can make out everything anyone does nearby, and I can tell what goes on in some people's minds." He wanted to see what the boy's response to this would be, as he may not have wanted anyone to know about his second personality. Interestingly, after he voiced his opinion of Antonescu, the second personality retreated back to the recesses of his mind. Maybe it didn't agree, or was just bored.
Posted by Cheshire on Oct 31, 2007 10:52:27 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Calley could understand the leaving names behind with parents sentiment—he’d just as soon leave Caleb to rot back with his father. His big sister had always used the nickname Calley, so that’s who he was. His mother had used Caleb, too, but people who up and died didn’t get a vote.
Heh. The guy’s reaction to their offer to show off was great—and “dangerous creature just made them sound cool, and the “small boy” was amusing. Additionally: score! The guy told them his power. Calley really liked it when people did that. So, sort of a second sight thing—no specifics on how that worked, and sort of a mind reading—
Crap. Mind reading. Crap. Slate! Crap.
With the easy grace of a panther uncoiling, Slate padded to the forefront of their mind, as Calley and the clutter skitter-retreated behind him. They had come to a standing agreement about telepaths: Slate would deal with them. He was, after all, far less likely to allow any inconvenient stray thoughts to cross their mind. Granted that a telepath would most likely ask questions about their personality shift—really, anyone would—but it was far more advantageous to let their insanity be known than to allow Calley to spill Antonescu’s secrets simply because it was tempting to think of them. That this man was under Antonescu’s employ did not matter: they had, recently, developed something of a compulsion to let slip nothing which would inconvenience their employer. They were uncertain where this compulsion stemmed from, but Slate suspected that a certain torture session was, perhaps, a factor.
“Really,” Slate answered the man, in his habitual tone: he showed neither interest, nor disinterest. He was simply speaking. “That is a curious phrasing. What constitutes ‘some’? Are there minds you fail to read, then?”
Meanwhile, Calley and the clutter where reviewing everything they knew about comparative anatomy in the back of their mind. They were not thinking about anything to do with— Comparative anatomy! They were thinking about comparative anatomy. Just comparative anatomy. Eyeballs! Eyeballs were interesting. In birds, color vision was wide-spread, as indicated by the high number of cones; in mammals, color vision was most likely limited to the more developed apes (which was BS, since he’d never been in a color-blind form, and he’d been quite a few mammals during his time)—
While the desperate self-distraction is a good touch, would you mind keeping the volume down? I am attempting to hold an external conversation, if you had not noticed.
Posted by gorganite01 on Nov 1, 2007 8:12:26 GMT -6
Guest
As the boy considered what Shogun had said, with the usual amount of random thoughts floating around, there was a sudden panic that completely overthrew everything. It seemed to communicate with the second personality, and the first retreated into the recesses of their mind, and the second finally came to the fore. It was the exact opposite of the clutter it had just replaced, it was entirely single minded. It seemed to focus on one thing at a time, and it was a lot more serious. Shogun swiftly decided that he preferred this side of the boy's mind.
It spoke to him, asking him for more information on his power. He briefly considered how much he would reveal, and then elaborated on what he had already told them. "I can see people's intentions, so my already formidable reflexes are even greater. And as I said, I can see when you're lying. For instnace, you said that you didn't work for Antonescu. That was a lie, as you have either worked for him for a very long time, or you have been in very close contact with the man." Shogun realised that this was the first time he had referred to Antonescu as a man, but decided tha tit was probably a good idea in the context.
"...That was a lie, as you have either worked for him for a very long time, or you have been in very close contact with the man."
Calley paused a moment to laugh hysterically at that last line, and then he retreated back into a comprehensive study of the vertebrate eyeball. Slate simply inclined his head, in the slightest of acknowledging nods. “How perceptive of you,” he stated. “Indeed, we have had—”
—Very very very close contact. Ha! Eyeballs. I’m studying eyeballs. Isn’t it weird that my eyes don’t change color when I shift, Slate? I’ve always wondered about that.
...Such contact was, I may point out, entirely your own fault. Panicking about it after the fact is hardly productive.
...Eyeballs!
“—sufficiently close contact with Antonescu in recent months.” He tilted his head: again, just the slightest bit. “May I ask how you knew?” The man had used the word 'see'--it was a curious phrasing, for a telepath.
Posted by gorganite01 on Nov 2, 2007 10:30:36 GMT -6
Guest
"No, you may not." The second personality was actually more annoying than the first, because it's focus made it so much more effective than the clutter from before. He still couldn't pick up the clutter through the shroud, which annoyed him even more. All in all, he was an annoyed sword master who happened to have brought a weapon with him. Luckily for the boy, the doctor chose then to walk back in.
(OOC:leaving old cornflakes man up to you, buddy!)
Doctor Ingram was carrying with him a certain collar—currently appearing as an innocuous necklace. This was sufficient to switch Slate’s attention away from the armored man in front of them. If fact, it would have been very hard to ignore the doctor, for two reasons. The first was the indignant hissing from Calley and the clutter. The second was, no doubt, the reason for the hissing: with the usual efficiency, Doctor Ingram walked over to their body, and re-collared them. Slate made no move to protest the action.
I hate you I hate you I hate you—
Calley, what were we discussing earlier? When you let our mouth run in front of Tristan, Deja, and Katrina?
...Murr.
Slate was thoroughly pleased with Calley’s answer. The personified chaos that he shared their mind with, apparently, knew better than to speak of certain issues in the presence of a telepath. It was odd: with so many mutants in the building, they could not even risk discussing some things within the confines of their own mind. I would not let it trouble us, if I were you. Slate simply advised, for reasons that they both understood. They had gotten on the same page, after all.
“Thank you,” Slate spoke to the doctor, “for fixing the clasp.” Since they did not particularly intend to tell Shogun the true reason their collar had been brought to the Good Doctor, they did really care whether he detected that blatantly sarcastic lie or not.
In any case, the man had dismissed their presence from his mind. He’d turned to the armored man. “I need to make final adjustments on yours. Come with me” Fully expecting that the much more intimidating man would follow at his heels like an obedient dog, Doctor Ingram walked back into his labs.
Slate had full intentions to follow. The good doctor, in his infinite thoughtfulness, had failed to remove the shock bracelet from their wrist. He did not intend to let that be forgotten.