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 Pharoah Dynasty
An ancient sorceress is on a quest to bring her long-lost warrior-king to the modern era in a bid for global domination. Can the heroes of the modern world stop her before all is lost?
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.
The shifter was cold, the mansion grounds were covered in snow and most of the trees were bare except for the pines. He hated sitting in the pine trees. Sure, they had proper cover from the wind but when you sit on a limb you get sap. Everywhere, and if there was thing Carrick had no interest in doing was cleaning sap out of his feathers again. Last time it threw off his flying for days till it was out.
With the tracker on his ankle he couldn’t shift or leave the grounds so the only ‘freedom’ he had was being able to fly the property. Things were getting repetitive. He woke up, showered, ate, went to class, fell asleep, rinse and repeat. Should he have been in class? Yes, would he get in trouble for it later? Bet. Carrick however thought he deserved a break. He earned it. Managing to jump up two letter grades in most of his classes just because he set the bar so low before, also because house arrest.
Turning into the wind his goggles blocked his eyes from drying out but not the cold. He shivered slightly turning his wings to bask in the sun. His bronzed wings dispersed some of the heat to the rest of his body as he flew the grounds looking for something different.
Carrick had been trying to fly a different path every day but a cage was still a cage and he was frustrated. So much so he wanted to yell. Roar even. So he did. While he was flying the Irishman inhaled and roared loudly pouring his frustrations into the roar.
To Lenna, the snow seemed strange. It was not something that she got much of in Cartagena, Colombia. December was not all that cold. What they got was humidity and rain. If it ever snowed, it was a rarity. And she could not remember it happening at all. At least, not where she stayed: apparently there was sometimes snow in mountains. But she did not count this.
Was snow so shocking because she had never seen it? No. She had watched the movies, seen snow. Some of the girls even liked that old one with the Bing Crosby man, where the entire premise was getting a little snow on Christmas!
No, it was shocking because Lenna did not like the cold. She was heavily dressed for the weather and she did not like it. Big navy blue parka, red knitted cap, dark orange gloves, blue jeans, and navy winter boots were all things she wore. And people at the mansion had insisted the colors were all proper and matched. Her red and black and white patterned scarf rounded out the look, and she knew in her heart it was the most garish thing about the whole ensemble, but a tiny bit of mismatching was fine once in a while if it was cute.
It was cold. She hated the cold. But she wanted to move, to get out, stop studying and walk. Clear her head.
Her head got a whole lot clearer when she heard the roar. She looked up. And up, and up. There was a flying boy.
She cupped her hands around her mouth and roared right back at him. Because why not?
There was a slight satisfaction hearing yourself in the echoes after a yell. Even more satisfying was to hear his roar. In the wild Lion’s roar to mark their territory or to call out to other members of their pride, while Carrick didn’t have a pride his other forms were sure this space was his. All the light touched on the mansion grounds was his.
Carrick’s pointed ears twitched from the sound of another roar. It wasn’t his echo and his instincts told him to look for the source and call back. He started the process but only mmanaged to stop at the looking for the source. That was until he locked onto the red knitted cap. Responding to her roar with another Carrick inhaled and let loose another one before circling her from overhead. He was the king of the shouting contests and he’d get the last roar in.
He dove and flapped his wings a few times as his boots touched down in the snow to a loud crunch”What did ya say about me mother?” he said folding his arms and trying not to smirk.
Another roar? Oh, and there the beastie was flying overhead. This amused Lenna.
‘I could be in danger,’ she thought glibly.
‘No. Not me.’ She followed up. The mansion was mostly safe. There had been that boy with the hedge maze, and also that one who had objected to her carrying around her katana, but— he had changed his tune rapidly. People knew better than to challenge her now. She did not like bullies.
The flying boy landed in front of her, and said something about his mother and what she had said about her?
Lenna’s brow crept up a hair. Was he teasing her or had she actually said something offensive in whatever roar dialect this mutant utilized?
She tapped her foot impatiently, once, twice, then cupped her hands around her mouth and leaned into another roar. Quite loud. Point blank.
Afterwards, she appraised him for his reaction. Mildly, she added ”I said that. I apologize if I offended. I do not usually speak —“ with one hand, Lenna gestured at, well, at all of him.
Had he wanted the last roar? Maybe she had one-upped him. Lenna was terribly bad about doing that. It had been a running thing with Ty.
”Carrick?” he asked as she gestured to him. ”Well ya don’t speak it very well at least.” he stared at the girl with his tail flicking behind him the way a cat’s would when it was toying with its food.
”If you were trying to get me attention,” he said with his arms unfolding, ”Yer supposed to use less inflection. Less insulting.” he turned away from her so she didn’t go deaf and he inhaled and let out another roar giving him the last roar. He didn’t know why but he felt the need to get the last roar in. ‘Fight?’ his beast form asked in the back of his mind. He ignored it though.
”Also ya need to project it if yer gonna scare off any threats… you are?” he asked turning his attention back to her his mismatched eyes giving her a once over.
>> ”Carrick?” he asked as she gestured to him. ”Well ya don’t speak it very well at least.”
Did not speak it well. Ha ha, he was toying with her. She got this. Clearly one not well versed in giant bird man screeches would have difficulty being fluent in it. It was not as if it were French or Spanish.
Lenna rolled her eyes a little, but not without good humor. She could take the jokes. Yes she realized some of the time, her seriousness towards herself and her appearances bordered on ego.
>> ”If you were trying to get me attention,” he said. ”Yer supposed to use less inflection. Less insulting.”
”Guess I have to screech more often.” She said quietly. Teasing. ”To learn.”
He roared again. Very loud, point blank. She rubbed at an ear.
>> ”Also ya need to project it if yer gonna scare off any threats… you are?”
”Contemplating selling hearing protection, such as they have at shooting ranges. For when people are near you.” She said wryly. Then opted for a smile, something she was working on, to let him know she was simply making a smal joke at his expense, all in good fun. Rather than being the, how do you say it, bitch?
It was an effort to put expression on her face some days. Too much time in the camp of literal child assassins where they took themselves too seriously most of the time.
”But if you were asking for a name, my name is Lenna. I am... sort of new here. Or at least, a month or two fresh? Exploring. Looking for the... interesting.” She had seen him giving her the once over. She returned the favor with a quick up-down assessment of her own. He seemed interesting. ”It is nice to meet you, Carrick.” Her accent flavored his name, with a Spanish flair.
The shifter smirked, he won the shouting match and he now knew someone who was planning on selling hearing protection. He wondered if he could get a cut of the profit, create a more of a need for them. Be a nice little racket. ”Ya got a business card?” he asked with a smirk.
”Interesting? Nope, none of that here. Not now at least, too cold to put on a show.” Carrick shrugged basking in the once over she gave him. His wings might have opened a bit during it. ”Ole.” he snapped in response to the rolled R’s in when she said his name.
”Lenna.” he said quickly adding as much accent of his own to her name. ”Pleasure ta meet ya.” he said giving a slight wave.
”Skipping class as well today?” he asked curiously.
Why would she have a business card? She was not a business woman. She worked fast food.
And he really missed the cue, had he not... interesting. With the look. Him? No? Okay. She wrote him off as one who misses social cues and lumped him in with herself.
She shrugged at the question. ”I have many classes and many free periods. Should I truly worry which is which? But. Eh.” She made a face. ”biology and general science. I just do not see the point...”
“What are YOU skipping?” she asked.
Truthfully, Lenna was not much interested in skipping the classes. Not unless she was behind and needed to study on her own. But those classes...
”English, already speak it don’t I? Pretty good, might add.” he said with a smirk, ”Though as far as classes to skip think yers might be the better of the two to skip.” he said frowning.
”Me ex’ teaches it now and well. No thank you.” he said shaking his head. It was a long story and he didn’t really plan on elaborating unless he was asked. Liz and him dated a long time ago even if it seemed like only a few months ago. He was still pretty bitter about her moving on him without letting him know. Carrick still blamed his shifted form for scaring her off.
”Figured I’d go fer a fly and make it up later. Was probably gonna end up sleeping in there anyways.” he said with another shrug.
”Been finding a lot of the interesting?” he asked curiously, ”maybe point me in that direction.” he didn’t want to go back to his next class, a half day of school was good enough for him anyways.
”Pretty well,” She corrected him. Though it probably came off more as if she were agreeing with the boy. He kept talking, at least.
>> ”Though as far as classes to skip think yers might be the better of the two to skip.”
”Oh?” Lenna said. Mildly interested.
>> ”Me ex’ teaches it now and well. No thank you.”
”My.” She said. Then caught herself being a B*^%* and correcting his English again, so she salvaged it by adding. ”Oh my.” Like some sort of C3PO person.
>> ”Figured I’d go fer a fly and make it up later. Was probably gonna end up sleeping in there anyways.” He explained.
”A wise decision. Very noble.” She nodded. Much less difficulties for the ex running the class. Not having to kick the wing boys butt.
Had she been finding a lot of the interesting.
”No. I liked the hedge maze for one minute then a boy tried trapping me inside. I think that maybe I will go shoot some things in the danger room. That is interesting, at least.” She gave him an explanatory look and added. ”They do not like me shooting things outside the danger room. I made that mistake exactly one time.”
Her eyes drifted to the sky. ”If I ever figure this power of mine out, I should learn how to fly. It would be an optimal vantage point. Tactically speaking.”
The shifter ignored her need to correct his English, he spoke it, read it and could write it.... okay he was pretty sure he could still write it no problem. He hadn’t picked up a so much as an eraser in a week it was a point of pride now and he hated to ruin the streak.
”Oh you dated her too?” he shook his head, ”Man, it just keeps getting better!” he rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. Nothing he could do about it now. ”Wise and nobal... sums me up just right.” he said puffing out his chest and putting his hands on his hips giving him a ‘Peter Pan’ look when he flew.
He was going to ask about the maze more and who was dumb enough to try and keep someone in a maze. They always had a way out, up. He was going to but the comment about her shooting caught his attention. ”Ya dense?” he asked grinning, ”It’s a school... fer kids! Whatare ya? Me father?” he asked shaking his head, ”Bet they were pretty upset. Was it the iceman that caught ya? Detention or his ‘training’?” Carrick used air quotes. Punching and kicking wasn’t exactly a punishment. Only if he was forced to do it sober.
”Oh?” he got distracted by her next comment about wanting to fly. ”Ya sprout wings?” he asked knowing that they were the only way to ‘fly’. He circled her over head and laughed, ”Does have it’s advantages, bit annoying flying over shiny stuff though.” he said tapping the side of his eyes.
”Not supposed to use the Danger Room fer a bit, they said I made too many of me and they were a pain to get rid of.” he said smirking spotting a squirrel in a tree across the grounds. His stomach growled at it then he looked back to her. ”Not my fault people can’t handle that much perfection.” he said. He couldn’t either. They were @@@@s.
>>oh you dated her too man it just keeps getting better and better.
Lenna’s eyebrow arched. She had no clue what he had been given to make him believe she had dated his ex. What had she said to that effect? She had simply expressed interest. Like a robot might. She however, was wise enough to let his misunderstandings slide by without comment.
He flexed. She flexed her mind, focusing on a distant point. A blade of grass. The orange they usually filled her field of vision narrowed to encompass just that one blade of grass. Orange in, orange out. She flexed her mind as she ignored him. Like a cat, flexing its claws. It was one way to practice concentration that did not offend people often. Unless they found out.
She had said her part, about the hedge maze and the Getting lost. And guns. He said his part about calling her dense and his father. Under her breath, she noted the anatomical difficulties presented therein. But he kept talking. Her impression was growing very clear on what kind of nice and noble person he was~
Detention, or his training.
She shrugged. ”I spent an hour under a freezing waterfall to clear my mind after I called him,” She, too, did the air quotes. Had she used them right? ”%*%^ing stupid. It really was good practice for focusing the mind.” She added the last part serenely.
Then she commented on her power, and flight, which nabbed his interest like fire takes to dry wood.
He asked if she could sprout wings. She was about to say no, when he took to the air and flew around above her. Lenna waited for him to land, so she could explain everything to him. However, he explained why he was banned from the danger room first.
And perfection?
She chuckled darkly to herself. ”Yes. The world can only handle so much of some people. Too much, and it does not know how to handle itself. Anyways. No, I do not grow wings. I move things with my mind. I could move myself.” She explained, Colombian accent thick.
Posted by Carrick on Feb 13, 2021 19:14:11 GMT -6
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”Sounds... boring... and wet.” he said a little confused, was Iceman into anime training? He wondered if he could ask to fly in an altered gravity field then decided it probably be more work than fun. He had flown against the wind before it was the same right?
She agreed with him but he didn’t really feel like she sold it. He folded his arms while still in the air his tail flicked in her direction not sure what to make of her. Other than she couldn’t really fly. Even with her powers. Not fly like he could at least. She was another grounder who could experience a form of floating.
”I can do that too.” he grinned smugly, ”It’s called waving.” he said still flying. ”Ya going to the danger room now?” he asked curiously.
”Could always tag along. If ya want to fly.” he said lowering himself, ”I can take on students.” he didn’t know if he could teach her how to fly seeing as she didn’t have wings but he wasn’t going to tell her that.
He made a joke that lessened her comment of moving things with her mind, by using similar language to imply waving his hand was the same thing. The same thing as moving an object solely through mental manipulation. He was a cheeky bird boy, was he not?
She matched his smug grin, and crossed her arms over her chest.
”I do not think so, no.” She replied to his question about the danger room. She was not going there. And she was not smuggling him in. He clearly wished for that. To tag along.
”Heh. Students. Would you like to learn Krav Maga, or how to throw knives? I would gladly take students. For the moment, I will pass on the flying training however. I thank you for the offer.”
It was possible he could teach her of wind resistance, or a great many things that dealt with flight. But at the moment, her flight was a pipe dream, and far too different from his own. She felt he was of a similar mind, and having a jab at her expense. Was she doing the same, regarding the offer to train him in martial arts? No.
No, it would be a fun thing to teach him such things. Plenty of reasons to let him fall on the ground. He might even learn something. Like how to fall properly.
She offered fighting instead of Danger Room shenanigans. He made a show of thinking on it. Why was everyone trying to teach him how to fight? He already knew how to fight his Da drilled it into him at an early age. In fact when the O’Conners were in town most of the pubs closed their doors all three of them in a building meant someone was going to throw something. Either a fist, or a bottle.
”I’m good on the fighting but I’m always up fer throwing sharp things. Used ta do it when I was with the circus. The fighting and the throwing.” he gave a little flip in the air then landed tossing his hands up like he just did an impressive feat.
”Yer loss, no one flies like I do.” he said thumbing his chest. No one bragged about flying like he did either.
”So ya have a preferred tree or do ya throw them inside the mansion?” his mischievous grin widened. Knife throwing in the mansion could be fun.