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 alexstarkova on May 24, 2010 16:02:19 GMT -6
Guest
"This is so stupid!" he cackles in reply, almost breathlessly. He couldn't explain further. His lungs were absolutely burning, which wasn't helping his uncontrollable laughter. Actually, it hurt quite badly, and he was soon only capable of gasping nastily for breath, still unable to stop laughing. He ran out of air, soon enough, and that forced him to calm down, thankfully.
"Uugh..." That was really about as verbose as he was able to be, for a stretch of time. He closed his eyes, pressed the back of his head against the cool, wet rooftop, and worked on recovering from that nasty bout of... insanity? Yeah, probably insanity. He'd laughed himself out of oxygen so badly, his head was spinning a little bit, and he felt like... well, he felt like he'd feel better if he just went to sleep, but that would have been a bad idea, given the situation.
"Truce?" he finally choked out. "We're safe here... and I don't think I could stand up if I tried." It seemed like a good enough idea. He wasn't even thinking far enough ahead to consider a possible rejection of his offer. Having said his piece, Ilari allowed himself to relax further, thinking he was perfectly safe. Even if the other declined his offer, it didn't seem like he had the ability to cause much of a fight, anyway. They were both exhausted.
The only reply to Ilari's laughing exclamation was an infuriated huff from the Brazilian. His eyes narrowed even deeper to annoyance, obviously failing to see whatever humor the older man had gleaned out of the situation. This was not funny, this was painful, depressing, and overwhelmingly agitating. Honestly, the fact that the Russian had actually helped him was probably the only thing that was stopping Davi from further hurting himself by getting up and attempting to beat the living daylights out of the other figure. Well, of course, the fact that he wasn't entirely sure an attempt at actually getting up off of the soaked concrete of the building would work was a factor, as well. Looking a fool when he was trying to be intimidating in such a way would be utterly counter productive, after all.
It was some time before the mention of 'truce', and that immediately had the slightly-calmed younger man snapping in outright fury, "Truce?! You ask for a truce. You, the one who try to steal my music, and then can not even defend yourself against retaliation!? What makes you think that I would even consider that?!" By the time he was done with that tirade, short as it was, he was already panting again, shaking heavily. It was within another second, however, that his eyes snapped wide, and he was sitting up to check on his MP3 player. Oh no... What if it had gotten wet and broken? Ilari would be either promising to replace it, or a dead man... The Brazilian's fury would be outright unparalleled. All he could do was panic, then, and check it, hoping against hope that it was alright. It had been so expensive, and it was so much a large part of his life.
Posted by alexstarkova on May 25, 2010 22:39:12 GMT -6
Guest
Ilari was glad that he'd calmed down by the time the other man had started to talk. He was all prepared to give a proper answer to the question of "why" when one little detail caught his attention.
"Music?" he questioned. "I was trying to steal your money. I didn't even know you were listening to music until it caught me." He paused a moment to catch his breath. Really, he couldn't think of anything further to say. The other man didn't want a truce, even though it seemed like it would benefit the both of them. Evidently, neither of them wanted to get caught...
"You ran from the cops, too," he pointed out, voice a bit quieter. "Why didn't you talk to them? You could have had me." He sat up, a bit woozy. "But, instead, we both ran... Why?"
Why, indeed. Was the other man a criminal, too? Certainly, he couldn't have been a seasoned one, wearing such nice clothes in such a terrible neighborhood. Or, maybe, he'd committed one serious crime, robbed a bank or something. Maybe he was using that stolen money to buy this precious music (it had to cost a lot. Why else would he care about it so much?) and he used the same money to buy nice clothes? Either way, he had some reason to avoid the cops, and that meant the two of them shouldn't have been fighting each other. Another ally in his continuing attempt to avoid the cops would be a valuable ally indeed.
Davi's attention was taken from his MP3 player at that single word. "Money?!" It was an incredulous shout, shortly followed by Davi taking his own bout of uproarious laughter. He shuffled a bit, reaching into his pocket and tossing his wallet to Ilari. His empty wallet. There was a quarter in there, his state ID, and a few music club cards, and that was literally all, not even so much as a bank card or credit card. That quarter was currently all he had spending money wise until the next paycheck, which was thankfully in a few days. This, of course, was a point of overwhelming hilarity for the Brazilian man; he'd finally realized what had happened. Ilari had just gotten entangled on the way to his wallet, and with his MP3 player and headphones being the only objects of value on his person. It wasn't long until his laughter broke down entirely into hysterics thanks to the relief over his music being alright mingled with the overwhelming amusement at the idea of him having money.
With the utter fit of laughter, Davi had no way of responding to the Russian's next questions for some amount of time. When he finally, calmed, hacking and wheezing out laughter, his face fell into stoicism, before his gaze turned away with naught more than a rumble of, "That is none of your concern. I do not tell them that you are a thief, and you do not tell them I am anything."
Posted by alexstarkova on May 26, 2010 15:10:10 GMT -6
Guest
The wallet landed quite nicely in Ilari's lap, and, for a moment, he thought he was being given money. Then, of course, he took his look inside and found nothing but a quarter. Twenty-five useless cents. A sigh was given, and the wallet was tossed back to the foreign man.
"That's exactly the kind of truce I was talking about," he replied, making his way to his feet. He was cold, and it was no longer a pleasant cool. Since he'd calmed down, Ilari only felt clammy and uncomfortable, and he'd noticed - when he was holding the wallet - that his hands had begun shaking. "Neither of us go to the police, neither of us get found, and, just maybe, we help each other when we can."
Smoothly, Ilari strode over to the other, feeling at ease, dealing with a fellow outlaw. It was something he was used to, unlike the two women he'd met in recent times. It wasn't that he wasn't used to talking to women so much as it was that he wasn't used to dealing with law-abiding citizens. He held a hand out to the other man on the rooftop, offering to help him up as well as shake his hand, hoping to seal the deal.
"Ilari." A slight smirk made it's way across Ilari's face. He always felt kind of like a badass when he made a new crime connection. "Ilari Starkova. I know it makes me sound like I'm in the mob, but I'm not. Trust me."
Posted by camazotz on May 26, 2010 16:15:29 GMT -6
Guest
The tossed wallet was picked up off of the wet roof and tucked away into his pocket once more. He was far too exhausted to even bother trying to catch it, after all. As Ilari spoke once more, Davi turned his gaze back to him, listening to his words and then giving an acquiescing nod. That sounded absolutely perfect, then. Enough mutual respect to keep them both in line. Of course, he'd never go to the cops for anything, just in case they ran a check on him; he knew full well that wouldn't hold up well enough. What he had was good enough for a job... But not much more than that.
When the Russian stood over him and offered his hand, the younger man gave it an odd look, perking his brow and eying the hand with a moment's confusion. He actually realized what the offer was shortly after, however, though he just stared at it incredulously a bit longer before deciding to attempt to stand. Really, with how tired he was the help was appreciated, but he wasn't sure he could stay standing without it. Couldn't know until he tried, of course, pulling himself to his feet with Ilari's help and a low, wobbly grunt.
"Travis Silveria," was murmured out, the false name as quick to his lips and easily spoken as his real one once was. "And I do not know what you mean by 'mob'. What is that word?" It was remarkably rare, for someone who hadn't had proper English classes, but occasionally his knowledge of the language fell through. The places it did were also odd; some things that were common in popular culture went straight over the Brazilian's head because he had neither TV nor Internet.
Posted by alexstarkova on May 26, 2010 16:39:36 GMT -6
Guest
What a strange question to ask. Then again, maybe he hadn't been in the country long enough to know the slang term for the mafia? Still, it sat strangely with Ilari, and it put him slightly on edge. The question almost seemed like a transparent attempt to make it seem like he wasn't in the mafia. But that was rediculous. With a name like Travis Silveria? And a Spanish accent? Even if he was in the mafia, it wasn't one that Ilari would have to worry about. (He'd had a few run-ins with the Russians. It was nothing huge.) He pushed that train of thought out of his mind and opted to answer the question.
"Mob? It, uh..." he trailed off, suddenly feeling exposed, watched, and somewhat ridiculous. "It's another word for Mafia. I was just... uh, joking..." Awkward.
The rain started to pick up, and suddenly it was beating down rather heavily. With a shiver and a curse, Ilari made a snap decision.
"Why don't you come inside?" the young Russian yelled over the downpour. "You should probably warm up... and you don't want to ruin your music in the water, right?" He didn't know quite why he invited the other in. It wasn't like he invited any of his other criminal allies into his home. Only one or two made it there, in need of emergency first-aid or to borrow money or something. Still, something seemed different about this one. Only concerned about his music? And the way he moved... Ilari was beginning to suspect something wasn't quite "normal" with this one, and he was suddenly curious enough to try and find out.
Or maybe he was trying to make another friend? Meeting people was starting to get kind of fun.
Posted by camazotz on May 26, 2010 18:09:43 GMT -6
Guest
"Oh... Mafia. I had heard the word 'mob', but I had not known it meant the same," was the distracted, exhausted murmur. The younger man was visibly having trouble standing, wobbling a bit side to side, his eyes unfocused. So tired. It was like almost every bit of energy had been devoured, and really, in truth, that was exactly what had happened. Granted he didn't comprehend just how fast he had been moving during that fight earlier so he had no way of knowing that was what caused this. Of course, by now, he was cooled off, and the chill from the rain was actually making him shiver rather violently in the mix of cold and exhaustion.
It was for that reason that, when Ilari mentioned going inside due to the start of the freezing, hateful downpour, he didn't even bat an eye about nodding. "Yes, please," was called out, though instead of actually moving to follow him, he just outright collapsed back down to the cold, wet roof. Apparently, his legs were done for awhile. Which was a bit of a problem, as he rather needed them to get out of the rain; how bothersome.
Posted by alexstarkova on May 26, 2010 18:36:26 GMT -6
Guest
Ilari quit being dastardly and started being concerned when Travis collapsed. Immediately, he rushed over to the man's side and knelt down.
"Holy- are you okay!?" he yelled. He didn't look that out of shape, especially with how he'd fought earlier. Why on earth would he have just up and collapsed like that? It only furthered Ilari's suspicion that something was different about Travis. In fact, that collapse was a lot like the times Ilari had over exerted himself when he first started training with his powers. How interesting...
Rather than wait for a reply, Ilari leaned down to help Travis up, hoping to support him and help him walk down to his apartment. Despite how he looked, through the baggy clothes, Ilari really was well-muscled and strong. Picking Travis up wasn't really that much of a problem. Even if he had to carry the man, he would be able to do it. Taking the stairs might get difficult, but he would deal with that when the time came.
"Come on," he murmured. "You need to warm up." Given that collapse, Ilari was sure he'd have Travis spend the night in his home, and, surprisingly, he was alright with that. He hated to see someone suffer who didn't deserve it, and it didn't seem like Travis deserved it. So, he'd help the man warm up, maybe give him some food, and let him get some sleep.
Posted by camazotz on May 26, 2010 22:39:41 GMT -6
Guest
The question about whether he was alright raised a Portuguese response from the dazed younger man. He hadn't hit his head on the way down, but the fall had been part due to the pain in his body, and part due to a head rush so he wasn't thinking very clearly. It also came out in a slightly slurred and delirious manner, making it rather obvious that he wasn't doing so well. As he laid there, however, the blood started to return to his brain, blood pressure returning to normal, leaving him capable of responding to the second words that Ilari said to him.
"Warm... Yes... I can... Warm. Mmm," it was barely understandable, but at least it was in English so Ilari had a chance. As the Russian picked Davi up, the younger man wrapped his arm around his back, taking the support to walk with him. It had just been a blood pressure crash that knocked him down that time, mostly, but he was still ridiculously weak and exhausted, with the chill sapping even more of his strength. His body had defensively gone into a state of low metabolism to try and defend itself from the lack of energy and stay conscious, leaving both words and movements sluggish and causing him to jitter very strongly with the cold.
Posted by alexstarkova on May 26, 2010 22:57:38 GMT -6
Guest
Ilari was getting pretty badly worried about the Brazilian, and so he hurried as fast as he could down to his apartment. He had to take a few flights of stairs, but, luckily, he was closer to the top floor than the bottom. It took some coordination to balance Travis and unlock his door, but he made it, and he helped the other inside. The door was kicked shut, and a b-line was made for the couch. Thankfully, his apartment was small, so it wasn't too long of a walk to the couch, where he helped Travis sit down.
And then a horribly awkward thought occurred to him.
"Uh... You're going to need to get out of those clothes," he stammered. "I'll find you something to... change into." That said, he watched the other for a short period of time. "Are you gonna be able to do that?" He didn't exactly want to help the other out of his clothes... he didn't know the man! He'd do it, if he had to, though. He'd rather an awkward moment than someone die in his apartment. Still, Ilari was planning on lending the other some pajamas. Some nice, warm ones.
He'd need them. Ilari's apartment wasn't much warmer than it was, outside. His apartment wasn't a very well maintained place, and the radiator was busted. For sure, it would be fixed, come winter, but, that night? It was out. He had warm clothes and blankets, at least, but... really. What bad timing.
Posted by camazotz on May 26, 2010 23:38:35 GMT -6
Guest
Davi just tried his hardest to keep walking. Even with the other man as support, it was hard going, exhausting work to simply put one foot in front of the other. His slowness, a counterpoint to the earlier unnatural speed, was surely noticeable by now, though the slightly greater warmth of the building did have him perking very slightly
Being set down on the couch had Davi giving a soft, pleased noise at the level of comfort it had for his aching body compared to wet concrete. Again it took him awhile to respond to Ilari, and he just gave him a blank look for a bit, before furrowing his brows, and starting to fumble with his drenched windbreaker a bit. The attempts weren't quite fruitless, but it was very slow going, with the Brazilian's brows knit tightly, eyes focused hawkishly on the buttons as he tried rather hard to get the things open. His fingers were being somewhat unresponsive and that only served to heighten both his annoyance and the difficulty of getting the blasted things removed.
Posted by alexstarkova on May 26, 2010 23:56:13 GMT -6
Guest
The Display was rather... pitiful and hard to watch. Despite how it should have made the situation far more awkward, Ilari felt the discomfort diffuse as he leaned in to help the man he thought to be Travis get his clothes off. He made quick work of the windbreaker and tossed it on the floor. His shirt, shoes, socks, and slacks soon joined it, and that was where Ilari hit a roadblock. He probably should have finished the job to help the other warm up, but, well. He wasn't about to remove the boxers of a man he didn't know. So, he left them.
"Okay, wait here. I'm gonna get you something warm to wear." Ilari then grabbed Travis' discarded clothes and hurried to hang them up in the bathroom, to dry. From there, he went to his bedroom to change into some warm pajamas of his own. (Simple cotton pajama pants and a long-sleeved, button-up shirt.) They felt wonderful, and, despite the slight chill of the apartment, Ilari felt himself warming up quite nicely. He grabbed a clean comforter from the closet in his bedroom, as well as a set of pajamas (another simple cotton-pants-and-long-sleeve-shirt combination) for the Brazilian, hoping they would fit him. Those were rushed back out into the living room and held out to the cold, disoriented male.
As he was undressed, all the Brazilian could really do was mutter brokenly in his native tongue small, dissenting phrases. Having his clothing removed by someone not of his family was very awkward, but he was too tired to even tell Ilari off, let alone do more than utterly ineffectively swat at the other man. At best, he could give mildly irritated grunts, but the speed at which he was moving likely made all of this seem odd; at the swats probably seemed more like strokes, going by the 'slow motion'. That probably make the situation even more oddly awkward for the poor Russian, but it was beyond Davi's ability to comprehend.
Watching Ilari walk away, the Brazilian murmured, "Toalha..." in his general direction. The chill of the water drying right off of his bare skin was sinking him further beyond the ability to think straight, and he didn't realize that he was speaking in his native tongue, rather than the English the two shared. His words were also quiet, the volume struck down by exhaustion; it was likely Ilari didn't even hear him. When the other returned, Davi gave a critical eyeballing to the clothing, not even reaching for it as he reiterated, "Toalha..." a bit more loudly and insistently, looking into the Russian's eyes as he did.
Posted by alexstarkova on May 27, 2010 2:04:27 GMT -6
Guest
Ilari hadn't heard the mutterings as he undressed the Brazilian, and he kind of excused every motion as the man being tired and unable to figure out what was going on. He was certainly sinking fast... Anyway, Ilari realized quickly that Travis wouldn't be able to dress himself, so he moved to help the other do just that. It was harder than taking his clothes off, surprisingly. Still, without too much effort he managed. While he was working, however, he heard the foreign pleas.
"Toa...what?" he asked, confused, and hoping whatever "toalha" meant, it wasn't important. Or a horrible accusation. Or something. He was planning on going to get Travis some warm food, but the question of what that strange word meant seemed more pressing, for the time being. So, after he got his pajamas on Travis, he stood in front of him, waiting. "You're gonna have to speak English, buddy."