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.
"Wounded?" The girl asked, using a tone of feigned concern that corresponded perfectly with the mischievous smile on her lips. But before the man could answer her question with words, his face was wrapped in the deepest sadness accompanied by his extremely expressive cat ears. There was something hypnotic about that expression that ordered her to take him home, feed and pet him... probably it had something to do with those cat ears that made him look like a wounded puppy. But fortunately those same ears reminded her that he was a mutant. And also poor because if he had money these ears would had been surgically removed a long time ago, right?
It was then that the man allowed her to stand on her own and after a long and dramatic farewell, the boy walked away. Meanwhile Celeste remained still in the same place where he left her, watching the scene in disbelief. Was that all? After he took her as a hostage in his arms for so long... he just left like that? Suddenly, the girl wanted to have his attention once more time... just as she did in Valentine´s day when he had adorned her with praises... but she could not apologize, that was not allowed in her family.
It was a hard decision to take, but just when she had decided to let him go, she noticed with horror that the man still had her scarf so she immediately rushed over to walk beside him. "That scarf is very expensive..." Said the girl, as she continued to walk alongside but always trying to keep her gaze straight ahead, not meeting his eyes since she did not want his ears to influence her decisions. "And you are technically stealing it..." She affirmed with certainty, not daring to take it from his tail.
"Hello." The girl greeted the old woman without much enthusiasm while waiting in the doorway... strangely the woman that had insisted so much for her help was now extremely silent and was not moving. It was kind of odd but then something happened that clarified everything. The old woman answered her greeting with a stunning revelation that left the girl paralyzed. The words and his appearance shocked her but the worst was the voice that escaped from that cloak, it was not the sore voice that asked for help one moment ago, but the voice of a man coming from a disgusting roach. It was standing in two feet as if it was the most normal thing in the world. The giant insect excitedly affirmed that he was indeed a giant cockroach, a fact that Celeste deducted all by herself but anyway she appreciated to hear it from someone else. Maybe by having a worldly name to put to that thing, her brain will process it more easily... sadly that did not happen, the shock was so great that the girl continued to stare at the creature in horror, unable to move at all.
Then, the cockroach commented on the fact that she was not carrying a weapon, which put her even more nervous and aware of the situation. The revolver was on the desk, far from her reach but even if she could run to the desk and take the gun before the cockroach could devour her... Would six bullets be enough to kill that abomination? Probably not... probably, there was nothing on earth that can cope with that creature. How had the world changed to engender giant cockroaches? Nuclear weapons probably had something to do with it.
Despite knowing that there was nothing she could do to escape from that horror and because she could not move her legs or utter a single word, she tried to close the door with the hand that still rested on it... but all her efforts were in vain. The strength of the creature was far superior to hers. For once the girl wanted to be as red and strong as Venus, she would even accept the awful monkey tail if that was what she needed to close the door in an instant... but unfortunately she never became the mountain of muscles that she needed to be to close that door.
It was very hard to breathe that unfiltered air from the outside, and the terror she felt was not helping to stabilize her breathing that seemed to accelerate even more as she approached to a panic attack. Her eyes were filled with tears, her hands began to tremble and her legs became unstable like jelly... but then, when she thought that she could not resist any more second of watching and listening to that horrible monstrosity... the cockroach disappeared, of course after cordially saying goodbye.
She stood with her eyes full of tears, staring at the exact spot where the giant cockroach stood one second ago... her brain was still trying to understand how such creature could exist but above all, the mystery of how she was still alive after a close encounter with that terrible monster. Finally, when she decided that she was not going to find any answers from the dusty outside, she stepped into the shelter and pushed the door. Then, with trembling hands she turned the crank again until the door was completely closed.
Her mocha was still on the desk but its content did not seem as interesting as before, however, she remembered the bottle of scotch that Katrina had given her. So without losing a single moment she went to the kitchen to search for the precious bottle. If there was a good time to start drinking, it was after meeting your first giant cockroach.
She was losing consciousness quickly, snatched from her body along with her senses that became weaker each moment. She had become a doll in the hands of that supernatural monster and now she could not even move to save her life. The taste of blood disappeared from her mouth, the pain of the wounds and the teeth on her skin decreased almost in the limit to disappear, she even began to lose her sight behind a curtain of tears and sweat. The only thing that informed her that she was still alive was the persistent voice in her head that mocked his weakness but admired her taste as if she were a gourmet meal.
The man's voice reached her ears; he was commanding the voice in their heads to stop, as if that voice was the one in control of his body.
"...Tell him you want to die sweetheart." The voice continued speaking inside her head. Compared to the effort to speak, death seemed so simple. All she had to do was to stay still and quiet and since she felt no pain and had no way to escape it will come quite easily... however, she needed to try, even if it means to do a superhuman effort. As she tried to answer, her vocal cords vibrated in disorder producing a simple meaningless growl. Her tongue felt as if her mouth was full of wet cotton making it impossible for her to produce words. So after several failed attempts, the girl decided to remain silent. It was simpler.
Then a third voice shout "Stop it!" from somewhere far away in the universe, followed by two explosions barely audible because of her state of almost unconsciousness.
The man stood there, watching the scene with an unnatural calm in his eyes while he waited for his order to provoke some changes in the behavior of that wild animal. His big hands clutched the gun tightly while pointing at the feet of the monster. When he was sure the man was not going to react, he shot two new bullets toward his feet.
After a short jingle from a popular brand of beer, a girl started to speak in a tone that greatly contrasted with the cheerful melody of the previous advertising. "If you remember a future with wild Amazons, a bar inside a Zeppelin, an arena where brave men fought for some food or just an entire city reduced to a handful of people..." She stopped talking for a couple of seconds, letting the words disappear completely and then she continued. "... I invite you to a party at my shelter in exactly a week from now. 7pm. You know where it is." The voice died away slowly giving way to silence once again, only this time it lasted a little longer. The announcer, clearly surprised by the creepy promotion, shuffled papers on his desk until he achieved to focus enough to continue. "Well, those were the words of an anonymous sponsor." Silence. Someone whispered at the announcer then he repeated what they told him. "Please stop calling, we really have no more information than the few words given in the recording."
A copy of the message started to circulate in other radio stations while an adaptation of the same message managed to enter several major magazines and newspapers. The final touches of those invitations were the graffiti that from that day adorned various walls of the city. The references to the dream varied from message to message but all of them agreed on the same: there was going to be a party in her bunker.
One week later...
The first guests arrived before the party officially started, but Celeste was in such a good mood for confirming that more people lived that wicked dream that she decided to start the party a little early to welcome the small group properly by giving them a small tour around the place. The mansion was virtually empty but the orderly chaos produced by all the employees coming and going made the place seem really alive.
The main gates were guarded by two human guards that had orders to question the guests before letting them inside. For the guards, it was just another security measure but for Celeste it was a way to determine how much of that dream was real or shared. Oreven to find some clue as to how it happened. Apart from the questions, they must kindly ask them to not fight. The rule seemed a bit stupid but taking into account the different "factions" that could attend to the party, it was not a bad idea to clarify that the mansion was neutral territory from the start to the end of the reunion. Also, just in case they did not understand that rule, or in case the open bar could cloud their judgment, she had hired Venus and his brothers to be her bodyguard. After all, the girl did not know anyone stronger and bigger than them.
Since all the people in the future knew her powers because of the painting of certain Zeppelin for Katrina's birthday, Celeste chose to display her abilities once again. Her comfortable sundress was painted with ivory and accompanied by silver sandals. It was simple but very confortable and with that outfit, everyone will recognize her despite she was three years younger than in the dream.
Even though at first the idea of sharing her shelter had seemed totally absurd, now that everyone had gone, Celeste was hoping their idea of being outside to be temporary. Of course, she would never admit it openly but she really missed her friends, and not just for the extra services she could sell if they were there. But despite feeling quite alone, that loneliness was a fair price for all the added advantages. Now she had a comfortable bed with a real mattress and it was all for herself. It was quite different from the sleeping bags they used to use when bedridden Slate was using the bed, and with fewer people, the available electricity had increased dramatically, exactly the same happened with fresh food and hot water.
Since she had more electricity to waste, Celeste had extended the promotion of her products to almost an hour, when before it was of only ten minutes. Still, not even her beautiful voice accompanied by Neil Armstrong performing "What a Wonderful World" managed to attract customers that morning. So, at the end of the scheduled hour, she turned off the speakers and returned to her regular routine. Anyway, if anyone wanted to trade something, everyone knew where to find her place. It was not as if she was riding a Zeppelin or something.
Another advantage of having more energy available was that I could watch movies on your old notebook without having to worry about using too much energy. What once was a weekly ritual, became a daily routine so even when she had watched every movie a hundred times, she still turned on the old computer and played some movies. Just for fun. At that moment, the battered external disk chirped several times before the next movie in the list started to play. It was "The lion king".
Herbivores and carnivores cheered the birth of a new lion in a very unbelievable scene... Celeste went to the kitchen to prepare something cold to drink with her homemade lemon pie. Even when she did not know a single thing about cooking, she really liked to enter that tiny space because in that kitchen she could imagine the apocalypse had never arrived. It was as if that part of the universe as freeze in time, keeping all the commodities that used to be common before. One example of the many appliances available was the blender she was about to use to destroy something equally priceless: ice.
When she finished using the noisy blender, the film was at her favorite part so Celeste started to sing loudly along with the characters. "Hakuna Matata!" The girl yelled cheerfully when the song reached an appropriate pace. "What a wonderful phrase." The girl repeated in chorus with the talking animals as she poured coffee and cocoa to the mix. The blender started to blend again while the computer tried to surpass its sound. Even so, she continued singing, because she knew the song by heart. "It means no worries for the rest of your days." The blender finished its task at the exact moment that the three animals joined in chorus to end the song and of course Celeste added her voice as she had done since she was ten.
As the song ended, Celeste poured the content of the blender into a tall glass before heading toward her couch. It was when she reached her desk in the reception, mocha frappe in hand, when she saw a person at her door. She took a long gulp from her glass as if that could give her the strength to hold the giant revolver that rested on her desk. Until that moment, she had never needed to use that monstrosity. Celeste stood beside her desk, holding the heavy revolver tightly as if she could extract courage from that object. She waited. The soft digital bells rang merrily announcing that whoever was on the other side had found the appropriate button. Then, when the tension had reached a point so high that the gun had begun to tremble in her hands, the scared voice of an old woman broke through the small device placed at one side of the door.
Almost without realizing, she had been holding her breath until the woman spoke, so once she confirmed her identity; she left the gun on the desk and began to breathe again in great gulps. It was just a harmless old lady. Almost laughing at the outbreak of paranoia, Celeste walked the few steps that separated her from the door. "One moment please." She said to the intercom. Moments later, Celeste began the arduous task of turning the octopus shaped crank. She turned it for almost a minute until all the locking bolts retracted to allow the door to open. It was then that the girl pulled hard to create an opening big enough for the old lady to enter or trade. "Hello." She said to the hooded woman.
Since they were stuck in that romantic hug that held both uncomfortably close, it was very difficult for her to concentrate on anything else than his face. Partly because of those stupid ears that keep staring from above and moving occasionally, probably in an attempt to distract her from some other vileness in execution. The other part of her inability to look somewhere else was based on the fact that, even for a mutant, he was quite good looking. So, in order to avoid staring at those inhuman ears that displeased her so much, the girl chose (badly) to move her gaze back to his face. Unfortunately, she accidentally concentrated on his lips, creating another uncomfortable gap for her thoughts to run wildly. Would that monster dare to steal her first kiss and condemn her forever? For what else were they in that position? In the movies it always ended in kisses... But while she was analyzing these ideas, her own human ears caught a strange phrase. "If I insist in what...?" For a moment, she thought that the mutant had read her mind and was about to kiss her (because she insisted) but then his arms mercilessly dropped her.
Once his arms disappeared from behind, her body became a victim of gravity. Meanwhile Celeste tried desperately to cling to his body without success. When her destiny was clear, she put aside her useless efforts to avoid falling and concentrated fully on the task of wishing him a slow and painful death. Fortunately, before she could kill him with her incredible psychic powers, the mutant caught her one more time, showing the same agility and grace as the first time. Why did he do that? The discomfort and curiosity she felt toward him began to turn into hatred so quickly that the girl had to fight the temptation to stab her Taser into his chest. It was a difficult task, but for the moment, her murderer impulses were under control.
What was most difficult was to avoid verbalizing a long list of sentences beginning with "how dare you" ranging from trivial issues as how he dared to use that mischievous smile with her, or who told him to be so playful and almost unpredictable but even more important that all those things, was the fact that he was still holding her when she had made it very clear that she did not want it. Of course the girl was willing to forgive his last act of boldness, because his arms were all that separated her from the floor and that fall, although short, promised to be painful and humiliating. Therefore, in thanks for keeping her (not so) far from the floor, she commented on his grace and audacity with very accurate words. "I hate you."
Fear and blood loss continued to reduce her strength, leaving her body empty and unable to fight. Soon her mind surrendered too, making her fall under the influence of his words. Her whole body was a victim of those illusions to the point that her mind was beginning to believe in every word and every external sensation even more than in the sensations produced by her own body. Her feelings started to look almost weak in contrast, almost distant. The pain of her wounds, the warmth of her blood on her skin, the cold air on the blood... everything was overcome by his hunger, desire and excitement.
"Watching you bleed..." She thought, before realizing that she wished to watch her blood. The wound in her neck exerted an enormous magnetism over her but since the injured in her wrist was easier to observe, the girl fixed her gaze on that bleeding wound. Her blood was so red, even dark at times... as black as chocolate. As the description of strawberries and chocolates continued advancing until it reached the last "juicy bite", the desires to lick her blood grew wildly until the point where the rest of the world disappeared momentarily.
The knife hit the ground while she grabbed her twin's hair, pulling hard to bring the girl toward her. Then her right hand closed over her exposed neck to sink her teeth on her soft skin moments later. The blood she had tasted in her mind for so long started to bathe her hand dyeing it red and once again the world turned black. As chocolate.
Even when she knew that the pressure exerted by his tail was the minimum necessary to keep her trapped, Celeste could not shake the feeling of suffocation off of her neck. It was almost as if that odious appendix was squeezing her throat instead of her waist, so in order to stay alive she concentrated on the task of breathing.
Then the man spoke again with his voice full of sadness or perhaps even disappointment. Frightened, Celeste hurried to reply while trying very hard to sound convincing. "I am proud!" She shouted. Since the tone of her voice evidenced that she was on the verge of tears, she cleared her throat and repeated the same thing again in a much calmer tone but still affected by fear. "I am very proud of being a mutant." While she was saying that, she nodded vigorously for a moment until she needed to focus on breathing again in order to calm down.
Even when she managed to calm herself enough to pay attention to her surroundings, all the people around them became mere whispers that she was not able to decipher. Soon, a strange feeling of fatalism grow in her mind to keep telling her that no one was going to come in her help, so she remained silent while waiting for their verdict. She was managing to do it just fine until the woman mentioned a tattoo provoking a desperate denial. "Not a tattoo! Please!" The girl cried, aware that a tattoo was almost worse than dying. But then, before she could continue to lament about her beautiful skin, the woman moved toward her while a strange substance formed a translucent knife in her hand.
Instantly paralyzed by fear and even lacking the ability to scream, she simply watched as the dagger was introduced in her chest. Celeste felt no pain, a fact that could only mean two things... she was dead or nothing happened. But how could she be okay with a knife in her chest? She was dead. So, why was she still breathing and trembling? While thousands of stupid questions started to appear in her head, she noticed she was not even bleeding. Her look of surprise jumped from the strange knife to the woman and then to the man. What had happened?
Celeste knew very well that the coat of arms used by her family was an elaborate lie, because her family had never been noble enough to own one but each time she stared at the carved wood plate that represented the greatness of her family, she always imagined her family motto as "We do not apologize." There was no better phrase to describe her family. So under the accusation that she had apologized, Celeste burst with a totally justified denial.
To her delight, the strength and certainty of her commanding voice accomplished to frighten the other girl. Celeste in return, stepped forward taking a defensive position with her arms crossed over her chest. Her arms remained as firm as possible, as if that stillness could demonstrate her determination to not apologize and not let her win. It was almost as if an evil which had petrified her with a spell, turning her into a beautiful statue.
But before Celeste could enjoy that little moment of triumph, her enemy broke the silence with a question full of sarcasm that implied she had indeed apologized. Celeste flinched while her pride squirmed inside her chest under the weight of those simple words. Celeste ignored them as best as she could, saving all her anger for her next question about her social status and her inability to buy an expensive piano.
The fact that the response of the other girl was so brutal only meant that Celeste had found one of her weaknesses... but still, that small fact could not defend her against the adjectives and evaluations used against her. Her first reaction was to feel extremely insulted, then angry, but before she could react, a passive sadness descendent over her. Many of these things were true, and deep down, she knew it.
For at least half a minute Celeste remained silent, processing all the information while trying to find an appropriate reply, when she did not find anything to hurt her, she clung to the only thing that had worked before. "Then ..." Her words were almost shy, escaping from her lips very gently, slowly, almost as if she was building the phrase as the words became sounds. "...you can´t buy one."
The stillness of the morning was so overwhelming that she thought she would die of boredom. There was nothing interesting to do. She had heard all the songs on her IPod hundreds of times, there was no movie that they had not watched that many times and of course, no new book to read. Her only hope was to wait quietly until someone knocks on her door to trade then she could chat with the mysterious person and pass some time. With that idea on her mind, she sat behind her desk with her black eyes fixed on the small monitor and a homemade breakfast.
Aside from that feeling of boredom, Celeste was enjoying a hearty breakfast in the quietness of her bunker while the rest of New York died slowly under the influence of radiation, lack of food and water, or impaled by the infamous Isabel, so in the end, boredom was a far price to pay for all that peace.
But even the peace of her new home was not enough to make her forget the state of the rest of the world. She knew very well that outside her bomb shelter the city was extremely cruel and sadistic, so it was pointless to go outside. Plus, the sturdy walls gave her security against most of the outside dangers while the solar panels provided the energy needed to run all those little luxuries that the rest of humanity could only dream about.
Posted by Celeste on Sept 15, 2012 18:51:35 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
419
0
Jul 13, 2013 16:51:53 GMT -6
Its me again. My dad is arriving this Tuesday and he will stay for 15 days. I do not know if I am going to be able to post because I need to give him a tour around the city, that will use most of my daily time.
Sorry for the wait. I promise I am posting back next month for sure.
Hi! I am having a period of lack of muse, homesickness and a tiny little bit of depression so I am not posting as often as I should... in fact, I owe a lot of replies that are a week old at the moment of writing this post. I hope to post soon, but I do not know if I may be able to do it... each time I sit to write, I just cant manage to write more than a few words before giving up. This affect both of my characters, Celeste and Guglin. I am trying to post, so if you are in a thread with me, please be patient, I do not forget.
Even when Celeste was expecting a verbal acknowledgment after her beautiful and sincere compliment, she did not even dare to protest when the other girl accepted her words in silence. Still, she was disappointed at the lack of response and she could not hold a crooked smile from forming on her lips. Incredibly, Celeste managed to remain silent and avoid starting a new fight for the great discourtesy she had just received. So after a few seconds of silent, she managed to store her jealousy and anger for a future tantrum.
But when she dared to say that she had apologized, Celeste could not resist and started to shake her head vehemently. When that was not enough, the girl added the motion of her hands that began to move as windshield wipers, and then her voice. "I am not apologizing!" She said, raising her voice to the limit of a shout. It was one thing to pay for that piece of worthless paper and quite another to let someone like her to mock and trample her pride. Celeste continued to stare angrily at her end even after all her denials ended. Finally she crossed her arms over her skinny chest to inform her rival that she would not admit it was an apology.
Once she ended shooting invisible daggers at her new rival, she noticed the presence of the piano one more time and her thought raced to a simple conclusion that she stated once the malicious glances were not enough. "Can you really afford one?" She asked with malice while clearly looking at the piano. A faint smile touched her lips as she waited for the girl's answer.
Thanks to her extraordinary magic, Celeste achieved to push that cool violet away from its original container making it descends gracefully to the first line of the sheet. Since it was compressed between the other lines of dull white, the color seemed to glow brightly alerting everyone of its supernatural origin. But still, not even the fear of being discovered achieved to put an end at the contemplation of her wonderful work, since each of her acts of witchcraft were wonders that needed to be contemplated.
It was while she was completely immersed in that silent meditation that the girl heard a voice, at first distant and unclear, but then as real and impossible to ignore as the very color she was staring at. The question pronounced by the adolescent destroyed her fantasy world, forcing her to descend back to the real world where a question was waiting for her.
In her opinion, the question was totally irrelevant because it was obvious that she was doing art, an artistic transformation beyond the limits of physics but then Celeste remembered which what kind of people she was dealing, simple commoners, so she prepared herself to give him a polite and serious answer. Just when her lips parted to utter her response, Celeste noted with despair that the boy was staring at her hands, she instinctively moved her gaze despite knowing what she was going to find. The small triangle of fabric still hung between her fingers. Immediately the girl rushed to hide the evidence of the crime, interposing her notebook in front of the object to prevent the boy to analyze the fabric. Hopefully he would not have noticed the unusual gray tone of that triangle.
When she finally found her voice after a few seconds that seemed to last for hours, she achieved to pronounced a shy "Nothing." that needed of all her courage to escape her lips. The girl then remained still without anything good to say or any way to get out of there; she just let the silence surround them. But then when it seemed that she was never going to be able to speak again, she found the strength she needed to return the acte d'accusation to the boy in a tone of disgust. "Are you spying me?"
I hope to see you around for a long time.