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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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.
On his first trip into the world-renowned New York City, Noah couldn't help but thinking that travelling wasn't all that bad. Sure, being able to flash around the urban landscape definitely eased up on the pedestrian pains and gave him one heck of a view, but those were minor details, right? Anyone else looking over the edge of a fifty-story skyscraper might be inclined to disagree. Closing his eyes, Noah's nostrils flared as he inhaled a deep breath of the brisk air and almost lost track of his surroundings. At such a height even the faintest of breezes felt like a biting frigid gust, and the mutant caught himself subconsciously swaying along with the wind. Opening his eyes with a glance down to the oblivious din of city life below him, Noah couldn't help but smirk at the irony. Despite being in one of the most heavily populated cities in the Northern Hemisphere, there could still be moments of respite.
Still, Noah was cheating his tourist experience. When in Rome, do as the Romans do; The average person couldn't get to the top of a building on a whim. (Sure they could get down from the top almost as fast as he could, but that wouldn't be a pretty scene, would it?) So, what would a normal human do for some peaceful scenery in the Big Apple? Throughout the entirety of the concrete and clamor below him, one thing stood out with striking ease: the vivid green foliage of Central Park. Almost before the thought had finished running through the young man's mind, his body had already shifted out of its physical form into that of pure light, traveled to the corner of a grassy knoll in the park only feet away from a jogging path, and reformed itself. The mutant strolled onto the paved walkway without breaking stride as he enjoyed the refreshing feel of pure sunlight being absorbed into his body.
Coming across a vacant park bench, Mr. Harper took a seat and decided to take in the life of the park along with the light. A jogger in workout clothes absorbed in their mp3's, a mother of two keeping her children from squabbling over a bright yellow balloon, an old man in a fedora idly tossing breadcrumbs to the pigeons; for some reason Noah found the sheer amount of people around the area mildly fascinating. Was it the fact that there were so many people going about their business with little attention to those around them, or was it the possibility that somewhere else within this very park there could be another mutant like himself within the crowds? Clasping his hands together behind his head as he leaned back against the dark backing of the bench and stretched his legs out, Noah stifled a snicker at such a far-fetched idea...
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Shin.
Hated.
Pigeons.
Most notably, New York's own breed of filthy air rat pigeon that was currently making his life a living hell. With the chasing and the pooping and the pecking and the feathers. Oh god, with the feathers. He shifted his submarine sandwich close to his chest as he ducked the frenetic pecking of a pigeon assault.
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhh" WHY WOULDN'T THEY LET HIM ENJOY HIS SANDWICH IN PEACE!?!??
Even in pieces? It was tearful, parting with such a good sandwich. Seriously. And he'd done so good, sharing bits of bread early on that morning, when his uneventful lunch break had began.
Breaking from Full Circle, he'd beat feet to the nearby serenity of Central Park. Because, he thought, 'I haven't eaten a submarine sandwich in the sanctuary of the shade of a tree in quite a long time! This could be great! This could be--" Messy. Very messy. Aurum had been right saying 'lunch breaks at Full Circle are just better...' Gosh. Such wisdom came from where exactly? Though, Shin recalled, hadn't Aurum's last off-site lunch break ended with a unicorns and emergency rooms? Ah, right. Yes. That would explain the origins of boundless wisdom. Stay close to relative safetym where only crazy tourists evading cops and their own paranoia could touch you.
But, back to the story and out of mindless reverie. Shin was being pecked to death by pigeons. Yes. And he was running like a madman through Central Park, towards a park bench where some nice gentleman or other was reading a newspaper. Also, yes. And the teeny boppper was roller skating by on the sidewalk, and he was running past them, and she turned to look at him, burst out laughing, and... rolled right into the bulk of a trash can, then fell in.
Okay.
That was fine. Really, all of it was fine. And HE'd BE FINE! If only he could get into the shade of one of those lovely trees near a bench, and dismiss these pigeons with a razor sharp storm.
Right?
... RIGHT!?
............ Some things in life are never simple 'right' or 'wrong's. For everything else, there's falling mongoose.
Anthony was enjoying his afternoon. He was in the lower branches of a tree, enjoying the relative quiet. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, people were popping out of nowhere. All of this was perfectly normal for central park. Rather, not the popping out of nowhere part. The man who’d just popped out of nowhere seemed to walk into a shadow without moving. Or, rather, now he looked normal? This bears closer examination.
Anthony took a final bite out of the apple, and rested in a crook above him, and was just wondering about how to get down easily, when he saw it. Like something out of a classic horror movie. The man was running and dodging birds, and carrying a sandwich. Anthony would have laughed, except that pigeons are not ground critters. They are air critters. And he was in their airspace. The advance scout pigeons were now swooping around, and trying to get back towards the food. And then more pigeons. The bedamned birds were everywhere. Anthony tried to move, and instead found himself without a leg to stand on. Up and out…
And right onto the the running man. Anthony found himself face to face with the man. He got an impression of asian, then continued gravities natural process. Head to chest, head to… legs, knees.
Like a sack of potatoes, he landed on the man.
The man spread akimbo, on his back, sandwich was stuck between them, smashed against their shirts. Anthony groaned and rolled off of the man. In a flash, the birds had picked them both clean of the sandwich bread and meats. Condiments remained. The birds, sated, preceded to perch about, stealing Anthony’s apple out of the tree, and generally causing pigeon mischief, but the largest, hungriest threat was averted.
By chance, they were scant feat from the bench, squarely in front of it.
Sure, sightseeing as a tourist might leave many things that could be seen as strange or unusual within the Big Apple. The occasional man on a tirade about the end of the world, people dressed in light-up outfits, and countless other random oddities.. but really? A furry flying out of a tree and a coordinated attack squadron of pirate pigeons stealing an asian guy's lunch right in front of his feet; Noah knew he wasn't on any drugs, but this still seemed a little trippy.
Leaning forward from his position, the mutant rested his elbows on his knees as he tried to inspect the two people before him. It was a little hard to do through the cloud of flapping wings and hurried cooing, but after several moments the birds flew off as randomly as the had come. They left behind a jumbled mess of smeared mustard around the two strangers, with vivid yellow footprints where the birds had been hopping about to pick up the crumbs of the lunch.
Upon closer investigation neither of the two young men before him seemed to have taken any massive damage from the incident, but at least one of the two people in front of him stood out as a possible mutant. The fur on his body seemed too integrated to be a costume, noticeably where it seemed to meld into his normal hair. And besides, the guy had just fallen out of a tree.. maybe he had some sort of squirrel powers? The man that had cushioned his blow, however, looked relatively normal in comparison... pigeon smorgasbord excluded. Noah didn't bother attempting to help either one of them up, instead simply scratching the side of his head for a brief moment as he tried to keep an eye on the avian attackers. If they decided to come back, he might just flash out of their way.
"You two okay? Looks like you're lucky those birds didn't try to carry you off with them."
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THUD!
Four letters. Thus was spelled the fate of one ham sandwich. Yet, another ham remained in its place. Shin eyed the furry face, caught the impression of ears, dark brown eyes that... no wait. He was close enough now. Red. The furred fellow fell off him and got to his feet. Shin followed suit, with a furrowed brow.
"Ugh, my head." He staggered. Eyes fell to his work shirt, his... sandwich.
Correction: Their sandwich, now.
Pecked clean, Shin sighed. "I SHOULD OF ORDERED TURKEY, YOU WINGED CANNIBALS!!" Watch him shake his fist in their direction and scream. Yeah. That'd show 'em.
He looked down at the mustard and mayo all over his shirt. "What a spread... er... hi." Shin suddenly realized he wasn't entirely alone in his thoughts. Another man. The furred man. He was still there. "Still saucy as ever, I presume."
>>"You two okay? Looks like you're lucky those birds didn't try to carry you off with them."
Shin spun on the new voice. Nearly jumped out of his skin. "Yeah, hey."
Posted by arrowatch on Nov 4, 2009 23:13:48 GMT -6
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Anthony started to sit up, and thought better of it. His head hurt. His neck hurt, and his pigeon hurt. Pigeon?
Anthony sat up and pulled a pigeon out of his shirt. It was a plain grey/green/purple pigeon, and it was as flustered as Anthony, though probably not as flustered as the man who just got landed on.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just fine. And so is my new friend here." Anthony lay down with a thud, and stared at the man-who-appears on the bench, while petting the mildly irate pigeon. "I shall name him Dilbert. Sorry about the sandwich. It looked really good. Didn't feel so good, now that I think about it. Oh, and interesting point of fact. He" Anthony pointed at the only clean person there "wasn't there a few moments ago. He, like, popped outta nowhere. Like a herald of the pigeons. I say we burn him as a witch." Anthony's head was swimming. It wasn't everyday he fell out of a tree onto his head, and he was feeling pretty giddy at the moment. He hoped it would pass.
By now, Noah had shaken off any sort of shell-shock over the bizarre entrance of the two young men. Didn't change the fact that it looked like some horrible outtake from an Alfred Hitchcock spoof, but at least it was humorous. A wide grin spread across the mutant's face as both of the strangers came around from their collision, and he nodded curtly to them in turn. While the first tossed some heated words at the birds, the second actually had a hold of one and named it Dilbert. Whether 'Dilbert' was happy with his current situation or would feel better pecking his captor's eyes out, Noah couldn't quite tell (but was certainly looking forward to finding out).
As the furred man proclaimed Noah herald of the pigeons, he couldn't help but laugh out loud. Normally he'd just go on about his way, but this was just too priceless to pass up. Rising to his feet, the young man crossed his arms across his chest, looking down at them with a mock grin before speaking up in as deep a voice as he could maintain without laughing.
"Well met, wayward adventurers.. I am Noah, Herald of the Pigeons. It seems you have failed your first trial, but lay a finger on me and my feathered friends shall flock you up." As he said the words, the mutant did his best job overlaying the image of mottled feathers over his body with a scowling beak on his face, flickering it several times before dropping the guise.
Reverting to a more casual tone of speech, Noah extended a hand out to help either one of the two strangers up from their faceplant, casting an impish grin towards the one holding the pigeon. "Besides, didn't you pop out of nowhere too, furball?"
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So, everyone was fine!! Nervous laughter welled in Shin's gut at the revelation. Yes. Because everyone would be fine. Gone are pigeons, gone are problems, gone are...
>>"...Dilbert. Sorry about the sandwich..."
Shin turned to share a blank face with the furred friend holding a feathered one. He scratched the back of his neck, at a loss for words, then settled on "... Er... eh?"
Were 'er' and 'eh' words? Shin wasn't certain. "Shouldn't you... get rid... of the flying assassin before it decides to kill you and seek revenge?" Shin grimaced. The grimace shifted to a weak smile as he passed everything off as a joke. "Eheh~"
And, uh... he followed the furred man's accusing finger point straight towards the guy from the bench who'd wanted to know their health status. Shin blinked, and shifting his shoulders up in the mimic of a shrug that was, for the most part done to pop a crick out of his neck. Witches? Appearing out of nowhere? Not really witch territory... oh, but the kid with the ears was joking. Shin was certain of it. Wrong tone for 'serious'. Going on 'giddy'.
"Herald of pigeons..." Shin repeated slowly. A thought seemed to light up the back of his eyes. "I like it! Hey, is your name Harold?" Haaa roooru doooo. Harudo. He rolled the name over a few times in his head to confirm the pleasing sound a 'certainty'.
>>"Well met, wayward adventurers.. I am Noah, Herald of the Pigeons. It seems you have failed your first trial, but lay a finger on me and my feathered friends shall flock you up."
Awe, Noah. Not Harold. "I'm a little disappointed, Noah. Your name really should be Harold. Nice trick with the image, though. Illusionist?"
Shin was already on his feet. He didn't know what to make of this scene. First, he'd been angry and scared, now laughing. Definitely laughing. Okay. He'd go with having a sense of humor. Shin tilted his head.
Posted by arrowatch on Nov 6, 2009 16:29:37 GMT -6
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Anthony sat upright in shock when confronted by a giant pigeon. It flickered a couple of times and returned to the man, who said his name was Noah.
"Well, I am Anthony, Crouching Mongoose-Hidden Dragon. I have a hostage." Anthony scratched Dilbert's neck, who was calming down, and slowly stood up. "Nice to meet you, Herodu. Er, Noah." Anthony was light headed and smiled, little pointed herpestidae teeth, which caused the pigeon to panic again.
Noah looked between his two new acquaintances as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets. It was becoming obvious that each of them were fairly comfortable around mutants; were both of them mutants as well, or had the normal-looking one just been around them often enough living in such a densely populated area? Regardless, it was refreshing to be a stranger somewhere and not have to worry about people's perceptions. Sure, Noah had never had any problem revealing his mutation to close friends and family back home, but he wasn't necessarily sticking out like a sore thumb, either... and in the South, those that did usually ended up ostracized to the point that they eventually snapped or moved away. But here? Nobody really knew him and he could pretty much do as he liked.
The young man snickered at the introduction of Anthony the Mongoose and his hostage pigeon. He remembered the movie having a lot of fighting through trees, but never any falling on top of people. "Nice to meet you Anthony. But for the record, the pigeons aren't really mine."
Noah turned his gaze towards the one without any fur, who had inquired about his abilities as if he had experience being around them. "Sorry to disappoint that I'm not Harold. And I guess you could say I'm something like an illusionist, but I'm not quite sure that would be the right word..", the mutant said, his words trailing off as he heaved his shoulders into a resigned shrug. Midway through the gesture, Noah's body blinked out of sight, reforming across the path behind the two pigeon-pals. "By the way, I don't think I caught your name.."
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Anthony. The mongoose-man with the pigeon in-hand was named Anthony. Shin filed that away in his mind under 'important'. Though really, he'd have assigned a different name to the goose boy. Like 'he-who-falls-from-trees', or... no. Anthony was a good name. Shin was fine with that. Less thinking about renaming people from him.
He took a step forward to wag a finger at the pigeon in Anthony's hand, mouth forming into a devilish smirk. "It looks like someone's a hostage now. Not looking so tough, are we--- ow!" The little birdy pecked him! Shin shook his finger, staving off tears. "Little monster... Dilbert, you need a cubible, ASAP."
His tear-filled eyes rose towards the other man, Noah, as he spoke some words.
>>"Sorry to disappoint that I'm not Harold. And I guess you could say I'm something like an illusionist, but I'm not quite sure that would be the right word.."
Words... The boy's shoulders slumped as he spoke them, and decided actions were greater than the sum of the parts of his sentence... then vanished in a blink of light. Shin hopped back a half-step in shock as Noah appeared once more, between them both. He caught Shin's eye, and asked, quite politely actually, for one who'd just invaded Shin's personal bubble,
>>"By the way, I don't think I caught your name.."
"Please, call me Shin..." Shin managed to squeak out as his right arm lowered to a less-defensive posture. In fact, it moved ahead of him to strike out in the hopes of a shake. Shock-face was replaced by smile. "Pleased to meet you."
Anthony, in general, was not a deep man. He had a fondness for The Drink. He had a fondness for leisurely athletic pursuits. But, what he had never known, was that he was fond of birds. Being a man of few talents, Anthony did his best to psychically channel Dilbert. Failing that, he improvised.
It's interesting. These homo sapiens are amazingly dense creatures. If it weren't for their propensity for making delcious food, so that us fair birds need not, and then feeding it to us without expectation of recompense... What? What do you want, sammich boy? I don't like your tone. I don't like your finger. I said I don't like- [/color] Anthony hadn't been paying attention, and Dilbert bit the other man, who's accent marked him as Japanese. Anthony repressed a snicker as "Little monster... Dilbert, you need a cubible, ASAP." came out of the Japanese man's unhappy mouth.
Anthony tucked the pigeon a little closer to his chest, almost in the crook of his arm. If his shirt hand been tucked in, or had Anthony had the foresight to bring his bag, he probably would have placed Dilbert in either place.
Anthony took a step or two, and listened to Noah. It's an odd thing, really. How could one be both and illusionist, and not an illusionist? Hadn't he hidden from sight earlier? Practical demonstrations, as always, were sufficient.
Noah ceased to exist, and was suddenly quite closer. There was no noise, which ruled out a few things, nor distortion which ruled out a few more. He queried the other man about his name. Shin. Good name. Accent and name placed him squarely in the catagory of Japanese.
"A man who can appear as something he's not, and move from place to place instantly. You might be Psychic, warping our perceptions and trapping our minds to seemingly teleport. You might bend Time, though for the life of me I'm not sure how that relates to images of giant pigeons." Anthony glanced at Dilbert. "Unless pigeons were once the size of dinosaurs. If that is the case, then maybe he has us hostage."
Anthony looked to Shin. He suddenly realized something. "What in the blue blazes is a cubible?!"
Never a dull moment in the busy city. Not even five minutes ago, Noah had been atop a skyscraper blowing in the wind; now he had become acquainted with two very intriguing individuals over a sub sandwich, a pigeon named Dilbert, and an interesting set of circumstances in the middle of Central Park. Was it fate, plotting pigeons, or dumb luck? Regardless, the mutant was thoroughly enjoying interacting with people who were 'like' him, especially since he got to play around with his abilities without fear of consequence. Come to think of it, Anthony was the first mutant he'd ever met in person. Oh, the joys of never bothering with a plan in life...
Noah hadn't quite caught what had happened between Dilbert and 'Shin', as he had found his name to be, but the aftermath was quite apparent. The pet pigeon must have stung deep into one of the young man's extremities judging by the welling tears in his eyes and the recoiled action of his hand; apparently the bird was expressing his personal space boundaries while Noah was ignorantly intruding into Shin's. And yet, his Asian acquaintance extended out his hand again in greetings. Noah accepted the gesture with a light shake, uncertain if it was the same hand that had received a pigeon peck. While doing so the young man slid back out to arm's length, suddenly realizing the paralleling situations with a suppressed smile. "Likewise Shin, a pleasure."
Releasing his weak grip of Shin's hand, the mutant cast a sidelong glance to Anthony, who still seemed to be wrapped up in Noah's game. It was like playing some super-power edition of charades at a party..minus being in the living room with alcohol. Still, there was no harm in playing along with the Mongoose's well-educated guessing, as well as the interjection about a cubible. Copping the best haughty English accent he could muster, Noah winked towards Anthony, "Brilliant deductions, Watson. You may indeed be onto something about those pigeons, chap. Barmy birds are dodgier 'an we give 'em credit for, I do very well believe.." without missing a beat, the mutant angled his open hand over his mouth, leaning in closer to his furred friend and speaking in a hushed tone, "and I say, hold it down! Methinks 'twas Shin here's accent. Poor chap, per'aps he's under the impression your dear Dilbert needs a cubicle."
Straightening back up to his normal posture, Noah looked from Anthony to Shin and chuckled for a brief moment before speaking with his normal, Southern-tinged accent "So, do you two want to get a bite to eat, or do you prefer wearing your lunch as overcoats instead?"
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Shin finished the handshake with a nod, then glanced at the goose-boy.
>>"A man who can appear as something he's not, and move from place to place instantly. You might be Psychic, warping our perceptions and trapping our minds to seemingly teleport. You might bend Time, though for the life of me I'm not sure how that relates to images of giant pigeons."
"Strange hypothesis doesn't fit. If he bent time and space, he'd be talking about waffles and great Scots more often." Shin deadpanned. It was pretty obvious it wasn't time travel or teleportation. Images like that didn't quite work with time travel... unless he'd paused time, went around their backs, put on a mask, and spooked them. But that would be too much work for one guy, and if he'd done that, the least he could have done was draw funny pictures on each of their faces. No. His power was too familiar... to similar to something he dealt with nearly every day.
>>"Brilliant deductions, Watson. You may indeed be onto something about those pigeons, chap. Barmy birds are dodgier 'an we give 'em credit for, I do very well believe.. and I say, hold it down! Methinks 'twas Shin here's accent. Poor chap, per'aps he's under the impression your dear Dilbert needs a cubicle."
>>"What in the blue blazes is a cubible?!"
"A little blue box. Or more likely, gray. If it were little and blue and a box, that'd be what real time travelers used. This guy... holograms, right?" Shin crossed his arms, and bore a look of earnest curiosity.
Because the danger room used holograms, and light imagery was an interesting feat that fascinated Shin... while it didn't quite sync with the 'be one place, then another' thing... Shin fathomed light speed travel was always a possibility. Hrm. Strange.
>>"So, do you two want to get a bite to eat, or do you prefer wearing your lunch as overcoats instead?"
"The potential for a quick lunch before my lunch hour ends is tempting..."
Posted by arrowatch on Nov 10, 2009 23:24:36 GMT -6
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Anthony wasn't particularly hungry, but he really had nothing better to do. Anthony stretched and rubbed his neck with his right arm, the left one being taken up with holding a pigeon. His neck was a little sore, but he was feeling better. A better look was required, now, of his soon to be dining partners.
Noah wasn't the most handsome person in the world, but he wasn't unpleasant. His dressing style was in aesthetic harmony with himself. Shin, as well, harmonized well with his chosen wardrobe. Except for the slowly drying mess on his shirt. That would drive him insane. Anthony's glance at his own front was also disconcerting. Though if it weren't for the stains and Dilbert, you never would have guessed that there had been an incident.
"Perhaps, while we walk, we can keep an eye open for shirts for sale? I'd rather look like a tourist then an idiot." Anthony gestured at both Shin's and his own smears. Very unpleasant.
