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.
Attack, defence, attack. As the green girl rolled on the floor Verdy thwapped her once, twice, missed on the third and was following the momentum of the swing around as Andy got to her feet and cried her warning. Verdy had a second to be offended by the whale implications before the ticking pillow landed in front of her chasing feet. She was suspended in midair for a moment, before landing on the pillow and skidding along the carpet on her belly.
Her black shirt against the white pillow made a stunning resemblance to a belly-skiing penguin as she slid after the fleeing green feet racing towards the game room. She continued along with the momentum as it carried her along. As the pillow slowed on the carpet (friction she dimly recalled in a far off place in her mind) she leapt off and scooped it up in her free hand. Nothing quite like being prepared, and as she approached the doorway of the games room she feared an ambush.
“Show yer-self yah cow-hearted hunk of salmon!”
She wasn’t quite sure where the salmon came from. It was definitely a step down from codfish.
The dreams. What to say about them. How much was she willing to share? To bare all in front of what was almost a stranger, in the hope that he would be able to help her. Was it better for him to know? Or for Slate to find out… which was the lesser of two evils, as it were. It couldn’t really hurt, after all, this man knowing. He had no way of contacting her if she decided not to continue coming to him. He didn’t even know where she lived. Besides, at his age he was sure to have had dreams of a similar nature.
“They are mostly innocent, or at least all of them start out that way… They usually end that way too, but they feature him and myself.”
She figured a little explanation was necessary.
“As well as working for him I’m also teaching him some of the more… basic things. His mind was wiped around the time of the Registration Act, he doesn’t remember anything from his childhood, so we’re working on building some memories.”
‘Cause that didn’t sound creepy or weird or anything. She fidgeted with her fingers in her lap, it really was innocent, at least as far as she could tell.
“Usually in my dreams we’re making memories when it stops being about the activity and starts being about us. I’m fairly sure he’s not thinking that at all, and my thinking it makes things complicated. I wouldn’t mind so much if I could not-think about it, especially when I’m with him. As it is I just try and get songs stuck in my head to override it.”
That was a lot of information in one go. She snuck a glance at the young man to check his response.
Triple Shun and a raise of the head almost to remove himself as much as possible from the water he was sharing with her. She had really done it now… A glance. Questioning? Forgiving?
~~Do you really mean that?
It was a strange feeling to have someone else’s voice in her head, kind of like a song you keep hearing even when it isn’t playing. How much did other people’s thoughts get into his head? Did it drive him nuts listening to everyone’s internal monologues? Or did he only hear things directed to him (or, on recalling his plea for the more quiet consideration of his murder at the wedding, about him)? She was fairly certain that having the constant blatant honesty, while refreshing at first, would be quite distressing. Perhaps that was why he was always impeccably dressed and moved cautiously, as if he had planned it all out in his mind first to ensure he would be well thought of.
Yes, I do.
It was strange to direct thoughts towards someone, was she shouting? Was there even a way to tell if she was ‘thinking too loud’.
At first it was quite… splashy, but once you had that under control you were excellent. Few people can control the smaller shapes, especially with that much consistency. It’s why most people swim laps, not obstacle courses.
Was there even such thing as aquatic obstacle courses? She was fairly sure there must be, with all the ridiculous sports out there (seriously, curling?). Could she swim perfectly round circles in a pool? Perhaps. She hadn’t ever really tried.
In addition to all that I posted before, I have also come down with a flu, complete with fever and that wonderful feeling of impending cranium-explosion. I have at least one day off school and we'll see how I go. I'll probably be on heaps or none at all. Sniffled-love to all Verdy
The young man looked peaceful, relaxed- poised almost- as she walked in to the spotless room. His eyes for a moment locked in on her, and for the briefest of moments she wondered if she had startled him, he seemed the type not to be shaken easily. The moment passed though, so fast it might not even have been there, and she continued in, greeting him and smiling at his tease to using his first name as such.
Imitating his position as best she could on the floor when motioned to do so she shuffled a little so she was facing the young man with silver eyes. She looked less poised and graceful, more stiff and awkward. Not quite sure what to do with her hands for a moment she paused, before folding them in her lap.
~~“Sleep well last night?”
She glanced at the man’s eyes before sighing, it was as if he could tell. She wasn’t a makeup-wearer (mainly because she didn’t have any) and the blue-grey patches under her eyes indicated the trouble she was having with sleep. Dreams, specifically.
“Not really, but I’m not sure if it was because of the dreams, or the thinking about trying to not dream the dreams… I was talking in my sleep, and woke myself up more than once.”
She felt a twinge of pity for her roommate, she was having enough difficulty sleeping with herself, how much more annoyed Andy must have been with her tossing and turning. Yes, it was definitely time to address the issue.
Posted by Verdigris on Jun 7, 2010 16:43:42 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
School is being tricky at the moment, but more than that I’m trying to complete cosplay costumes for myself and Cafas for Supanova pop-culture expo (read ‘nerd convention’) not this weekend but the next… Mine is almost finished, but his still needs a lot of work… While still getting onto MRO as much as I can this may effect my posting levels. We’re going as Richard and Cale ‘Anon from the webcomic “Looking for Group” and I’ll try and get pictures up of us in our costumes when they’re done.
Posted by Verdigris on Jun 7, 2010 16:38:27 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
It was Thursday, two forty-seven on Thursday to be precise. Verdigris hurried down a quiet street, around a corner, past a questionable puddle and through an alley. Finally, with a huff of surprise that she was early she stopped outside the big glass building and dusted herself down from all the imaginary dust.
A few deep breaths and, aside from the niggling nerves about what she was doing, she was ready. Giving the receptionist a nod as she entered she shoved her hands into her pockets and glanced at the clock.
“I have an appointment with Hunter for three?”
The statement came out as a question and the young woman checked before nodding her through. The appointment couldn’t have come at a better time, the greater half of the previous night had been spent dreaming, or trying not to dream. Poor Andy had to deal with the tossings, turnings and mutterings of her sleeping roommate. It was time to deal with the dreams.
“Good afternoon Mr Hunter, how are you?”
He had said she didn’t need to bring anything, so she hadn’t. Her legs were slipped in her softest pair of jeans, the bloodstains on her knees faded with washing to the lightest of browns. After much deliberation on sleeves or no-sleeves she had pulled on a T-shirt, opting for the dinosaur shirt she had chosen while waiting for her glasses to be completed. A simple black zipper hoodie completed the outfit and she had coaxed her hair into a pony-tail to keep it out of the way. Out of the way of what she wasn’t sure, but it kept it nice and neat anyway. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she had chosen this, whatever that ended up meaning.
Posted by Verdigris on Jun 5, 2010 16:29:46 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
She didn't need to bring anything, that was good. Especially since she didn't know what she might need (except a tinfoil hat) and no idea where to get such things. Hunter shook her hand and the deal was set. She would return on Thursday for the start of the resolutions of her reoccuring dreams.
He walked her out and she began to drift towards the Mansion. Perhaps she would do a little window shopping on the way.
She nodded slowly. She had plenty of time, especially if it meant that she could avoid some complicated moments before they happened. She would fix those dreams, 'resolve' them, as it were. She really liked her job so far, she didn’t need her subconscious confusing things. It was time she worked out what she felt, truly felt, about the matter.
“Thursday sounds lovely, thankyou.”
Her nerves might betray her a little, but she was determined to see it through. Control was a good thing and she would achieve it, with Hunter’s help.
“I will see you then, is there anything I should bring?”
She dusted off her hands on her pants and offered on to shake again. For such a young man he seemed to know a lot.
~~"Not that she wouldn't be truly lovely to sleep with if that was her desire, my dear Cafas, but do you doubt my good intentions so?"
Verdy felt her ears pinken a little, sweet yes, but a little strange. She watched him run to and cuddle the lizard boy and she put the comment down to the fact that he loved everybody. She felt a little embarrassed as first Bubbles then Cafas (she had forgotten his real name and thought more of him as Alchemist or the General) defended her cookie, Cafas seemed almost to swell with anger, and she felt a little intimidated. Was this what it was like to be a ‘damsel in distress’? If so, she was fairly sure she didn’t like it, it was… peculiar. New guy was right, it was just a cookie.
“It’s ok, its ok, I was just about to eat that cookie before you all got here is all. Everyone is very welcome to some if you’d like, I have far too many.”
On that note she placed ten more cookies in a third takeaway container and marked it with an ‘R’. She still owed a certain bigot a drink or a bus accident. In absence of both cookies would have to do. She smiled at the bubble-boy, Juka, flattering as he was he made her want to laugh and not in the same instance, would he be offended if she chuckled at the way he spoke? Perhaps, probably not, but she decided to avoid it anyway.
Lizard-boy and the Alchemist had the right idea, milk was the perfect thing to go with warm cookies. The colder the milk, the better. She did a quick head-count and retrieved five glasses from the cupboard. She knew Alchemist did something to do with metal, Juka had bubbles and lizard-boy was, well, a lizard. The new guy, though, was a different story.
“No-one has a mutation of split bodies right?”
If so they could get their own cup.
She plucked a cookie from the cooling rack and bit into it. It wasn’t too hot, all sticky and horrible, or too cold and hard, in fact, little bear, it was just right.
“Mmm, they taste pretty good too”
She winked at the lizard. Milk seemed to be just about everywhere, so she reached for the closest, after glancing at Cafas to ensure he wasn’t particularly fond of that milk. It would be terrible to protest something, only to do it yourself straight after, not to mention hypocritical.
“May I?”
Pouring the milk carefully into each glass she set it down on the bench next to the sweets Cafas had found. Speedster hmm. What they did for fun, thinking for a split second she somehow felt like she had something to prove to the newcomer, perhaps it was because he was addressing her (newly twenty thank-you very much) as a ‘kid’. He sounded like the type. She gave a truthful grin.
“Oh this and that, fight giant clay monsters, that sorta thing.”
While not exactly ‘fun’ it was pretty impressive, and each person in the room had been there to back her up if he came back with some smart-alec reply. Besides, they had been on the news, in one of the shots you could even see herself and Andy, if you really squinted and tilted your head funny.
Posted by Verdigris on Jun 3, 2010 21:31:48 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
Control, that was something she could definitely work on, if it rid her of recalling dreams while in the presence of Slate even better. She nodded slowly at his explanation of the problem forgetting her dreams, -which she was yet to figure out the reason behind- and considered his solution.
“Resolve how?”
She was fairly sure prancing straight up to Slate and announcing that she had feelings for him which may have stemmed from the lack of a paternal figure through much of her life and the fact that now she was settled she was missing James would be awkward. Very awkward. Probably more awkward even than him glimpsing the dreams that haunted her. Other than a confession she wasn’t really sure exactly how one resolved an issue like this. Which is why she was here, for help.
Posted by Verdigris on Jun 3, 2010 19:55:01 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
The door was closed.
Abruptly.
She was fairly sure their conversation was over. She paused for a few moments to make sure he wasn’t going to open the door and call anything after her. Hearing the slight creak of bed springs she walked away. There was nothing more she could do for the young man. He knew where to find her. If there was anything she could have done differently to not upset him she couldn’t think of it and with a resigned sigh she wandered down the hall back to her room.
Resisting seemed like the wrong word… it made it sound like Slate was attacking her mind, going through closed doors and stepping over ‘caution’ tape to the private areas. It was really more like leaving a book open on your desk. Someone walking past might not mean to see the pictures printed there in bold colours or read the big red writing scrawled across every page, it just happens. Especially if the pictures happen to be of that person, or their name graffitied with little hearts and question-marks.
“I think… I don’t want to lock him out, just close a few areas off so my washing isn’t hanging in my sitting room, or hanging out on the street demanding attention, to use a crummy metaphor.”
A very crummy one. Not only was she a desk, she was a house too. Lovely.
“I trust him not to go looking, but I need to bring those thoughts in I think, so they aren't right there at the front of my head. I usually can manage it if I’m awake, but sleeping is… difficult and then I remember my dreams, and that's harder than not thinking.”
She was making less and less sense the more she spoke. She decided it would be wise to stop now, if not several sentences ago.
His voice was slightly husky. Perhaps she had not paid enough attention and missed him breathing in a lungful or two of water. She eyed him with a worried frown. Seeing as he wasn’t coughing or spluttering he couldn’t be drowning too badly.
“Yes, they were. I didn’t realise it was on purpose, most people can’t control where they’re headed at first.”
She pondered splashing the young boss but didn’t want to upset him further, if he was in fact upset. She kicked gently along, staying behind him, near enough to help if he needed, but not so close as to be in his immediate splash-zone should his feet break the surface.
“Good job.”
‘Are you ok?’
Offending your employer is surely not a good move. Especially when they might just be your only chance at a solid, dependable income.
Smiling worked. Apparently so did shaking hands, seeing no sign of a bow she wrote that one off but happily offered her hand to the young man. Who thankfully had a first name far easier to pronounce than his last. ‘Mr Spiritual-Balance-Man’ was a bit of a mouthful. Hunter it was.
Mr Hunter was a balance artist, he could help her. He didn’t know what her issue was, but he was willing to help. She felt relieved, she didn’t know she had been worried about it, but lacking that worry was a nice feeling. Clearing the mind sounded like a good option, a way to find a better resting place for the confusing feelings than in a shoebox under the bed in her mind. It could only last so long against someone like Slate, if he hadn’t seen through it already.
“Both sound pretty good…”
She scuffed a foot awkwardly on the floor, trying to order her thoughts to explain in a way that wasn’t creepy. Or at least, not the most creepy way of explaining.
“I like someone I know. Which would be fine, but he’s my boss… and there’s a bit of an age difference. I could handle that myself, except he’s a telepath, and I keep dreaming about him, I can not think about him when I’m awake, but asleep? No chance. I don’t want him to know that I’m so confused about it. I don’t want him to know at all, at least until I figure out what I really feel.”
There, not too weird. The fact that the age difference was the reverse to what was usually the case, her being seventeen years older than him instead of him her was simply another spanner in the works. Could he even feel? And one of the questions that haunted her the most… did she really like him? Or just the opportunities and acceptance she felt from him.
She had never felt like this about Andy. Who technically had a much greater influence on what had happened to her so far.
