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.
"Luckily for me, my gifts were never dangerous," Juka answered the winged man. "They might have been a bit tricky to control at first, but there was no risk of hurting anyone." Thankfully. He couldn't abide hurting others. Even when he had gone off and become something of a vigilante, anvils whirling around him protectively and, sometimes, more than protectively; it was the hurting of others that was always the worst part. It was the saving of others that made it all worth while. But he wasn't that person any longer, not really.
"There are all sorts of interesting things in the city," Juka answered with a grin. Now things were getting back into a territory he was familiar with. "The question is, what do you consider the good kind of interesting?" Because interesting meant very different things to different people.
The question, Juka wondered, was how to get through to the kid? Or, perhaps more to the point, how to get the kid to trust him enough to actually satisfy his curiosity. This was going to be a fun challenge indeed and one he was certain to be up to. After all, he was magnificent, was he not?
"My dearest one, you don't really expect me to believe that do you?" Juka sat himself down on an empty seat in front of the boy, quite uncaring that his presence wasn't especially welcome. He would win the kid over, it was just a matter of how and how long it took. Either that or he'd get himself punched in the nose, but he judged it worth the risk.
"Now, I see that book of yours and I see you sitting here all alone. Either you're some kind of super genius who skipped through several grades to land here, or there's something else going and either way I'm sure the story is a unique and fascinating one." He sat there, arms crossed, looking at the boy in anticipating. He wasn't leaving until his curiosity was justly satisfied. Either that, or he got punched in the nose.
It wasn't that Juka didn't notice that the kid was annoyed at his approach and questions, it was just that he didn't care that the kid was annoyed. How could anyone really stay annoyed with him for long anyway? He was clearly charming and glorious not to mention courteous and with a great fashion sense just to top it all off. So, annoyed or not, it just meant he had to try a little harder than usual to win him over.
“What story? I just go here.”
"Oh no you don't," Juka shook his head and waggled a scolding finger at the kid, grin splitting his face. "I know very well you have a story and you're just dying to tell it to someone who isn't going to judge and make fun of you, isn't that right?" It wasn't a hard leap to figure that judgement and being made fun of were probably some of the kid's main concerns especially given the viciousness of many high school students.
Juka made note of the book the kid was reading and the fact that he took steps to hide it. Clearly, that was proof, if he needed more of it, that he was onto something hear and it was a story he intended to get no matter what!
High school was boring. What had ever possessed Juka, in his infanent wisdom, to actually think that going back to high school was a good idea? So what if he currently looked like that's where he actually belonged and so what if it actually meant almost daily human interact, it was still boring. As in, really boring. It had been bad enough the first time around when everything was still new and he actually had things to learn, but now it was just tedious and pointless. He had no ambitions to be a better student this time around or to go to college or any of the rest of that nonsense. Eventually, when his nemesis had forgotten him, he'd go back to the stage and the stage had no need for formal education. So, why was he still at school again? That was the question.
It was lunch time and while Juka didn't technically need to eat, his bubble taking care of all of his needs, it was something he enjoyed. Or at least, its something he enjoyed when there was actually food worthy of enjoyment. High school cafeteria food, he learned rather quickly, was not at all worth enjoying. Not even a little bit. So today, as with nearly every day since returning, he didn't eat anything. At the end of the day, perhaps, he'd go find some fancy restaurant with food actually worth eating and enjoying, but in the meantime it wasn't so difficult to sneak away into a bathroom for a few minutes and take care of that need in alternate ways.
Another thing Juka had learned rather quickly was that he didn't fit in there. At all. Maybe they just weren't used to his flamboyant and flirtatious ways or, probably even more likely, the way he behaves just wasn't the way a normal 14 year old was supposed to behave. It wasn't that he was old, not really, but he was older than he appeared and had seen a lot for his age. So, more often than not, he found himself alone and bored, every so very bored.
It was with these not especially happy thoughts in mind that Juka spotted the little kid sitting in the corner. Much too little, in fact, to be part of high school and, if his eyes did not deceive him, reading a book much too advanced for his small stature. Well, he wasn't quite sure what to make of it but surely this story would be far more interesting than just about anything else happening at the moment so he picked himself up, blood red jacket flowing behind him, and walked right up to the child. "You, my dear, seem a little young to be here in a place like this. Might I request your company and perhaps hear your story?" He bowed elegantly in the direction of the child.
"It must be stupendous seeing like that," Juka stated. "Alas, my vision is merely human no more and no less." Enhanced senses were such a curiosity but also something he'd probably never experience. In a way, it went completely against what his bubble was; something that separated him from the world. To see or hear or smell beyond human, well, if anything that would connect one deeper to the world. Whether or not he even wanted to be more closely connected was a question he didn't have an answer for at that moment.
"I am curious how you would know about clubs? It would seem from your appearance that you are much to young to be allowed into such a place, if you will pardon my saying so. Does your mutation do something to slow your aging?"
Juka felt a sinking feeling in his chest. Apparently he had, in fact, said a little too much and it was suspicious enough for questions to be asked of him. What to say in response was the question. However, the stranger all ready knew enough about him to damn him if She should come searching and there was a strange feeling of liberation in telling the truth, if only to this one person. So, truth it was then.
"Something like that," Juka agreed. He wasn't about to tell everything because everything could be dangerous. "I used to be older but then things got...complicated. So, here I am as you see me." Again, probably more than he should have said but how was he to be sure where to draw that line?
“Art’s better like that, easy art always turns out to be stuff someone’s already done.”
Juka nodded his complete agreement of that statement. What artist hadn't gone through the always unpleasant experience of thinking you were an artistic genius only to discover that, in fact, you weren't quite so brilliant after all? It was an effort, always, to stand out and be truly unique and one that Juka was usually up to the task of achieving, but even he had his moments.
"Trust me, in music as in art there are always those moments of near genius only to discover that it was someone else's genius rather than your own." He laughed, remembering one of his early shows. He had gone all out, at the tender age of 17, in complete costume. Genius was, naturally, the word he thought most appropriate. But then, scant days later, something on the internet caught his eye and lead the realization that it had all been done before. It was more than a little disappointing but looking back on it now, the best thing to do was laugh. No use dwelling on past follies, especially not when he actually had real problems in life now and not just the problems of being a tortured musician.
"You sure do understand music fans," Juka agreed with a wink. "Never satisfied. But, alas, such is the life of a muscnision and I wouldn't have it any other way." Not that he was doing much performing as his 14 year old self, but perhaps that would have to change sooner rather than later. Maybe. If he could possibly figure out what to do about Her and the threat she might still pose.
Despite his ability to float hundreds of feet above the city, Juka still wondered sometimes what true flight must be like. In his bubble he was disconnected from the world, an observer not quite integrated into the natural order. What must it be like to have actual wings in which he had to exercise actual muscles to keep himself aloft? Most likely it was a question he'd never truly know the answer to; no more than a land-bound person would know what it was like to float above rock and earth.
"New York is a glorious city if you enjoy people and events. There are, I confess, some of the best clubs around." Not that he should be going to clubs at 14, of course. But he wasn't really 14 despite appearances, now was he? Maybe Mariusz wouldn't pick up on the strangeness of the statement. Or maybe he would. It would be almost a relief to tell someone, even this stranger, the truth of his secret.
"Can you see like a bird as well," Juka asked curiously, his mind wandering back to long ago times of school and what he had read about birds of prey in his textbooks. "I'd imagine that'd be quite the experience."
Juka split his attention between keeping an eye on Blake as he proceeded to climb ever upwards and ensuring no teachers came around to try and stop him. What, exactly, he'd do if Blake fell he hadn't quite figured out but if a teacher came by, well, he was very good at serving as a distraction. And if Blake did fall, he'd figure out what to do about it at that time. Probably something stupid, knowing his history.
"I know what you mean about going on and on," Juka replied with a carefree laugh. So far so good, his new friend seemed to have a solid sense of balance which really was for the best when climbing up potentially unstable structures. "I learned a long time ago that people prefer to simply listen rather than learn about all the details of production and stage show. I perform for them as much as for me, you know." It might have been the case that people had accused him of being something of an attention whore at times. But when had he ever let unpopular opinion stand in his way? The answer was pretty much never.
Blake landed and Juka clapped his hands together, reveling in the teen's success. "Well done, my dear. Ingenuity for the sake of art at its best!"
"I am out getting in a workout and also learning the lay of the land of the city as New York City is my new home. It is always wise to know one's way around one's new home."
"Its a good idea to explore one's home," Juka nodded, considering. "Especially as a mutant. There are dangers out there and you need to know where to go to be safe." It was a rare moment of seriousness, the words imparting a very personal and pertinent meaning. They were words that, perhaps, weren't the sort that a 14 year old was likely to utter but his mind remained that of an adult even if his body was that of a young teen.
"But if you ever need a guide around the city, feel more than free to ask." Juka grinned, resuming his usual cheerful and carefree demeanor. It wasn't his fault that such a demeanor was now just a little bit forced nor that he had encountered the greatest sorts of evils in the world first hand. It was up to him, however, to do what he could to get past it. He wasn't going to let the memories of the fears of Her get in the way of living his life. So he might have to rebuild some of the pieces, especially the pieces of his mind and heart, but he would do so and his demons wouldn't stop him; he wouldn't let them.
"I also could not help but notice that you seem to be rather lacking in terms of winter clothing as well. Am I to assume that your bubble has some sort of regulatory ability regarding temperatures?"
The feathers, it seemed, served a greater purpose than merely being soft as silk and Juka found that to be enchanting and wonderful. "I'm afraid I'm entirely guilty, my dear. Inside my floating little soap bubble, wind, rain and cold simply don't matter to me. I wonder, sometimes, what it must be like to fly out in the elements and actually feel the wind. I'm thinking you know quite well, am I write my darling birdman?"
Juka laughed in amusement, quite unable to help himself. Of course the teen couldn't haven known anything about Juka or his almost complete disregard for rules, but he knew himself quite well and, in so knowing, he found the question thoroughly amusing. "Oh, you really don't have to worry about me and sticking to the rules. I have a bit of a history, you could say." He winked in conspiratory fashion.
“What’s your name?”
"I'm Jared," Juka replied, barely managing to suppress a sigh at the necessary lie. He hated lying, hated it with a passion. He hated the fact that it had become necessary in his life to do so just in case She should somehow manage to track him down and re-imprission him. Still, the alternative was dire risk to his own well being and, perhaps by association, anyone he was with as well and he just wasn't willing to risk that.
"Music is music and art is art," Juka offered the advice, sagely. "Different mediums that come from the same place inside the hearts and minds of their creators. We artists, I think, have to stick together, don't you agree? We operate on a different wave length." When had he become so sage? Or, if not actually sage then at least he sounded sage and wise in his own head. Maybe it had something to do with being in this strangely younger body when his mind remained that of a full grown adult.
It was always a pleasure to meet fellow mutants, especially gorgeous ones covered in soft feathers. Secretly Juka had always been just a little bit envious of those whose mutants manifested in a way they could never hide. All too often the public shunned and feared them, but in truth so many of them were absolutely beautiful and the one before him was no exception. Then again, if he couldn`t hid what he was then perhaps he would never have been able to hide from Her and that would have been a very serious problem.
"I am afraid I am not quite a bird, though I am close. I would offer you a hand to shake, in proper fashion, but I imagine you need to maintain the integrity of your... bubble to remain afloat so it really would be in rather poor taste to pop it."
"I do appreciate the sentiment, my dear," Juka answered. In truth, his bubble couldn't actually be popped; it was something that had been tried before and the failing there of had almost resulted in his death. However, he didn't need to let the other know that especially when it really made no difference to the situation at hand. Which was, of course, the fact that he couldn't actually shake his hand and remain aloft as his bubble was quite clearly in the way.
"What brings you out today,"
"It seemed like a lovely day for a flight," Juka answered with a casual shrug of his slender shoulders. "I suppose I could ask you the same thing, now couldn't`I?" The fact that it was probably quite cold outside didn't really occur to him. After all, what was cold to a boy who existed inside a bubble in which the weather couldn't touch?
Juka had always enjoyed watching people. He wasn't an artist like some, at least not in the form of inked art, but they gave him inspiration both for his (formally somewhat more elaborate) costumes as well as his music. People came in a variety of different shapes, sizes and styles and when one probed a little beyond the surface, all of it came out in a rush. Many didn't give Juka much credit for being intelligent but, in his own way, he had his mental gifts. Sure, he wasn't much for math or science but when it came to people, he fashioned himself something of an expert.
“Did you have to move over Christmas? That’d suck.”
"Yup, over Christmas," Juka answered cheerfully. The lie came to his lips far easier than he would have liked it too. There was a time, not so long ago, when he couldn't bear the thought of lieing; even those little white lies that apparently everyone made. Now it was different, however, because now he had enemies and it wouldn't do for Her to catch up to him.
“I want to draw the model falling, but it needs to be hanging for that, and I’m not sure how to reach the ceiling.”
"I'm afraid I can't help much with that," Juka replied with an apologetic shrug. Actually, if he were willing to admit to the entire school that he was a mutant he probably could help given that his bubble floated everywhere, but that was completely out of the question. As far as the school was aware and would continue to be aware, he was just an eccentric teenager, nothing more and nothing less.
"I'm a singer, not an artist. Well, unless you count the art of applying makeup," he winked and grinned at his fellow teenager. "So, my dear artist, do you have a name?"
Juka felt like a ghost floating on the wind, the city far below him. Gone were the days where he could wander its streets confident in all his brightest colours. Instead, he found himself drifting far above them, admiring the throngs of people from afar. Maybe one day he'd be able to go back down there, among them, but that day wasn't today. Not yet. Not as himself and it wasn't the same going down there as someone else. Even though, now, he was someone else.
The skies, of course, were a place where Juka felt right at home and always had. The moment his power had manifested it had been his haven away from the dysfunction of his family and the inspiration that eventually compelled him to become a performer for the masses. He couldn't' perform any longer but, sometimes, drifting so far above the throngs of people he still felt the echoes of the stage. Up here, he had his thoughts and memories to fill the empty void that had become his life and at least up here he could pretend that he still had somewhere to belong, unlike within the confines of his lonely, empty manor.
"I suppose I am not the only one that decided today might be nice for a flight, even if it is snowing,"
It was unexpected to meet someone so far above everyone and the words caught Juka's distracted mind by surprise. Turning his attention to his fellow flighted newcomer, he was hit by a pang of nostalgia as he remembered his sweet snowy owl mutant who used to perform on stage with him. Of course this wasn't her but he nevertheless offered the warmest of smiles and a flourishing bow within his bubble. The bird man was a stranger met by a cloud who had spotted him inside his bubble. If he was going to turn him in, nothing Juka did now could possibly stop him nor further give away who he was in truth.
"I am Mariusz Kasparek, and you would be?"
"My my, aren't you the most lovely of birds," Juka offered his most dazzling of smiles. "An absolute pleasure and a surprise. I am Juka and your feathers look soft as silk." A name wouldn't give him away if his bubble hadn't all ready and it pained him, just a little, to hide who he was. At least here, so far above it all, he could be himself. Hopefully it wasn't something he'd come to regret.
It had been a very long time since Juka had last been to high school. Even when he was a natural teenager, he stopped going almost the moment he because a proper muscision. What was the allure of school, mediocre student that he was, when compared with the bright lights of the stage? And those bright lights didn't even begin to touch on the majesty that he had just started to learn about in the essence of his mutant power. Never had he ever considered it a curse, but rather his darkly hidden little blessing. Even now, with all the anguish it had brought to him and with his questions regarding his humanity, he still couldn't help but consider it a blessing. It was something truly his, just like his voice and his stage presence.
School, as it turned out or at least from first impressions, was much like how he remembered it. Everyone kind of looked and acted just like everyone else and no one was really confident enough in who they were to properly stand out. How very boring! Even he, muted though he was compared to his usual flamboyant majesty, was more of a sight than most anyone else around him. What a disappointment! Perhaps when he started actually going to classes things would improve. Maybe. Had he always been that cynical?
Going from outside to inside and into the cafeteria revealed only more of the same almost leading Juka to revisit the whole school idea. How much easier would it be if he could simply reveal that he had returned from the abyss, happy and healthy? Except that he couldn't. Not only was he not particularly happy but healthy was something of a matter of opinion. He might not be in any risk of dying, but surely being a 14 year old teen wasn't the healthiest thing when one was supposed to be 21? And he mustn't forget his enemies, constantly, constantly lurking in the fringes of his nightmares. He could never forget them. Or her.
That's when he spotted him. Another boy, somewhere around Juka's own present age, sitting all alone. A cursory glance marked him for an artist and, beyond that, marked him as someone not afraid to stand out from a crowd. Maybe this whole school idea wouldn't be a total bust after all. Assuming a casual and ever so charming smile, Juka made his way confidently through the throngs of students up to the boy. "Darling, I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all alone. Would you care for some company?" I didn't occur to him that his style of speaking might just give him away just as surely as his one of a kind bubbles.
It was stunning the many ways in which Juka's life had changed in recent months. Fabulous wealth was his to command and, with it, he found himself living in an extravagant manor 40 minutes outside the city, as the bird flies. Which, of course, he flew as the bird flies. Or, if not precisely as the bird flies then at least the closest possible facsimile of it. Wealth was something he was used to, although the level of wealth he now possessed was...something from a fairy-tale.
Still, the new extravagance of his existence wasn't the least of the changes in Juka's life. There was also the fact that he was now a 14 year old teenager; a stranger in the city, unknown and unknowable to everyone he had previously considered friends. Or, for that matter, enemies. It was better that way, he told himself. He couldn't get hurt that way and, if he remained a stranger to everyone then maybe his demons wouldn't catch up to him. Or rather, one demon in particular. But, best not to dwell on her. He had spent far too much time dwelling on her and the horrors she had inflicted upon him. Demon indeed.
In truth, Juka wasn't even entirely certain he could still consider himself human. He didn't need to sleep, eat, drink, expel waste, or anything else that made humans...well, human. A few minutes spent bubbled here and there and his need for food and drink disappeared. An hour spent in peaceful meditation while inside his bubble and any need for sleep completely vanished. Another hour spent inside the safety of his bubble and age ceased to affect him. So, if he didn't eat, sleep or age, was he still human? It was an answer that alluded him.
The thing about not sleeping was that it meant he had far more spare time than he ever needed or wanted. The thing about not having human contact was that it only served to amplify feeling's of alienation and inhumanity. As a 14 year old teenager, the logical answer to both of those was to start going to high school. No one would know him or the fact that he was a mutant and at least then he wouldn't feel quite so alone. That, perhaps, was the worst thing of all. The feeling of being alone, so very very alone. He was meant to be a social creature.
There was, of course, something to be said about pretending to be someone you were not. As such, Juka was less colourful than had been his want in the past. He couldn't blend in entirely, of course, as something would be far too foreign. However, instead of his usual flamboyant gowns, he instead opted for simple black and a rich, dark red, velvet cloak. His hair, instead of being its usual bright orange (or blue or green or really any other colour under the rainbow) was a simple black although still done up in somewhat elaborate fashion. It was a compromise he could live with and, combined with his much younger age and relative lack of makeup, he figured he passed for someone who was not Juka. Not, that is, unless someone was specifically expecting him to be Juka.
In times past, Juka would have simply floated from his manor home to the school but that was before he was pretending not to be himself. Instead, he opted for the much more mundane means of transportation: that being a car and driver. It took longer to arrive but what did time matter to someone like him anyway? He was dropped off just out of sight of the school itself and walked the rest of the way, yellow pikachu backpack full of books on his back. No longer was he Juka Miami, ageless and no longer human mutant. No, now he was simply Jared Bains, slightly flamboyant but otherwise normal half Japanese teenager.
