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.
It was dark, most of the lights were out due to the construction that had been abandoned over a year ago. It was sad really, such a beautiful place existed and it was mostly forgotten to those who passed by. Only a glimpse was given and it hardly did it justice. It wasn’t run down or broken, just forgotten in the big city and it was Carrick’s new favorite hiding place that in a way reminded him of home.
It was quite as well the occasional sound of the wind passing through and hitting some of the chimes that were left out near the cracked windows rung out and echoed ever so often. The sound of cars could be heard outside, but it was dulled and often silent, birds every so often traveled to this place of worship to avoid a storm and often set up a nest near the roof. Yet despite the peace and quite it reminded him of home.
Carrick couldn’t exactly explain why but mismatched eyes looked out towards a darkened stain glass picture of a man on a cross and a dozen figures or so gathered around him raising their hands. The man on the cross-had sad eyes and it made Carrick a little uneasy sometimes, like the eyes knew when he had done something wrong. Judgmental eyes stared back at the winged mutant who was sitting high above the pews in the rafters.
The young thief’s hand reached up and touched the coin that a flower had made for him. One that bared his family crest, a cross and a shamrock interwoven together on both sides, silently the thief prayed twisting the metal work around his neck his eyes touched close. Humming a song quietly before he started to sing he prayed health for his family and friends. Often he didn’t reveal he was indeed religious but if those who knew him well enough would catch the occasional stop by a church. He may not have entered a church but of all the buildings to land on in New York City there were a few that stood out as churches.
After a few moments he turned his back to a wooden beam supporting the roof and swung his leg down to the side as he pulled an apple out of his flannel pocket and took a bite. An ear bud hung low near his necklace while the other played the song he was singing to himself and the occasional bird that flew by. ”I can’t stand to fly, I’m not that naïve, I’m just out to find the better part of me… I’m more than a bird, I’m more than a plane, I’m more than some pretty face beside a train and it’s not easy to be me…”
The sound of birds fluttering below distracted him and he turned his to the doors that had been pushed open. He looked down and took another bite of his apple as a lions tail swung on the opposite side of the cross beam of his leg.
Ugh! Rain. Why did it have to be rain? Couldn't a girl go out for a stroll, maybe some casual murder and mayhem, without getting rained on before she'd even started to have fun? Bah! Stupid friggin' sky and it's stupid friggin' rain.
Normally rain wasn't such a big issue except that it made her hair fizz a little bit as it dried and it got her bow all soggy. However, with her new choice in a subtler set of clothing options, there was another issue added to the small list. Namely that her choice in shirts was white, a rather unfortunate choice wherever water was involved.
The shelter she decided to duck into was some sort of run down looking building that looked like no one had set foot in it for years. That was the factor that had decided it for her. If she tried to duck into a nearby shop or apartment building she'd either be hoisted out within minutes or had the cops called on her even sooner once someone recognized who she was. An old abandoned building would be much quieter and would afford her some time to herself to relax and enjoy the sound of the rain without having to stand out in it.
As it turned out the building she'd ducked into seemed to be an old church. At least, that's what she could gather from a glance. The big window depicting a guy on a cross was a pretty good clue, as were the pews. She decided she didn't much like that big window with the guy on it. Maybe she'd smash it on her way out and pocket a few of the nicer colors in the bits of glass.
It took a minute before she even noticed the body up in the rafters. She was much too occupied with wringing out her hair and her clothing to pay much attention to the church's interior for a few moments. Once she finally did notice him up there, though, she very quickly fell still.
Seeing someone with wings in a church is a little jarring at first. She wasn't a particularly religious person, but she certainly knew what Angels were and that they were very closely connected to the Church. What she didn't remember reading of being told was of their possession of tails. Those were generally reserved for demons.
She might have been a little more shocked if she believed in such things. However, once the initial surprise wore off, she knew it was just some mutant kid who had wandered into the building as well. So much for being by herself.
Pretending the kid didn't even exist was probably the best thing she could do for the time being. Don't bother him and he won't bother her. That was her logic. And so that's what she did. Giving her hands a little flick to rid them of the excess water, she strolled her way over to the stained glass window and started poking and prodding at the black lines connecting the colored shards. Maybe she could just pry a few pieces out without smashing it.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
A woman was now below wearing a large bow one that Carrick easily spotted due to the greenish tint. The sound of the birds fluttering about started to die down as a few of them landed off to the side near some pews, which were covered in a thick layer of dust and sawdust. No doubt due from the lack of housekeeping and construction. The bushy brown tail that belonged to Carrick twitched back and forth as he continued to chew his food quietly. His peace now disturbed by the woman who was making quite a ruckus, ‘must be her shoes’ thought Carrick quietly to himself.
He wasn’t looking for trouble nor any kind of interaction with the woman who was wearing a white shirt, no doubt the reason she decided to stop here, it was an abandoned church after all, not many would come here looking to pray. Who knows maybe it had sentimental value for the woman.
Off in the distance a thunderhead cracked and some lightning flashed revealing momentary light that shone through the stained glass that first captivated him the second he entered this holy place. The sound of rain started to echo throughout the church, it defiantly strengthen Carrick’s belief as to why she was here. The shifter was young but his older brother had pointed out what white shirts do when they get wet. A little color rushed to his face as he swallowed the bite of the apple.
He continued to watch her, it seemed she was unaware she was being watch because she did something that Carrick didn’t appreciate to much, something that most if not all church goers would prevent. It looked like she was trying to break one of the stained windows. Tail twitching eagerly Carrick cleared his throat and opened his wings hoping to scare the woman off.
When he opened his wings two feathers fell towards the ground. If the woman did have any kind of religious background she would be scared off when she noticed the feathers or him, just to make sure she got the hint Carrick opened his mouth and spoke loudly and clearly, ”Be a shame if the window broke wouldn’t it?” he said his Irish accent echoing in the rafters hoping the displacement of his voice would cause the woman to panic. ”I’ve grown rather found of that window…”
Pft. If this kid thought he was going to intimidate her or something, he was in for a world of disappointment. As she'd previously decided, he was no angel, and was just as likely to be some sort of demon, neither of which she believe in. Just another mutant trying to get out of the rain. One that wasn't going to be scaring her back out into the unfortunate weather.
She didn't even bother turning her attention away from the window when he addressed her. Whatever theatrics he was trying to create were a lost cause. She did note the volume of his voice as it echoed around, as well as the accent, not entirely appreciating how it drowned out the sound of the rain and completely ruined her attempt at finding a quiet place to hole up in for a while.
She admired the way the lightning lit up the building's interior through the stained glass. She was definitely going to be taking some colored shards back to the Sanctuary with her. She'd gotten the idea to make a mobile out of the pieces that would look nice under a light, particularly at night.
"Too bad I don't really care who likes this window," she replied, not bothering to turn around and look at the kid as she addressed him. Instead she stuck a small spike through a smaller section of blue glass and pried it out of the window before sticking it in her pocket. "Some run down old building that no one uses isn't going to miss a little glass."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
She didn’t even flinch let alone turn around it was clear that the woman whoever she was wasn’t one to scare easy nor was she one to listen to direction. The shifter’s face scrunched as he lowered his body and touched down a few feet behind her near a pew hoping if he revealed himself she’d be more open to listen. ”I care!” Carrick said somewhat defensivly as she removed a small shade of blue from the over all picture. One piece was fine but the last thing he wanted was for her to remove more pieces.
He was staring at the back of her head now with mismatched color eyes and his hands clenched up tight, he wasn’t going to attack her. Carrick wasn’t much of a fighter and if his father found out he had struck a woman even if she deserved it…. ”Please…” Carrick said adding a touch of sadness in his tone, ”There are other pieces of glass all around the building from a few of the other windows that were damaged from all of the construction…” he took a step closer passing a small foot stool that he didn’t happen to see.
Letting out a small grunt Carrick found himself face first on the small steps that lead up to where the alter used to be and where the woman currently stood with a section of blue glass in her hand. Letting out a muttering of an Irish curse his father had accidently let slip when he stubbed his toe Carrick managed to push himself up to his knees. ”You can destroy that stool though…” Carrick said looking to the woman as he up righted himself and crossed his legs as he sat down rubbing one of his shins.
"You might care, but I don't. Not about the window and not about your opinion," she replied, moving on to pry a larger piece of yellow glass out of place. She didn't know how long the window had been there, but it was easier to remove the pieces than she'd thought it might be. Perhaps the glue holding it all in place was wearing away. Red one next.
She was very careful when pocketing the pieces she nabbed, noting the unpolished edges that could be problematic if she handled them too roughly. Hopefully they wouldn't create a hole in her pocket while she carried them. She'd have to buff them down before she did anything with them in her room.
She turned her head only slightly as the young man spoke again, his voice sounding much closer to where she stood. He must have abandoned his perch in the rafters in his displeasure with her actions. She gave a sigh and shook her had a bit as he tried to reason with her. She'd already said she didn't care about what he thought, didn't she?
She was moving on to pry a lighter flesh tone from the window when the sound of wood skittering against the stone floor followed by the sound of a body hitting that same stone caught her full attention.
One eyebrow raised curiously as she turned to find the young man sprawled on the steps leading to the altar area. "You'd think someone with such big wings would be used to paying attention to the space around them," she commented, turning around to face him fully, hands on her hips.
"Give me one good reason why I should care about which window you like," she challenged, stepping back a bit to keep away from his avian extremities. "I like it, too. It just so happens that I like it in pieces. And I'm not going to let some little kid tell me what I can and can't take."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Blue, Yellow, and a flesh colored piece of glass now in hand it was sad there was little to do to stop her. Carrick frowned slightly continuously rubbing the spot where his newest bruise would be on his shin. ”You’d think that wouldn’t you?” Carrick said as she turned around giving him some attention, ”Wings are easy it’s the walking thing I don’t exactly have down…. Stupid stool.” Carrick said finishing his statement through gritted teeth as he looked to the stole.
”I wasn’t telling,” Carrick said correcting her before standing up and brushing off his pant legs his tail flailing behind him while his wings opened slightly then tucked themselves tightly behind his back. ”It was more of a request, and it reminds me of back home not here home but home-home. That was what the word please was for, please makes it a request.” Carrick said nodding and looking to the woman then to her hand where a few pieces of glass resided.
”Not a lot of places that remind me of home, the city isn’t the most peaceful place is it?” Carrick asked tilting his head and stepping closer to the woman who had her hands on her hips. His mismatched colors eyes fixed on the multitude of colors before fixing to the places where glass was removed thanks to the woman before him who was challenging his request.
Carrick looked to the woman once more and then spoke, ”What would you do if someone came into your home and started taking breaking something you liked and then stole pieces of it?” he paused and then looked back to the window stepping closer to it placing his hands on the back of his head, ”Doubt you’d like it, doubt anyone would like it.” Carrick said turning his attention to the rest of the church taking in all the dusted over scenery. ”But again, that stool is free game…” Carrick said eyeing the stool that caused him to trip.
Isabel didn't much care that the kid had hurt himself being clumsy. Not the stool's fault he couldn't watch where he was going. And she certainly wasn't going to do him any favors by smashing the thing. Especially when he was trying to get in the way of her newest interest. Carefully she pocketed the additional pieces of glass and returned her hand to her hip.
"I don't care about your manners," she stated, choosing to ignore his bit of smartassery over his use of the word 'please'. She knew very well what he meant, but she also figured he wouldn't just sit back and let her keep picking at the window, thus assuming he was really telling instead of asking. In either case, she wasn't particularly inclined to be cooperative.
She didn't step back when he moved closer. Isabel had never really been one to back down in any situation, and this certainly wouldn't be the exception. He could get as close as he pleased, but he'd likely get a shove if she got uncomfortable with his proximity. She didn't bother commenting on the statement that cities weren't very peaceful. If that's what the kid had expected, he didn't do his research and it served him right for moving to one.
As for someone breaking into her home, she simply grinned. "People aren't stupid enough to invade my home, and they're certainly not stupid enough to steal from me," she replied, rather matter-of-factly. "People that try stunts like that end up dead."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Carrick’s nostrils flared slightly out of annoyance when she stated she didn’t care if he had manners or not. Really it seemed to most people all that mattered were manners and one of the few times he asked nicely nothing. People wondered why he often engaged in smart-assery case in point right here. Carrick mentally sighed and stared at the woman his gaze shifting towards her as she placed her hands on her hips. Whoever said you could catch more bees’ honey clearly has never met this woman.
”See,” Carrick commented the smart-assery returning, ”Told you wouldn’t like it!” Carrick said returning her matter-of-factly tone as he casually took a step away from the woman attempting to keep some distance from her suddenly darker disposition. ”You know there are windows that are already broken right? Ones with similar tinted glass?” Carrick said, his tail swaying behind him with out much thought.
”Why do most stuntmen end up dead if they are stupid enough to invade your home?” Carrick asked casually wondering if she lived in a fortress of some kind his imagination already painting a picture of some kind and at the same time Carrick debated saying ‘challenge accepted’ to her comment about people stealing from her.
Carrick was after all a thief and even though he would steal from a person without much hesitation a church still remained off limits to even him. If god wasn’t going to punish him he knew that Karma or guilt would, but it was clear that this woman didn’t given any of the three much thought.
Isabel couldn't help but smirk as the kid's initial amiability seemed to fade a bit into irritation. Aw, he didn't like her being so straight forward? Well that was just too bad. He didn't like it, he didn't have to talk to her. He was the one that started it in the first place. Bird-boy could just go back to sitting up in the rafters and mind his own business if he didn't like her company. She wouldn't mind it.
"Yeah, I wouldn't like it. Because it would be my stuff. You don't own anything in here. And from the look of the place, neither does anyone else anymore," she stated, one hand leaving her hip momentarily to make a sort of all-inclusive gesture. She tugged at her damp shirt to hopefully make it stick to her skin less before placing her hand back where it had previously rested.
And there may have been other already broken windows, but she was already working at the whole one and preferred to stay where she was. Plus, she wasn't about to let some bratty birdbrain sway her. "Don't. Care. I picked this one, so I'm going to stay with this one." How many times was she going to have to repeat herself before he got the idea?
She grinned a bit wider as the kid moved on to ask her to expand upon her earlier statement. He really was new to the city. Meh, that was alright. She didn't often get tired of introducing herself to people and bragging about why she was so well known to others. "They'd end up dead because I would kill them."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Carrick shook his head and rubbed his head slightly trying to brush away his initial frustrations with the girl, ”Correction, house of god meaning it belongs to everyone right?” Carrick asked trying to recall some things his priests back home would used to say about the house of god.
It seemed all of Carrick’s pleas were going unanswered, ”You’re a stubborn bird aren’t ya…” Carrick said more to himself but loud enough for the girl to hear it.
Carrick blinked in response and then tilted his head as he hopped up onto a handrail that a few inches next to him until he was crouched with his wings slightly open. His posture resembled a stone gargoyle, ”Bit extreme isn’t it?” Carrick asked, ”I mean you are stealing those pieces of glass and I don’t feel like killing you.”
Isabel nearly rolled her eyes at the mention of the 'House of God' thing. She always had thought it was rather silly that people would believe something like an omnipotent being would need a house to live in on Earth. He was supposed to reside in Heaven. Why would anyone leave something like Heaven to come to a place like Earth? She certainly couldn't think of any good reasons.
"I don't believe in all that religious hocus pocus," she stated rather mater-of-factly as her hand found its way back to the window into the larger patch of green and claimed another prize. She loved green. "Doesn't seem like I'm alone in that opinion, either, by the look of this place. If people cared, it wouldn't be such a dump. If your God cared, he wouldn't allow it. Hell, I'd probably get a lightning bolt between the eyes just for trying to get into some church. Looks like no one's home to me."
God was just another fairy tale in her mind, just like Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. It was nice to believe that someone was out there trying to save you from some awful thing in the world, but one can only spend so many years waiting and hoping before that belief shrivels and dies and the real world overshadows and replaces it.
Her brief reverie was broken as the bird boy started chirping again. She gave a small smirk as her fingers worked to remove the black tar-like substance that held the shards of glass together from the green piece she'd just claimed. "You're more forgiving than I am. I'm not willing to give anyone another chance to try the same stupid mistake. Besides, what's the fun in letting them get away? Everyone loves a good chase."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
It was a matter of faith that some people had that allowed them to believe in a higher power, Carrick happened to have that faith though his depiction of god was more of a watcher. One who witnessed the goods and evils of the world opposed to one that struck down the wicked other wise the world would have been perfect. Something Carrick believed on existed in the after life. The lack of physical proof was often the cause of people not believing. ”Believe it or not, to each their own.” Carrick said not really the type to force any sort of belief on anyone.
”He is more of a watcher than a doer, less things get boring.” Carrick said his tail swaying behind him. ”Doubt your as bad as you think. He does forgive after all.” Carrick said in a matter of fact tone as he continued on, ”I’m home.” Carrick said simply enough, and that should be enough for some people.
”Well technically I’m an angel.” Carrick said opening one of his wings with a grin. ”We are supposed to be forgiving, right?” Carrick asked as he arched his back upright at the mention of a chase. ”Tell you what, how about we have a fun little chase. You catch me you can have all the glass you want and I’ll stop bugging you. You don’t catch me in the time limit you take the glass that you have and leave the rest… sound like fun?”
Blah, blah, blah. Religious mumbo jumbo, the church was his home, blah blah. The whole being an angel thing really put it over the top. Isabel wasn't a believer in God, and that non-belief extended to all his heavenly minions. Just another mutant kid was a much more likely explanation, and she wasn't going to believe otherwise. If the kid thought differently, then that was just proof that he was a birdbrain.
The mention of a game did perk her interest, though. Outwardly she only allowed a slight quirk of her eyebrow betray that curiosity. Her interest faded a little, however, as the rules for their chase was laid out. He didn't exactly sell it as very exciting. He didn't seem to understand that he was trying to toy with a killer, either.
"And what makes you think I'm going to stop taking what I want just because you asked me to? It didn't work before, it's not going to work just because you try to turn it into a game," she replied, breaking off another piece of glass to prove her point. Following rules had never been her thing, nor had obliging when being told what to do. Just because some snot-nosed little kid didn't approve of her actions didn't mean she was going to feel bad and cooperate with his compromises.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
She wasn’t fun, this much was clear. Carrick shrugged his shoulders and replied, ”Yeah, but if we turn it into a game I think you’d like the outcome better, see if I lose you won’t have to listen to me chirping or preaching up in the rafters till you leave or me cussing up on the floor.” Carrick shrugged again and hopped to the nearest perch.
”Look I’ll even help you get the hard to reach pieces up there,” Carrick said pointing to the top of the window far out of the reach to those who were cursed to keep their feet on the ground.
”Really it will be fun, unless you are afraid to lose to a child…” Carrick said shrugging again revealing a toothy grin.
