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.
Posted by Cheshire on Jun 15, 2011 19:38:12 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Calley let the arm stay where it willed. Because it wasn’t trying to grope him, or tell him it loved him. It was just being there, at a point in time when he didn’t particularly mind its weight and warmth.
It left earlier than expected, as Cafas stood. That wasn’t so bad. There was something to be said about a bro-hug that didn’t keep awkwardly going.
“Thanks.” He said simply. He doubted he’d take his roommate up on the offer, but that had a lot more to do with him than with Cafas. As it turned out, he wasn’t so great with the talking. Neither was Cafas. That was another thing he didn’t particularly mind, just now.
Calley squiggled belatedly into the offered pants, and stood to survey the dent they’d made in the room. “Hmm. Have you ever considered moving across the hall? We could just put up boards on this door, with some nice ‘CONDEMED’ signs.”
“Alternately,” he said, pointedly avoiding eye contact, “we could get ourselves cleaned up, and go get some lunch. Together, I mean. We could work on this more later tonight. You know: when everyone else is trying to sleep.” Silly mansionites. They just kept trying...
Cafas was highly amused by Calley's suggestion of moving. Very highly amused indeed. He did think it might just be easier. however he knew from experience there was another way. "I don't think we have to go that far. Just do what we did last time it was this bad, leave the door open and let the cleaners handle it, or the students, I don't know which, but whoever it was did a pretty good job." Cafas recalled not thinking so at the time. He recalled having seen dirt on every surface, however realised that was not the case over time, especially after he realised a few weeks after that the vacuum cleaner was very near to empty despite having appeared to pick up half the earth's dirt to him. Silly delusional Cafas.
Hmmm, procrastination.
The metal manipulator nodded at the suggestion of lunch, lunch sounded like food, and food was always good. "I will never turn down an offer to procrastinate when it comes to cleaning." Calley now appeared to be wearing pants. They looked a bit odd without the rest of the suit but it would do, he doubted Calley wanted to be wearing a suit several sizes too large for him anyway, it would just look comical. At least pants could be rolled up discreetly and belted at the waist. "If you need a belt I have a few in the drawer below the one the pants were in."
Speaking of clothing...
Cafas quickly pulled some stuff from the drawer as well, cleared the bed in a single jump and was in the bathroom in seconds. "Dibs first shower!" Haha! Victory! No one could argue the dibs! Cafas locked closed the door quickly behind himself and flipped the fan and light switches. Luckily the bathroom hadn't fallen victim to his experiments, although that pile of clothes near the shower was getting toward the 'need to do washing' size and the floor had a nearly complete covering of slightly damp towels that would need picking up. "Better luck next time!"
Aren't you nearly 21? Not nearly 12?
Cafas quickly disrobed and stepped under a stream of wonderful water. He used the time to inspect his new cut. He concluded it would heal itself, and did not require special attention, beyond maybe some wound closure strips to keep the edges pulled together.
When he was good and properly cleaned Cafas stepped out, found a dry towel, dried himself, put on his clothes, faded (and ripped at the left knee) jeans and a button down shirt, with a casual but matching jacket over the top. He marvelled at how good he could look in the mirror. Well, he really just marvelled at the fact that he didn't feel like a prat, trying to look good as he was of late. He took it as a sign that he was trying to go straight, so to speak, in his chosen activities, trying to be a respectable member of the community.
You still haven't stopped being a smart ass, or playing your little pranks, or purposely winding people up just to see them get mad. But I guess you have to start somewhere.
Fan shut off, light off, door opened, Cafas out and smelling all clean and stuff. He really did love the feeling of being freshly showered.
Posted by Cheshire on Jun 23, 2011 15:39:24 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
Showers were so very overrated, but a tongue bath was so very not how he wanted to remove mystery filth from his skin. Bleh. Decisions, decisions, and dibs.
“You villain!” Calley shouted at the closing door. Because that is what one does, in these situations. He grinned, and flopped back on the bed again to wait.
Flop.
Wait, wait. Wait.
Scoot scoot...
The shower was still running. Calley’s hands closed around a silver-edged frame, and brought it closer.
The girl in the picture was young. A lot younger than they were, though she and Cafas had probably been the around same age. That was the thing about dead people: they just stopped, wherever they’d been. Fifty years from now Cafas could look at this picture, and there would still be just a young girl looking back at him. She could never change. That was what being dead meant.
How long until the body was found? Would it be found? Identified? That much must be even weirder. To look at a picture, and not know if the girl inside was still out there somewhere. If she might just walk back in, someday, or pass you on the street. If it were him, Calley would have preferred not knowing. Sometimes the truth wasn’t as important as what you hoped it was.
The shower turned off.
By the time Cafas cracked open the door, Calley was flopped on the bed with a belt picked out.
“Give me five minutes and a bar of soap,” he said. “Also: I’m thinking Chinese. Or maybe Vietnamese.” Which were really just the same things, as far as he could tell. The same delicious, start-with-an-eggroll things.
The picture was back where Cafas had left it. Not that the girl inside the silver frame really cared, either way.
Cafas walked fully back into the room, walked over to the bedside table and searched for his sunglasses, which he knew were there. He didn't wear them often around the mansion, or in dark places like clubs, but it seemed they would be under public scrutiny, so he felt compelled to hide his mutation as best as possible. He found them and slid them on. "A bar of soap you may be hard pressed to find these days. Got some gel stuff though, does the job, smells alright, more hygienic; as for food, I'm pretty good with whatever, you choose." Cafas emphasised his un-fussy-ness on the cuisine style with a shrug of his shoulders. He would eat almost anything if it wasn't cereal, which up until his earlier discovery had been his breakfast and dinner for some time...
Yeah bit over cereal.
Given that Calley would be showering Cafas decided to fill the time with more sculpting. First he tried for an icosahedron, from there he melted it all back down and tried for a shuriken, repeated the melting process and tried a knife blade. Finally he settled on an X, a nice and X-manish X, which he welded onto a nail; he assumed it had formerly held a painting; on the wall above his bed. The nail had been there for quite some time, the painting, if he recalled, had been rather boring, so he had taken it and dropped it in the living room with a 'please take' post-it note.
Dreadful waste of paint, such a dull scene.
Settling down on the bed once this was done Cafas waited for the instruction to move, because frankly the bed was comfortable and he in no way felt like exerting energy, a side effect of such abundant use of his mutation.
Five minutes alone with Cafas’ shower was personal time than Calley ever wanted again. At least, not until the tundra of towels was removed, the gel stopped being... gelly, and the tub started being white again. He assumed it had been white, originally. The other Mansion tubs seemed to be. He was willing to call it ‘off-white’, to be charitable.
Charity was a little sticky under his feet.
“...Those cleaners. They better bring industrial strength stuff. And chisels.” The towel in his hair was clean. He was pretty sure. It was an eternal human capacity, this hope.
“Definitely Chinese: I know a place. Ever been to the Dragon Inn? Kind of dingy and back-alley, but awesome.” He stretched a hand down to the bed. “Com’on. I’m paying.”