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.
Katrina found herself in the music conservatory once again. Truthfully, she had hoped that Hunter would be there. Really, she was missing her own parents and Hunter was the closest person to a parent that she currently had. Hunter didn’t look that much older than Kaz, but Kazelf seemed more like a brother to her and Hunter was somehow more fatherly. Katrina wasn’t sure how she could distinguish the two, since she didn’t really have any siblings, but the difference was there all the same.
The music conservatory was empty when she arrived. All the instruments were in their glass cases where they belonged. Her own oboe was in its small carrying case, leaning against the wall. She hadn’t meant to leave it here over night, but it didn’t seem like anyone would steal it. Someone had even been along to put away the instruments that she and Hunter had left out yesterday after her little fainting spell.
Katrina took out her oboe, wet her reed, and set up a music stand. She didn’t have anything to play, so she went to the shelf of oboe music and took out the same Bach duet that she and Hunter had played yesterday. She hoped to work out some of the more difficult passages so that she wouldn’t make as many mistakes the next time.
She took a breath and began to play. The music for some reason seemed dead today. Katrina would have liked to blame the lifelessness on the lack of an accompanist, on her reed being too dry, on playing her oboe instead of the magnificent king of oboes that was locked away in its glass case, but she knew deep down that it wasn’t the fault of any of those things. The real reason the music was lifeless was her mood. She wasn’t feeling any of the passion that made music great; she was just empty. Katrina sighed and began again. She could tell it was going to be one of those practice sessions.
Upon hearing that Katrina was practising in the music conservatory he went down to meet her rather than have her sent up to him. He reached the door just as she began the piece again. It was the same piece that they had played together. Creeping silently into the room he kept out of sight of Katrina and made his way to the cabinet where his violin was stored.
Removing it soundlessly he closed the cabinet and readied the instrument. As he did so he began to think that during the opening stages of infiltration Katrina could probably come and visit them, the risk would be minimal. So long as the visits stopped once they got more heavily involved with the Church it would be fine. Waiting for an appropriate moment he began to play, joining in seamlessly with Katrina.
As she played it the second time through, she thought she could hear the violin playing along again. It was so soft at first that she couldn’t even tell when it had begun. At first she thought it was her imagination or an illusion. As it grew louder she knew it couldn’t be, because it was too real. She looked over and realized that Hunter was there, playing along. She was surprised, but she didn’t stop playing. They finished the song together with much more life than it had begun with.
Katrina was glad to see him and smiled. “Hello.” Now that he was here, she wasn’t sure exactly what she had wanted to say to him, so she waited for him to speak first. It wasn’t so much that she had anything in particular, more that she had just wanted a parent around. She didn’t really want to admit that she missed her own parents, because she wanted to prove that she could be independent, but she also had an underlying fear that maybe they were better off without her.
Hunter finished the song with Katrina, who to her credit didn’t jump as his sudden appearance like Paragon did. Admittidly he’d been more subtle with this entrance that he had been with Paragon, but it was nice to see someone pleased to see him for a change.
Setting down his violin Hunter went and took a seat in one of the large, comfy chairs, beckoning for Katrina to come and sit with him. “You’re getting better,” he said, not wanting to jump right into the fact that he would soon be leaving, “but don’t forget to practise your illusions as well as your instrument.”
It seemed that they would be talking instead of playing duets today. Katrina settled into a chair next to Hunter after setting her oboe carefully on top of its case. The practicing hadn’t been going well anyway. If she tried it again later, maybe it would go better. Speaking of practicing… Hunter reminded her to practice illusions as well; now that was a parent-y type thing to say.
“I wasn’t sure how long I should wait before trying illusions again, after yesterday,” she responded to his reminder, feeling a little guilty. That was only half true, she also hadn’t really felt like it. She hadn’t felt like doing much of any thing today, which is why she hadn’t even come to practice oboe until so late in the day. She had been too busy moping all day.
Why was she moping? A lot of reasons. For starters, she had been up late listening to everyone talk at the resistance meeting, she then had nightmares and stayed up even later with Kitra and Calley trying to banish said nightmares, then she had woken up to find that everyone else was busy preparing for the resistance. It seemed that everyone had a job to do but her. The combination of lack of sleep and lack of anything meaningful to do had left her grumpy.
Katrina had finally come down to practice to see if it would improve her mood and to see if Hunter was around. And now he was. And they were sitting in chairs, about to have what promised to be a serious conversation. Why else would he have come to the music room if not to practice? She hoped that she wasn’t in trouble. She didn’t want to ask or it would seem like she was admitting to something, although to what, she had no idea.
“Was there something you wanted to talk about?” She debated adding sir or Mr. Antonescu, but that would definitely have made her look guilty. She went over everything she had done that day, but couldn’t think of what it could be. Perhaps it was something she hadn’t done? She hoped she wasn't a disappointment.
Hunter could almost sense the guilt radiating from her. The questioning of the illusions hadn’t been meant to make her feel guilty, so he said, “I think you’ll be alright so long as you keep the illusions small. If you practise them everyday you’ll find that soon enough you can create that ballroom without even breaking a sweat.”
“However, I didn’t come here to berate you for not practising your illusions. I came here for several reasons, one of which was to give you this.” He presented Katrina with a key. It was the key to the cabinet with the oboe in it. Hunter had yet to earn the oboe, it was unlikely to in the near future. Katrina could make use of it now, so he was going to allow her to practise while he was away.
Katrina renewed her resolve to practice her illusions everyday. She wasn’t too late yet for today, so as soon as she got the chance she would practice right away. She wanted to live up to Hunter’s expectations for getting better. His tone was casual and he didn’t seem too disappointed, so Katrina started to relax again. She wondered what his ‘several reasons’ were for wanting to talk.
The first of the reasons was soon revealed to her as Hunter handed her a small gold colored key. Katrina looked at it for just a moment, puzzled. Then she glanced up at the case across the room that held Hunter’s special oboe and she realized what the key was for. She wanted to make sure by running over and testing it out to make sure it was the right key, but she stayed in her seat, her excitement plainly written on her face.
“For me?” she asked, double checking to make sure she understood his intensions. She was already making plans in her head to play the oboe again as soon as possible. She would even practice illusions at the same time. She could play the duet again, or she had seen a song based on Ovid’s Metamorphoses on the shelf that would be interesting to read… Katrina realized that she had momentarily forgotten all about Hunter, sitting right next to her.
She wiped the dreamy look off of her face and looked at his straight in the eyes. She had never looked him in the eyes from so close before. She had either been farther away, watching music, riding on his shoulder, but so far hadn’t really looked him in the face long enough to realize that his eyes were not grey, like her own as she had first thought. Instead they had a metallic silver luster. Pretty. It was like looking into two mirrors, except she couldn’t see her reflection.
Hunter smiled, the excitement on the girls face was obvious. He pressed the key lightly into Katrina’s hand and used his other hand to close her fingers around it. “For you,” he echoed, “Right now the exquisite instrument is just lying there in a cabinet. It seems such a waste considering there is someone here of remarkable talent willing to play it.”
Sitting back in his chair he paused for a moment, thinking about what to say. “Katrina, you remember at the meeting I mentioned that while everyone else was fighting in the resistance I would be off working the law from a different angle? Well the time has come for me to go and do that. I’m leaving for it tomorrow.”
He wouldn’t mention the possibility of visits unless she displayed an interesting in coming to see him. The visits would be a risk, not just to Katrina, but to him and Paragon as well. However, if she wanted to see him as much as he did her then she would be allowed to visit them during the early stages of the operation.
She looked at the key, at the case that held the oboe, and at Hunter in turn, her eyes filled with wonder. Being able to play such a wonderful oboe was an amazing opportunity, especially for someone of her skill level. Hunter said she had remarkable talent and she blushed, but she couldn’t really believe it. Surely it was the magic of the oboe that gave it such a rich and glorious tone. She was ecstatic to be able to play it whenever she wanted, without asking permission.
Then Hunter spoke again, and all elation crashed down to the floor around the chair. He was leaving tomorrow. That hadn’t really registered before. She had assumed that he would be away during the day, like at a job, but it seemed more permanent now. Disappointment filled her. Every time she started to make friends, they were whisked away the very next day like the people she had met at the mansion. Like Hunter.
But Hunter was in charge of Mondragon Labs, so he couldn’t be gone all the time right? He’d have to come back to make sure things were running smoothly. Like at home, when her mom went away for a few days, nothing got done around the house and there wasn’t any food. Katrina predicted that Mondragon Labs would fall apart without Hunter there to keep everything in line.
After a moment to consider this, Katrina asked not-pouting, “You will come back to visit though right? I mean, this place won’t be able to run without you here to take care of things. So when you come back will you, um, visit me too? Or you could write.” She added the last comment hastily, changing the subject and not wanting to seem overeager.
Katrina’s thoughts flitted back and forth between Hunter and her parents. Would he miss her? Did they miss her? Hunter didn’t even know her that well, and her parents… her father would reject her if he knew. Her mother had been responsible for making her leave, to protect her own secret. Katrina didn’t realize it, but she was trying to detached herself from them, by making excuses and blaming them. She was substituting aloofness and anger for how she was really feeling: abandoned and worthless, not worthy of being missed or loved.
Upon hearing Katrina speak Hunter knew that he would have to let her visit. As far as he could tell he was the most stabilising, parental in the girl’s life at present. While she may well be meeting lots of big brother figures, like Kaz, he was the only one who seemed to offer the protection, comfort and authority of a parent. It seemed that since Paragon his parental instincts had been awoken. Since Paragon was born he’d never killed a child, something in the past he’d done without pause. Looking back on it now he regretted take the lives of people so young.
“How about I go one better?” he asked, “What if I was to say you could come and visit us while we’re out doing our work to help the resistance? My daughter and I will be living in an apartment in New York. If you think that you can pretend to be my niece then you can come and visit us. And you have to bring the oboe when you do and show me how good you’ve gotten.”
When things got riskier her visits would have to stop, but in the beginning it was safe enough to allow her to come and visit him. For the first time he wondered what Paragon would think about this. He’d promised her no lies, and no manipulation. In the morning he’d take Katrina to meet her and explain, although quite how he’d explain it he didn’t know yet.
Katrina brightened. She wasn't being abandoned after all. Instead, she began to get excited about leaving the labs rather than being cooped up all the time, and about meeting Hunter's daughter. She was probably really cute. Would she look like Hunter?
“That would be cool. I can pretend to be your niece. Should I start calling you uncle? What is your daughter like, does she have silver eyes too? What is her name? How old is she?”
She refrained from asking questions about the daughter's mother, even though she was curious about Hunter's family. He hadn't pressed her about her family, so it was only fair. It could be to awkward in case he was divorced or something. That could easily be the case if Hunter was here without his daughter part of the time, then living elsewhere with his daughter the other part of the time. She paused her questioning to give him a chance to answer.
“When we’re out in public best call me Uncle Hunter, but you can just use Hunter otherwise,” Hunter answered to the first and easiest question. All the others were much more complicated, but he figured he’d rather explain it himself than let Paragon try.
“Iris doesn’t share my eyes and she is twenty one years old,” he began, “I’ve only discovered she was here in New York a few weeks ago. It’s a bit complicated, but when Iris was younger I planned to send her away to live what I thought would be a better life for her. Turns out I was wrong and just made things worse.”
“She’s still mad at me for that, but I hope with time she’ll come to understand my decision.” Katrina was the first person that he had shared this with apart from Paragon, and it was nice to explain to someone else a little of how he felt, even if it was only a twelve year old girl.
Hunter smiled at Katrina. The age question, he was wondering when that would pop up. It was true that he looked about Paragon’s age. In fact, h looked like at most he could have an eight year old child.
“I know I only look in my early twenties,” he told her, “but in fact I am four hundred and thirty seven years old.”
Katrina crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. He was obviously pulling her leg. This situation clearly deserved a sarcastic-preteen-comment, "You must have a very good plastic surgeon then."
She waited patiently for the truth. He could have been a very young teen dad, which would make him maybe thirty five. There were actors that were in their thirties that looked like they were in their twenties. Johnny Depp for example was 44, and he looked way younger than that.