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.
No was certainly the answer he was going for. He didn't know what he would have done with a yes. "So why be ashamed of yourself for your mutation? You're no more of a monster than I am from what I've seen. If anything you're probably less of one." Cafas finished off his pudding, stacking the two bowls and the cutlery. He pushed those aside.
He was feeling quite nicely full. This had two effect. First, it made him a far happier person. Second, it kind of made him sleepy. Not that the sensation was new to him. He pushed it to one side. The sleepy, not the happy.
"So what's your ability Aiden? I can manipulate the properties of metals I'm touching; melting point, boiling point, density, that sort of thing." He thought better of giving a demonstration. He'd destroyed enough cutlery in his time. Instead he grabbed the empty bowls and moved them to the sink.
Gathering the rest of the stuff they'd used to cook, Cafas began to wash it all. "Who told you mutants needed to be ashamed of themselves anyway? Clearly someone you trusted and respected." He suspected parents. It did seem to be parents an awful lot of the time.
”Ever wonder what would happen if we lived somewhere else?”
Cafas considered the question carefully as he beat a human who had broken the line in the thigh, then threw him out of the fray. "Knowing us? Same exact s*** as always, just different scenery, and less pizza." Cafas kicked out the knees of a guy who was headed right at C.S. and smacked him as he went down. A cop dragged him out too. Cafas felt something hit his back. He stumbled forward a step and turned to see... Nothing. Another shove from behind. He spun again. No culprit. He counted to three in his head, and sure as sunrise, another shove in the back. He spun again. Counted to three, and spun back, swinging.
For a second there was just air. Then his steel bar hit something. That something fizzled back to visibility, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth as he slumped down. Cafas kicked him once in the chest for good measure. Then he got sick of playing defense. He reached down to the riot utility belt they'd been given and found the pepper spray.
A group of mutants made the mistake of trying to push up while rubber bullets held the humans relatively at bay. Cafas raised the can and unleashed a torrent of mace into their eyes and mouths. He pushed a bit up and sprayed some more, forcing the mutant line back as they clutched at their eyes in pain. A few seemed immune; most didn't hold up to the metal bar he hit them with. The police pushed up a bit,giving themselves a bit more space to play with.
"Oh yeah, they don't seem to like peppers."
Something told Cafas to duck behind his shield. He listened to that something. The air was very suddenly filled with flying pieces of rock. Well now, that was interesting. High velocity gravel and larger rock chunks bounced off his shield and face guard.
“Think its time you all leave...”
Well, he was certainly bold. Then again, he had just obliterated a stone gollem. A war cry from somewhere informed the newcomer and all who shared his sentiment what they may do with it.
Cafas turned, and for his trouble, received a spiked fist to the face shield. Poor thing had been through a lot recently, that was the last straw. It broke off as a similar fist rammed into his stomach.
He rolled to the side. More like he turned crumpling from the blow into a roll to a safer distance. Though safety was relative. He was squared up against a guy with spikes adorning his body, making him look like he was entirely studded.
The guy charged him. Cafas sidestepped and rammed his steel rod into the mutant's stomach. It barely flinched. Another massive fist knocked him backwards through the police line into the police held gap. Cafas struggled to his feet. "Sam, Could use a hand!" Cafas hardened the steel rod further, upped its density, and made it nice and hot at the end, before re entering the fray, and fighting this studded pain in the...
Aiden murmured something that sounded vaguely like "It's not just that." Which was an incomplete sentence. Cafas considered pushing for more, but it didn't seem like the kid wanted to share. Fair enough too. Maybe a bit later on. For now, he had a question to answer.
"Because evolution is natural, and all we really are is the next rung on the evolutionary ladder of humanity. Born with abilities beyond what some people could dream of. Really, it's as silly as being ashamed of having black hair. That was a mutation too. We are the sum of millions of years of mutation. We've no more need to be ashamed than any other person walking down the street."
Nom nom pudding. Cafas leaned back on his chair, tilting it onto two legs. "Why be ashamed of how you were born? There are people out there who choose to do terrible things to people. Those people should be ashamed, for their actions and their choices, not you and me for our gene code. So I can melt metal without so much as a thought, so what? Do I seem like a monster to you?"
He spread his arms to aid inspection. Granted, he didn't look amazing in his shirt and hastily thrown on cargo pants, but certainly not like a monster. He knew some people who did, but a few of them were perfectly lovely.
Something clearly was bothering the kid. Quite a lot by the look of it. Cafas watched with interest while he finished his pasta, mopping up the remains with the bread roll. He wondered which part of the story in particular was bothering him. Lots of potential in there.
"You looks like you're struggling with something. I'd face that sooner rather than later if I were you. Life is much harder if you don't." He left out the bit about how he was kind of a mass murderer in his own right, and knew all about facing demons. He felt it was best if people didn't know about that.
No really? Why on earth would you not want people to know you're a murderer? How could that possibly ever go wrong.
Cafas began on the pudding. It was quite good. He was between mouthfuls when he came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, going to ask the obvious question. "So, why are you ashamed of being a mutant?" It seemed like a logical conclusion to draw from his experience with the kid so far.
He watched more closely. Even if the guy didn't want to talk about it, maybe he'd give something away with his reaction.
The sheer stupidity of the clearly rhetorical question blew Cafas' mind. How someone could not understand the idea of self defense. It's right there in the name! He felt like this was going to be a very long hour. Still, it might do the kid some good. Even if Cafas' reasons weren't quite what he'd given, and more along the lines of teaching the kid what happened to snarky little pricks.
Never know, maybe he'll learn to get his angst out this way. Drawing sure doesn't seem to be working.
"Alright, right foot back, bout shoulders width. Face forward, guard up." Cafas pulled the kids arms into the right position. "Right, now, you're going to feel like making a fist. That's a great way to break a finger. You're far better off using an open palm." Cafas showed him what he meant, fingers curled down but palm open.
He gave the kid an experimental shove. Not hard, just enough to test his balance. It wasn't bad, but never hurt to remind them. "Stay on balance." He did a circle around.
"Okay, first thing first, the trick to fighting is strike first and strike hard. If a fight looks inevitable, swing before he does. Hit him before he hits you. Good opener is two left jabs and a hooking shot from the right." Again, he showed him what he meant. "The lefts soften him up a bit, daze him so he doesn't see the right coming. Make them fast, aim for the nose. The right is the powerhouse. If you can get a good shot to the side of his head you could end it there."
Not that I suspect he'll be capable of throwing a good shot.
He moved in front of the kid and held his palms up at roughly the kid's face height, maybe a bit higher. "Okay, like I showed you, my palm is the target, your left hand punching my left palm." He'd move his hand as necessary to catch the blows.
Posted by Cafas on May 20, 2013 7:46:20 GMT -6
Cheshire likes this
X-Men
Team Leader of the X-Men Member of AV!Haven
Hetero with notable exception
Cafaya
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Mar 7, 2020 21:43:37 GMT -6
Cafas
Cafas looked at Allison. He looked into her eyes and gauged what he saw there. He wasn't any great judge of character. Not really. Something in there though, something told him all he needed to know. He pulled out a scrap of paper and scribbled down his number. He put it into her hand. "Any time, day or night. If you get into trouble, call me."
He did wonder how far against the rules she meant. He suspected that all the way was a safe bet. He'd be dead before he let his friends down though. He knew that much. He may have grown attached to his mass murder free lifestyle, but sometimes it was necessary.
He searched for something else to say, but came up empty. Allison climbed off the bike, so he settled for looking at her. He didn't know when she might have to call him, that was the problem with trouble, but he suspected he wouldn't have to wait long. Trouble was never far away in New York.
"For sure, at the next one. Keep safe Allison. Trouble's brewing. I can feel it. I don't think that protest will be the end of it." Cafas gunned the engine to life, sat for a moment. With one last nod of farewell he pulled into the street, spun a 180 on the spot, and shot back the way they'd come from, back to the Mansion.
Cafas shook his head at the kid. Emo little prick with no concept of the world. "I'm not going to teach you how to beat people up, I'm going to teach you how defend yourself when people try to beat you up." Cafas looked the kid over again. He didn't seem like he had the physical prowess of some boys his age. You never knew though.
Now the brat had the nerve to imply he may be lying. Cafas was half tempted to make the lesson 'What getting your head kicked in feels like'. Instead he took a steadying breath and shrugged. "Because I have nothing to gain by lying. Frankly, I want to do this because I used to be like you, and my mouth got me all the way to the emergency room. I'd rather that didn't happen to someone else, and that's the path you're walking." Heck, even Cafas wanted to hit him, and that definitely wouldn't be good for the kids health.
"So, an hour of learning how to defend yourself, then you get to punch me in the jaw, and I'll get you out of doing Gym." Cafas extended a hand to shake, as one did when making a deal. "I mean really, what have you got to lose?" Plus if he didn't, Cafas could always lock him in the danger room until it had taught him the value of combat skills.
"Ah, I just turned a spoon into steel gas. Stupid, should have thought about it." He'd just not mention it. They'd assume kids were losing them. Cafas put the bowl of pudding next to the pasta. He let a few mouthfuls pass in silence.
"Alright. I know it can be hard to talk about, so here, I'll tell you a story, it might help, it might not, but I'll tell you anyway. A few years ago, there was an Australian guy. He knew he was a mutant, had known since his early teens. This kid, he was about 17, had a family, had a friend who should have been his girlfriend, had good enough grades. One day, he's driving through an intersection when a truck runs the red. He swerves to avoid the truck, has a head on collision with another car. Killed the other driver instantly. He wakes up. There ‘re paramedics, but it's the guys in suits that worry him. See, mutants tend to disappear in Australia. So he pulls himself together and runs." Cafas had another mouthful, leant back in his chair as he chewed and swallowed.
"He makes it home, goes up to bed. He doesn't sleep though. He packs." Cafas left a pause; he thought it added tension. "They came for him that night. But it wasn't the guys in suits. It was his parents, his neighbours, people he'd known for years. He barely made it out. The scars would probably never fade."
Well when someone lights your pants on fire that does happen.
"See, he'd killed his friend. He knew it too. So he left, and never looked back. He lived on the streets of Sydney, surviving by doing odd jobs and on the kindness of strangers. He learned how to take care of himself, how to fight, how to find food and how to stay alive."
He knew the kid probably wasn't amazingly interested, everyone here had a story like it, but he figured it might help him open up a bit. "He was 19 when he made his way to New York. He'd heard of a place here, a place for people like him. He found it too. They took him in, gave him a home, a purpose, a family. He learned over time not to be ashamed of what he was. You could even say he was proud of it." Cafas smiled at the kid across the table from him; that kid with his sunglasses. "I used to wear sunglasses too, to hide my eyes. I'm not saying you need to take them off. Just remember what you are underneath them, and never be ashamed of it."
The best part of the drive was easily Brooklyn Bridge. Sitting between lanes of traffic and opening up the throttle, sending them rocketing along to a soundtrack of car horns and profanities. He didn't care, and he could always claim an emergency if the NYPD pulled him over. Unless it was someone he knew, but that was unlikely.
They were outside the Sanctuary in pretty good time, given it was New York. The benefits of being able to dodge between traffic. Cafas pulled to a stop and shut the engine off. "So, that was terrible, lets skip the next one. They don't need the stars right?" Cafas smiled, a little guilty for enjoying Allison's company, and contact, quite as much as he had.
"Look. If you need help, I know you have other people you can go to, but... Call me. Tell me if you need an X-man or a friend." He hoped she knew how much he meant that, or exactly what he meant.
Cafas sat on the bike awkwardly. He kind of wondered if she'd invite him in. He wondered if he'd take the offer if given.
Cafas didn't know how much trouble he'd be in for simply beating the kid into submission. It was tempting to do it too. What the kid needed was a real good reality check. Self involved little twerp that he was. "Oh yeah, walk away from the guy that dragged you out here, I'm sure that will go better than your struggles to get free."
Cafas strode up to the boy and locked his fingers around the arm he so kindly offered, whether the gesture was intended for that or not. "You're going to do this. Do you know why? Because under all that hair dye and attitude, I think there's a guy who's been second best his whole life."
That was my problem.
Cafas pulled him back to the position he had been in before. He didn't let go though. "I'm going to make you this offer. You do this with me, this one lesson, an hour of your life, and I'll teach you how to throw a punch, few other basics. Then at the end of that hour, you get to punch me in the jaw, as hard as you can." He had a feeling he would regret that. Still, it might help.
"Plus I'll get you off Gym. This is offer is strictly exclusive to you."
Cafas was fed up with the kid now. His stress dam was at 120% capacity. He needed to release some, preferably under controlled circumstances. "Right, that's it, I've had it with you kid." Cafas stood suddenly and walked over to the kid. "Get up." Cafas waited a second, then reached down and grabbed the kid by the upper arm, yanking him to his feet."Did that, at any stage, sound to you like a SUGGESTION!"
Christ was I really this much of a little shit?
Cafas decided this kid needed to be taught some respect and discipline, maybe pull his head out of his own ass while he was at it. Martial arts might be perfect for him. "You and me are going to have a training session, so that maybe that mouth of yours won't be the death of you. Come on."
Still gripping the kids arm Cafas pulled him out of the room and outside. He'd have used the danger room, but somehow this seemed like it would be more punishing for the kid. "See, mouthing off to X-men tends to be a bad idea. Here's some free advice before we start, pick your fights, so you don't end up facing someone like me that wants you dead."
Cafas dragged the kid to a fairly secluded spot. At least, there didn't look like there were many people around. Those that were payed no attention anyway. He let go of the kid's arm, pretty much throwing him another few steps. "Shut up and stand there. Right, now, you're going to speak when I ask you a question. Now, have you ever practiced a martial art?"
Cafas was glad he was wearing cargo shorts and shirt, because he was likely going to need the flexibility.
"Suit yourself." Cafas drained the pasta. He served it out,a serve and a half each. The bowls he served it in were pretty big to start with, but even they were looking a little over full. He grabbed a couple of good crusty bread rolls and cutlery and put the bowls down on the table.
Cafas heard a phone ring somewhere in the mansion. At that time, it could really only be one phone, by the sound of it, it was the X-men's emergency line. He gave it two rings, went to stand,and it cut off. Clearly someone was up late.
Cafas chewed and swallowed a mouthful before continuing. "So, what's your story Aiden? How'd you end up here? Aside from your powers." Cafas took another mouthful and chewed contemplatively, watching the younger mutant. He looked pretty lean, but not unhealthy thin. Maybe in desperate need of a tan, but there were still muscles there.
Alone spoon sat on the floor. He picked it up and, without thinking, vapourised it. He didn't know why, he just did it, and immediately felt stupid for it. "Ah, man I gotta stop doing that, we'll run out of cutlery."
Whoosh. Cafas liked to imagine he could hear that one go straight over the kid's head. Granted it might have been a retort, but it wasn't much of one. Cafas smiled to himself. He'd reduced the kid to I know you are I said you are retorts already. Maybe he wasn't as rusty as he had thought.
Cafas didn't miss a beat after the super obvious attempt to call him stupid. "If you were looking for an example of the bastardisation and destruction of art and culture by the internet generation, then Cat-girl Mona Lisa is probably an obvious and effective piece to demonstrate your point. If you're going for forcing your own self-pity on others and the self obsession of youth, I'd say fairy imps on bookshelves, infesting people with their aura is a sound choice."
Oh good, a trailer for Dusk. Just what he needed. In a way the kid had a lot on common with Jamet. Both were too sullen for their own good, and both wallowed in their self pity too much, practically forcing it on everyone around them.
"You might have some if you weren't sitting in a room, alone, drawing, and now throwing around insults with a random X-man. As for sunburns, put some SPF 30+ on and remember to re-apply it. Sitting in a room sulking is a sure path to self destruction though."
Aiden huh? Names were very useful to know. Cafas put the flask back in his pocket under the disapproving gaze of the kid."Just asking." Cafas stirred his sauce some more and pushed the meatballs in. He took a spoon and tasted the sauce. He ground a little bit of black pepper in.
"I don't know what you've been through man, but there's no point wearing the glasses here. No-one is going to hate you for what you are here. Unless you're an asshole." Cafas poked at the cooking pasta. It wasn't ready, and he knew that, but it made him feel better to poke it. Like he was doing something. The sauce was pretty much done though. that's why he liked that recipe. It cooked up pretty quickly, and tasted good.
Plus you can't screw it up.
Cafas went back to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of cola. He poured himself a glass, then looked up to Aiden. "How bout some cola, I promise you it's non-alcoholic." Having opened a fresh bottle, he hoped it was, but you could never quite be sure, some people in the mansion got up to far to much mischief.
So that was the game they were going to play was it? Well far be it from him to back down. No, this kid wanted to tango, tango they would. Cafas casually turned on the television, switched to the news and promptly tuned it out. "Ah, I thought it would be a drawing of the inside of your colon." He never even turned his eyes off the T.V.
Smartasses anonymous needs to stop using us as a halfway house.
Oh look, more crime, surprise surprise, crime in New York. Still, it sure beat the gossip section of the "news" broadcasts. He was getting rather sick of his own face. "Anyway I find it helps to discuss your work with people, lets you express your ideas verbally, which can be just the thing you need for that spark of brilliance."
More inane news stories. The same crap, day after day. Heck, the stories were almost the same as when he'd been a kid, on the other side of the planet. Cafas reached to the coffee table and picked up a fork. He focused for a second, until it was as pliable as putty, and started shaping it, playing with it like one fiddles with blu-tac.
"So, you clearly have time off, why not hang out with your friends, it's nearly summer, I would have thought everyone would be out by the pool."
