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.
A boy sat in a room, drawing in a book. oblivious to his surroundings, clearly, else he would have noticed sooner. The real tip off in the end, came when the lovely natural light spilling from the window started to disappear, a shadow looming over him and his sketch book.
"Hello Persi..."
The cause of the shadow was speaking. It was strangely joyful sounding for a dark, looming shadow. The sort of voice you expect from someone who knows they've won. "Welcome to remedial Gym class."
Cafas strolled casually around in front of Persi. He smiled down on the boy. "Your attendance last semester was frankly appalling. To the principals class and everything. That was a mistake." In theory it was a mistake. In Practice it was its own brand of wisdom. Surely no-one could be worse than CS? They would see.
You're mine now.
"You have exactly 60 seconds to get your stuff packed before we find our way outside like last time."
Cafas smiled as the kid walked away, short both his punch and his note. Seems his defiance of authority stretched beyond even such temptations as skipping Sams hell class. Still, Cafas had enjoyed teaching someone, and if he was going to teach anyone, it would be the guy who had just refused to punch him, despite getting hit twice himself. That seemed like someone he could trust to use the skills wisely. Unlike him.
Well now, I suppose I can come to some arrangement with Sam.
Cafas walked back inside, overtaking the kid. The idea had put a skip in his step. Punish the insolent prick while teaching him a skill that could ultimately lead him to change his outlook on the world? Win win right? Plus it gave him something to fill spare time, since he was done with school and filming for the time being.
He was certainly improving. Then he tried speaking and broke his own concentration. "Boxing is better than what? Other martial arts? It isn't, that's why it's groundwork. I trained for kickboxing myself. Now I've just kind of adapted over time. You get in enough fights, you start figuring out what works and what doesn't, and fighting is kind of in my job description."
Cafas caught a few more punches before starting to correct Perci's form again. It was important to have good form, almost more important than strength. Almost. A few more adjustments, and a bit of work, and he was punching with enough competency to call the exercise a success. Cafas let him go a bit longer though.
Never know, might make a fighter of him yet.
He let his hands drop and stepped back. The kid had done a lot of work. He'd payed his smart ass dues for now. "Right, that should do you for now. Keep practicing though, that isn't the end of it. Well, it's the end of my teaching you, unless you want to learn more, or you mouth off to me me again."
Cafas shook out his hands, which were aching from the repeated impacts. "As I said if you want further training I can teach you. I can even teach you some armed fighting techniques. I'm certainly not master, but that's why I practice. This is just like your drawing, put enough time into it, it'll become a thing of beauty, and you'll save yourself some asskickings to boot." Plus it might teach him the importance of self respect and discipline, while simultaneously pulling his head out of his ass.
"Now, I'm a man of my word, gimme your best shot, right on the jaw, and I'll write you up a nice note to give to Sam telling him you're excused from gym on grounds of extra curricular training. If you come back I'll write one every week. A week's the best I can promise, knowing Sam like I do. That's pretty much all you'll get out of each note. Still, 7 days without going to the hell on earth he calls Gym class ain't bad for an hour's work, is it?" Cafas offered his jaw.
"Boxing because it's easy and good groundwork. If you ever feel like revisiting self defense I'll gladly show you more, but for now, this gives good exercise for the muscles, easy punches and a good understanding of how to generate power." Plus it tended to be the least lethal, because he didn't know if he could trust the kid to actually not go around beating people.
It's the, eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight...
His form was understandably off and he was lost within four run throughs. It was a lot to remember but it wasn't exactly difficult stuff. Cafas tried to correct the form, and began calling the punches in order, along with the all important duck. He pointed out necessary corrections as he saw them, and when he was happy that the form was good in the slow work, he moved on.
Rising up, to the challenge of our rivals.
"Alright, doing good, now we'll run it full speed. I'll catch em. Try to remember though, aim through the target. otherwise you wont have the power. you'll be pulling your punches." And back to calling the shots. Back to swinging for the duck. If nothing else, he was doing well at that.
Brooklyn, New York. Order territory by anyone's reckoning. Cafas was on the look out for criminal activity. The riots had kind of died out a few days before, so they were still alert for signs of trouble. With the police force spread thin and the X-men exhausted, it was the perfect time for some criminal activity. He was trying to stop that, obviously.
Ahead he spied an alley. It was the perfect spot for someone to have, say, a mugging, or the entrance to a secret hide out. Cafas turned up the alley. It didn't take long to figure out something was off. A lot of something by the smell. It smelled of death and rotting. Cafas followed it to the source. A door, sitting ajar. The type with a slide away section. It could not have looked more like a hide out if it tried. The smell did not bode well.
Oh God.
He opened the door and scene and smell that met him was beyond description. Carnage didn't do it justice. Maybe once, but not any more. Cafas ran over to a trash can in the alley and promptly deposited his lunch.
When he was done, he pulled out his phone and dialed Cold Steel.
"Hey Sam? Yeah, it's Cafas. I'm down in Brooklyn. I think you'd better get down here. Fair warning, it's pretty f***** up."
He gave the street name and went to wait for CS at the mouth of the alley. His stomach was still churning.
"It was a Star Wars quote, and frankly the fact you didn't understand it makes me a little sad." Though Star Wars might be a sin too. One could never tell with religion. Cafas kept upping the pace little by little. He'd hold the speed at the point that Perci was only just making it out of the way.
A few minutes later he stopped Perci. "Okay, doing well, you seem to have that pretty much down. Now, there are of course other types of punches. I'll show you the basic boxing ones for now. The jab and hook you know. There's a cross, which is essentially a power jab from the right hand. There's an uppercut, which I'm sure you're familiar with. Then of course you can do a hook off the left too."
So why do you think I won't bea... I could do with the getting out of my head. Lets try a song. Eye of the tiger should work.
Again, he gave a demonstration of each. "Again, slow for now, one of each. Jab, cross, uppercut left, uppercut right, hook left, hook right, duck. I'll be watching your form again, so back to imaginary targets."
Cafas stepped back to examine how the boy threw each punch.
Cafas made sure his suit was presentable, which it was. He was getting very used to wearing them. He looked over at Calley and smiled. "Yeah well you would not believe how far in advance I had to make this reservation." Cafas walked to the door and held it open. He looked his boyfriend over one more time. "They should let you in like that. C'mon we'll get a cab down. I'd hate to not be able to drink." Cafas called the cab company.
Outside.
"I suppose I should tell you where we're going." Cafas flashed a smile as the cab pulled up. "Little place called Per Se. I know you're kind of big into carbs and grease, but this place is meant to be amazing, prix-fixe menu so no difficult decisions." Third best in the world, but he didn't mention that. "Anyway, this is to celebrate the windfall that was this movie role." Cafas did so enjoy spending money well earned on a well earned treat.
In the Cab.
"Actually, I have something I want to talk with you about, speaking of this windfall. I mean, it's got the potential to change a lot in my life, and... Well, you're in my life. We can talk about it over dinner though, just didn't want to spring it on you." It was a relatively short ride, as far as cab rides through New York, to the Time Warner Center.
Per Se
A short elevator ride later they arrived. In a word, it was stunning. They were seated with only a minimal disapproving glance at Calley's jeans (and Cafas' hair). A short period of stellar service later they were ordering. "Would you like the vegetarian or non-vegetarian options tonight sirs? And can I get you any drinks?" Not even the slightest hint of a shadow of a glance at what was clearly a date, or at the fact they were mutants. It was amazing the difference it made.
"Non-vegetarian for me thank you, and a glass of wine, I'll leave the selection to your judgement." He had no idea about wine, he knew some was good and some wasn't, but he couldn't tell what would go well. The waiter clearly did though, judging by his smile and nod. "And for you sir?"
Cafas was starting to enjoy this. "Good, good, let the hate flow through you." he smiled as Persi went back to laying on the punches, throwing in the duck at the end. He learned to duck pretty quickly all things considered.
"See, now you're getting it. I mean, it's still basic stuff but you're getting it fast." There were still some small errors, but they weren't consistent, so he doubted they'd be trained in. He pointed them out as he saw them though. Never hurt to make sure.
So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? So why do you think I won't beat anyone up?
Cafas subtly increased the speed he threw his own punches, little by little pushing Persi to work faster himself. When the kid shut up for ten seconds he was down right tolerable. Cafas was half tempted to move on, but he knew that moving on too quickly could mean that they didn't drill the ducking enough, and it wouldn't pay for the kid to forget that.
Cafas watched Perci pull himself off the ground with a mix of amusement and... Well, nothing, it was all amusement. He really had been asking for that. "That was partly to teach you to focus while fighting, and partly to see if you'd be able to dodge it. Now quit whingeing about it, I didn't hit you hard." That shot, hard, would have been way more spectacular.
"Don't stand there with your arms folded, back in position. Here, I'll show you how to dodge a shot to your face. You know, aside from stepping out of range." Cafas demonstrated, ducking down, moving under the blow, and shielding his face just in case the hypothetical blow slipped through. "Now we'll work that into the combination. Same three punches, then duck. I'll actually be swinging, so you might wanna remember how that action goes."
So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? That is really getting on my nerves...
Cafas put up his hands to catch the blows. "Now, move it into full speed, and remember the technique. We can do the ducks slow if you like, to help you get it." He found he had a lot less animosity directed towards the kid now that He'd hit him in the face. Strange how therapeutic that could be.
So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? So why do you think I won't beat anyone up?
"It wasn't meant as flattery, it was meant as an honest assessment. You want compliments, put the effort in and do well. I don't give out ego trips." That being said, he did notice an almost immediate improvement. "See, now that was good. Keep doing it like that."
"And how am I supposed to dodge? That seems like a better thing to learn first."
"It isn't though. This way you learn how to take care of it before they throw a punch. Though if you want to learn how to dodge..." Cafas stepped in and began a punch. A quick jab. He fully intended to pull it too.
So why do you think I won't beat anyone up?
Then the kid moved. Ever so slightly, but it was enough. It wasn't full power, he had been aiming to stop about an inch from Persi' face. Sadly that space was now about equal distance inside of his head. His jab struck the altogether too slow to react kid right in the cheek bone. Then he was all on the ground and stuff.
Oops...
"Well you certainly need practice at dodging. My bad, I was gonna stop short and scare you. You moved when I was distracted though."
Cafas propped the last of the pots on the drying rack. He pulled the plug in the sink. Turning to Aiden he noticed the boy was looking thoroughly sad. "Anyway, new topic. Got any hobbies?" Cafas had officially run out of things to do. He moved back over to his seat and resumed his rocked back position.
Maybe I should grab something else to eat? No, that's just plain unhealthy.
He was sure he may, eventually, be able to get the kid to the point where he wasn't ashamed of himself. It was seeming increasingly like it would be a long journey though. That made sense, in a way. It was hard to just switch to a new belief system overnight. Or over dinner, as it were.
Ah well, he'll learn eventually.
Cafas considered Aiden's apparent visible mutation, though he was covering it, he assumed it was obvious enough to warrant the covering. He knew just the person to speak to about that. "You know who else you should speak to? I have a friend, Allison. Her mutation just became even more visible. She kind of can't hide though. Well, sort of, but she lives in a dangerous area the paparazzi won't even go."
"Okay Persi. That was better. Not perfect, but still better. Put a little more in and it might be called good. Focus on the next one, you're pretty close to right." It might have been a fluke. He had done it with a little less piss taking though. Cafas certainly was discovering why he was not a good candidate for a teaching role.
So why do you think I w... Maybe I can actually get him to a decent point.
"Keep glaring like that and it might just stick that way." He threw together a few combos while he watched, performing them at half speed, focusing on the fluidity of movement. He decided it might be time for more advice. "If they attack you first, don't go straight to 100% defense. Dodge, by all means, but start throwing shots. You're not gonna win if you don't, and if you don't win, you lose."
So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? So why do you think I won't beat anyone up?
Cafas couldn't figure out why that was stuck in his head. It wasn't like it was interesting or catchy.
"So you are teaching me to beat people up. And you keep saying how you know I'm a terrible person. So why do you think I won't beat anyone up?
"I'm teaching you to defend yourself, how you use it is up to you. As for why I don't think you'll beat someone up, that one's easy. I know you wont, because if I hear you have been, I'll have you kicked out." He made sure his tone and expression left no feeling that he was bluffing. He wasn't. "I know an empath too, so you won't even be able to lie your way out of it." Not that he figured Kealey would really be that keen to help him in that matter.
So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? What the hell is with that? So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? So why do you think I won't beat anyone up?
Cafas watched the movement and, with growing frustration at the question running in circles in his head compounding the frustration, snapped at the kid. "Get off your ego trip for two seconds and put some effort in! This might save you life one day! You think I can't see that you're stuffing about? I have been doing this for too many years not to recognise someone who's being a smart arse about it. Do it again, and try putting some effort in."
So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? Get... So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? Out... So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? Of my... So why do you think I won't beat anyone up? HEAD! So why do you think I won't beat anyone up?
Cafas suspected foul play. Never could tell with mutants. He took a deep breath in to calm himself. "It occurs to me that I don't know your name." Which was true. He didn't have the vaguest idea who this kid was. He'd need that information to get him out of Gym class. Cafas corrected the kid’s form while he waited for an answer. A couple of "more like this"es later he was pretty happy that he had forced him into form, though if he could hold it was another matter entirely.
"How am I supposed to balance when you're pushing me?"
"That's kind of the point of being on balance, so that pushing you doesn't lead to you flat on your a**, or stumbling about the place. On that note, bend your knees a bit more, lower your centre of gravity." Surely even this kid knew what THAT was.
There goes his runaway mouth again.
The difference between defending yourself and beating someone up is largely philosophical. Here's how I look at it. You beat someone up because you want to hurt them, you defend yourself because you don't want them to hurt you."Or others, but he didn't think this kid would understand that concept.
The punch, if you could call it that, was pretty terrible. Cafas sighed. The kid wasn't trying, which was to be expected, but he kind of figured he'd be a tiny bit less terrible. Cafas took a moment to think about everything that had been wrong with the shot. He came up with a lot.
"Okay, first, use the heel of your hand." He poked the heel of the kid's hand, so there would be no mistaking what he meant. "Secondly, don't try to build the power from your shoulder and arm alone. The power should come, largely, from your legs and core. It seems counter intuitive, I know, but I find it helps to picture the flow of energy when you're trying to learn. Here, watch me."
Cafas took a step away. Then, slowly, he showed the motion of the shots. "Drive up from the legs, through your hips and core, then your shoulder, then your arm." He did it again, a little bit more exaggerated, to make sure it was obvious what he was doing.
"Just copy what I did. Do it slowly. Punch the air. If it helps, picture someone you really want to hit."
Cafas considered the description for a moment. "Don't get cold huh? You should speak to Sam Johnson, or Cold Steel as he goes by in the X-men. He has a power related to coldness, though I'm not sure it heals him. Still, it might be a good place to start."
Scrub scrub scrub went the scourer in the pot. Soapy bubbles and near scalding water dripping from Cafas' hands. He let the conversation lull for a minute, working his way through the dishes. When he felt the silence had gone on long enough, and had found the words, he pressed on with the conversation.
"Maybe not directly, but I'm sure someone said something. Regardless, we're just normal people, you and I. Sure we have powers, but we still have emotions, we still have to sleep and eat, well, most of us. I suppose there are some that don't. We still have jobs, pay taxes, have friends, families, loved ones." He paused in his washing up for a moment. Reflected on what he'd just said. He hadn't really thought about it before himself, how petty the differences were that humans and mutants hated each other for.
"Just try to think of it like that, and don't let people tell you you are a freak, or that you should be ashamed. Those people aren't worth your time. If they can't see past your mutation to the person that you are, screw 'em; they're not the sort of people you should be looking to for anything except an example of how not to be."
