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.
She had certainly freaked the woman out a little, but she hadn’t scared her enough for her to do anything. That was probably actually the worst case scenario. Charlie could see then that it would have been far better to just follow her by other means. She really needed to invest in a car.
It was too late to reminisce about that, though. All she could do at that point was follow her target on foot. Preferably not so closely.
They crossed the street, and Jack stood still, waiting for the other signal. Charlie walked straight forward, hoping to throw her off the track. If she didn’t think that she was following her, then Charlie would just be the blonde woman that had winked at her in the street. Nothing more. If all went right, she could catch up in a block or two.
She jaywalked about halfway down the street and then turned back down the way that Jack was going, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rainbow… uh… shell?
Charlie took a good look at the apartment from her seemly safe spot. She took a few pictures, too, just for good measure. It was hard to know what she would remember if something went wrong.
Her target, however, was being a little camera shy. Charlie knew that she was in there, but she couldn’t see her from the angle that she was at. She could see the game that she was playing, and the evidence that someone was living, breathing, there, but no actual people. It was exceptionally frustrating.
With a quiet huff, she leaned back from the window and took up a squat against the brick wall of the apartment building. If she wasn’t going to show herself yet, then Charlie would give her a little while to make herself more obvious. There was no rush; she was being paid for her time. She could wait. She flipped through some of the pictures as she did so.
>>”Enjoying the view, pervert?”
Ah, so she’s sociable.
From the sounds of things, she had not done a good enough job of hiding. The window was clearly not even a little bit soundproof, meaning that her cover was blown. Very blown, from the sounds of things. That was it; she was sticking to long range stalking and following people in cars from then on out.
With a sigh, Charlie tried to decide how best to get herself out of the pickle she had just gotten herself into. There weren’t many good options. She could run back away, but then she would have nothing and the police trailing her, or she could run with it. Make the most out of a bad situation.
The blonde composed herself and put on the best scared face she could possibly muster. Then, she slid her camera into her bag and turned so that she was facing Vanessa through the thin window.
”I-I’m sorry,” she managed to muster, taking a good look at her target and the hammer she was holding. That would probably hurt to get your head bashed in with. Less than a brick, though. ”I didn’t mean to scare you, really. I live a few floors up, and I forgot my keys, so I can’t get into the building. I was trying to see if anyone was home here to let me in. It was stupid. I’ll just go call the super, or something.”
Despite what it looked like, Jack was not heading to the subway. That was both a positive and a negative result. On one hand, it was much easier to follow someone in a crowd of people than in a stationary position in a moving vehicle, but it also meant that she now had no idea where she was going.
The blonde grumbled under her breath and sped up her walking, careful not to trip or get too far behind. If she had known that she would be doing this much street pursuing, she would have chosen some footwear without heels. Hindsight was twenty-twenty.
Soon enough, they reached a stoplight and had to wait. It was perfect. There was a large enough group of people that Charlie could easily get lost in them, but she would still have to be careful not to get too close. She hung at the back of the group, keeping her eyes moving from the lights to the tall, rainbow woman she was trailing.
The lights changed, and they were free to walk. Charlie made the mistake of walking at her usual pace, not thinking that the people around her would choose to walk slower than her. Before she knew it, she was almost walking next to her target.
Charlie could feel her heart start to beat faster. That wasn't supposed to happen. If Jack looked behind her, she would lose any anonymity that she'd had before, and there would be no getting it back. She looked up, only to find that they were making eye contact.
What were you supposed to do when your car was skidding? Lean into the skid.
Rather than looking away awkwardly, Charlie winked.
Charlie's usual string of bad luck didn't seem to be following her around that day. Despite her untimely outburst, things were still on track. The, uh... the woman hadn't seemed to have noticed that anything was amiss. Granted, it was New York City, and there was a lot of swearing in the streets, so perhaps she had simply thought that it was just a random passerby and hadn't paid any attention.
Either that or she was slow as well as a shrimp.
Dressed in her usual attire of a leather jacket and dark clothes, Charlie pursued her target, making mental notes about the case and taking as many pictures as she could at the brisk pace. If nothing else, Jacquelyn Dyer knew how to keep up a pace.
People crowded the streets, old women with tiny dogs, children, adults, larger dogs. It seemed as though all of New York had spilt onto the streets in order to keep Charlie as far apart from Jack as they possibly could.
Luckily, she kept a fairly straight route. There were no crazy turns or twists; she clearly didn't know that she was being followed.
Eventually, she did turn to an above-ground subway station. Charlie followed, having essentially caught up, but stayed far enough away that she could blend into the crowd. Nothing too exciting was happening in that moment, anyway. Charlie was just hoping that Jack was going home so she could get a few pictures of it. That was what she'd been hired to do, after all. Figure out some details about her and take some pictures. Thankfully, there was nothing too creepy involved.
Money was money. That's what it came down to. Even at two-hundred and sixty years old (well, technically eight days), she was still plagued by the fact that the world didn't turn unless there was some cash in your pocket. She was late on rent, and she still owed the Hardys their cut to keep their mouths shut.
So, she turned to the one thing that she could almost always sometimes count on in her life: investigative work.
Charlie had gotten a call from a worried family member (or maybe it had been a friend? Details were blurry pre-death) asking her to investigate someone that they had been very close to a number of years ago. Only recently had she learned the name that the woman had switched to when she ran away from her old life. There had been some detail that had made Charlie initially wary about taking the case, but she couldn't remember what it was anymore. She had forgotten to take any notes on it.
Usually, her notes were impossibly detailed and all-encompassing. Apparently not that time around. There seemed to be gaping holes in her research, which put her back a few days in the investigation. That, combined with a death partway through and a couple of late nights, meant that she was only just getting to find the woman.
Eventually, Charlie was able to dig up the address of the places where she worked. It only took her an hour longer to figure out her hours. After that, she was golden. She stood across the street from some school, her camera on a string around her neck, ready to be raised to her eye at a moment's notice. She was waiting for the woman to appear. If her memory decided to be kind to her, then Charlie knew that she would be able to recognise her when she saw her. If not, then she would have to do a bit more searching.
She waited for a good, long while until something caught her eye. Something... rainbow.
"What the f**k?" Charlie swore loudly, her face twisted slightly as she looked at the giant prawn. It hadn't seemed to have hit her just how blatantly rude and bigoted she was being in that moment.
She had just remembered why she hadn't wanted to take the case. She was supposed to be stalking a giant talking mantis shrimp.
The building across the street from Charlie’s special bar was a bit of a safety hazard. It was a cheap “Mexican” food restaurant that had ignored so many health code regulations that Charlie wasn’t even sure how it was still open. What was more amazing to her was that people still chose to eat there.
So, needless to say, it came as no surprise to her when it burst into flames. According to the whispers from the people that were standing across the street, waiting for the fire truck to arrive, it was either a grease fire or a fire started by chemicals too close to the fryer. Neither option surprised her.
Still, it was strange how many people were just standing outside, watching the building burn down. Although, she did recognise that she was just one of them, so she couldn’t really pass judgement.
”Has anyone called nine-one-one yet?” Charlie asked the woman next to her, suddenly aware of the fact that there was a distinct absence of sirens. Typically, that was the first reaction of anyone viewing a disaster, but the crowd around her didn’t really seem like the type to jump in to help a situation.
The woman turned to her and cocked her head. “You know, I’m not sure. It might be good to do it just in case no one has.” Her voice was surprisingly calm for watching a building burn down in front of her.
With a raised eyebrow, Charlie shook her head and dialled the emergency number that popped up at the bottom of her phone screen. It only rang a few times before someone picked up.
”Hello? Yes, I need-”
“Oh. My. God,” someone cried. They were far less calm than the woman had been. “I think there are still people inside!”
Charlie stopped mid-sentence and frowned. There was no way that the fire department was going to get there before the roof on that little restaurant collapsed, not matter how quickly she made the phone call. ith a groan, she spoke as quickly as she could and then hung up.
She had been on a roll, too. Not one death in over two weeks.
She’d been alive for almost a month. It was pretty great, actually. She had most of her memories and it felt like she was doing well in that life. It was a great, rare feeling that needed to be cherished.
But what did she do instead?
Waste her time on investigative work, that’s what.
Charlie stepped carefully on the fire escape that scaled the building she was supposed to be targeting a client in. She didn’t typically get that close, but trying to use her long-range camera from across the street hadn’t been working out well. The target’s apartment had too many strange angles to get anything good out of.
The metal contraption beneath her feet wobbled slightly and made an angry noise, but she grabbed it after a second or two, stopping any sound. With any luck, her mishap would have gone unnoticed.
She continued along the same path, intent on making it up the building both alive and undetected. It was a long shot, but she was willing to try it. Hey, it wasn’t like she was going to lose anything, right?
Eventually, she reached the apartment that she needed to look into. It was a nice place, really. There were so many games, though. Games everywhere. Charlie didn’t know what one person could do with that many games. It wasn’t like you could play them all at one time… or could you? She couldn’t remember. Something to look into later.
Focusing on the task at hand, she brought her camera up to her eye and zoomed carefully, crouching with her back to the wall so that the target wouldn’t be able to see her unless she strained her neck a great deal. Her camera, however, was slightly visible.
The target was playing a game. Just one, so Charlie figured that maybe she was on the right track the first time around. Brown hair, pale skin, in her mid-twenties, and in relatively good shape. According to her client, Vanessa Bookman was a professional gamer. What a life.
Carefully, the blonde began to edge slightly closer to the window.
Character's full name: Charlotte Elizabeth Sinclair Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Any form of Charlotte. Her current favourite is Charlie. Gender: Female Age: 261 (looks early-mid twenties) Date of Birth: 02/18/1757 Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: London, England Nationality: British Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: European mix
Appearance
Hair color and style: Long, blonde hair. Often chopped in strange styles and slight askew. Skin Tone: Moderately pale. She tries to tan whenever she can, but it doesn’t usually last very long. Eye Color: Blue Height: 5’10” Build: Slim, well-toned Visible mutation: N/A Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: She picks them all up constantly, but none of them stay for long. Other features: N/A
Everyday clothing style: Her staple is a leather jacket and jeans, but you'll also often catch her in other things. Charlie likes to keep up with trends. She will usually wear whatever’s in style at the time, making sure never to stick out too much. She tends to prefer short, revealing clothes. Uniform: N/A Sleepwear: Usually nothing, but occasionally a nightgown. Sometimes she’ll just fall asleep in her clothes. Miscellaneous clothing: N/A
Character
Personality: Charlie has few inhibitions. One of the biggest things that she’s learned over her many, many years is that life goes on no matter what choices you make. So, she typically isn’t afraid to try new things. She's a bit rough around the edges, so she occasionally rubs people the wrong way; she has a tendency to swear.
She's an extroverted introvert, so she likes to be involved in social situations, but she often takes a while to recharge afterwards. For the most part, she's easy to get on with. That being said, Charlie can flip a switch when she wants to. She's seen more than the average person, and she isn't afraid to do what she needs to do to survive. She'll get angry and violent if the scenario calls for it.
She has a hard time forming relationships with other people since she knows she’ll outlive them. Sort of. She might make friends or even develop feelings for someone, but she’ll be very, very wary about forming deep connections with them.
She likes to travel, but she never seems to get very far outside of New York before she finds herself right back there.
When she remembers fewer of her lives, she’s generally a bit more cautious and willing to settle down, but it doesn’t usually last long. She’s occasionally slightly confused or worrisome when she can’t remember things.
Charlie also really likes to learn. She’ll read just about anything that she can get her hands on, and she always likes to be the first one figuring out new technology when it arrives. She likes change. It keeps her going.
Hobbies/ Interests: Painting, rock climbing, cliff jumping, playing the guitar, reading, photography.
Job or part time job and description: Charlie's freelance job as a Private investigator at her own firm, Private Eye Investigations, has fallen to the wayside a little in favour of her work at the Syndicate. She still does occasional jobs, but most of her attention is on the Syndicate.
Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Outliving everyone. Each time that she wakes up from a death, Charlie gets a little more terrified that this will be her fate forever. Coulrophobia. Charlie is terrified of clowns. Sink-to-her-knees-crying terrified. Special talents: Excellent painter and photographer. Very good at being silent and going unnoticed.
Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Neutral. Charlie won’t choose to be involved in politics or other people’s business, but she’s also a bit of a spitfire. She’ll fight for a cause if she’s given reason to, often with little care for her own personal well-being.
Mutations
Mutation description:A deathless death
Essentially, when Charlie dies, she doesn’t really die. Her first death was when she was twenty-three, inside a little furniture shop (now a bar). At that moment, her powers activated, and that had been her “save point”. Her body imprinted on that place at a moment of high stress, and now whenever she dies, her molecules disperse and reform at that exact location.
Strengths:
The most obvious strength is that Charlie cannot really die. Anything that kills her will cause her body to return to that state in that location. No matter the circumstances.
As long as Charlie dies regularly, she will be in peak condition forever.
When she is “resurrected”, her body resets its original condition. Any scars, injuries, or otherwise will disappear.
When she resurrects, it happens instantly. Her body will disappear from whatever situation it is in and reappear in the basement of the bar.
Weaknesses and Limitations:
Charlie seems to attract death. The average life expectancy of regular people is about eighty years. The longest life that Charlie has lived to date was her first. Ever since then, she hasn’t been able to evade death for more than a year or so.
Each time she “resurrects”, her clothes and personal possessions do not come with her.
Memories also do not always travel well. No matter what, all her memories are stored, but they are difficult to access. Each death is different, and she comes back with varying amounts of her memory intact. Sometimes she will remember each excruciating moment, and sometimes she will only remember a few lifetimes. Usually, she will remember the majority of her life within a week of being resurrected. Sometimes, she will remember very little.
Charlie can still feel pain. Death usually hurts quite a bit.
Charlie can die from old age. She just hasn’t lived long enough to figure that out.
Physical Abilities
General Physical Capabilities: (Strength/Speed/Reflexes/Stamina/Flexibility) Strength - a little above average for someone of her size and weight. Speed - Charlie is very fast. Above average for someone of her size and weight. Reflexes - generally pretty poor. Why bother with them if you don’t need them? Stamina - average. Flexibility - average. Fighting Style: Charlie fights dirty. She doesn’t typically care if she gets injured while fighting, so she will immediately go offensive and stay that way. She’ll use whatever heavy object is within her reach. Fighting Style Pros/Cons: Usually, she’ll get some good blows out, but she also tends to injure herself. Occasionally, she’ll die.
History Of Your Character
Charlotte Elizabeth Sinclair was born to two English socialites in the eighteenth century. She grew up proper and cared for, attending the occasional party and spending most of her time reading books and whatever else she could get her hands on. She grew up with two older brothers and a younger sister.
When she was seventeen, her family decided to travel to America in order to help settle the new world and help quell some of the rising tension. Her father moved them to New York City, and Charlotte led a very similar life, though with a little less money than before.
Things continued on like that for some time. Charlotte was married off to a British officer, James, at the age of 22, and she planned on living out her days as a wife and mother. However, the next year, tensions reached a boiling point with the revolution. Her husband went off to fight the revolutionists, and she stayed home to tend to their estate.
Other than the fact that her husband was away, things seemed to be looking alright for Charlotte. While she cared for James, she wasn’t really in love with him, and she didn’t have to worry about him being there when the war was going on.
So, she carried out an affair with a woman much closer to her age that lived near her, Iris. They would meet in the basement of furniture shop that the other woman’s husband owned in secret.
Before long, James came home and discovered that his wife was out somewhere else, so he went looking for her. He found her in a compromising position with another woman and was enraged. In a fit of anger, he shot both of them.
Both women died, but Charlotte woke up a few seconds later in a pool of her own blood, finding no wound on her body. She pretended to be dead until James left and then fled the scene.
Unsure of what happened to her, Charlotte continued on, living a new life in a new area. However, it wasn’t long before the Reaper caught up with her again, and she woke up in the same furniture shop as before. Things continued on just like that, with her dying every once and awhile, never putting down roots for fear that they wouldn’t last.
When the furniture shop was closed, Charlie fretted, worried that it would be knocked down. She convinced the man that owned the bar next door to buy that place out and expand. Allan Hardy. She then made a deal with him to be able to keep clothes in the basement and for him to keep his mouth shut in exchange for money. That deal has continued for two generations.
In the mid-2000s, Charlie opened Private Eye Investigations, a private investigation business in a run-down neighbourhood of New York, and she has since made a bit of a name for herself.
Roleplay
What’s your OOC alias?:Lix Where did you learn about this site?: Gooooooogle Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: matt morales Sample RP: Charlotte Sinclair is dead! For now, anyway.
A sing-song thought ran through her mind as she opened her eyes. She’d been… falling somewhere, maybe? Her memory was pretty good that time around. She knew exactly where she was and what was going on. That was rarely the case.
She shivered as she sat up in the dark basement. It seemed to have leaked at some point. Probably recently. Charlie could feel the slick coating on water on the concrete flooring against her bare skin. It was cold. Oh, so cold.
Groggily, she stood up and stretched. In a way, it was like waking from a long nap in a strange position. Her eyes had adjusted to the low lighting, and she could finally make out the basement. It looked just about the same as always. She had been there the past week, after all.
She shook out her legs and arms as she walked across the floor, the pool of water splashing with each step she took. She’d stashed clothes… somewhere…
In the box in the corner. That was what it was. She ventured over to it and pried open the soggy cardboard, revealing the slightly damp pair of jeans, t-shirt, shoes, jacket, and undergarments.
She dressed quickly, the clothes doing nothing to make the chill any more bearable. Once she was fully dressed, she pulled her hair back and walked up the stairs into the kitchen of the little bar.
”Roger,” Charlie greeted with a salute when she saw the current patriarch of the Hardy family at the top of the stairs.
“Thought I heard someone groaning down there. You’re looking chipper this morning,” he noted, letting her pass through his employees without much concern for safety regulations.
Charlie merely nodded and continued to walk, brushing off anything he might say. ”Yeah, yeah. I have a client to get to.”
