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.
All three thugs were now gone and fled and Juka and Gawain were the heroes of the day. They had saved the damsel in distress, as all good heroes must. No matter that said damsel seemed rather capable of taking care of herself anyway. They were heroes and that was that. Hopefully thier would be assailants had learned there lessons and would never again seek to assault innocent mutants.
"Mindy Random... pleased to meet you. You think you guys could make it up to the roofs? I'm sure the cops won't find us there, and we'll have enough time for introductions."
"A pleasure to meet you, my dear." Juka almost scoffed at the mere suggestion that he might, just perhaps, have difficulty ascending the rooftops. Was he not a boy in a floating bubble, after all? Instead of scoffing, however, an action that wouldn't do any good at all, he merely floated, which was both more useful and more impressive. Upon reaching the rooftops he did a spinning flip, just to show that he was as fabulous as he knew he was. It was only right that others see just how amazing he truly was, after all.
"Ya have no idea. Shoulda been here for the Christmas special."
"No," Juka disagreed emphatically, "you really shouldn't have been. "No one should be forced to take on giant clay Cthulus. I still have bruises." He pouted unhappily. Why chouldn't his bubbles help him to heal faster? Or at least heal less painfully. Sometimes life just didn't seem fair.
"So, my beautiful lady Mindy, what brings you to the attention of mean human thugs anyway?"
Juka was recognized. Much more importantly, Juka was recognized for his band and his music. He grinned broadly with joy and supreme self-satisfaction. Even here, thousands of miles away from where he had made his fame (ok, so maybe fame was overstating the fact a little but that wasn't the point), he was recognized. Oh, how truly wonderful.
"You were right the first time," Juka agreed hapily. It was with Angela Aki at Osaka and she is indeed the one who does Tegami. We were only the opening band, of course, but it was a great night nevertheless." Juka sighed in rememberence, suddenly struck by just how accutely he missed performing. If he hadn't decided all ready, he most certainly knew now that he simply must find some worthy band mates and restart his band.
"What brought you to America?"
Another dramatic sigh followed the question and a thoughtful lick of his ice cream. "My parents, I'm afraid, didn't exactly approve of my performing antics. They thought I was a disgrace to the family image so they sent me away. Promised to pay for my expenses so long as I never came back." And no matter how good some thought that might sound, for Juka it was a painful sore spot. Why couldn't they just accept him for who he was and maybe, just maybe, even be a little bit proud of him?
Upon entering the quaint little shop, Juka ran up and gave the woman in the front a big hug. "Jenise, my dear, how wonderful to see you again." The tiny woman was around 5 foot and couldn't have weighed more than 100 Lbs. Her hair, however, made up for it, adding nearly a foot to her height and being coloured a dark purple. She hugged Juka back with every bit the enthusiasm that he offered her. "Look, my dearheart, I have brought you customers." He beamed importantly.
Disengaging herself from Juka's rather exuberant embrace, Jenise greeted the other two. "Welcome to the Dutchess Boutique. If there is anything at all I can help you with or anything you would like to try on, please let me know."
This was where Juka was in his element. With the single exception of when he was on stage, this was where Juka shined. There were two things that he knew a great deal about: the first was performing and the second was fashion. Even if some found him to be a little over the top for their tastes, none could deny that he had a style all his own, complete with bright colours and all sorts of exuberant and entirely unqiue frills and ribbons. And dear Jenise and her lovely little botique was his favourite place in the city.
"Now, you darling ladies treat the sweet Lady Jenise with the proper respect that such a sweet woman is due," Juka cautioned though is stern words were offset by his wide grin.
“Potentially maybe, but letsss not get carried away, I’ve got a lot of climbing to do before I can come challenging that title.”
Juka beamed happily. It was alway so satisfying when another recognized him for the truly fabulous individual that he was even if it was rather baffling those rare cases when they were not. The only logical explanation in those cases was that they were jealous and weren't willing to admit such a self evident truth. Stull, clearly Koga was a worthy and worth while person, fabulous in his own right and willing to admit the shining merits of others. More people could learn from the little colourful ninja boy.
Thankufully for the sake of Juka's poor bruised and battered body, the kitchen was not far from the living room and cookies were not difficult to find. Even if he didn't technically have to eat anymore, there was just something satisfying about the consumption of such sweet, sugary goodness especially after a long and pain-filled battle. Not that Juka had much experience with long and painful battles, but still. And, judgeing by the reactions he got from the other two upon his return, they seemed to agree.
“You’re back! We missed you!”
Juka grinned at the ninja's enthusiastic response and offered cookies for all. Despite his aching body, life was good. Here he was with two amazing people sharing delicious cookies and finally bubbleless after weeks of not being able to get rid of it. What more could he possibly ask for?
Looking below him, Juka found that his two allies ha taken care of their assailants in rather effective fashion. Well, truly, it served them right for trying to pick on inncocent mutants like that. Maybe it would teach them a lesson. Even thugs like that couldn't be that dense could they?
"We don't need to extend this, you know? Your friend fired a shot off, and if I'm correct, unless the neighbors are deaf, we'll be having cops here in no time. I could easily get outta here, and I'm kinda sure my friends could do the same, but I'm not sure about you guys. So, get out of here, while you have the chance."
Police. Now that was one group of individuals that Juka hadn't thought about and now that he was thinking about it, he realized he really didn't want to deal with. Even though it was the humans to had instigated the conflict, he knew how the system worked and knew that because they were mutants they were likely to be blamed. It wasn't fair but one had to be realistic about such things.
"Let him down, Juka, it that's what he wants. He won't die from that fall. Break a leg, maybe."
"Now go run away like a good little boy," Juka commanded his victim. He began slowly lowering himself to the ground and dropped his victim 10 ft above the ground, enough to cause him significant pain but not enough to seriously injure him. See, who ever said that Juka Miami wasn't merciful? The man let out a pained grunt as he hit the concrete and, with one final horrified look, turned and ran. Juka grinned importantly.
"Yeah, talkin' 'bout cops" he muttered "How 'bout we get outta here and talk somewhere else?..."
"Couldn't agree more," Juka nodded in Gawain's direction. He strained to hear potential sirens but, thankfully, none were yet within perceptual range. "Juka Miami," he introduced himself, bowing towards the female stranger. Given the present situation his bow was somewhat less formal than usual.
"Thanks. Geez. Hey Juka, do you know much about the X-men. I hear all the kids talking about them, but I have no idea what it's about. Don't get me wrong I know about the X-men but I don't get what it has to do with the mansion."
Juka took a very contented sip of his hot chocolate before replying. While he may no longer have to eat or drink, strictly speaking, there was just something satisfying about hot chocolate. He could live off the stuff, something truer as of the last few months than it ever had been in the past.
"The X-men live here," Juka replied. "I don't know as much as some, but my Jewely has mentioned them now and then. I know they do good things, protect humans from dangerous mutants, try and help mutants to live peacefully alongside humans, that sort of thing. Once they return I plan to petition to join them. I want to do good in the world and I think they'd help me do so." It felt very good to finally have a purpose in his life.
"How about you?" Juka asked. "Any ambitions to join the X-men or anything else for that matter? I'm sure they could use your skills."
"Whatever insecurities you believe I have are simply mistaken as acts of faith. What am I to be insecure about when I've only spent a year outside of the home I come from. I go out, make money, spread His word, go home, pray and sleep. From what I understand even in the non-believers book that is a secure living. So before you judge on me, make sure you understand that I only judge you from my teachings. You believe I despise you, yet I would only do so for what you have said so far, NOT what you look like. I only let God judge you on that; it is simply not my position to do so."
The last thing that Juka had been expected was for the zealotous preacher to do an about face and actually begin being nice to him. Sure he still appeared to have a few screws loose and there was still an underlying sense of knowing more than the rest of them, but at least he was trying to be a little nicer and that was a marked improvement from how he had first acted. "Secure living isn't the same as feeling secure. Sounds to me like you've lived a pretty sheltered life. Here in the real world, there's more to life than survival and God. There's having a good time and making friends and performing and countless other things. If I had to guess, I'd say you don't have many friends."
The words weren't said with any sort of hostility, if anything they were tinged with sympathy and suddenly Juka did feel a bit sorry for the preacher. What must life be like if all you had to look forward to was prayer, sleep and work? Surely that couldn't' be much of a life. Could a person be happy with a life like that? Even a person as single minded as this poor boy seemed to be? Juka certainly didn't think so, though he'd been wrong about people before.
"And as for me being special. I'm not. I simply am a human doing God's work. What makes you so special. Your confidence in appearance? Pfft. Everyone has their doubts."
"Oh, you really don't know me well at all," Juka replied with a dazzling smile. Now that he felt he had deciphered a little about the enigmatic preacher, what he said no longer bothered him. "My confidence goes beyond appearance, my dear. I work very hard to ensure that I am the best I can be at everything I attempt, appearance included. Shouldn't I be proud of my accomplishments?" It was one of the few things that he had gained from his parents: the drive to be the best, even if what he attempted wasn't exactly what they would approve of. "And you also have every right to be proud of anything you accomplish. Why claim you're not special if you are?"
Juka turned to the woman, Susan. "And you, dearheart, are no demon and don't let anyone try to convince you otherwise." Juka bowed low towards the two of them. skirts billowing around his legs. "Juka Miami and it is my honor and privaledge to meet you both.
Juka wasn't presently able to pay much attention to the fights that were occurring between his two mutant allies and their chosen human thugs. His attention as focused very precisely upon his own target who previously had been in the possession of a very dangerous looking gun and who presently was trying to reach in order to regain possession of the gun. It seemed he was quite the stubborn fellow, if nothing else, though clearly he and his friends weren't too bright. Fighting mutants was simply never a smart thing to do. They should have run while they had the chance, but that chance had passed and now they would suffer the consequences.
The briefest of looks towards the other two told Juka that the others hand their foe's well in hand, thankfully since he wasn't sure that he would be able to help them until he managed to dispose of is own foe. And by dispose, he most certainly did not mean kill because he most certainly was not like that monster Aura. There were many ways to teach stubborn, stupid humans a lesson and most of those ways did not involve a final end.
With the knowledge that Juka most certainly did not want his enemy to regain the evil little gun, he sent out a tendril and bubbled it, sending it rotating around his main bubble along with the tire iron. The question now was how to dispose of the thug himself.
In a moment of inspiration, Juka floated behind his enemy, de-bubbled himself and grabbed the man around the waist. Before the man could react, Juka re-bubbled, this time including the man in his bubble, and began rising. The man began to struggle and punched Juka in the face, causing pain to blossom. That would leave a mark for sure.
"Careful," Juka warned, most helpfully. "You wouldn't want me to drop you, now would you?" The pair hovered 20 ft above the other two combatants and the man stopped struggling.
"Bloody mutant freaks! Let me the h*ll down or I swear to god you'll regret it!"
"A cross-dresser and a demon... either God's testing me again or I've become Lucifer's favorite target... maybe I'm doing a better job than I thought."
During the weeks that Juka had been trapped in his bubble he had learned something about human nature. He had learned that many of them feared and hated mutants and sometimes he coudln't blame them. After all, there were some very bad and very dangerous mutants in the world. He had also learned that mutants were considered freaks by many. All of this he had known before his experience of being trapped in his bubble, of course, but but he hadn't known in on a visceral personal level. He knew what it must be like for those mutants that couldn't' hide what they were. But he also knew that there were many humans in the world that were completely accepting of mutants and wanted them to live as equals. The good and the bad and every shade of grey in between. That was how the world worked, there wasn't a black and white good and evil, it was all in how you looked at it. Even Aura, horrible and callous though she was, wasn't all evil because he saw why she did what she did.
What Juka hadn't encountered, during all his time in his bubble and in life in general, was a mutant who appeared to hate and fear other mutants. This crazy preacher character seemed to be just such a person. And while he daily encountered people that didn't really appreciate the way he dressed (there loss really) he had yet to encounter the kind of bile that came from this judgmental little man.
"Now listen here, you distasteful little man." Juka put his hands on his hips and pit every bit of the dislike he felt for the man into his voice. "First of all, there is absolutely nothing wrong with dressing as one feels like it. I think you are clearly jealous of my confidence and individuality. Not all of us wish to dwell in tedium and mediocrity. Second of all, don't you dare start judging this lovely woman here and accusing her of being a demon. You know nothing about her and you don't have the right." Of course, he knew nothing about her either except for the fact that she wasn't a demon, but that wasn't the point. "Don't try to project your numerous insecurities and personal failings on the rest of us. Deal with your own problems and get over yourself. You are not that special and your ego is far too overinflated for your own good!" Something that he had been accused of as well, in his time, but also not the point.
"Now listen up, you fool, because I'm not going to repeat this. I spent the past four years of my life in a Roman Catholic boarding school for girls, and I've had it up to here with people like you. Answering your question: no, slavery was kept alive so long by people like you who believe physical traits like eye color are any indication of a person's nature."
Now that was something that Juka could relate to. His parents hadn't been overly religious, but as proper Japanese business people they did have to keep up appearances and that meant dealing with all sorts of judgments. Maybe he hadn't been called a demon, but he had certainly been belittled and made to feel like a lesser person. He gave the woman a sympathetic look.
"Clearly neither of us want your preaching or your self righteous attitudes. What makes you so special anyway?" He glared at the man.
Suddenly the hopping pen was back and Juka grinned happily. Unfortunately, though, it kept getting tangled in his hair. He tried to coax it out by petting it but unfortunately discovered that it was neither interested in being coaxed out of his hair nor did it seem particularly receptive to pets. It was official. Kitties were much better than hopping pens. Yes, indeed they were.
“So what do you do for a living, Juka?”
Returning from his pen inspired distractions, Juka accepted his cone and payed the man, who seemed more than happy to get rid of him. He gave up on trying to disintanlge the pen from his hair. "Oh, I'm a performer," Juka announced proudly. "I'm between bands at the moment, trying to find new band members as a matter of fact, but perhaps you've heard of Ukime? They were my band back in Japan."
The quest for Juka's return to performing was in progress full swing and the first step on the list was getting himself some new clothes. Not that his old clothes weren't completely fabulous, of course, but a new band meant a new look and a new look meant some new clothes. He was experimenting with his look somewhat. Instead of his usual vivid and bold colors, he opted for lighter colors today: A pastel blue dress accented with white and a black skirt underneath the dress that showed mostly when he was walking or twirling. His hair he wore up in elaborate fashion with pink ribbons and on his face he wore light blue lipstick with drawn swirly patterns around his eyes. Yes, he was both fabulous and beautiful and everywhere he looked he saw admiring (and sometimes shocked) eyes following his every move. Which was exactly as it should be.
Juka had only just entered the city proper, opting to go by taxi this time since it was too light out to safely float, when he spotted a mob of people gathered around a man speaking. Curious, he walked closer until he could hear what was so interesting to the masses and was rather shocked (and amused) to discover that the preacher seemed to be ranting about God and sin and mutants. Deciding that the man was clearly crazy, although a weirdly charismatic kind of crazy, when things suddenly got a whole lot more interesting. As part of some sort of demonstration, the crazy ranting man took a volunteer from the crowd and caused him to scream in agony at his mere touch. The act caused Juka to stick around. If a mutant was involved, crazy or not, then it might just be more worth while than he expected.
Unfortunately the mob surrounding the man didn't take anywhere near as kindly to the man's little display as Juka had and, quite the contrary, seemed angry to the point of violence. The chance to prove whether he was right or not was never manifested, as a second person appeared, a woman and apparently a demon, and dragged the ranting crazy man off. He had a feeling the woman was not a demon but more likely a second mutant.
And of course, there was only one thing to do when confronted by a ranting religious nut and a mutant demon and that was to follow them. Disengaging himself from the angry mob, skirts swaying around him, Juka followed.
"I'm not a demon you bloody idiot, I'm a mutant like you. And for the record, if I was a demon I am sure I could find something to grab on. Hurting people in the name of God? Seriously?"
"Oh, I knew you both must be mutants," Juka announced as soon as he was within hearing distance of the others and out of hearing distance of the mob. "You sure did make that mob angry," Juka informed the man, most helpfully he thought.
For one beautiful moment it looked like the three baddies had been scared off by Juka's (because certainly it must be because he had been so very intimidating) display of aggression. He prepared himself to strut (float) in exultant success. Alas, though, it was not to be and instead of fleeing like good little cowardly thugs should do, the three regrouped and attacked. Oh how sad a day it was when thugs refused to get scared off by displays of mutant power. Oh sad day indeed.
Two of the thugs made to attack Gawain (who Juka most certainly was not going to attack again despite the mistaken identity case during the fight with Cthulu) and one chose to target Juka himself, gun pointed at the floating boy and all. And Juka most certainly did not like guns. Though he'd never before been shot, something told him that being shot was not something he would like to do anytime soon. He'd been stabbed before and that was bad enough, getting shot seemed so much worse than getting stabbed.
The stranger that the two of them had shown up to rescue made a rather impressive attack on one of Gawain's assailants, proving that she was indeed a mutant. After the brief look in the other direction, Juka returned his attention to the man with the gun. The gun that was, unfortunately (and he was hoping it would have proven to be his imagination) still pointed at him.
In such a situation there really was only one thing to do, and that was to rely on his speed and hopefully an unpredictable move. The tire iron just wasn't going to make much of a shield against a bullet and his bubble wasn't any sort of barrier at all. Juka circled around to the left, saw his assailant take careful aim at him, then darted sharply to the right. A shot went off, narrowly missing the edge of his bubble, before he darted towards his enemy and struck the man's hand that was holding the gun with his tire iron. With an angry yell, the gun went flying. Point 1: Juka!
"Friend? Of mine?" Juka blinked in confusion. "I think it likes you a lot more than it likes me." More blinking and close observations of the animated pen. He hadn't ever seen an animated pen before and probably wouldn't get the opportunity again. Thus, he must certainly take full advantage of the current opportunity and make the most of it.
"Here, pen pen pen," he called to it in a sing song voice. The man with the ice cream gave him a strange and uncomfortable look. Well, that man probebly hadn't seen a perched animated pen either so, given that, Juka couldn't really blame the man. Probably hadn't seen a boy in a bubble either, but that wasn't the point.
"Give me a maple walnut 2 scoop cone, my dear," Juka asked the man, who was presently staring dumfounded at the two humans, the perched pen an the octoclip. And really, Juka couldn't blame the man for staring at himself either. After all, he probably was the most gorgeous person the man had ever met. Who wouldn't stare?
When Juka was bored he floated and more and more often he was bored. It seemed that was the result of having an extra 8 hours a day to play with, given the fact that he no longer needed to sleep. Of course, he tried his best to fill up his time as much as was possible, doing things like training with his anvils and his newly devlopted power and practicing for his intent to find himself a new band and begin to properly perfom again. But, the problem was, even if he spent hours doing both of those activities, he couldn't spend the entire day doing so. 24 hours was a long time to deal with, and so he floated.
It was evening currently, just after dark, which tended to be his favourite time to go floating. It wasn't so late that there wasn't stuff happening far below him, but it was dark so there wasn't much worry about those interesting people below him spotting and harrasing him for being a mutant. It was, after all, never much fun to be harrassed simply because you could float in a bubble and they couldn't. Its not like he ever hurt anyone.
"The hell...! She's a mutant!! One of them damned muties!!! I mean, you guys didn't see how she showed up? She almost flew or something!"
Juka blinked. Someone had seen him? It wasn't unusual for people to mistake him for a female, but it was rare for people to notice him while he was floating at night. Floating closer, he realized quickly that the humans weren't yelling at him, hadn't even seen him in fact, but were yelling at another woman that he had never seen before. A woman that, very obviously, looked to be in some trouble and if she was in trouble than, of course, he had to try and save her.
Curshing himself under his breath for not having an anvil with him (you'd think he'd have learned by now to always have at least one anvil with him), Juka looked around frantically for something to use as a weapon. He found a discarded tire rim nearby, not the most ideal weapon but it would do for now, and prepared to charge the gang with his newfound weapon.
"Yeah, cutting sounds like a plan. Now ya'll wanna get outta here with y'r tail between y'r legs before I let ya know what my mutant powers are."
Now that was a voice he recognized and an individual he recognized as well. Juka commanded the metal tire rim to begin rotating around his bubble. "And before I have the opportunity to really show you what I can do," Juka stated definately, in his best intimidating voice. Which, given the fact that he was a boy in a dress floating in a bubble, was probably not very intimidating at all, but it was the effort that counted, right?
