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.
Posted by Sebastian on Feb 20, 2010 0:55:38 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
He turned away from the scene outside and began to fold up their bedding to put it back in the cedar chest for now. If they were going to clean, it was probably best not to mix the relatively clean things with the dirt they would be kicking up.
He nodded to Ghost's size assessment of the house. It was almost as big as the building that housed the school, perhaps, but it seemed bigger when it was so very empty. Bedrooms where he'd told stories as he tucked in children, fireplaces where they had huddled to keep warm, all of it was empty. Yet, he had no desire to move back here himself to fill that void. They had a life and a future waiting for them back in New York; this house was part of the past.
Sebastian paused, a blanket half folded in his hands. The house was part of the past, but could also be part of the future.
“Maya, do you think... do you think that the X-force could use this house? If we got it all cleaned up, they could even run a school out of here like Xavier's someday.” He hastily squished the blanket into a quick approximation of a square and placed it haphazardly on the growing pile for the cedar hutch.
“I mean, do you think Gary and Maggie would want to move all the way out here?” He wasn't quite grinning with excitement at the idea, but it was close, and his tail swished a little more quickly than was normal. He liked the idea of helping out their new/ old friends and the idea of the house being useful again.
Use it for the X-Force? It was an interesting idea. "They never had a school like the mansion... but it wouldn't hurt to ask if they wanted the space." Ghost hefted her wad of cover sheets in her arm. Sebastian was actually wagging his tail about the idea.
“I mean, do you think Gary and Maggie would want to move all the way out here?”
"I think they'd move." She was both amused and bewildered. "I also think they wouldn't mind helping with the elbow grease. Especially if you just gift the house. We'd need to grab some proper bedding before they arrive... uh. If they arrive. We're getting ahead of ourselves here. I'll call."
The sheets were sort of heaved in a pile ontop of the grody mattress. He was so excited about it that it made her smile. "I can call now if you like."
Posted by Sebastian on Feb 21, 2010 23:44:50 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
Yes, please. And thank you. Sebastian nodded. Then, he watched with interest as Ghost worked her cell phone. He had just gotten one before they had left and though Noin Mortman had given him lessons on how to use it, he hadn't quite worked the kinks yet. Number sequence, green button, wait for an answer, went his mental notes. He hoped the answer would be affirmative.
--
Sebastian had already gotten a lot of practice making repairs to old buildings that summer to get the Iris Clinic prepared for its grand opening (which had been delayed until after the honeymoon) and now, he was using those skills yet again to fix up the old Halifax house during his honeymoon.
The work went much faster with four people. At the end of a day or hammering, lifting, sawing, scrubbing, and sanding they were left with sore muscles, but glad hearts. It was happy work, and it felt good to do it for the benefit of a future group of heroes.
Amidst the hard work, they still found some time to relax. Sebastian took Ghost on tours of the grounds to show her all of his favorite little spots, from the swimming hole where the rope swing had long since rotted away to the old orchard where the trees still produced the crispiest apples he had ever tasted. In the evenings, the four of them entertained each other by trading tales they had invented or acquired through the course of their lives. The stories were sometimes fictional, sometimes factual, and sometimes a mixture of both.
A few days into their cleaning jobs, Sebastian found an old wooden flute that had been waiting for him all these years between the folds of an old quilt. He didn't remember if it had been his, but his fingers seemed to remember how to play it. Folk melodies from all around the world now intertwined with their nightly stories.
All too soon, the time came for Ghost and Sebastian to say their goodbyes. They left behind them a house filled with new life and brought with them the memories of two good friends.
They hadn't really set a time limit on this honeymoon. That was probably a mistake for both of their businesses (assuming they were both still standing upon their mutual return), but it was nice to not be rushed.
They fell into a comfortable rhythm. Breakfast, hard labor, sandwiches, hard labor, dinner and story time. Ghost got to know the Gary of now who was a different person with his wife still standing. In a way, Gary and Sebastian had that in common.
When it came time to leave, it was obvious where they had to go next. "What will we do? If we find Jude?" Ghost had tied a kerchief on her head to keep the short hair out of her eyes as they pulled their luggage along the exterior of the terminal. "Should we let him live out his life as it was--is now? He doesn't hold any special love for that place if I remember right and as young as is he has no manifested power."
They crammed onto the inter-terminal bus along with their stuff and several other passengers-to-be and their things. Ghost lowered her voice. "What can we do if he wants to get out of there? Adopt?" If they even found him. She was getting ahead of herself. They had an address. Not a guarantee that he was there.
Well they were going there as fast as these metal wings would carry them.
Posted by Sebastian on Mar 1, 2010 22:59:53 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
They were about to get on the second plan e of Sebastian's lifetime (not counting plane rides in dreams). The first one hadn't killed him, and he hoped the second one wouldn't either. Hoped. Prayed. Etcetera.
But they weren't on the plane yet, so he had a little time before he had to start hyperventilating. Furthermore, his wife was speaking. Sebastian wiped sweaty palms on his pants, welcoming the distraction.
“I don't know for certain. I think if we find Jude we will have to ask him what he would like to do. Even if he is only nine or ten, he should probably have a say in his own future.”
Sebastian tilted his head questioningly as they squished onto the bus. That suggestion wasn't what he had expected.
“Would you be ready to raise a ten year old boy?” It wasn't exactly easy, especially without warming up to it during years one through nine. Especially when she was only ten years older than he was. That was more of an older sister age gap than a mothering one.
“We could offer to adopt, or we could see if he wants to enroll at the mansion so he is at least close by if he needs us.”
It was not a long bus ride. Already they were pulling up to the appropriate stop. They were one step closer to their next airplane ride. Oh joy.
"Adopt?" She coughed as she stowed her overhead luggage. Had she said adopt? Ghost stopped and thought about it for a second. Yeah. She had. "I didn't mean adopt adopt." Not like she had meant it when she said marry me. Well. Maybe a little bit like that.
"He is just a kid now. Even if we give him options, we can't really promise those options unless," she threw up her hands, "unless you have some say in the child's future. And who is to say he even knows what is best? He's like 10!" Ghost had a little tickling feeling that Jude wouldn't be looking at himself as a child anymore.
She pulled her seat belt across her lap and pulled out the safety card, discarded that and rooted around for the menu card and the in flight magazine that would tell her what movies were playing. She didn't remember in the slightest that Sebastian wasn't a frequent flier until she saw him white-knuckled in his seat.
“Would you be ready to raise a ten year old boy?”
That had her thinking. She really hadn't thought through the adoption thing. She'd just said it. Because it was the first solution that came to mind. "I think that biologically things happen in order for a reason. Mommas and their bellies buy tiny socks and assemble cribs. They have a foundation of ten years of crying and scraped knees and wet beds to know how to deal with ten year olds. Jumping ahead to a ten year old is like cheating." She shrugged
"Cheating him of someone who knows what they're doing and cheating us out of a few years before he could talk... Or something." She ducked to hide a little smile.
"But... if that was what it would take to get him to the Mansion, or wherever he wants, I'd do it." In a heart beat. At least she wouldn't have to change his diapers. That would just be... weird.
Posted by Sebastian on Mar 4, 2010 15:03:25 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
Luggage stowed. Seat belt buckled. White knuckles engaged. Check, check, and check. Sebastian was as ready as he ever would be to take off. Just now, though, he'd rather adopt a ten year old boy than take off in this airplane. Ten year old boys weren't bad. They required a lot of exercise, but they weren't bad at all. Hades, he'd adopt ten ten year olds if he could just get off this plane and never get on another one again.
Except then Ghost would have to leave without him to get back to the New World. Even after having been together such a short time, he couldn't imagine having to be separated again so soon. So it looked like he would be flying again sooner rather than later.
He tried to focus on the conversation to distract himself as they began to drive, he thought it was called taxiing or something like that, slowly down the runway. This part wasn't so bad.
Distraction, “I don't know if it is any easier to start with a baby than with a ten year old. They are a lot of work as well. Talking though, they definitely give you the chance to do that without them understanding. Talking is good.” Talking was very good. It kept his mind almost off of the fact that the plane was rapidly picking up speed.
“I think the mansion would be a good place for him, even if his powers aren't active yet. We should call Sam and double check that...” his stomach lurched as the plane's wheels left the ground, “...it's ...okay,” he gripped the arm rests harder, if such a thing was possible, “before we make any promises to Jude.” Oh gods oh gods oh gods they were flying.
All this baby talk was well and good, but Ghost was still a kid. She would take Jude because Jude was Jude. And she wasn't going to leave him in a tight spot if she could get him out of it.
“We should call Sam and double check that...” aaaaaand takeoff. Sebastian said more, but it wasn't really all that intelligible.
"Sure." Ghost was sure it would be okay as long as they hadn't stolen the child or done something really illegal. Maybe even then they wouldn't mind. It was Sam who was running the place after all. He was always a bit looser on the rules. Thought it made him cool or something, probably.
"Relax." Ghost leaned over and kissed each knuckle on her arm rest before pulling at his fingers. With patience and time she was able to transfer Sebastian's hand into her own and push up the arm rest. Between their skinny bottoms and the two seats, they had plenty of room.
After the first drink service (Cranberry juice, please!) Ghost was nestled against Sebastian- feet on the floor, shoulder and head clearly on Sebastian's side of the seats -and sleeping the flight away. Planes just weren't a big deal. And this was only a short flight comparatively.
The pressure changes for descent always woke her up anyway.
Posted by Sebastian on Mar 7, 2010 21:02:42 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
One cranberry juice later and Ghost was asleep. Somehow she had managed to pry loose his death grip on the arm rest in order to fold it up and out of their way. He hadn't even known the arm rests could do that; it made it much easier for wives to use their husband's shoulders as pillows. He definitely wasn't going to complain about soft white hair tickling his ear or listening to the comforting sound of Maya's shallow breaths as she fell asleep. It was nice, even if he was on a plane.
Maybe this flying thing wasn't so bad after all.
If he didn't look out the window he could almost pretend that they were on a very smooth train. There was even a lady pushing a trolley with snacks and drinks to complete the image. Slowly, slowly Sebastian released his other hand from it's death grip as he began to relax ever so slightly.
“Attention passengers, we are beginning our final descent. Please fasten your safety belts and return to your seats. At this time all electronic devices...”
His hand found it's arm rest and once again gripped it so tightly that it was impossible to tell whether or not his palms actually overlapped the plastic. There was nothing he could do about the opposite hand, though. It was still being held captive by his sleeping wife and he didn't want to squeeze her hand right off. There was a sinking feeling in Sebastian's stomach as the plane seemed to drop out from beneath him. Was it normal to feel like they were falling?
Apparently so. None of the other passengers seemed at all concerned and the steward was still walking down the aisle, this time to collect any last minute garbage. Sebastian tried to convince himself that he was neither about to die nor about to splat very messily and painfully against the ground and not die.
He still hadn't fully convinced himself twenty minutes later when their plane was pulling up to its parking space next to the terminal.
“We made it safely,” he informed his snow haired spouse, his voice sounding as though he still wasn't a hundred percent convinced of that fact.
It wasn't the pressure difference in the air that woke Maya. It was the pressure difference in her husband.
Rock. Hard. Abs. Not because of muscle, but because of tension. They just didn't make for the best pillow. And when they were descending he had a less than comfortable grip on her hand. Well it was only a blink of time compared to the rest of his life. It would be over soon enough.
And then there were customs (which always sucked for non-residents) and then they were on a bus to a rental car place and then, finally, after much ado about nothing, they were in the car with a map. There were only a few times that the Parisians had looked at Sebastian as if he had sprouted a second horn. Apparently his French was good, but maybe he used some of the more archaic words? In any case, it was better than Maya's French. Which was non-existent.
"Do you think Jude speaks English?" It suddenly occurred to Ghost that she was going to have to learn French. And fast. Sebastian was a good teacher. It was something specific for them to do while Sebastian drove along the the winding country roads.
The sun began to set behind the vineyards as they pulled up to a stucco bed and breakfast. It was too late to hit the orphanage tonight, but first thing in the morning... Just to be safe, Maya had the front desk call ahead. And poor Sebastian had to translate it all. In the end they had an appointment to visit. It had been a long time since she'd been anywhere that she didn't speak any of the language.
A bell hop in a sloppy untucked oxford helped them with their luggage. She tipped him. Probably too much by the way his eyes bugged out, but Maya was distracted. It was a lot like the night before they were to meet Maggie and Gary, or had they gone to see the air-force base first?
Maya paced from the plump looking four poster to the stripped grape wallpaper and to the boudoir before starting over again.
If he spoke English, what would she say? If he didn't speak English what would she say? What would they do to get him out legally? Would he want to go? Would he know her? Some people remembered less of the future than she did. Some remembered more. What if he had run away or something?
Posted by Sebastian on Mar 22, 2010 21:51:00 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
The next morning, a tiny red rented car drove out of Paris. The highway eventually became a modest street, then a winding dirt road. The car kicked up swirls of brown crunchy leaves in its wake. There trees still held onto many of their colorful leaves, but the amount of crunchy brown ones that congregated in piles on the dark grass or danced merrily across the road in swirling droves was nothing to sneeze at. Unless one had hay fever.
Sebastian sneezed into his handkerchief. Again.
His wife was quiet, like she was worried about something.
“Do'dt worry, Baya. He'll be there. Add if he doesd't speak Eglish I cad tradslate for you. I'b sure he wod't hold id agaidst you.”
Could allergies kill? Maya thought not, but then she'd never heard Sebastian sound so bad. Not even when their hands had fused. And he could certainly try to translate, but with his nose leaking down into his throat his English sounded more French by the minute.
There was nothing particularly memorable about the building they parked their little red euro-car in front of. It sagged slightly and oozed blandness. Everything in the yard boasted a patina of time and use. A wooden duck set held together by threadbare string. A deflated ball. Overgrown patches of crab grass surrounded large brown swathes. Further down the hedgerow children shouted and chased each other.
The bell on the front door was the old fashioned type that turned with a key and resonated shrilly. Like so many things in Europe it was a bit of old infused with new. New hinges, old door and bell. Go figure.
Plump and aproned was the woman that opened the door for them. Her cheeks were ruddy and pocked and she wore an apron that had her name embroidered at the hem in a fancy enough script that it was unreadable.
Maya opened her mouth. The woman looked to her expectantly and it was only then that she realized that she had nothing to say to this woman. Whatever Sebastian said got them in the door with minimal discomfort on Maya's part. What was their story? Relatives visiting? Looking to adopt?
It didn't seem to matter because a gaggle of boys came running through the halls. One of them had a frog in his stubby fingers and was chasing the others. The frog wielder just happened to be Jude.
"Hey!"
The frog fist swung toward Maya and Jude's face wavered somewhere between recognition and confusion.
It was a long, heavy moment. And then...
"Ghóst." The accent was unfamiliar, the name was all hers. She dropped to one knee and the frog slipped around her shoulders. There was a long stream of words that sounded happy. The rest of the boys just stood there slackjawed until the amphibian plopped behind them and croaked. Then it was a scramblefest for the frog and all kinds of chatter.
Posted by Sebastian on Mar 23, 2010 21:27:03 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
The plump lady didn't even stay to watch the happy reunion. She apparently had better things to do than watch potential parents interact with the children. Someone had to keep all these mouths fed. Though, she left the door to the kitchen open at such an angle to bounce the sound in to where she would be rolling out pie crusts.
“J'ai eu peur que tous les chose dans le rêve n'existait pas!”
Sebastian cleared his throat and responded gently, “Elle de parle pas le fradçais.” Stupid n's not coming out right. His french was far from beautiful, but it got the point across. To Ghost he added, “He said that he was afraid the things from the dream weren't real.”
“She teaches us a little English,” Jude tried, going slowly. He considered carefully how to say the next line because it was an important one. He didn't want to mess it up. “You come to take me to England?”
Around them the boys seemed uninterested in the reunion. Someone had won the frog scramble (it wasn't the frog) and the chase was on once again. Sebastian's heart broke, seeing the hope in Jude's young face. From the looks of things he was well taken care of here, but an orphanage was no place to grow up, no matter how nice it was.
"I live in American now. Remember? Before the Gulf Stream?" Ghost smoothed Jude's shiny dark hair down with the tips of her fingers. "I don't know what we can do, but we'll do something." Most of the frog group had scrambled away, but there were others. Others that thought the sight of strangers reuniting was odd.
Jude pulled away enough to look Ghost in the eye, but still would not let go. "Other have dreamed, Ghost. Micháel. He is senator. Alonz is in Antarctide."
Four saucer shaped, slightly moist eyes pointed at Sebastian. Soon there were more. A small toe headed boy, a strangely thin boy with a hardly any nose at all... All the eyes said the same thing without actually saying anything.
"Can we keep them?"
Jude wasn't yet the cheeky, annoying controller. He was… cute and sweet and he wasn't as alone as she had imagined him, but he was the first to have proof that he wasn't crazy. Ghost didn't want to let him go. As a young boy, he did want to let go. And he wanted to wipe his hands on his pants and scrape off the cooties. But he also had the knowledge of ten years in his eyes. Several of those years were spent in close contact with the woman he was still claiming with a hug.
"What do we do?" The question was aimed at Sebastian and, though there was conversation between them all the eyes of future (and one present) mutants turned back to the white-haired man.
Posted by Sebastian on Mar 28, 2010 22:03:01 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
730
0
May 18, 2013 11:53:12 GMT -6
Four young pairs of eyes waited for Sebastian to make some kind of decision. One pair of eyes already belonged in his family now. Another three sets was probably more than they could add all at one time. Yet, he could see the need in their eyes; to belong, to be loved.
"Let's go outside and sit id the sudshide. We all have sobe thigs to talk about," he herded them all toward the still open door. A short way from the front steps, he brushed off a spot on the ground. The morning's dew was mostly dried up by the sun at this point in the day, and what little moisture was left would dry quickly. Sebastian sat. The boys followed suit, minus the testing for moisture step.
Sebastian smiled gently, trying to ease some of the worry that seemed to be clouding the faces of the children, “I should idtroduce byself. By dabe is Sebastian. I'b Ghost's husbadd.”
Jude's mouth fell open, “Vraiment?”
The unicorn man chuckled and nodded to confirm, “The future has been chaged. That's just one of the thigs that is differedt.” Perhaps this was too much for boys not even into their teenage years, but they already had ten years worth of knowledge more than they needed to have and they deserved to know this.
“There was a virus that started it all; the sickdess, the weather changes, add the wars. The virus was destroyed before it ever got released, so done of that will ever happedd.”
There was some shifting and glances exchanged between the three boys.
A small voice they hadn't yet heard piped up, “Rien? Pas de tout?” None of it? At all?