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.
Cafas heard a lot about dying, and not much of it made sense. What he knew was Calley was waving a sharp piece of metal around, and then... Laying on it? Ouch. "Natural it is. As for the rest... Well you lost me, but we both know how difficult that is." Cafas wasn't too keen on the idea of dieing just now. Nor was he keen on the idea of Calley waving a sword around or laying on it. Just cos he healed didn't mean others got such privelages. "I have never tested my ability to manipulate metal through my eyes, and do not intend to any time soon." Swords, serious bussiness.
Maybe I made a mistake with that gift.
Oh! The nerve! Questioning his smile! How dare he force stupid words out of Cafas' mouth! With his asking! The scandal. The clear love of the sword had of course just added to his involuntary facial reaction. Still, he had to answer the question, regardless of how stupid it was. He couldn't lie either, it sent his eyes a particular shade of nervous, like having a built in lie detector.
"You. Currently you are making me smile. Your outlook is really positive, and you're happy. I could count on one hand how often I've seen you like this. It's uplifting, I can't help it."
Cafas smiled at the cieling and his smile grew wider. He had almost forgotten about that particular sneaky trap. Oh he figured he'd let Calley figure it out for himself, though he purposely let out a slight chuckle, as if he was trying to contain it. Had to give the poor shifter all the hints he could.
Posted by Cheshire on Feb 26, 2012 14:25:59 GMT -6
Mutant God
3,233
18
Sept 24, 2018 19:41:05 GMT -6
Calley
"Pfft. It's in its sheath. This is the epitome of sword safety," the shifter retorted, refusing to un-flop from atop of his shiny new toy. It wasn't actually very comfortable. But since Cafas had raised the point... of course he couldn't move, now.
Pfft.
>> "You. Currently you are making me smile. Your outlook is really positive, and you're happy. I could count on one hand how often I've seen you like this. It's uplifting, I can't help it."
Not a single preemptive confession of love in that whole statement. Clearly, they were making progress in their relationship.
" 'Uplifting'? So I'm an uplifting person, huh?" Calley grinned anew, not really caring how uplifting he was or wasn't. This was just... a decent morning. It was enough to leave it at that. "Come on. Let's go get breakfast."
This was their first Christmas, right? Together. As friends. Friends who were boys.
Friends who were boys who wore matching hats to breakfast.
Cafas twitched at Calley's definition of sword safety. Something designed to put holes in skin and slice through bone separated for his stomach by a layer of leather? "Yeah, sure... Safe" Cafas shook his head and considered for a moment taking the sword and hiding it before Calley did any damage.
He has to be responsible for his own actions, I'm sure I can trust him not to just indiscriminately stab people.
>>" 'Uplifting'? So I'm an uplifting person, huh?"
"Yeah, it come from all the hot air in that head of yours." A friendly fist shoulder nudge (of perhaps slightly more affection than Cafas would have liked to convey, given the eggshells he knew he was metaphorically walking on) conveyed the manly joking nature of his words. Cafas was honestly not much good at the whole remaining 'mate-y' with Calley thing.
>>"Come on. Let's go get breakfast."
Cafas had no thoughts of rejecting this suggestion, it sounded like a good plan, and perhaps it may be better to spring the trap a little later in the day, not like it was going anywhere, mistletoe wasn't prone to walking about and moving itself. Mostly it just hung out. "Great idea, breakfast it is! Lets see if I can't pick myself a nice Christmas fight with our resident ass-shifter." Clearly a joke... Yes, a joke... Even if he did need a kick to the teeth.
Breakfast: a sordid affair involving bacon, eggs, and sitting on ass shifters until they shifted their ass to another chair, and freed up an extra seat. The dinning room was packed that morning—Christmas had everyone up early, from the nocturnal students who'd never gone to bed to the late-raisers who'd rolled out early wearing fuzzy pajamas and bleary expressions of holiday cheer. His sword was much oooed over, with saucer-eyes from the younger kids towards the Suddenly Esteemed Smithy. Could they have one? No no, don't say no, it was Christmas—
The hats didn't really attract much oooing of their own. A minor snerk from everyone's favorite donkey—now sitting two seats down the line—but splintering a tiger into someone's lap had a way of fixing most attitude problems. The younger kids took it upon themselves to put a Santa hat on the tiger's head, and string tinsel down its tail. Half of Calley fought the non-too-healthy urge to eat the shiny gray stuff while the rest of him filled up on bacon. Oh bacon. What had the world been like, before pig-strips had been invented?
It was a mighty content shifter that walked under the dining room archway, back towards the entry hall and the stairs to their room. Walked under... and paused, for just an idle moment. Not that he knew there was a certain seasonal sprig hanging down above him; not that he'd care, even if there was. Even if it would be just like Cafas to try something.
When breakfast was over with (and many a sword had been commissioned, thanks a lot Calley) Cafas was feeling content, especially considering a tiger was currently residing not far from him ready to maul a certain ass if he got out of line. So after one sword made out of cutlery (not the best metal by any stretch but abundant, and it saved on cleaning) Cafas followed Calley back out of the dining room.
Why's he stopped?
Calley had paused, momentarily, in the archway. Confusion crept across Cafas' face for a moment, until, finding nothing wrong anywhere else, he looked upwards. Right above Calley, mistletoe, a mischievous sprig! Cafas glared at it a moment then, stepping calculatedly close to Calley and speaking in the soft sexy tone reserved for moments in movies designed to make girls swoon. "You know it's dangerous to stand under mistletoe. Probably full of Nargles."
Nailed it.
Cafas' grin was equal parts cheeky and pleased with himself, with a dash of suggestive. It spread across his face as he stood nearly touching Calley, their bodies inches apart at best, looking into his eyes in a way that said 'Gotcha!'
Closer. Yeah, he would. Closer. Predictable, predictable Cafas. He could actually feel the pink-haired boy's breath tickling over his skin; the smile on his face was a little out of focus in Calley's eyes—he was too close. A little almost uncomfortably close; it was sending an electric tingle up his spine. If he had a tail at the moment, it would be twitching. What, did Cafas expect him to back down? Just let him try it. Just. Let. Him. Calley would—
...Nargles? What's a nargle?
The shifter started breathing again, his own eyes narrowing to not-amused slits.
"And you call me an optimist." He bristled. "I just—thought of something to say. Which I forgot. Nice job, Cafas."
Sarcasm. Sarcasm all around, under the arbitrary holiday greenery. Not like it even meant anything.
Naaaaw kitty was upset at Cafas' more boy than 'friend' reaction. Now this Cafas was surprised by. The unamused slits that were previously eyes were almost terrifying, if it hadn't been for the fact Calley was all flustered, he would have been scared. It was kind of cute that he was disappointing. Cafas had never been one to disappoint. He chuckled slightly as he worked up the nerve he needed. "Oh cheer up sourpuss."
Now or, well, next time...
His courage was screwed, his knees felt like they were about to give out already, and if that weren't all enough, they had half the mansion staring at them. His nerves on the verge of failing, Cafas leaned forward, eyes closed, and he could have sworn he noticed a ten percent closing of distance from Calley, though with ones eyes closed depth perception is a little difficult. Spatial reasoning, however, was granted by long hours of video games. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he was not, all he knew, is he was too committed to stop.
I predict pain in your immediate future.
It was short, it was sweet, and it was nothing overly presumptuous, well, aside from a kiss on the lips for the first proper time in front of a whole room of rumour spreading gossip-mongers. Still, he made a decision, and he was now required to lie in the bed hole he had dug made for himself
Ten percent was far too generous. Negative ten percent, maybe. Positive two, at the highest: that's the most Calley would give for his own gap-closing efforts in the events that followed. The entire dining hall held its breath.
Or maybe he just wasn't hearing anything, for a little while.
...Maybe a seven percent lean-in. But definitely not ten.
Cafas used chapstick. He had to, because this was the middle of winter, and his lips were softer than Calley's. They were—
Enough enough enough!
The kiss ended not with a bang, but with a shove.
Life in the dinning hall continued. Normal conversations, normal laughter, like no one really cared what was happening off in the doorway. The ass shifter wasn't even looking their way.
"Yeah," Calley said, after he caught his breath. "Well. I remembered what I was going to say."
With a last flick of his eyes towards the crowd, he wrapped a hand in Cafas shirt, and dragged the other boy back over. The second kiss was slightly more presumptuous.
"Merry Christmas," the shifter breathed. "Shut up."