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.
“Speaking of Shya, I also collected a load of laundry from the grave yard. I don’t think I can repair on of the shirts though. Too many holes.”
"I'll take care of it then." Neena nodded.
“Emerald. But Neena talked to her, not me.”
"Em's okay," Neena replied quickly, and smiled to be sure he knew she was telling the truth. "Nothing a little painkillers and time won't cure." Beatings were common these days. She didn't think Shield needed details just yet.
Bits of the guards' conversation reached her ears. Of interest was their feelings about Rupert. Apparently the man wasn't popular with mutants or humans alike. She hadn't actually had a chance to interact with the Camp warden, so she didn't have a firm opinion yet.
The conversation ended and Doug returned. Though she was still folding, she didn't miss the covert drop into the box he pushed at Shield.
"Long as you're here, make yourself useful, willya?"
Neena pushed herself to her feet again, and put half of her stack on the shelves, humming quietly to herself. Anything to prolong her stay and satisfy her curiosity.
"And here comes reason number nine, another friend," Neena added as Shield appeared, with a bit more grace then the ladies had. She enjoyed the slightly puzzled look her 'list' received.
“Hi girls, how are things?”
Neena replied to, while listening with satisfaction to Doug chew on James rear a bit. "Eh, about the same. The usual knockabouts and such." In other words, just before Shrapnel had vacated, she had refilled her stashes of 'misplaced' medical supplies. "Made a delivery to the kitchen, unfortunately. You know that woman has a temper hotter than a volcano?" Otherwise known as a food raid, with a few spices liberated. It was amazing how dull food could be without salt. Plus she had plans for the habanero powder.....
"How's things with you?" She resumed her folding, still listening to Doug's colorful conversation.
"Still workin' here." Neena resisted the urge to say 'I'm sorry for you', as that might have gotten her a bruise or more. Instead she kept smiling and folding.
"So how come you're so cheerful, anyway?"
Neena paused and looked up at the man. That was the most he'd ever said at once, and the first actual question. It made her stop and think for a moment.
Then, "Well, let's see...." She began counting points on her fingers. "I'm alive and walking, if a bit clumsily. I can still see, though that may or may not change within the next month or so. I haven't been hit in over twenty-four hours. I've gone to Isolation twice this week, so I'm only three weeks behind in my sleep now. Um.... I'm losing weight. I hear most women consider that a good thing." She paused again, then grinned and added, "Oh! And I haven't broken any nails yet today."
She chuckled and resumed her folding, observing his reaction covertly.
She heard a sharp noise behind Doug, from outside. A few moments later Dough was shoved out of his position, and in tumbled Sara, right over Neena and her clothes.
After a moment she announced cheerily, "And now my friend has joined me. That's makes eight positive items for my list today." She rolled to her hands and knees, then stood to help Sara up. She dutifully ignored the Skinny, Spineless Jerk at the door.
"Why thank you Mister Doug." Neena replied as the chair was scooted her way. But rather than get up and sit in it, she used it to start a secondary laundry stack, remaining sitting on the floor.
She grinned at the guard. Up until that point he hadn't disuaded her from calling him by name. Many of the guards seemed to take offense at the 'freaks' calling them by name, and made it clear through force; the mustached man had just grunted and ignored her. So she continued.
"So how are you this fine mornin'?"
Neena squinted at him slightly; her near-white eyes had been growing a bit fuzzy lately, from the sunlight, and her dark skin was even darker under her lids. She was tired, but not weary. Her spirit wasn't broken yet.
Neena entered the room. Backwards. It wasn't because she was eccentric, though she was, and it wasn't out of some strange ritual submission either. It was a solution borne of necessity.
Her arms were piled high with camp 'uniforms'. According to camp policy, the shapeless gray garments issues to the inmates were recyclable; whenever an inmate's stay was 'terminated', their uniforms were sent to Neena and Sara in the Laundry, cleaned, dried, and reissued from the Customs office. When delivery duty fell to Neena, she carried the pile to the Office. However, the pile needed two arms to carry, and the door needed one arm to open. As she only had two hands available, and her guard escort was less than helpful, a little creativity was needed.
Thus the 'lean-against-the-door-twist-the-knob-push-it-open-with-your-butt-and -hope-you-don't-trip-and-fall-on-your-rear' maneuver was born.
It didn't always work. Like.... today....
As Neena scooted in, the garment on the top of the pile caught on the door. She tried to catch it, which resulted in the pile toppling to the floor, followed quite quickly by the dark-skinned woman. Her escort rolled his eyes; the show had grown dull to him very early on. Instead he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and stood outside smoking, confident it would take her at least fifteen minutes or more to refold the clothing.
Neena sat up and grumbled. "I hate laundry...." Staying seated where she'd fallen, she reached out and began folding again.
"Yeah, that’s fine. Let me know who and what you need, I’ll make it happen. Management frowns on guards out of uniform, and it beats trying to pour seven feet, eight-and-a-half-plus-or-minus-three-and-a-half inches of scaly red into a six-foot suit."
"Mmhmm." Neena paused to think for a moment, then decided to leave the deep thinking for the night, when she could devote her sleeplessness to it.
"Well, a measuring tape or string for one. Whatever material the uniforms are made out of, and some scissors. I suppose it would be too much to ask for a sewing machine?" Well, the worse they could say was 'no', right? She rattled off a list of other supplies, then looked around. "And a place to work. Laundry shack's too small. Mess Hall maybe? Anything else?" she asked Sara.
"Honestly? No. But if they don’t, nobody does, so it’s the place to try first."
Neena turned fully to look this time, curiosity kicking in in full.
Doug glanced at her and Sara. "So, believe it or not, Big Red here is a new guard… just signed the ink twenty minutes ago. I can tell he’s a guard, despite the wings, because he didn’t fall down when he walked into my station."
Neena tilted her head down to look over the top of her glasses. A guard, eh?
"So of course bureaucracy in its infinite wisdom decided he needs a uniform, and it turns out they don’t have anything sized to fit eight foot tall winged lizards. Can’t imagine why."
Neena snorted. Yeah, imagine that....
"Anyway, I ain’t got a clue how to fit him, but I thought maybe you clever ladies might have some suggestions?"
Clever ladies??
Neena settled her glance on Doug. Yes, something was definitely up. For one thing, the guards never explained anything to the inmates, unless the explanation involved either mental confusion or torture, that would in turn provide entertainment. And for another, since when did Doug have a sense of humor?
She turned her gaze to the new guard. Well, there was at least one other mutant guard, possibly more, that she knew of. But Bloodfang could pass for human. Usually. When his dementedness didn't shine through. And when he wasn't manipulating people's blood.....
Yeah.... Okay so 'pass' was a relative term. Still, his mutation was as obvious as this new mutant's was. So what had he done, or not done, to be allowed to be a guard, rather than a resident?
Neena stood, and placed her hands on her hips, sighing dramatically. "Sorry, kiddo, but I can tell ya for sure there's nothing even remotely in your size. But I suppose, if I had the materials, I could make something. I can sew, I guess...."
She frowned, as if the idea was highly distasteful. In actuality, she rather enjoyed it. Part of growing up as a Masaai woman involved learning to to make clothes for the family, plus she had learned how to bead, so her fingers were nimble with needles and thread. Of course, that was nearly two decades ago....
The frown had come from learning how to use reverse psychology on the camp guards. Some of them were amazingly dim, including her current escort. She glanced at Doug, then at Sara. "Might take awhile though.... And I'd need help," she added.
Silence oversaw the women's work for a short time. During that interval, Neena's mind began to wander. Considering her thoughts were as varied as the stars in the night sky, the result might have resembled playing 'connect the dots'. Except that the dot only vaguely connected.....
As usual, the thought of death immediately drew her to her mother. What had been going through her mind at the time of death? Okay, so it was a rather morbid question, and one that might have drawn some awkward looks had she asked it aloud. However, time and events in the camps had made her think of the concept in depth.
<"In depth.... How deep was the laundry lake anyway? It hadn't taken long for it to grow cloudy, so either it was very shallow, or had no inlet/outlet point. Just a giant puddle then? How many snowflakes would it take to melt and fill the lake, if it ever dried up?
<"I need to get another bag balm tin soon. My lips are getting dry, and the tin's low.
<"Hmm.... haven't played a decent game of limbo in a long time. I wonder if of the other girls have?
<"Limbo.... lobo.... Huh, I haven't seen Emerald lately. I wonder if she's cracked yet? Thinking of which, I wonder if they'll fix that crack in the Barracks roof before spring....>"
Wandering in a maze would be easier than wandering through Neena's mind, unless you simply determined to be lost for eternity.
The sounds of footsteps approached. Neena glanced up to look at the newcomers. From the looks of it, Doug was leading over another inmate, a dragonman. That was unusual; Neena had thought the men had their own laundry pool. Perhaps they thought the girls were so far behind that they needed help.
"Incoming," she warned Sara under her breath, though the girl most likely heard them before she did.
"Someone cookin somethin spicy? Thought you took me to the Laundry place..."
Neena resisted the urge to snicker, but couldn't completely hide the grin. "Oops! Busted," she murmured.
Neena sniffed dramatically, and tears flowed from behind the glasses. She frowned, but the amusement in her voice couldn't be hidden.
"Tons. Especially with imagining the consequences." She was careful not to touch her eyes; her hands were already on fire from her liberal use of powder. The ice cold water was a blessing right at that moment. When Sara sneezed, Neena apologized. "Sorry. I'll be sure to take a thorough shower before bed."
Behind her, she heard the guards snickering. Her frown failed, turning into a rather evil grin.
(OOC: Let me know if I over godmodded James. But I figured it fit into his character. )
“On the off chance I do get sent to Gwendolyn, please remind her about my resistance to drugs and painkillers.”
Neena tilted her head to look at Sara over her glasses.
"On the off chance you get sent to Gwendolyn, and not to Shya, I'll be happy enough to actually do that," she scolded slightly, but smiled to let the girl know she understood. Sara's bracelet gave her enough trouble as it was; she didn't need anyone to help it along further.
"Be right back," she announced a moment later, and headed inside with a load of dried clothes to fold.
Inside the building, the security cameras watched every move of its occupants. As Neena set down her load, she shivered. The chilly weather and icy water made her feel like an icicle. There were several sleeved shirt hanging on the wall. She grabbed one and slipped into it, but tripped off balance and banged into one of the shelves, dislodging a container of orange-ish colored soap powder. The bottle top popped off on impact with the counter, spilling its contents everywhere. Almost immediately she began sneezing.
Cursing quietly under her breathe, and in between sneezes, she began cleaning up her mess. She swept up her mess, replaced what was left of the bottle, reaching behind the shelf to retrieve the lid. It took a moment to reach something else from behind the shelf, which she slipped into her sleeve. She pulled her arm out, holding the bottle top, and replaced it on the shelf.
She went back to folding the still-damp clothing, most of which belonged to the guards. Every now and then she would sneeze violently, seemingly from the soap powder. An especially hard fit overtook her in the middle of folding underwear and boxers. She made a disgusted face as she held up somebody's G-string.
"Oh, for the love of...! Ugh! " She glanced at the rest of the load she was folding.
James. She should have known.... Honestly, there was something wrong with that man's head.
Neena decided his sexual libido needed to be distracted for a while. She dropped the damp undergarment and shook her hand, as if disgusted, a reaction that wasn't entirely feigned. Abruptly she inhaled deeply, and sneezed hard enough to make her backpedal. A small cloud of dust puffed out, and settled over the underwear, and several other garments belonging to James. Neena shook her head and settled an overly disgusted expression on her face for the cameras.
The back of her mind, however, was mulling over how much Habanero Pepper powder looked like the orangy-ish soap powder.....
She was still considering the thought, and sneezing, when she returned to the poolside twenty minutes later.
(OOC: For those of you who don't know what a habanero is, check out this scale, near the bottom, and compare it to a jalepeno, or even a banana pepper. Now imagine the ground powder mixing with the moisture in slightly damp clothes, and remember that pepper water/acid can soak into your skin and mix into your sweat glands, all with just the barest contact.
Then remember, that the word 'evil' is purely a relative term..... hehehe....)
“Just out of curiosity what will you do with that stuff if you don’t know?”
Neena glanced over her glasses at the feline-featured girl. "Until I figure out that 'oddity', nothing." Then she added. "Do me a favor. Don't do anything rash. I don't want to read your name on Shya's list. It's already too long."
At that last remark, sadness crept into Neena's voice. The tone was out of character for the dark-skinned mutant. But she had been waking from more and more dreams about her brother over the last week or so. It wasn't fear that kept her awake. Nor was she losing hope of being free of the Camps once more, despite having accepted the fact that she and the others may never be free again. Acceptance and hope were two totally different things; sometimes acceptance made hope easier to feel.
What saddened her was seeing the hope fade in others. Life without fear was a dull enough existence. She couldn't imagine a life without hope. She didn't want to imagine. Perhaps that was why she kept dreaming of Kwasi. Perhaps.... he was reminding her that she could still feel. Sadness, hope, anger..... she still felt them all.
That meant she was still alive. She wasn't on Shya's list yet. And maybe, just maybe, through her example, others would stay off the List as well.
She turned and smiled at Sara, then reimmersed herself in the frigid water with renewed vigor.
“Look, you don’t know what stuff I’ve lived through eating before. If it is something that will be a problem right away, We’ll know.”
Neena frowned slightly. "I'd rather you didn't put yourself in possible danger, just to find out whether it is dangerous or not. If knowing one way or the other is going to put you in harm's way, I don't feel it's worth it." She spoke the words as a friend, but the decision was ultimately Sara's.
“How close do you think we should let this one get? And just where will you keep that till we know what ever he gave is safe.”
Neena was silent for a moment, contemplating the question. She went over in her mind her actions over the past two months, and those of the others she knew of, those who had been either plotting for future escapes, or longer survival in the Camp confines. Up until Shrapnel and Jason's escape, she didn't think anything had been given away, other than a few pranks here and there. Since the Escape the guards and Stalkers had been more attentive, so she had slowed her own activities down a notch, but she wasn't sure of others. If supplies were being noticed missing, it was very highly possible that Doug was attempting to catch someone red-handed. There had been quite a few deaths resulting from abuse and beatings, but no outright executions just yet. Yet.
On the other hand, to refuse help simply because of dislike of the source would be foolish.
Neena sighed. In answer to both questions, she replied, "I'm not sure. Sad thing is, sometimes you don't know something is lethal 'till it kills ya. But then scientists would be out of a job." Random sounding, perhaps. But that was Neena.
She stood and took a wet load to the mangle, her expression thoughtful.
“I know there’s some sort of food in that package he slipped you. There’s a few other things as well but I can’t put my finger on them. Must be sealed better.”
"Mmm. I'll take a closer look tonight."
“I know. Last I delivered one of your gifts I learned real fast to breath through my mouth. Convinced James I was allergic to him.”
Neena stifled a laugh behind a cough and sneeze. Her first experiment, using vinegar, had definitely been interesting, for quite a few people. Interestingly enough, it had done a fantastic cleaning job on the side.....
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