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 Ashton Drake on May 31, 2011 22:50:24 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
Tea, huh?
He had had a comment for that, but then she went and called him 'detective' again. It shut him up, nicely.
"Good. Just watch out. Someone around here tends to steal all the cream-filleds. Next up," He started to lead without preamble. Without preamble, he showed her all the important spots. Evidence lockup. Offices. And so on, and so forth. Finally, he led her back to his desk. "And this is my desk. We need to get you set up with one of these."
Ashton's desk wasn't in any special office. It was on the floor with the other detective cubicles. Workable. Simple and clean. There weren't any personal touches on it, other than someone's idea of a gift sitting by his phone, counting down the days to certain meaningful events alongside pictures of cats, and his coffee mug. Pens and pencils rested in a blue pencil mug with Teddy Roosevelt on it (also a gift). The background on his computer was rolling green hills and blue sky.
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 31, 2011 21:55:04 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
"That's Detective Drake," Ashton corrected her with a wry smirk. "Though, Boss does have a ring to it." He added. "Coffee room?" Ashton shrugged. It was a start.
So often, when he showed lost puppies around, they were lost. They observed. He didn't teach. They just followed him around without caring where they stepped. Quin wasn't a lost puppy. She didn't deserve to get led astray.
Ashton stuffed his hands in his pockets, and turned towards the coffee room. Coffee was generally accepted as a crucial element in their line of work. And so, to the coffee room he led.
The room was a simple affair, with white paint on the walls, a coffee pot, a microwave, a small fridge for staff lunches, and a couple of chairs and tables. It was a good place to take one's break, but not big enough to hold parties in. Certainly not the kind of location one hit up for socializing.
Ashton pointed to things as he entered the room. "Lunch fridge. Coffee pot. Tables. Cupboards. Creamer." He rattled the powdered creamer box in one hand, then set it back. "Occasionally, someone brings donuts."
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 31, 2011 21:12:03 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
Ashton arched an eyebrow, then smirked at her.
"Okay. I was saying that you wouldn't have to, but if you're offering, sure. I take my coffee black. What about you?" He considered her tastes. It took all of a second. He had no idea what girls these days went for in coffee. This was just a replacement for her last drink. Hopefully, she wouldn't want premium blend.
"Or, I could just get you a replacement lemonade, on me. Since your last one was. Is." He added, with a good-humored grin.
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 31, 2011 19:18:00 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
So, she wasn't a probie. Still a rookie here, though.
"Very nice," He nodded casually. Even if not the world's best, some experience was better than no experience. He didn't usually stroke rookie egos. The key word was 'usually'.
Back to Cynthia, attention went. Cynthia glared up over the edges of her horn-rimmed glasses at him as she delivered her message. Ashton didn't flinch at her comment.
"In that case," He said coolly, turning to officer Archer. "What would you like to see first?"
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 28, 2011 9:22:26 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
(( OOC: Thread set, June 5th. ))
The good thing about intelligence is that it comes from people who are, generally, intelligent. They don't do stuff like not report things for several months, thinking it's irrelevant, or keep the facts hushed. Except when they do. Sometimes, intelligence actually comes from far less intelligent sources than one would like.
New information had surfaced in a missing persons case. People had spotted a muse. Accounts differed in where and when, with who, or how, but the general consensus was 'She practically glowed. Like an angel, missing her halo.' Some even said she had a halo. Some were crackpots living in dumpsters who thought the woman even had wings.
All the information led them like breadcrumbs, to the docks. To a specific ship. A large Lithuanian freighter named 'Express'. How they'd followed the breadcrumbs didn't matter. The point was, they'd tracked her down somehow. Now, all that remained was getting her out alive.
The night was dark, but you wouldn't know it. Pin pricks of light hung in the air around the docks like fairies.
Inside the car, it was cold. Ashton shivered in a shirt and slacks. He'd given his jacket to his partner. He could deal with a little cold weather on a stakeout. Surely, it wouldn't take too long.
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 28, 2011 7:56:01 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
"New to it, yeah." He teased right back.
Cute.
"I think I could manage to sleuth my way through it." He released his grip. "Training to be a detective, huh? How long have you been on the force?" He glanced to Cynthia, who quickly lowered her currently-rolling eyes back to her paperwork. "What are your orders for today?"
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 27, 2011 20:32:28 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
Having hands was great. What could you do with hands? Hold things. Like coffee, or file folders, or-- Hell-oh. Ashton spied a newbie. Down the hallway, by the front desk. New.
He straightened up in his chair, smoothed his tie, and set down his coffee, with a parting sip. Final good byes said, he rose, and made his way to the newbie.
You can practically smell it on a new officer. The ripe, freshness of being green. Ashton didn't need to be told the woman was new. She was talking to Cynthia, and wasn't getting a response. She reeked of freshness, lower rungs of the pecking order... and maybe shampoo. He couldn't tell yet, on the last one. It was kind of against work policies. This one was a cutie, with red hair and a smile that might not last long in the world of MRC. It'd be hard to keep on task. However would he manage? Best he could do was show her a bit of mercy, and show the pretty little lady around.
Ashton approached from her rear. He stopped, by a cubicle wall behind her. He didn't lean on it casually. He stood professionally, tie straight, out-of-place smile on-face. "New here?" He interrupted the ignoring. "Detective Drake." Ashton extended a hand. "You can call me Detective Drake. Friends call me Ashton."
Cynthia glanced up to eye him. Oh boy. Another woman had struck his fancy. Poor thing.
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 24, 2011 19:42:00 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
Okay.
That voice had not come from the tiger's mouth.
And what was he doing, cutting himself off like that, mid-thought?! Ashton jabbed the gun harder into the tiger's neck, to emphasize his displeasure at the current arrangement, and any mistreatment he was receiving.
"Off." He urged.
He wasn't deaf. He'd heard the sound the second time. He was in no position to take his eyes off the tiger on his chest, though. The best he could do was bargain. Here came his end of the bargain. "Off, or I shoot."
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 24, 2011 19:21:20 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
>>"I think we got off on the wrong foot here."
Australian accent? He placed it as she spoke.
>>"I'm Charlie. Charlie Fletcher."
Charlie extended a hand. Ashton looked at it. He looked to his own full hand, and all the napkins she'd stuffed into his grip. A small smirk crossed his lips, gone as soon as it had appeared. "Detective Ashton Drake," he said. He didn't shake her hand. Instead, he turned to put the napkins back where she'd gotten them from. He glanced over his shoulder at her as he replaced them in the holder. "I'd offer to replace your lemonade, but with you already offering to get me another cup... what say we call it even." The faintest hint of an Irish accent flavored his words. He had one, too.
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 23, 2011 14:45:07 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
(( OOC:Posting order is now: Me, Me, Me, Henri, Kealey, Gina. Or rather, Ashton, Aurum, Shin, Henri, Kealey, Gina. ))
The scene unfolded like a paper crane: with tons of wrinkles. As Ashton got on the scene, he noted many things. It turned out, it wasn't a woman. It was a punk lawyer and a teenager. And, he noted, as she arrived. A blond. Lots of people. Too many, for the type of danger they were facing. The type of danger it was his duty to handle. The type of duty they were interfering with. Were these people X-men? Because they sure as hell were excellent at getting on his nerves!
A hand dropped to his breast, under the jacket, and found his firearm. He held it up in front of him at the ready. This was a touchy situation. He couldn't aim the gun, with them crowded around the target like that. He was good, but that? That was on a whole other level.
"Everyone, get out of the way." He shouted. "Detective Drake, MRC. I'll take it from here."
Yet another person arrived on the scene, almost on cue with his words. An Asian on a triangular platform.
What was it with these X-men? They seemed to have problems with both authority, and common sense.
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 20, 2011 15:32:18 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
Armani suit hit ground. Ashton took a step back, pulling his fists up into a fighting stance. He regarded the grounded kid like a kid who deserved to be grounded: with narrowed, parenting eyes.
>>“Switchy-teleportor?” The kid asked.
He didn't seem too phased by the whole 'police brutality' thing. More, impressed. He seemed to want to show off, himself. Did Ashton want to see his power?
Ashton opened his mouth to say "Not really", but the words never left his lips. Before he knew what was happening, a blur of orange and black fur came at him, all muscles and colors. His mouth. It stayed open. His jaw may have dropped a few inches. Maybe hanging on the floor was a fashion statement?
The concrete hit his back hard as chest and paws connected. Ashton's breath left him in an 'oof'. A heavy weight pressed down. Tiger. Ashton's eyes widened for a second to focus up into another set. Tiger. One word said a lot. The kid had turned into a tiger... at least, from his perspective.
Shock didn't last long. It might not even have been a whole second of 'eye-widening gratification'. The tiger wasn't eating him. It could have killed him. It had the chance. But it was licking his hair. Kid was playing around. Being a jerk. And he'd already gotten tired of tigers this week. Ashton's eyes hardened like tempered steel, and locked on the underside of the tiger's neck. It was a very nice neck. Strong. Dangerous. The cat wasn't mauling him, but this was just the amount of justification he needed.
A hand dropped to Ashton's right breast, under his suit jacket. It found his sidearm, somehow, between tiger weight and fabric. A smirk spread across his mouth as he pressed his gun into the tiger's neck and cocked it.
"Second time this week I've had a tiger pounce me." Ashton sneered. "It isn't even original. Watch yourself. I've got a gun pressed against your neck." As if the tiger hadn't already heard, and felt, its existence.
His hair was soggy. Ashton didn't even notice the dinosaur sound.
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 15, 2011 15:32:53 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
The girl was okay. That was good.
The guy had pinned his badge, HIS BADGE, onto his shirt, and hidden it away. That. Was not good. What did that make? Impersonation of an officer, assault of an officer, assault of a mutant pedestrian and resisting arrest?
Ashton didn't pay much attention to what the guy was saying. It was general street jargon for 'my fist, your face, old man', he figured.
"You got a knack for breaking laws, kiddo." He hauled back his hand confidently as the man in the Armani suit lunged at him. The wait between power uses was up. He lobbed the bagel as hard as he could, towards the kiddo's face. He disappeared in a blink. The bagel appeared where he'd just been. It dropped to the cement. Ashton's fist, with all the speed of a lobbed bagel, replaced that bagel in its old position. Flying directly at Armani suit's face.
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 15, 2011 15:11:28 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
>>"Yeah, it...it would appear that I did. Guess that's what I get for trying to be nice."
Ashton stared at her. "You call spilling things on someone... and spilling their drink... nice." He hated thinking of what she did when she was trying to be mean to someone.
Okay. Maybe, he was being less than understanding. Maybe it had been an accident. A day-wrecking, mood-crushing, coffee-spilling accident. It wasn't like she'd murdered anything. Except his cup of coffee. And his suit.
He listened to her offer.
He was a cop. He wasn't a monster. She sounded upset. He knew he was. He started mentally counting to ten. "Okay." Ashton agreed, tersely. "Okay." He repeated, a little less annoyed-sounding this time. "O-kay. I get that you're sorry. Spilled coffee is a sore spot with cops." A second of silence. He decided to ease his tension, and the mood, with a joke. "At least I didn't have a doughnut... I would kill." He looked her dead in the eye. "For a doughnut."
Hey, he was joking about murder. He was trying to ease the mood. This was better! Except he still wasn't dry.
Ashton stepped towards the retreating girl. He stepped past her. He grabbed a napkin. He could dry himself.
Posted by Ashton Drake on May 15, 2011 13:25:14 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
Cinnamon
898
14
Nov 22, 2024 12:10:57 GMT -6
Mugen
You know what else was good form? The second Ashton saw that fist with his badge start coming, his eyes snapped over to another table and focused on it. He focused on an image of himself sitting in a chair, by that table. Or that table's past location. He put his power to work. As the fist flew at his face, his face ceased to be. A table smelling faintly of cinnamon appeared on the ground, far below fist-level, and Ashton appeared seated a short distance away, one leg crossed over the other, by where that table used to be.
The guy hadn't done anything to endanger his life yet, so he didn't draw his gun, but darn it. When a guy is trying to slug you in the face, isn't that just the sort of thing you want to do?
Handcuffs clicked open as Ashton rose from his seat and stepped towards the kid with his badge. As he passed a table, he snagged a bagel from someone's plate. The cooldown on his ability wasn't up yet, but... he knew where that bagel was going, once it was.
"Are you alright, Miss." He persisted, eyes glued to the boy in the Armani suit, voice directed at the girl on the ground.
