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.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Apr 11, 2010 20:13:07 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
A nervy laugh, maybe a good sign. At least Locke accepted that something had told Tarin that information. "I hate that name," he said, hesitating to breath even. Was it smart for him to ask Tarin to give him what he wanted? Locke had been questioning his judgment ever since the train pulled into New York City. Well, maybe longer than that. Part of his longing was that he still needed his dad's guidance. He was only sixteen after all, not sixty like everyone back in San Francisco liked to joke.
But even if it was smart, could he ask for it? The request wasn't officially said yet, only vaguely suggested, and already he was getting a hint of what happened earlier. His throat was clenching up on him. To ask Tarin to do it would be to admit that maybe there was something that goes on after death. Could he handle having his beliefs turned on their ear? As much as Locke hated to be wrong, in this situation finding out he was right would be worse. Someone very wise once said that all hope is false. It means to want something that you cannot reach by yourself, and it is also foolish to think that someone else might bring it to you. After all if someone can make you happy they can also make you unhappy.
"Is it even ok to ask that?" he asked. Locke did not mean if it would be alright with Tarin. Clearly the guy depended on people asking him to raise the spirits or whatever mumbo jumbo goes on in a place like this. It wasn't even a question of Tarin's ethics. Locke wanted to know if it was alright to get something he wanted. After all, he had been selfish in taking this vacation in some ways.
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Apr 11, 2010 20:29:58 GMT -6
Mutant God
DodgerBlue
Straight
3,064
9
Oct 1, 2024 4:52:47 GMT -6
Jules
”I had to deal with every substitute teacher I ever had thinking I was a female. Apparently ‘Tarin’ isn’t all that popular with the male set. My middle name is James, though, and my brothers always called me TJ growing up…so I can’t empathize with you on the name game.” It was veering a little off topic, but keeping things deadly serious didn’t usually help matters like these.
Tarin had been honest with his offer to Locke, the kid had to be ready to see this thing. If he wasn’t, it would break him. Tarin knew it for a fact, it wasn’t fun to think you were crazy. It wasn’t fun to have everyone telling you that you were crazy. Especially if you weren’t
Tarin’s powers didn’t let him into Locke’s head, but he’d been in the same place before, trying to battle old demons that simply wouldn’t go away. When Locke asked him if it was okay to ask, Tarin shrugged his shoulders and thought long and hard before he opened his mouth.
”Is it okay for me to give it to you, even if you think you want it? Is it okay for me to do this at all? Are these things that should stay unspoken and unrealized?”
The question was open ended, it could have meant a million things, all of which Tarin hoped he could at least lend a little insight. The spirit was watching intently, no doubt waiting to see the way things would turn. Tarin posed him a mental question.
What about you? Is this what you want?[/I]
The spirit nodded his head, answering out loud with words only Tarin could hear, “It would turn his world upside down, if he wanted it.” The spirit shrugged, “But maybe that’s what he needs, he‘s never much gotten what he really wanted. ”
Tarin looked at the boy, still looking more lost than anyone the Medium had seen in a long time, ”All you have to do is ask. It’s okay to be a little selfish sometimes, when it’s something you need.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Apr 11, 2010 20:49:40 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
A soft groan from the ground, a little rippling in the mud. The tension was so high. His mouth had become well suited to holding in words and secrets, his face had settled into a stoic, and at times apathetic, expression so often his jaw did not hurt if he frowned. Pretending that everything was fine with him, that he was ok when he really wasn't, had gotten easier then dealing with anything. Locke might scorn Kendra for acting as if he was not a mutant, but he was hardly any better. Words were forming on his tongue. Individual sounds melting and solidifying into letters, and letters into words. He just had to get it out of his mouth.
Locke placed the soda down on the ground, looking at Tarin intently. Worn out high tops bordered the battered backpack and half-drunk coke. He didn't even realize that he had drunk that much. Locke had to respect Tarin. The guy knew a lot. Did all this extra knowledge come from the almost death of his wife? After all the teen and the adult had so much in common, but Locke did not know, or even believe half of what Tarin did. The explanations Tarin gave at first made no sense. It was all vague and non-commital. What did matter was that Tarin said he could be selfish.
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Apr 12, 2010 18:25:05 GMT -6
Mutant God
DodgerBlue
Straight
3,064
9
Oct 1, 2024 4:52:47 GMT -6
Jules
“Do it.” Two little words that spoke epic volumes about the kid sitting in the recliner. It was a brave thing Locke had just asked Tarin to do, especially considering the fact that the kid didn’t really believe that his dead father was in the room. ”Let’s go to the back. I don’t like people on the street to see this part.”
He led, and Locke followed to the slightly garish back groom. Tarin supposed some of the decoration was over the top now that he’d gone completely legit, but he and Lee simply hadn’t had the energy to change anything. The stupid crystal ball was still on the table and Tarin grabbed it, setting it on the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from this area. The curtain was pulled so the whole thing was visible. ”Sorry for all the theatrics…people usually expect a certain something from a place like this. Me telling them I’m the real deal isn’t usually enough.”
Tarin nodded his head, satisfied with his explanation ”I’m going to do this slowly.” he said, ”If you want me to stop, tell me.” he said, then looked to the spirit. The older man nodded and Tarin took a deep breath.
”My eyes might do something funny…” he muttered, not knowing exactly how much energy it was going to take to solidify this particular spirit. The whole eye thing tended to freak people out, though, and his sunglasses were back at the apartment.
He waited for Locke to give some sign he understood, and when it came, Tarin narrowed his eyes slightly, concentrating. What used to take serious work to achieve was almost second nature now, and the Medium strengthened the link between himself and the spirit of Locke’s father, funneling his own life energy into the spectral form. Slowly, bit by bit, the form started to grow opaque. The spirit played his part well, allowing Tarin complete control of the link.
Slowly the medium worked, pushing energy and solidity into the man bit by bit, until he stood in the middle of the room every bit as real as Tarin and Locke.
It was quiet…almost too quiet.
”I’m going to go up front.” The older man said quietly, ”Just come up if you need me.”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Apr 12, 2010 20:50:14 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
The theatrical props that Tarin brushed off had the reverse effect on Locke than the shop owner actually intended. It was just so.. cliché, and to Locke seemed to scream “I’m trying to hard!” People might expect it, but for him it would be more convincing for there to be nothing there. A crystal ball, fancy curtains… all could be a distraction, smoke and mirrors. Getting it out of the way put Locke a bit more at ease and helped a little with the pit in his stomach that happened upon seeing all the cheese. Locke still was not entirely sure that Tarin could bring his dad back. He also wasn’t sure that his dad would want to see him.
He could care less about what happened with Tarin’s eyes. After all the kid had one dead eye that he had to look at every day. What could Tarin’s do that would bother him? Not that it made much of a difference. The Californian just wanted him to get started. This waiting and explanation was just torture. And yet he could not help but be afraid. Ghosts and spirits can’t possibly be real. If they weren’t then his dad could not show up, even if he wanted to. If they were, and his dad did show, what would Locke say? It’s one thing to think of things to say, and questions to ask when you’re on your own, an entirely different thing when the person you miss the most is right in front of you.
It was like watching a three dimensional photograph being photographed right before his eyes. Air had to be getting into his lungs, because the pain from earlier wasn’t there, but Locke couldn’t feel it. He could not feel most things that were just normal human body functions. Did he blink? Was he wobbling when where he stood? Locke’s insides were being hollowed out until he was just a shell, a jack-o-lantern with a flickering candle. His jaw wibbled.
“I missed ya Bug,” his dad finally said. Locke’s lips split into smile that he hadn’t been able to reach for five years. His middle name sucked, and the nickname made absolutely no sense. A bug is hardly welcomed, especially if you are a doctor, or if you work with computers. But even being called a pest can be the greatest thing in the world when you’re called it by someone you love. Bug, to Locke, meant that even after death, his Dad still remembered him, still loved him. “How did you get so tall?”
“Tarin?” Locke croaked. This had been more then he could ask for. He had no idea how long he had just spent with his dad, but it had to stop for now. Otherwise he’d never want to leave that back room.
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Apr 15, 2010 18:13:36 GMT -6
Mutant God
DodgerBlue
Straight
3,064
9
Oct 1, 2024 4:52:47 GMT -6
Jules
While he was in the front of the shop, waiting for Locke to finish having his moment with his dead father, Tarin did something he’d never felt brave enough to do before. He gave over most of the control in the link to the spirit. Something about the man had seemed so trustworthy, so sincere in its hope to simply speak with its child that Tarin couldn’t help it. It felt like the worst kind of eavesdropping to keep the mental connection completely open. It wasn’t an easy exercise, keeping the energy flowing but the psychic link mostly masked, but he managed. Then he mused.
Lock was so shockingly similar to himself, Tarin had to wonder if this was some sort of a sign. He had to wonder, though, if the same advice he’d given Locke made sense in his own situation. Tarin tried to think about what had happened in the camps and shuddered, nausea rolling up in his belly at the mere thought of how much blood had been on the floor of the cave, seeping from under his wife as he held her limp body. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, gathering himself and trying to make sure he didn’t lose the link.
No, his situation was nothing like Locke’s. The boy needed to see his father, needed to say the things that hadn’t been said. Tarin and Lee simply needed to live their lives. There was no reason to go back and dwell on something that, for all intents and purposes, hadn’t happened. Lee was alive, they were back in New York, everything was as it should be. Except it wasn’t. Tarin knew it, but all that he could hope for was that someday it would be. He wasn’t going to bring up what had happened in the camps. He simply wasn’t.
His thoughts and musings continued in that direction for quite some time, and the Medium took that as a sign that things were going well in the back room, it was then he heard Locke’s voice. Immediately, Tarin pushed off from the counter he’d been leaning on and walked through the small corridor.
The spirit was still there, so apparently it’s goal hadn’t been completely met. It didn’t matter, it was probably even a good thing for Locke in the long run.
”Ready to go for now?” he asked, directing the question at both the spirit and the boy. ”I know it’s rough, but it’s probably about that time. My wife gets worried if I’m here to late. Plus, last I checked the rain was letting up.”
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Apr 19, 2010 10:34:04 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
When the medium entered the back room Locke's head was turned downwards, looking up at his dad from behind his hair. He did not want Tarin to see the expression on his face, even if he had borne witness to the melt down earlier. Not that Locke felt that he could look Tarin in the eyes. The man broke him down, challenged his beliefs, proved him wrong, and also had the decency and compassion to let Locke have his father to himself. Locke might never know how big a sacrafice that might have been to Tarin, but he had to know what he'd given to Locke. Unable to trust his voice the Californian simply nodded his head. Something about his body poistion would suggest that he was not entirely ready for this to end. With all the grace of a fish on land Locke untangled his sleeping legs from underneath him. Criss-cross-applesauce is a fine way to sit when you are young and still in grade school. Not so much as you get older.
"Thank you," Hugo said for the two of them, knowing the reason why his son hid his face. Locke stood there feeling more than the usual amount of awkward. A part of him wanted to hug his dad, but he did not dare risk it. Why ruin what just happened with hugging a visual? If nothing else Locke could claim the usual teenage cause that hugging your parents after age ten was, to say the least, embarrassing. Which left Locke having to figure out what to do to Tarin. A handshake was too stiff and formal given what the two had experienced, and a hug was too close and personal for Locke. He didn't do man hugs. The only kind was the family sort. Giving Tarin a hug felt a bit like betrayal since he couldn't hug his dad, who was right in the room with them.
It seemed like forever since he had ducked into the store, trying to escape his bum luck and the storm. He had forgotten entirely about it until Tarin mentioned it. Even his clothes had dried off some. Fingers shaking Locke reached into his pocket and pulled out a film canister. The sound the lid made when it popped off was entirely too loud and too out of place, but it broke the silence of the room.
Posted by Tarin Brooks on Apr 22, 2010 15:24:58 GMT -6
Mutant God
DodgerBlue
Straight
3,064
9
Oct 1, 2024 4:52:47 GMT -6
Jules
There simply wasn’t much to say in a situation like this, everything that needed to be said had been between Locke and the spirit of his father. The spirit who wasn’t actually gone after Tarin took his substance away, just invisible to his son.
The man looked pleased, but the fact that he was still there indicated that he still had things to do before the energy he was made of ran out. It was the strange thing about spirits sometimes. The smallest thing could complete their focus, while something that seemed much bigger didn’t put much of a dent in them.
Locke said thank you and Tarin waved it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. It didn’t even feel right for him to say you’re welcome. This was something too important. No decent human being would have denied Locke what he’d just been given. Definitely not something to accept thanks for.
The boy pulled out the film canister that Hugo had told Tarin about before and the Medium shook his head, ”Nuh uh.” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets and backing towards the door.
”Your old man told me what’s in that canister and if you’re even thinking about trying to pay me for what just happened, get that fool notion out of your head.” Tarin paused a moment to let the words sink in then continued, ”I’m not in this for the money, not anymore. Getting to do it was enough. Besides, trust me…I can use the good karma.”
Come to think of it, there was one more thing Tarin could do for Locke. Pulling out his wallet, the older man pulled out on of his personal cards and held it towards the teen, ”Cell, and home number are on that card. Call if you get in a tight spot, you want to speak to your old man again, or if you just need someone to talk to.” he said, hoping the boy would take the offer of help.
Posted by Locke N. Tori on Apr 26, 2010 17:05:59 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
566
2
Jul 29, 2017 19:08:13 GMT -6
The teen dared to shift his head, hair sliding out of the way so that he could glare at Tarin with a red rimmed eye. He pulled out some money, all tightly wound about itself so that it was hard to tell just how much was there at a glance. "Take it," he insisted, "If for nothing else at least for the coke. Nobody does anything for free." Locke would not be swayed on this issue. His father had taught him to always show his gratitude, and to pay his debts. Tarin gave him his dad, the least Locke could do is give him some money back. "Get your wife some McDonalds or something."
It was a bit of a low dig to try and convince Tarin to accept payment. He thrust his hand with the money out again. Tarin counteracted by shoving at him a business card. Locke raised an eyebrow. Somehow the two had entered into a mafia movie where an exchange was to be made. Locke took the card, holding the money out still. "Thanks. Now take the stupid money."
Posted by Tarin Brooks on May 3, 2010 18:01:07 GMT -6
Mutant God
DodgerBlue
Straight
3,064
9
Oct 1, 2024 4:52:47 GMT -6
Jules
Tarin crossed his arms when Locke tried to insist he take the money. "I told you kid. It wasn't for free...if anyone owes the universe a little good karma it's me." it wasn't going to be enough in the face of stubborn teenage angst. Tarin knew because it would never have been enough for him had their situations been reversed. The kid had his pride. Unfortunately for Locke, Tarin knew what it was like in a city like New York at this age, the kid would need the money more.
"If you knew some of the things I'd done kiddo...you wouldn't be standing here, and I wouldn't blame you. Besides, you made me think of a few things I'd have never come up with on my own." It was true, Tarin would never have realized how desperate his need to move on from what had happened in Romania was had Locke never walked in the door. "Think about it as a level exchange of information. If there's a next time, you can pay me then."
Multicolored hair shook along with Tarin's head and he chuckled at Locke's suggestion and bravado, "I don't need the McDonalds and neither does Lee." he thumbed towards the door, "Now beat feet. The rain stopped and I want to go home. Use that card, any time."