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.
Neena glanced up as the door creaked open, and Sara peeked in, before coming inside fully.
“Good evening Mr. Campbell.”
"Hello Miss Nobes, I thought I smelt you."
Neena's eyebrow quirked. On those two it was very hard to read expressions, but she felt she knew the lioness well enough to recognize coyness when she saw it. And was that a smirk on the guard's face?
Thank you for assisting with my Uniform.. I would like to have you measure me for some more later, If you would be so kind."
<"Note to self, ask Sara about Dragonman. She knows more than just his name....">
She continued sorting through the box, but kept her ears open just a tad wider. Her lips twitched a bit at the corners.
"I was hired in to help with the humanitarianism of this place.. a mutant for humanitarianism, thats funny.. "
Neena snerked. "Yeah, this place has irony up the wazoo."
"Don't know, Neena, but i caught two of them playing footsy in the bathroom.. so I think there's something going around via means which I will not be taking a part of.."
"Oi...." Neena rolled her eyes, then smiled. Footsy, eh? The wheels began turning on another method of spreading more of her 'love' among the guards.
"I will, the next time I see her.. My post is the female Barracks tonight, seeming one of the guards got beaten up here because they were being stupid... Guess they have me doing jobs no one else wants.."
"Pfft! You didn't happen to meet that guard did you? The guy is not only an ass , but a stupid ass to boot. We're not usually violent. Self preservation and all that red tape. But he deserved what he got, and you can gladly tell him that from me."
With that she walked forward and knelt on the ground besides the box, and began sorting through it's contents. She was well withing attack distance now, should Dragonman choose. But Neena decided there wasn't much point in staying back any longer. She got the feeling that there wasn't much she could do if that happened anyway, no matter how far away she was. And it was a good example for the other girls.
At least the ones that wouldn't consider him a traitor to mutantkind. Those were skulking against the walls, scowling from the shadows. The little one under the bed remained where she was, unsure what to think or do.
Neena paused and looked at his tail. For some odd reason, she suddenly had the intense urge to jump on it.
"You're not a cat, Airhead," she murmured aloud to herself. She shook her head, and returned to the sorting.
"Behave.. As in Not cause me to be provoked.... I'm a nice guard."
"Ah, is that what that means? Well, in that sense of the word, yeah. I'm behaving." Her smile was innocent, yet.... not....
"We are all here to be made better, so that society will accept us as functional members of society.. Though it seems illogical how it was.... " He paused, then added. "I Can't talk about this here."
Neena snorted. "Yes, I'm sure we'll all be the better for it when we leave." No point in hiding the sarcasm there. "Thus the need for the graveyard."
Anyway.. The stuff that she sent, is Female hygiene stuff.. Tampons.. Pads.. stuff for yeast infections are with her though, so if ya got problems she'll take care of you.."
Neena came a bit further forward to check. Some of the girls would welcome the supplies greatly, including her.
"The guards are using Hemroid Cream for the rashes, Don't know why they are getting that rash, doesn't bother me."
"Rashes? That's a shame. Maybe they need the hygiene stuff more than we do." But that same smile remained on her face. "Tell Miss Gwendolyn thank you for us, Sir....." She let the sentance trail off for him to fill in his name.
Most of the girls looked up in surprise. While they were used to guards entering the dorms, most came unannounced and didn't care whether the women were decent or not.
"Alright.. I noticed that a few of you ladies haven't had the proper hygiene.. To prevent Disease and... make everyone.. in general.. more comfortable... Gwen Told me to deliver this here."
When the draconic-looking mutant appeared, reactions varied. One younger girl literally squeaked and hid under the bed. Others backed well away from him. Neena glanced up, and recognized Ayesac quickly; it was hard not to with that mutation. She hadn't had a chance to talk with him though, and wasn't sure what to think of him yet.
None of the others seemed willing to approach him just yet. Neena sighed, and walked down the main aisle, stopping just out of arms's length.
"A gift from Miss Gwendolyn is always appreciated," she stated simply. She was still angry at the news article, and didn't bother to hide her frown. But she was also curious to see what he'd brought.
(OOC: Open to all in the Women's Barracks. This thread takes place at night, roughly 1 1/2 days after Stir Crazy.)
Usually easy-going and unhurried about life, even life in the Camps, there was a definite rush to Neena's movements this night. The folds of the laundry were rather sloppily made, as was their placement in the various rooms of the Guards Barracks. No doubt her careless work would be noticed in the morning, and she'd be dragged back to do everything all over again, on top of her usual chores. But she didn't care. Her attention was focused on something else.
Doug had come through with word on the locked room in the Infirmary, as well as some other interesting news. He wouldn't elaborate, not surprising considering he'd slipped the packet to her at the Laundry, with two other guards around. But she had gotten the impression that whatever it was, it was important. After speaking with Sara and a few others, Doug seemed to be holding to his word, attempting to find ways to make Camp life a bit more bearable. It was too early to say for sure, but he did appear to be on the level.
She deposited the last of the laundered uniforms, and waited for her escort to decide if he needed her to do anything else. Ethan, her guard escort, the one who drew enjoyment from her clumsiness, watched lazily. He was disappointed that she hadn't done more than bark her shins a few times, and so had spent most of the evening teasing her about her eyes. The swelling in her eye had gone down, leaving her with raccoon eyes, which she kept lowered. Neena ignored him most of the time, though she did act embarrassed, and didn't dissuade his conclusion that Doug had been responsible, for that and a few other marks on her arms. Let him think what he wanted, like all of the other small-minded idiots in uniform.
Fortunately, Ethan was as anxious to finish his shift as Neena was, and so he didn't examine her work closely. He escorted her to the Women's Barracks and checked her in like a good little guard, and then hurried onto whatever business he had. Neena did note that he was headed in the direction of the kitchen. Again. Curious.
She looked around at the other girls, as she usually did, to see who was back from their chores and who wasn't. Then she moved to her own bunk, slipping the little packet out of her dress. She had used some of the extra bandages she pilfered to create a makeshift bra for herself, so she could tuck things away when the opportunity arose.
The packet was flat, a newspaper folded around it. Part of the word 'massacre' popped out in the dark, bold block of a major headline.
<"I wonder who ticked of who this time?"> she mused to herself. She opened it carefully, in case he had written something on the wrapping. There was a little note on a piece of notebook paper.
It's a sedative, put in the food. Made to keep the mutants tired and placid. Enough to knock out two armies.
Neena frowned. Well, that explained a lot. No wonder the food tasted so awful. Very few cooks were that bad. It also presented a rather substantial problem. There was no way the inmates could quit eating; some of them were skin and bones already. And the shock collars kept any mutations from aiding them.
Maybe there was a way to get to the cook.... Maybe substitute something else.... Who did she know in the kitchen?
There was more to the note, so she read on.
But it looks like armies have bigger problems. Check the paper.
<"Bigger problems?">[/i] Neena blinked, and took a closer look at the paper. Her eyes flicked back and forth. Her frown deepened further and further, until her face radiated anger.
"Idiots!" she finally blurted out, adding a string of words in Swahili, loosely translated as 'narrow-minded, two-toned, river-pig scat'. Some of the girls looked at her, startled.[/color]
---------------------------------
MALL MASSACRE CLAIMS FIFTY-EIGHT
The casualty count from Wednesday's Stalker massacre has officially been recorded at fifty-eight. Among them were fourteen of the Mall Security Force. Twelve of the count were aged under twelve years old, and three were over eighty. Fifteen are still in the hospital, though all have been downgraded from critical to serious condition.
Efforts are being made to find out why the Stalker robot malfunctioned, however the machine disappeared right after the massacre, and has not yet been located. Witnesses testify that the machine had been chasing down a pair of alleged mutants, but the reason it turned on humans, who they were sworn to protect, is still under investigation.
Mary Maestes, one of the foremost voices for Mutant Rights, was quoted as saying, "The Stalker robots are more of a menace to human society than the mutants Congress are trying so hard to supress. Mutants at least have feelings, and can be reasoned with. They are responsible for their actions just like everyone of us, and should be treated as such. But who is responsible for the Stalkers actions? Washington commissioned them, so who is really responsible for this tragedy?"
Notably, Reverend Hawkethorn, pastor of one of the local Churches of Humanity, one of the most vocal in favor of the Stalker Robots, and also rumored to be considering running in next year's Congressional Elections, refused to comment on the situation.
While the Stalker robots have been very helpful in enforcing the Mutant Registration Law, fear of a repeat of this tragedy has the local authorities wondering if such measures truly are a help, or if they have become a danger to those are suppose to be protecting. A spurt of protests have resulted from this event, much of it taking place where registered mutants have been utilized in Community Development projects, aimed at teaching mutants to use their talents constructively, rather than destructively.
In this writer's humble opinion, perhaps the Mutant Registration Law is no longer as clear cut an issue as it is often presented.[/i]
Neena opened one eye as a bit of commotion from next door woke her. The walls were nearly sound proof, which contested to the noise level in the next cell. She couldn't make out who it was, but there was a short list of those who could, and did, make that much racket during their stay.
She yawned, and tried to shift to a different position. 'Comfortable' didn't apply at all, especially today. With a sigh, she went back over the previous day's events. Nothing truly unusual had happened, per se.
The morning had started before dawn, with her waking from yet another dream about her long-dead brother and mother. The frequency had increased recently, leaving Neena tired yet again. Upon waking, severe cramps had taken over her midsection, keeping her from standing for several minutes. She counted back in her mind, and realized she must be near her period again. Her monthly cycles had never been easy, and were often accompanied by, not only severe pain and weariness, but nausea and dizzy spells as well.
Needless to say, her temper also suffered. Or rather, anyone running afoul of her during that time suffered from her temper. This would be the second while imprisoned. The first had been an absolute nightmare to deal with. She'd butted heads with a number of guards over the course of two days, until she'd had enough. The enthusiasm and ferocity with which she had lunged at the throat of one particular woman had surprised more than a few, guards and inmates alike. Naturally she'd ended up in Isolation, though not before sending several others to the Infirmary, and spent her first two days of her cycle in the cell. The resulting mess and smell had been atrocious....
And it was shaping up to be a repeat performance, if the heaving feeling in her stomach currently was any judge. Mentally she steeled herself to be on her best behavior, if at all possible.
She glanced down at her arm, where a neat set of teeth marks blackened her already-dark skin. Apparently some of the guards objected to being choked to death. On the flip side, she objected, rather violently, to being used as a punching bag. She sniffed; the bloody nose had stopped long ago, but her nose still hurt, as did her wrist, though those were phantom pains from the numerous electrical shocks sent through her nerves.
She sighed, and settled back against the wall again, closing her eyes.
<"No use remembering it,"> she thought to herself. <"It'll probably happen again anyway."> She reached up to scratch her head furiously; somewhere along the line she'd managed to pick up a case of lice. She'd had that twice before, but not since she was a preteen. The constant itching in her scalp threatened to drive her crazy.
<"Next it'll be flees.... Note to self: Get Doug to smuggle in lice and flea treatments. And possibly a few razors."> She was seriously considering shaving her head right now....
Usually Neena viewed the Solitary confinement as an excuse to catch up on missed sleep. She went about her business in the Camp like everyone else, with a permanent grin on her face. She put Pollyana to shame. But today, and a few others scattered along the seven weeks, she felt far from positive.
A huge image of her mother's pearl-white smile filled the darkness behind her eyelids, and Neena could almost feel her soft, gentle touch on her cheek. Kwasi, her youngest brother, also grinned at her. The laughter of small children echoed in her ears.
"What's the matter Neena? Are ya scared? Scardy-Neena! Scardy-Neena!"
"Am not! I'm not 'fraid of anything! Not even lions!"
On cue, a low growl echoed around her, then doubled, and tripled, becoming a rumble below her seat. There were numerous other calls; screaming baboons, a vultures cry, the thump-beat-thump of a zebra stampede, countless others. The walls of the cell faded away into the soft gold, grey and blue of her homeland in Africa, and stretched beyond the horizon.
"To fear is normal." A man appeared beside her as she watched the sunset, craggy and wrinkled in the face with age, greying hair, brown eyes filled with kindness and gentle strength. Soft, rhythmic chanting seemed to resonate around them both. "To fear is normal," he repeated softly.
"I know it is Babu, and I am not normal. But.... I am only human."
"You are strong, Little One."
"I'm.... beginning to doubt that.... I don't know how much longer I can last Babu. I'm wearing down, reaching my limit."
"Which limits? The ones you are placing on yourself? Or on others?"
"Both."
"Perhaps then you are concentrating too hard on finding them. Perhaps it is time to let them find you instead."
Neena glanced curiously at her grandfather, only to find that he had disappeared into the wind, like a scene out of Lion King. A smile cracked her face, and she chuckled.
"I guess there's a reason dreams never make sense," she said aloud to no one in particular. "They're too melodramatic even for the movies."
With a grunt she plopped down beneath a tree, leaned against the trunk, and allowed the dreamscape to give much needed peace and rest to her sleeping body.
Neena pulled on a smile for Raina's sake. She hadn't seen the young woman smile very often, so she encouraged it when she could.
She listened to the next announcement, then made a small noise in her throat. Well, at least they were getting away from cold laundry duty and receiving some warmer clothes.
She inhaled deeply, and let it out in an exaggerated sigh. "Well, ladies," and she put her arms around all three girls, "guess we get to go on a field trip. Shall we?"
Neena gave up trying to see the entire list; a surprising number of the women were keenly interested in the idea, and their possible placement. Neena was approaching her monthly cycle, and her tolerance level inched lower every day. Rather than risk going off on someone other than a guard, she backed away to an area with more space. She notice Ruby and Sara seemed to have similar ideas.
"Its gonna be worst out there than it is in here."
“It could be. But that’s hard to say till we’re out there. It could also present new opportunities.”
She glanced thoughtfully at the two girls besides her. Usually a pillar of positiveness, today Neena just didn't feel like being Pollyanna. Instead she simply grunted a vague semblance of agreement. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Sleep had been fleeting and restless lately.
Neena sat near the middle of the room, shoveling down the tasteless items that passed as food in the camps. She'd found that if she held her breath and simply inhaled the food, usually it stayed down long enough for her body to glean whatever meager nutrition it provided. Though when the announcement of the 'Develop-genetically challenged working for humanity project' was made, she felt her stomach protest.
"Glorified community service, you mean," someone nearby muttered.
"You mean slavery," someone else replied. "Like they haven't humiliated us enough already."
Neena leaned her head in her hand, and arm on the table, chewing on her pinkie nail as the announcement continued.
“It is with excitement that I have issued upon the guards the lists of those mutants who currently qualify for this program. Please check the posted lists in the mess hall to see if you are eligible. If you are not yet on this list do not fret- a little good behaviour from you will go a long way.”
<"Good behavior? Well, that let's me out...."> She snickered to herself and stood to return her tray. A subdued murmur ran through the Mess Hall as the women exchanged thoughts about the program. Purely out of curiosity, Neena paused by the nearest guard and asked for a list. She wanted to see who had been deemed 'well-behaved'. There were few that she knew, that she would have placed on that list.
Her eyes stopped halfway down the page.
Name - Nehanda Jenkins. Assignment - Park Cleanup.
She looked at the guard over her glasses. "You're serious?" she asked flatly. He snatched the list back, glaring.
"Consider yourself lucky. If I had my way all of you cop-killers would be rotting in Isolation for the rest your freakish lives. Nelson's just a brown-nosing pencil pusher."
Neena refrained from reminding the man that he could usually be found stuck to his supervisor's hind quarters, in more ways than one. Instead she moved outside, and to another list-holding guard. She wanted to see who else was on the list.
(OOC: Okay, I tried to resist, but I couldn't. lol Last word, coming up! ;D)
Lost in thought, even the not-so-hard shove knocked her off balance and onto the laundry.
"And just remember, there's more where that came from. Got it?"
She twisted to watch Dough swagger off. She just barely resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at his retreating backside.
<"That's what I get for opening my big mouth,"> she grumbled silently and pushed herself up. Out loud she muttered, "At least I'm not the one with my fly still hanging open...."
"Yeah. No offense, but I like my women willing, know what I mean? Unlike some folks I could mention."
"How old-fashioned of you." Neena accepted the hand up, wincing just slightly.
"All right, let’s get you back on your shift, and I’ll see what I can find out about that mysterious door of yours. Meanwhile, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go around telling all your friends I beat you up and raped you… y’all not trusting me on general principles is one thing, your friends lookin’ to get back at me for stuff I didn’t do is something else again."
She chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll make sure the right people don't get the wrong idea. For now. However, I do suggest you be a little rougher under the camera's eye. You know, 'push-and-shove' rough. No one will think twice about that."
She paused for a moment to regard the man in front of her, and to consider what she was possibly getting herself into. She would like to delude herself into believing that she was a perfect judge of character, and that her gut feeling that he was trustworthy was infallible. However, Neena wasn't that naive. First impressions were often wrong, and second impression even more so. The possibility that she had walked into an elaborate trap was very, very real.
Still, going through life always fearing betrayal made for a very dull life. May as well hope for the best, and plan for the worst. And really, what was the worst that could happen? She, and possibly others, could end up dead. She did not want any of her friends to die, and would do what she could to prevent it. But her own death.... would that really be so awful?
Her silent musings kept her occupied, and the thoughtful expression on her face might possibly have been misconstrued as submissive or spirit-broken. Maybe. Either way, she kept her head bowed and shoulders hunched slightly as they exited the closet. She moved jerkily, retrieving the loads of laundry she'd abandoned in the hall.
(OOC: Let me know if I'm assuming too much about the original Doug's character.)
"You have got to be kidding me. If I were going to assault you, I’d shock the fight out of you first… not to mention that you look like you haven’t had a solid meal in weeks. You make it sound like there’s a level playing field in here! "
"Playing field has nothing to do with it. Actually, someone tried that one already. He stopped pressing the button too soon, and didn't react fast enough when I got back up," Neena countered with a sly smile. "Had I seen you pull out the remote, we might not have had this talk. Kudos for keeping it pocketed."
"Hey, it was the simplest thing I could think of that explained getting us away from the surveillance cameras, not to mention your escort service out there. Folks in charge don’t much like guards having secret meetings with inmates, but everybody looks the other way for the fucking perverts. You got a better idea, I’m all ears."
She shrugged. "Depends. How's your pain tolerance? If you can track down a razor, I can give you a convincing set of cuts on your face and arms, with minimal pain. You can cover them up with bandages, and I can take a few black eyes. Then you can play pervert with the big boys all you want with no one the wiser." She rolled her eyes, then raised one eyebrow. "And depending on how this relationship progresses, I suppose I can eventually act like I've given in. At least in public anyway."
Then she snorted. "Besides. Even I wouldn't object to a change in laundry escort. It might save my shins...."
"OK, if that’s the way you want it… fine."
As he looked her over, Neena nodded and dropped her hand and defensive stance. She watched his eyes as he decided where to land the hit. Just before he swung, her expression softened slightly.
She didn't flinch or move at all, so the blow hit home. Her head twisted, along with the upper half of her body, and other side of her head and shoulder connected with the wall with a loud THUD!! A genuinely pained grunt was cut short as she dropped to the floor.
<"Dang.... guy's got a mean hook....">
Had her life or dignity actually been in danger, Neena could have continued fighting, albeit with a major headache and blurred vision. She had done so in the past, and this was no different. She still didn't trust Doug. But she'd decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. For now. Time would tell if it was a wise choice or not.
She lay where she fell, waiting to see what he'd do next. After a moment she murmured quietly,
"Haven't seen you use that remote once since Day One. Glad you didn't disappoint me."
Doug's reaction was both expected and not; Neena hadn't thought he'd willingly let her maul his face, but his aborted offensive was unexpected. Apparently had some combative skills. Interesting.....
He put as much distance between them as possible, which wasn't much to speak of.
"What the $!@#! is wrong with you?"
She shrugged. "Many things, I've been told. In regards to this situation? Like I said, I have a reputation to uphold. You set this up to look like a rape. No one here has taken advantage of me yet, unless I let them. If you want anyone to believe you were able too, then we'd both better look the part. Simple rope burns aren't going to do it. Next time you want to talk, try setting up something less complicated."
She shot him a one-sided grin and winked. "Offer's still open to make it a one-hit shot. I won't dodge. Then all you have to say to make it plausible is that I was unconscious. If you want to add the rope on top of that, be my guest. Otherwise....." She raised her hand, spread fingers ready to attempt another strike at his face.
"Yeah. Gotta tell you, that wasn't exactly high on my list of things to do to begin with. Is he gonna turn up dead, contagious, or just uncomfortable?"
Neena's grin took on a slightly vicious air. "If all goes well, extremely uncomfortable, and possibly contagious. Death isn't fun enough."
"How about we split the difference with rope burns? Probably won't hurt as much, and tells pretty much the same story."
She eyed the roped skeptically, then Doug. For a moment she didn't say anything.
"Well, you were the one concerned about appearances. So I'm assuming you want to make this look good. And I've got a reputation to uphold, so.... my apologies."
In a swift motion she brought one hand up and slashed at his face with her nails, carefully avoiding his eyes.
