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.
Site adaptation by Sen, Lix, and Tempest. <3
So I got a religious symbol @#%faced. (AV- Magdalene)
He listened to her quietly. By the end of things, he'd opted to have a lot more than she did... Once he got started he had a hard time stopping. He had some weight on her, though, so they were likely about the same. Maybe be was a bit further along.
When she made eye contact, he returned it easily. He wasn't one to shy away from connecting with others. Usually that meant connecting over a few drinks and a shaky bed, and usually it was over something vacuous like what kind of car he had, and if he was buying drinks.
It was a bit different here. Different, but not bad. Not bad at all.
She got back from her shower, and he was getting ready to lay down. She caught sight of his ink, though, and he looked down at the pillow on the floor, shrugging, and opting to take a seat on the bed. "What, the tats? Sure... Uh... This one, right here... For my old man... He was a son of a #$%&*, but I had to remember him somehow. You don't die you leave a mark on the world, right?" He pointed to his inner forearm, a tattoo of a bottle of booze sitting on a steel beam. "He built stuff, and liked to drink. What can I say?" He chuckled. "This ones, a tribal. I was drunk... That one, too. Liked this one more, though... I got that one with my unit..." It was a leaf-looking symbol with a sword through three lighting bolts on his bicep.
"Heh... To see the rest I'd have to take my shirt off... Prolly got... what, fifty at least?" He'd lost count after the neck tattoo.
With little paused, he just opted to take it off. There was no way around it, he was ripped; He looked like he was practically chiseled from stone. None of it was excessive, either; it was all evenly proportioned; a product of military science deciding which workout routines would make a flexible, fast, and long lasting killing machine. Only half of him had any tattoos on it, though both halves had their scars.
"You prolly don't hang out with a lot of dudes inked up like me, huh?"
"You don't die you leave a mark on the world, right?"
She tilted her head slightly, understanding but curious. An old standard view perhaps?
"He built stuff, and liked to drink. What can I say? This ones, a tribal. I was drunk... That one, too. Liked this one more, though... I got that one with my unit..."
She studied each piece of work shown to her with intense attention, soaking in every detail and line as much as she could before moving onto the next. They were fascinating... both as a reflection of the individual who chose to wear them, and the ones who had done the work. She liked to think that if she paid enough attention she could get a feel for what type of person the artwork belonged too.
"Heh... To see the rest I'd have to take my shirt off... Prolly got... what, fifty at least?"
She had been about to ask, unashamedly too, but he beat her to it. She studied them silently, focusing on both tattoo's and scars as she went.
"You prolly don't hang out with a lot of dudes inked up like me, huh?"
Finally, she spoke. "Have met many with them, actually... but not for this long." She sat back a little. At some point, she'd started leaning in and was bordering on invading what was left of his personal space.
Not that he had much, given his personality. "Polynesia... Africa.. Thailand.. New Zeland." She listed off a few of the various places she had been in her life, without going into too much detail. "Many have culture for tattoos. I find them fascinating. Meaning and style differ so greatly." Magdalene pointed at one of the ones he'd shown her.
"Witnessed part of ceremony once where they were finishing one large tattoo. All down the shoulders and back... Instead of needle a sharpened stick is used and they aggressively tap ink into the skin."
She itched to touch one. Would they have raised lines like a scar? Would it feel different than normal skin? She shook herself back onto her original train of thought.
"Have not met many like you specifically, though. Unique personality."
She fixated on a rather large scar on him, and became distracted. ".... May I heal that?" She pointed at it.
Huh... It was strange... She stared at him in complete wonder, but at the same time had seen the world about as much as he had. Sure, the places she went weren't filled with either death or hookers, cept Thailand, but she'd seen a lot. He noticed her getting closer. His body noticed her getting closer. He stayed still.
"Meh... Put me in some of those places, and I'll prolly end up with one too." He smiled flatly as he turned to her, revealing a gun shot scar on his chest. He'd gotten a tattoo of a skull tattoo with the mouth open on it. "Like I said... I see it, I gotta experience it. No inhibitions." He could tell he wanted to touch him. Not out of desire, but curiosity, but it made the hairs on his skin raise in excitement.
She asked if she could heal his scare. He tilted his head a little bit. "You can heal those too, huh? Wouldn't it hurt?"
He thought for a moment. "Let me think on that... I dunno if I like having it around, you know? Sometimes it's nice to have a reminder that you're alive."
"Meh... Put me in some of those places, and I'll prolly end up with one too."
She chuckled. "May have to perform pilgrimage for some... many have very significant meanings. Most do not share lightly."
"You can heal those too, huh? Wouldn't it hurt?"
She lifted her gaze to lock eyes with him again. "I can heal almost anything." She was serious, and it carried through her voice. There were very few things she couldn't do to improve the physical body.
"It doesn't hurt, more like... pleasant tingle. A tickle." She withdrew slightly, but not enough to hinder how much detail she could see of his tattoos.
"Let me think on that... I dunno if I like having it around, you know? Sometimes it's nice to have a reminder that you're alive."
Her lips pursed and her brows drew together slightly, but she nodded. It was ultimately his choice. "... Would not know. I do not scar. Cannot tattoo either. Skin reject ink."
She lifted her hands slightly as if to prove it. There wasn't a mark or blemish on her body, none that stayed around at least.
She thought back to something he had sad only a moment ago... No inhibitions. See it, do it. What was it like to live like that? Was it a different kind of excitement? She puzzled over that question for a moment silently, before looking to meet his eyes again.
He nearly balked at the idea of taking a pilgrimage. THAT... wasn't his cup of tea. They said everyone was a believer in the fox hole. All he really believed was that he was more dangerous that who ever was trying to kill him. He'd yet to be proven wrong. Hell, he still had plans to kill the last son of a #$%&* that had crossed him.
He wasn't really thinking about that, though. Not this second. He was staring at her, as she presented her completely clean hands to him... He hadn't thought of that. Had he ever talked to someone at length who wasn't broken by the world at least in some way?
Here this woman was, though. Clean. Un#$%&ing touched. Amazing. Beautiful, honestly.
In response to his last statement, she was lost in thought for a moment. He watched, someone confused. She was still so close.
"Would you teach me?"
He tilted his head back a bit, closing his eyes a bit and looking at her at a bit of an angle. Yes... Yes he #$&*ing could.
"To feel alive? Yeah... Yeah, I think I could do that." He leaned in slowly. It wasn't a big gap between them. In a quick eternity he pressed his lips against hers, slow and patient. He knew how to kiss. He'd kissed a lot of people. Most of them hadn't even charged him for it.
He felt the pleasure of a soft tingle on his lips. She would have to be careful. He was greedy.
"To feel alive? Yeah... Yeah, I think I could do that."
On the outside she was calm as a placid lake, watching and waiting. On the inside, she was freaking out. This was a learning experience! One she'd never had any personal experience with but had heard and read a great deal about. Biological functions... different reactions. Varying experiences from individual people that never seemed to match fully.
And here she was about to encounter it first hand!
He kissed her, she spent a few seconds mentally noting down how it felt. Warm... some pressure. There wasn't any sort of instantaneous reaction, however... her knees weren't weak, there weren't butterflies in her stomach. Where was the fine line between what she was supposed to feel and what the average reaction was?
.. Maybe she was overthinking this. She pulled away slightly because even in her excitement she needed to let him know something.
"...Should mention. I cannot control my ability. Cannot turn it off. Me touching you... this... it will alter you." She wasn't sure how much, but she knew that it was her responsibility to inform him of it.
Her feelings had seeped into her expression though, a mix between determination and a deep thirst to learn something new.
He kissed her. It was magical for him, honestly. He'd never felt a feeling like that before. That tingle. It was like he was on some sort of drug. She pulled away a bit, said some sort of warning, he barely registered it.
"Somehow I think I'll make it out fine." He smirked as he leaned in to kiss her once more. He was caught up. He wanted more. He kissed and kissed again, slowly moving a hand up to gently grasp the back of her neck and pull her in closer. His fingers tingled too, almost like they had energy in them, but he'd been sure to disperse that into the bed before making the call to get intimate.
That much was instinctive to him at this point. Muscle memory.
The rest wasn't. He didn't move as fast as if he were taking the necessary steps to get some drunken floozy around the bases. He didn't feel hurried. No rush. Hell, he didn't figure what was behind that robe left anything to the imagination.
Part of him knew he definitely shouldn't have been doing this... He also shouldn't have neglected to report actually taking custody of her in order to see if Poseidon wanted her first.
He cared about neither of those right now... Hell, he was starting to think he might want to keep her at this point. That was an odd thought.
He leaned in to kiss her again and this time she joined in with her own energy. Not quite knowing what to do exactly, she simply moved to match what he was doing with his lips while allowing herself to finally reach out and touch his skin.
Her fingers landed around his collarbone first, before traveling up toward his shoulders. In her wake, she left behind that pleasant tingle, as well as clean patches of skin as various scars and blemishes vanished.
How long had it been before she'd touched someone like this? Simple skin to skin contact with no healing intention behind it? ... years. She generally made a point of not touching someone without their permission simply because of what she could do.
After a bit, she started to get a feel for it. Where the science behind it became less important than the feeling of it.
It was definitely warm. He was warm. Aside from a muted pain from having her power activate, she could feel a tingle of her own racing through her skin. Was this what it felt like to others when she touched them?
She mimed his movement by settling one of her own hands on the side of his neck, just under his ear, while her other hand settled on a far shoulder.
If this was what a simple kiss felt like, she wanted to know more. She broke the kiss for just a moment, "Tell me what to do."
Yeah... This was nice. He felt a reaction he hadn't felt since he'd had his first experiences in these sort of things. The tingle when she touched him... did he feel that when he was a teenager, fumbling around with some other teenager, figuring things out? He didn't recall, but he imagined it that way.
Maybe... Was this special? S&^%, this was special, wasn't it?
She kissed him back, he patiently allowed things to get more complex. She was curious, he was here to show her everything she wanted to know.
She broke the kiss. She asked him what to do. He smirked, looking her up and down momentarily, and spoke firmly.
"Hold on tight." They were going for a ride. He leaned in again, this time moving further to take this down to the bed.
Early morning light was just barely starting to creep through the blinds sheltering the room from the outside world. Magdalene was up... In fact, she hadn't slept at all. The previous night had been exciting, exhilarating, and very educational.
At some point, Cole had dozed off. She'd spent some time simply laying there watching him sleep, marveling over how he'd become fresh skinned during their interactions the night before. The artwork etched into his skin she had just been marveling over were gone, replaced by new skin without a hint of wear. Baby smooth and taut over his impressive physique.
At some point, she'd gotten up and headed for the bathroom to quietly freshen up. She had bled a bit through the use of her power, but not enough to justify a shower. She figured that the noise might wake him up anyway, and given all he had taught her last night he probably needed the sleep.
Magdalene stared herself down in the bathroom mirror, bare to the world since she had abandoned the robe somewhere within the room a while ago. This time though, when she looked at herself she wasn't just giving herself a quick appraisal to make sure she was ready for the day.
This time she was really looking at herself. Last night she had indulged in something that for all intents was against her vows. Some small part of herself should have felt ashamed of it... fearful of it, and yet... she was not.
She was more curious than ever. What else was out there that she hadn't experienced yet? What was she missing? Right then and there she decided on her next course of action, and for the first time in a long time, it seeped in selfishness.
She was going to go out into the world and do all of the things she wanted to do. She was going to live a little, as Father Alphaeus often told her to do before she would need to return to the monastery. She was going to do this for herself, willfully and happily.
Quietly, she dressed in a clean, semi-decent outfit from the pile Cole had purchased. She folded the rest and left them in a chair. She wasn't sure if he would want them, or do anything with them, but she most certainly did not need to drag around half a closet full of items on her adventure.
She pondered on whether or not to leave a note for him, even if to just thank him for saving her the previous night. On one hand, it felt awkward. Not genuine. On the other, she didn't want him thinking she'd left because of him.
In the end, she decided to leave a simple note explaining herself, and that she would be returning to the embassy within a week.
On the way out the door, she happened to notice that his wallet had fallen from his pants pocket onto the floor, and was open for all to see. She paused only a moment to snag what looked like a business card from within, before heading back toward the door. She left the door card inside the room after letting herself out, picked a direction, and headed off in a direction she assumed was the busier part of the city with a bounce in her step.