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.
Sebastian was going to open her door for Svetlana but she beat him to it. He was going to offer his arm to lead her up to the entrance, but the whole touching thing was out. He sighed, tucked his hands in his pockets and trotted to catch up. He at least beat her to the front door and was able to open it for her.
Inside the pristine entrance, Noin Mortman sat at the usual place behind her desk. “The board room,” she informed the unicorn man.
He nodded to her, “Thank you Ms. Mortman, I know the way from here.” He led the way through the labyrinthine hallways, each just as clean and barren looking as the next. He didn't know all of them, but he could find his way to the main areas. The boardroom was one place he had visited often.
The door was ajar, so he opened it the rest of the way and ushered in the blonde Russian girl.
Slate did not like having his heart stopped. It had happened to him twice, now. As he was technically still two years old until September, he could not help thinking that this was an inauspicious age to heart failure trend.
The neural attack had indeed reached as far as the Labs. Slate was looking forward to meeting its instigator about as much as he looked forward to seeing Lori again.
When Sebastian and the woman entered, the large board room was occupied by a single young man whose brown hair was even more tousled than usual. He was dressed in a nice pair of black slacks, and a blue shirt that had looked more tidy earlier in the day. It was somewhat wrinkled now; he had clutched at it rather tightly. A strange action, really. Reflexive. Utterly useless, as it turns out.
Slate really, really did not like having his heart stopped.
“Sebastian,” he welcomed his fellow healer, rising somewhat unsteadily from his chair. “Ms. Svetlana.”
At least it had re-started on its own again, this time. He liked being dead even less than he liked its symptoms.
The place was... impressive. Less impressive than she'd expected from 'people who can help us', but still. At least 'people who can help us' had a place. And a face. Always a good start. Sveta tried for a smile at the woman who greeted them, and followed Sebastian to the board room. And stared.
'People who can help us' was a boy. Not much older than Sveta herself. And apprently in not the best shape. Made sense, since judging from the chaos in the streets close to the building, the effect of her... encounter with Garrett did reach this far. So, he'd felt it too. Uh-oh.
"I'm sorry." she ventured, still hugging herself, and glacing at Sebastian for forther explanation. His English was better than hers "I did not want to hurt people."
*italics are spoken in Russian* Thanks to Siren for the sig and avi!
Posted by Sebastian on Jun 21, 2010 19:19:44 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
Sebastian nodded his greeting to the teen that had risen shakily from his chair, “Ms. Morozova, this is Slate, the CEO of Mondragon Labs Medical. Slate, this is the girl about whom I sent you a message, Svetlana Morozova.”
He pulled out a chair, two away from Slate's, for the blonde Russian girl and indicated that she should sit in it, then he took his own seat between the psychic healer and the power booster. Then he proceeded to lay out all the facts that he knew upon the table.
“Ms. Morozova is a power booster. From what I have seen it seems that when she touches people, it forces their mutation to activate at a level much higher than normal. This evening she accidentally activated Garrett Will's powers, causing massive seizures in a large area of the city; from the clinic to here and probably just as far in every other direction as well.
“There are two points of concern here. The first is that Ms. Morozova will be in danger of those angry about tonight's incident or those who would like to use her powers for ill. The second point is that someone has already taken notice of her. It seems that shortly before she came to the clinic Lori took samples of her blood. I am curious to know what she would be planning on doing with it.”
In truth he was more than curious and more than a little concerned. Nevertheless, he kept his tone and his words calm and professional. Even his tail was mostly still, with only the occasional twitch of the tip. When he finished speaking he crossed his hands and leaned back in his chair slightly to hear what Slate had to say.
As hand shakes were not currently advisable, Slate refrained from offering one. He gratefully settled back down in his chair, and proceeded to reply to Sebastian’s words. Only Sebastian’s words. The tousle-haired young man found his mentor to be an entirely safer person to converse with. Ms. Morozova had already attempted his murder once today. He did not want her apology: he wanted to feel safe in his own boardroom again. As Sebastian had brought her here for her own protection, that seemed unlikely to happen. The unicorn would be most displeased if he killed her now.
Hmm. Perhaps he could simply arrange for her to disappear?
“I think the risk of targeted retaliation is low, so long as Ms. Morozova refrains from advertising her role in it. Any mob retaliation should focus on visible mutants and known safe houses, I should think. The blood sample... that adds a new angle to the situation.”
Would Lori be interested in the girl? Perhaps a clue as to her location, leaked through Lenna. Perhaps an accidental death along the way. The Kabal would have to come to the rescue in time to recover the body, of course: it would be best to cremate that.
“I am told that the Order has kidnapped other mutants, as well, also for blood samples. All seem to have been released unharmed, and their ability range seems to be... diverse. It is worrisome. I do not think they are planning to revive the Haywire experiments, however: I have checked, and the original Haywire is still safe at the main Xavier’s school. She does not seem to have been bothered by the Order since the X-Men took custody of her.”
He was running out of things to say to Sebastian. This left an uncomfortable silence, in which his blue eyes found themselves resting on the Russian woman.
Then his mouth started speaking. He did not like it when it did that without consent, but he admitted that he agreed with its words.
“Your apologies change nothing, Ms. Morozova. The most we can hope for is damage control, from this point on, and keeping you swaddled enough that you don’t cause another such incident. I would prefer to avoid another Mutant Registration Act.” The facial hair was not worth it.
“Furthermore, I strongly advise you to stay away from Mister Garrett Wills, aka Seizure. He is mentally unstable. The last I spoke with him, half of him embraced and welcomed the malignant potential of his powers: the rest of him seemed content to place any responsibility for such actions on his inner ‘demon.’ If he knew of your power, than I have a hard time believing this was a pure accident.”
Though the man would be thoroughly grieved over it, not doubt.
It was not the way he glared at her, or the fact that he decided to talk to Sebastian over her head as if she wasn't even there; it wasn't the fact that he was supposed to be the 'people' who can 'help' them, and he didn't look helpful at all.
It was the fact that she didn't understand one-third of what he was saying. Who on earth uses words like that?!
One thing she could fish out: the other mutant Garrett had told her about, the one that caused the same mess before, she was alive. In the Mansion?! Good thing I didn't shake hands with her...
>>“Your apologies change nothing, Ms. Morozova. The most we can hope for is damage control, from this point on, and keeping you swaddled enough that you don’t cause another such incident. I would prefer to avoid another Mutant Registration Act.”
Again, with the strange words. Sveta's lips arraged themselves into a little pout; she had a stronge urge to answer him in Russian. See how he deals with that. Annoying brat.
One thing was clear: he was not being helpful, and he didn't like her either. Most men treated her like a princess ever since she took the piercings out; now here she was, being treated like a criminal. It started to dawn on her: 'damage control' meant they would lock her up somewhere and not let anyone touch her. Or worse.
>>“Furthermore, I strongly advise you to stay away from Mister Garrett Wills, aka Seizure. He is mentally unstable. The last I spoke with him, half of him embraced and welcomed the malignant potential of his powers: the rest of him seemed content to place any responsibility for such actions on his inner ‘demon.’ If he knew of your power, than I have a hard time believing this was a pure accident.”
Okay, so she didn't need to understand it to know Slate was dissing Garrett now. Great. She was in no position to complain, or even to prove the opposite - Garrett had touched her on purpose before, but neither of them knew skin to skin would wipe out half of the city. He definitely didn't do that on purpose.
There were too options now: Effie or Sveta. Effie would have curled up and wibbled till somebody took pity on her and set everything right. Sveta did not.
"Mr. Slate, you are afraid of me" she said, folding her arms. It was meant to be the question, with some grammar mistakes, and she was barely aware that it came out more as a statement "They tell me you can help. If you can not, I can go to other places. But if I go, I take my gift with me. And maybe you not think so, but it is useful."
Glancing at Sebastian, she paused. Oh well. If they were going to lock her away anyway, she was entitled to speak her mind first.
"I not like you either Mr. Slate." she continued, turning back to him "And I know you not believe me but I do not want to hurt people. When I come to the USA not long ago, I did not know I was mutant. I find out by touching people. I not know what I can do yet. And yes I am too afraid of people, the ones that want to use my blood. But I am not a..." dammit English fail "... bad person, to be damage controlled."
There.
*italics are spoken in Russian* Thanks to Siren for the sig and avi!
Posted by Sebastian on Jun 24, 2010 10:40:20 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
Sebastian's already serious expression hardened as he listened to Slate's speech. Slate didn't think that Svetlana would be in danger. He didn't think that the Order was reviving their efforts to create a Haywire virus. He sounded very confident. Sebastian would have thought that by now he would have learned that improbable was not the same as impossible.
For example, it was improbable that healers would have to worry about sudden heart failure.
“As unlikely as something may seem, it is still wise to take precautions,” which reminded him, he really needed to update his will. Just in case.
The immortal sat back and listened as Slate finally addressed the Russian girl personally, and listened to her response. It was easy to see what Svetlana was feeling, her anger and frustrations were clearly written on her face and given voice in her words. Slate's emotions were not so easy to read, but they were still there. Fear? Perhaps Ms. Morozova was right.
“Yes. I am.” The question-turned-statement was direct and honest. Slate replied to it as such. “Very,” he amended, his lips tight. “I was studying peacefully. You stopped my heart from half a city away, without even knowing that I existed. That is a most unsettling experience.” He was suddenly aware of the language barrier between them: her heavy accent and limited vocabulary made it obvious. One of Dragon Speak’s gems was an equally obvious solution. Slate did not think to call for one, though: he had more important things on his mind, just now. Like wondering whether his heart beat was louder than it should be, or whether the rhythm was quite right.
“Your gift is useful. That is exactly the problem. I do not believe you want to hurt people: I simply point out that you have, and the chances of you doing so again if we do nothing are high. Not wanting to hurt people is not the same as not hurting people. It will likely be days until they finish tallying the casualties you and Mr. Wills have caused. That you did so accidentally is the only reason I do not order you killed.” Also, Sebastian, sitting next to her. That was another reason to leave her alive.
He turned to the immortal. “You are my advisor. What do you advise?” He was far more concerned with the ramifications of her walking the streets than he was with the Order imprisoning her somewhere. The latter sounded like a temporary solution more so than a problem.
Well, that she could understand, loud and clear. The corner of Sveta's lips turned up; Mr. 'Imporant Person Who Can Help' admitted that he was afraid. That also proved she was good at reading people. And playing on what she saw. Nice one, Efimia dear.
>>“Your gift is useful. That is exactly the problem... That you did so accidentally is the only reason I do not order you killed.”
Sveta didn't move; she didn't wince, didn't shudder, she didn't even blink. Her face remained calm and blank. Order you killed. Order. You. Killed. Of course. Naturally. Obviously. I came all the way from friggin' Russia, just to end up in the mafia over here. Should I laugh? I shouldn't laugh.
"Two questions for you, Mr. Slate." she concluded, not even glancing at Sebastian "One, how many mutants like me are there, you think? Two, what do think Professor Xavier would do if you have one of his student murdered?"
It was a shot in the dark; heck she didn't even know who the guy was, other than a name on the school's papers. Maybe he didn't even exist. He was probably dead. It was hard enough for her pronounce his stupid name. She didn't really have much to lose, did she.
*italics are spoken in Russian* Thanks to Siren for the sig and avi!
Posted by Sebastian on Jun 28, 2010 8:38:19 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
Sebastian was taken aback by the words that came out of his pupil's mouth. He narrowed his eyes in disapproval at the young man sitting just off center from the head of the table.
I was not aware you had made yourself executioner of mutants that intentionally use their powers to hurt people. Or was it executioner of all murderers in general?
There was no filter to stream out the sarcasm in his thoughts. His body tensed in response to his thoughts; his fingers gripped the arms of his chair and his tail was held perfectly still. His spoken words, on the other hand, remained, as ever, calm and polite.
“My advice would be to keep a guardian with her at all times. She should obviously keep her skin covered as much as possible, but having someone trustworthy with her that knows of her situation would help avert possible disasters,” including those minor ones such as an accidental touch or major ones like a kidnap attempt by a group bent on using her ability for their own ends.
I also advise you not to become a murderer of murderers. You do the world no favors by descending into that role. As soon as you start justifying killing, you become no better than those you are trying to exterminate.
The immortal unclenched his hands from his chair and crossed his arms. If Slate really planned on taking his organization down that path, he certainly wasn't going to be following, at least not as a supporter.
He left the Russian girl's first question for Slate, but answered the second one. Though his words were directed at the girl, his ice blue eyes met Slate's as he spoke. “No one is going to murder you, Svetlana.” It was a statement of fact; he wouldn't let it happen.
But she killed me, Slate replied, unaware how close the words sounded to his age. His true age. He did not argue the point further, however. The immortal’s continued counsel far outweighed the hazards of... of dying again? Did they really?
Well, he was in the habit of getting better.
In light of Sebastian’s advice, ‘Students disappear from the Mansion every day’ suddenly seemed an unwise reply.
My apologies, he chose instead. Then again, for the woman:
“Sorry,” he said, from behind his blush. “Sebastian is right. We shall do as he says.”
Slate was not sulking under his mentor’s rebuke. The Kabal’s Leader did not sulk.
Well, at least not this guy, with the baby blue eyes and the ideas of a child. A very grumpy what that was recently severly affected by a neural bomb. However strange that wibe might sound.
Sveta took a deep breath and nodded, doing the 'I am not string daggers into gentlemen when they have my life in their hands' mantra inside her head. It seemed to be working.
The Russan girl's gaze traveled from Sebastian to Slate, and back again. She was tracing invisible threads between the three of them, connections she couldn't see thanks to any ind of genetic mutation - connections she learned to recognize through painful experiences and hard work. And she managed to filter out the most important part: out of the two males in the room, one had influence over the other; and that one, for now, was on her side.
>>“Sebastian is right. We shall do as he says.”
Sveta smiled a sweet smile at Slate.
"Thank you, Mr. Slate, I appreciate your help." one of the phrases the Matchmaker found useful to teach "But you need to find a guardian to me. I not know many people."
Not many who wouldn't cause another neural bomb, or something of equal volume, that is.
*italics are spoken in Russian* Thanks to Siren for the sig and avi!
Posted by Sebastian on Jul 6, 2010 23:37:57 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
It surprised him that Slate was acting so juvenile. It also surprised him that he should be surprised. He was young in both mind and body. He bore an enormous amount of responsibility for someone his age, had suffered more than his fair share for a lifetime, had already accomplished amazing things and had plans for more. It made an old man forget that a young man hadn't completely finished growing up.
Still, not-sulking was better than planning the murder of young innocent immigrant girls. They were making some progress, at least. He nodded his acknowledgment of Slate's apology. His tail swished instead of flicked as well.
Out loud he replied to them both, “I will have to check with my wife, but I believe that I can be of service in that regard, at least a great deal of the time. If the lady doesn't mind living in the clinic's apartments, that is.” He raised his eyebrow in her direction to see if she was amenable to the suggestion.
The clinic. That was where she had just come from, was it not?
“I believe you would make a good custodian, Sebastian.” Slate stated, his brow creasing. “Though I must remind you that your business partner and fellow frequenter of that establishment should be encouraged to maintain his distance from your ward.” Firmly encouraged.
He was not consciously choosing large words. He was also not consciously shying away from the Russian’s sweet smile. These things simply happen, when one would prefer that a lady re-sheath her teeth.