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.
"Why don't you put your lips to use and kiss my ass,"
Pausing in mid article Zephyr slowly lowered his screen until he caught the soubrettes eyes and raised an eyebrow in equal parts surprise and bemusement, uncertain if he’d actually heard her properly. While Duskmoor was capable of making the odd retort or two, the slightest innuendo typically left her blushing and stammering like a schoolgirl which was a feat in itself.
Still, if she was actually going to start playing along…
“Come now Isabel, business before pleasure you know that.” His gaze drifted back towards his tablet whilst keeping the gamine in the corner of his vision, once a minute had passed though and the girl gave no indication she was returning to work. The hessian continued in a deceptively mild tone, “You know if you aren’t interested in earning your keep we could always go back to our usual routine, we can even start by having you cry ‘uncle’ again.”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Nope. Isabel was not going to play his stupid games, no way. He pulled this nonsense way to damn often, trying to get her all flustered and embarrassing her into doing what he wanted her to. She was so done with that. She debated whether or not it would be worth it to try and break his stupid tablet in order to shift the focus of the conversation and keep her face from slowly heating up but she doubted she'd get very far.
"Don't you dare," she hissed, shooting a glare in his direction. She was so not willing to play that damn game a second time. He cheated and he knew it and she hated him for it. "You try it and I'm not putting another damn bit of bone into these walls." Because she obviously had a choice in the matter.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
"You try it and I'm not putting another damn bit of bone into these walls." And just like that the girls attitude drained any potential amusement from the situation.
A barely audible sigh escaped the hessian as his shoulders fell in slight resignation. Duskmoor had been doing so well lately and he’d dared to hope she might have reached the end of her jejune rebellious phase. Annoyingly though that didn’t seem to be the case, still he wasn’t so much surprised as disappointed; the soubrette had dealt with him for over a year now and she knew her truculence wouldn’t get her anywhere, yet she persisted.
Frustrating didn’t begin to cover it,
Temptation rose and, for just a moment, Zephyr toyed with the idea of simply compelling the buxom soubrette back to work. It would take so little effort, just three simple words and the gamines petty recalcitrance would vanish like smoke in the wind.
The moment passed as quickly as it had come though as the elemental grounded himself in the reality of the situation. The compulsion he’d placed on the soubrette wasn’t something that could be used casually. Give the wrong command at the wrong time and the girl could easily kill herself trying to accomplish something impossible without having any say in the matter.
No the primary purpose of the Promise had always been to give the girl a set of tenets; something to compensate for her severe lack of foresight and common sense. Without them she’d been little more than a bloody psychopath killing indiscriminately at every insult real or perceived for almost half a decade. While such prowess was valuable, without restraint it quickly became more trouble than it was worth and in most cases a rabid dog like Duskmoor was simply put down.
Fortunately for the soubrette her mutation had just enough potential to warrant a salvage effort instead of a bounty. Over a year later however and the elemental still found himself questioning the wisdom of his decision. The soubrette had power that wasn’t in question but she lacked imagination and her attitude made her difficult to work with at the best of times.
Still, one reaped what they sowed; he’d see this through to the end, one way or another.
“You know, I really thought we were past this.” His tone was a mixture of weary and resigned as he lowered the tablet and met Duskmoor’s glare with his own condescending gaze. “Tell me Isabel, is there any part of you, any part of all, that doesn’t believes I can damn well make you do this?”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Isabel rolled her eyes as the young man started to sigh and blabber on again. She unwaveringly held his gaze as she continued to glare from her spot on the floor. He could look down his nose at her all he wanted, but it wasn't going to make her do a damn thing. She was used to his condescending nonsense by that point and it still did nothing to motivate her.
"You can't make me do a goddamn thing if I don't want to," she spat back, her temper flaring in the face of the implied threat. She knew very well that he could force her to do any number of things, but that didn't mean she'd listen without putting up a fight or that she'd admit that she knew the truth of the matter.
The windbag was striking a nerve and she wasn't about to sit there and let him do it. If he really wanted her to get back to work with the walls then she could do it, but she would guarantee he wasn't going to like the outcome. She probably wouldn't like the outcome much either, but until that point was reached she didn't particularly care.
She didn't bother to get up or posture in the face of his threat, she simply held her challenging glare and dropped her hand to the ground at her side and let her palm brush up against the wall and the splinters she'd been driving into it. It was a simple enough task to connect surrounding splinters if they weren't already connected and send thread-like tendrils racing up across the ceiling and back down the opposite wall where any number of the splinters there wriggled out of the wall and grew into larger tendrils with the aim of wrapping the young man in a cocoon of bone. Maybe if she was lucky she'd even smash the infuriating tablet of his in the process.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
One moment he’d been trying to browbeat the petulant soubrette into doing what amounted to her homework, the next a wall of white had swept by like a speeding car and he’d found himself in darkness which, while an improvement in some ways, was still decidedly irritating.
That being said though, part of the elemental couldn’t help but be impressed, Duskmoor had locked him in and she’d accomplished it with none of her usual drama; no rage filled rants or flailing arms, no invectives or death threats.
For Isabel that was positively subtle.
Unfortunately, much as he’d like to encourage this (relatively) restrained line of thinking he couldn’t let the girl completely off the hook. Without abusing the compulsion the authority he held over was tenuous at best. If he let walk away now she’d be all but impossible for at least a week and it would be back to running drills in the warehouse.
He needed to change the playing field.
As with most things though it was easier said than done; Duskmoor had created walls on three side that were, for all intents and purposes, airtight. While he could likely break them down without too much effort , any act of destruction on his part would simply invite the girl to respond in kind, or rebuild the walls in a revolving game of cat and mouse.
No, a physical fight wasn’t called for here there was another way out, he simply needed to play for time and the best way to do that was to get Isabel talking or ranting, or gloating, there wasn’t much difference where she was concerned honestly.
Leaning against the unaltered wall at his back Zephyr folded his arms and adopted a long suffering cadence tinged with amusement as he twisted the air so his words traveled clearly to his unwilling protégé. “…you know, if you wanted to keep me all to yourself you could have just said so.”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
She hated that trick the windbag did where he threw his voice. It was bad enough that she had to listen to him talking at all but to have him speaking into her ear no matter how far away from him she got was just awful. She'd at least managed to stop herself from swatting at the air near the side of her head whenever he did it anymore but it still managed to alarm her to some small degree. She liked her personal space and she'd prefer it wasn't invaded even if just by a voice.
"Too bad I can't ever manage to murder you when we're all alone like this. It's so much easier to do that kind of thing without any witnesses to blame the mess on me, Isabel sighed, rolling her eyes at his statement and trying her best not to get drawn into his embarrassing insinuations just to have him poke fun at her red cheeks. "Not that I ever really want to be alone with you. I just can't ever seem to get rid of you."
Still she didn't like to let his snide comments go unnoticed however hard she tried to ignore them. It was his way of poking fun at her, of dismissing her aggravation and ignoring her complaints about him and the stupid tasks he always set her to. Her hand was still set against the connecting bone so she wouldn't even have to move to get back at him and if she didn't need to move then he didn't stand much of a chance at stopping her before she managed to gather any steam. She really hated to be ignored.
The fact that the young man was surrounded by bone and still felt comfortable antagonizing her said an awful lot. It told her of his underestimation of her temper and his misplaced faith in his ability to keep her in check. She didn't have to lift a finger to send a section of the cocoon interior snapping in his direction. There wasn't any way for her to see him but she could make a decent guess as to how his body might be positioned inside the enclosure. The only thing she was really aiming to do was shut him up by slapping a section of bone over his mouth and possibly forcing his head back into the wall with just enough force to daze him. Whether or not she actually hit her mark wasn't a huge concern. The intent was there and if he had any brains at all he'd get the message. She preferred it when he was silent.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Trapped within his osseous cell Zephyr reflected on what he knew of the girl who'd imprisoned him as he waited for her response. In all the time he'd worked with Duskmoor there had been ample opportunities to test various means of 'handling' her all of which had met with varying degrees of success.
Simple brib compensation, the most common means of collaboration between parties, was useless where the soubrete was concerned. It wasn't that she was rich, far from it actually, but she'd been raised on the charity of the Order which had seen to all her basic needs and anything that hadn't been given to her she'd simply taken from others. As a result she almost no value in legal tender aside from the occasional convenience it provided.
Violence, perhaps the second most common basis of business relationships, met with slightly more success but just wasn't feasible in the long term. The gamine was stubborn as a mule and even more spiteful and so beating her into submission often took longer than whatever task she was required to perform. That combined with the increase chance of simply breaking her, left violence as an option of last resort.
Threats tended to do little better than actual violence as the ingenue appeared to posses an almost reflexive urge to call him out on his actions, more often than not forcing him to follow through. Blackmail on the other hand had proven to be far more rewarding approach but was subject but was subject to diminishing returns as Duskmoor's anger would inevitably overcome whatever fear or humiliation she was threatened with. It had to be used sparingly which thus left the hessian with the final approach that had become his fallback.
Flirting, or more appropriately teasing, had become, if not a silver bullet, then at least a suitably shiny stick when it came to distracting the typically caustic brunette. Whether it was her lack of home life, the treatment in the camps or pure introversion, Isabel was literally a virgin in almost all maters of intimacy and her lack of familiarity left her vulnerable to less direct manipulation.
Still, all that had changed with the advent of the Geass he'd managed to place on the girl. The compulsion had already proved it's worth a number of times but it wasn't without risks; in much same way that machine could be ruined by imprecise commands, contradictory or careless orders could potentially break Duskmoors mind.
As a result the elemental had been forced to re-evaluate his approach with the gamine as the compulsion gradually grew in power, resorting back to threats to see what new leveraged he'd gained and-
THUD
All thought came to an abrupt halt as Zephyr felt something enter his personal space half a second before something fastened to his chin and abruptly jerked his head fully against the metal wall it had only been lightly leaning on before, a dull impact echoing in the confines of the cocoon even as the elementals body, rapidly dissolved into motes of air and surged through an electrical socket into the space between walls before emerging in a room not ten feet from the soubrettes his azure eyes narrowed in fierce concentration as he rubbed his jaw.
That shouldn't have happened. The hessian had made a record of every command he'd given the girl since the inception of the compulsion, and chief among them had been an order to never raise a hand against him, literally or otherwise and was to date the most absolute mandate he'd leveled at the soubrette.
And she'd just ignored it.
Frowning slightly Zephyr shook his head; he wasn't going to jump to conclusions based on nothing more than a light rap on the head. Ego aside, it hadn't even hurt, if anything it had been meant to chastise... huh.
Duskmoor had just given him a lovetap.
The thought was so patently absurd that the hessian almost had to chuckle, his shoulder's shaking briefly in suppressed humour as he tried to reconcile the idea even as he pondered his response before his lips twitched into a slow smirk. For all that he wasn't entirely comfortable with what the brunette had achieved her intent had been perfectly clear to whit; 'shut up'.
Clearly she needed a reminder that turnabout was fair play.
Reaching out towards Duskmoor slumped form the hessian concentrated on the air around the soubrettes head, carefully gathering it into his grasp without disturbing it before gradually moving deeper as he started to hum a faint tune that nonetheless made it's ways to the girls ears even as he raised a hand and began tracing letters in the air which were soon echoed in the metal surface of the wall in front of the girl.
'Anything you can do I can do better
And as the first line finished so did Zephyr's preparations; the air surrounding the gamines head surged inwards, past lips and between teeth the sudden wind forced it's way into Duskmoor's mouth and... stayed there, an invisible gag which trapped the tongue and removed any ability to shift her head.
...I can do anything better than you.'
---
OOC: Unedited, will edit later so let me know if you want anything changed.
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
The faint thud that Isabel could make out from inside the cocoon was probably a little more satisfying than it should have been. She had to smirk at the mental image of the jerk's skull meeting the wall assuming her aim had been close enough. Either way she'd managed to get a blind jab in and that was good enough for her.
Unfortunately for her the small victory was short lived. Her smug smirk quickly turned into a grimace as a searing pain cut across her stomach and back toward her spine. She hardly even heard the mocking tune buzzing around her head or the sound of the gouged metal while the bone wrapped up against the opposite wall collapsed like a pile of wet noodles and moved to gather around her on the floor like a collection of brambles.
The thing that managed to draw her attention away from the slowly dulling pain across her waist was the sudden force that jammed its way between her teeth and jerked her head back against the wall. Her arms stayed firmly wrapped around her waist where her shirt was beginning to feel slightly damp but her legs sort of flailed as she struggled to get to her feet and escape the shock she'd just received.
However, whatever it was that had settled itself into her mouth and effectively trapped her tongue and locked her head in place wouldn't let her budge. Whatever damage had been done by the inexplicable pain didn't seem to be anything life threatening judging from the dampness she could feel so wasn't long before her hands abandoned her stomach and instead made their way to her face to try and pry whatever it was out of her mouth. But there wasn't anything there for her fingers to find purchase on so she was essentially stuck where she was until Zephyr decided he was done playing games.
She caught site of the words that had been carved into the opposite wall and did her best to deliver a string of choice words around the blockage in her mouth.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
For all her infamy and power Duskmoor was not a complicated soul, in fact once one recognized her almost utter lack of mores concerning violence and death her behavior was actually rather predictable. The difficulty lay in attempting to change that behavior which at times was akin to trying to sink an iceberg.
As such when his humming and less than subtle message failed to provoke any immediate rise from the shapely soubrette it was something worth noting. Even more so when he focused his senses on her figure and found her body language radiating pain as she clutched at the area of her tattoo and surrounded herself in a living lattice of thorns. It took little mental acuity to make the rather obvious leap in logic and the elemental found a small part of himself took satisfaction in the scenes shadenfreude; in watching the bloodthirsty brunette deal with the consequences of her actions.
What little amusement he might have derived from Duskmoors discomfort was swiftly waylaid by several factors not the least of which being that, for the promise to be actively punishing the girl, that at some level her own consciousness believed she’d violated the orders given to her.
That in and of itself raised a worrying number of possibilities.
Fortunately almost none of them required any immediate consideration, and for that one that did well, any concern he might have for Isabel’s wellbeing began to evaporate when the buxom brunette abruptly reverted back to type; doing her best to issue muffled curses as she tried to wrest her head free of his grasp with motions that caused rather… interesting things to happen in the vicinity of her chest.
Which of course had absolutely no bearing on his decision to let the shapely soubrette vent her frustrations for the handful of minutes it took her to calm down or, more accurately, wear herself out.
By the time Isabel at last managed something resembling quiescence she’d given him ample time to prepare his next move which, for all intents and purposes, was likely somewhat underwhelming, when he strode casually into view and paused right before the mercurial nest of needles she’d built around her pinned form.
“Are you quite done?” The words were level and, if not calm than, at the very least not angry. In fact perhaps the most evident emotion was disappointment which, judging from the flash of anger in Duskmoors eyes, she’d mistaken for pity.
Seeing this, and not wanting to give the girl a chance to work herself into a muffled rage, Zephyr let loose a long breath and took a single step forward, holding the gamines gaze as her wall of razor edged thorns bit into his flesh before it parted and reformed around them like smoke.
“Do you realize we’ve been doing this for over a year Isabel? Playing this petty game of tug of war? You told me once that you hated the idea of being weak and I agreed to help you grow stronger. Have I not done that? Have I not shown you time and time again that you can trust me? So why do you keep fighting me?”
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Cursing and making threats while gagged was nowhere near as satisfying as being able to deliver them loudly and clearly, preferably while also acting upon those threats. It was even less satisfying having to swear at a wall rather than the object of her frustrations. As such it didn't take too long before Isabel gave it up along with her attempts to remove the blockage between her teeth and instead heaved a sigh ad let her arms fold back around her stomach knowing full well that the blowhard would stroll smugly into sight before too long, presumably to preach at her as he usually did.
And just as she suspected Zephyr delivered, perhaps less smugly than she'd anticipated but no less irritating because of it. She didn't have the patience to listen to him talking down to her like she was some poor charity case he'd picked up or an unruly child he was trying to parent. But she couldn't exactly argue for herself through the gag even if he'd given her room to reply before he was good and ready to stop talking. He'd gotten frustratingly good at predicting her oncoming rebuttals and cutting them off before she could gain any steam.
So she simply glared at him as he strode closer, though her gaze faltered when he stepped right up against the barrier she'd hastily constructed. The warning ache in her stomach could have been real or imagined as he pressed into the brambles but either way she was forced to oblige his intrusion and make room for him to stand unassaulted. Isabel never had liked it when he intruded upon her personal space, especially when such clear boundaries had been set up but she wasn't exactly in a good position to make any demands of him.
As hard as she tried she was never able to ignore him for long and she knew he was capable of waiting her out or needling her until she delivered answers to his questions, especially when it came to the godawful heart-to-hearts he was occasionally keen on though she wasn't exactly sure why. She could only stall for so long once he decided to remove the gag.
It didn't stop her from trying though once he finally did. As important as their little chats were she was more concerned with the gash running around her midsection. "I don't like being cornered," she stated simply, wanting to keep him from pressing at her too soon while she dropped her gaze to examine her injury. She peeled back the hem of her shirt too see the angry cut and carefully spread the wound apart to try and gauge how deep it was. With a sigh she wiped at the red smears across her skin while the wound began to stitch itself shut until she could make a trip to the infirmary and have it properly fixed.
While she supervised the stitching she distractedly attempted to reinforce her statement by allowing several tendrils of bone to wrap their way around Zephyr's legs toward his knees. Having him force his way into her personal space even further wasn't an appealing idea and she'd like him to know that. The thorns on the few tendrils had been retracted though, just in case he took it as an outright threat or it aggravated her injury even further.
"I don't like being cornered." she repeated while she shifted to sit cross-legged and her brambles crept closer to her lap as she continued to examine her stitching as an excuse to to have to look up at him while she spoke. "I don't like being told what to do and I really don't like being made to do things. I don't like you for telling me what to do and making be do things that you want me to do." She'd only ever allowed the acting leader of the Order to reserve the right to giver her orders, but it had been her choice to follow those orders. With a promise in place that apparently punished her if she didn't comply she no longer had that luxury.
"And I don't trust you. I can't trust you," she continued, trying to sound nonchalant about an issue that had bothered her so very deeply. She only had to stay calm long enough for the conversation to end and then hopefully she could make her escape and deal with everything as she saw fit. "You're playing nice for now. You've kept me relatively safe, you're keeping certain boundaries in check, and you made sure I didn't bleed to death in the park and that's great and all but it doesn't mean you get to have my trust. You're playing nice for now but you could always change your mind and toss the act out the window at any time. You pretend to allow me boundaries and give me leniencies and exceptions to your rules but they can always be revoked. You know my biggest weak points and you could easily use them to your advantage and I can't stop you. You cornered me and now I have to do everything you tell me to or else I'm going to get torn apart. I can't trust someone that's got that kind of power over me."