The X-men run missions and work together with the NYPD, striving to maintain a peaceful balance between humans and mutants. When it comes to a fight, they won't back down from protecting those who need their help.
Haven presents itself as a humanitarian organization for activists, leaders, and high society, yet mutants are the secret leaders working to protect and serve their kind. Behind the scenes they bring their goals into reality.
From the time when mutants became known to the world, SUPER was founded as a black-ops division of the CIA in an attempt to classify, observe, and learn more about this new and rising threat.
The Syndicate works to help bring mutantkind to the forefront of the world. They work from the shadows, a beacon of hope for mutants, but a bane to mankind. With their guiding hand, humanity will finally find extinction.
Since the existence of mutants was first revealed in the nineties, the world has become a changed place. Whether they're genetic misfits or the next stage in humanity's evolution, there's no denying their growing numbers, especially in hubs like New York City. The NYPD has a division devoted to mutant related crimes. Super-powered vigilantes help to maintain the peace. Those who style themselves as Homo Superior work to tear society apart for rebuilding in their own image.
MRO is an intermediate to advanced writing level original character, original plot X-Men RPG. We've been open and active since October of 2005. You can play as a mutant, human, or Adapted— one of the rare humans who nullify mutant powers by their very existence. Goodies, baddies, and neutrals are all welcome.
Short Term Plots:Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
The Fountain of Youth
A chemical serum has been released that's shaving a few years off of the population. In some cases, found to be temporary, and in others...?
MRO MOVES WITH CURRENT TIME: What month and year it is now in real life, it's the same for MRO, too.
Fuegogrande: "Fuegogrande" player of The Ranger, Ion, Rhia, and Null
Neopolitan: "Aly" player of Rebecca Grey, Stephanie Graves, Marisol Cervantes, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, Sabine Sang, Eupraxia
Ongoing Plots
Magic and Mystics
After the events of the 2020 Harvest Moon and the following Winter Solstice, magic has started manifesting in the MROvere! With the efforts of the Welldrinker Cult, people are being converted into Mystics, a species of people genetically disposed to be great conduits for magical energy.
The Pharoah Dynasty
An ancient sorceress is on a quest to bring her long-lost warrior-king to the modern era in a bid for global domination. Can the heroes of the modern world stop her before all is lost?
Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
Adapteds
What if the human race began to adapt to the mutant threat? What if the human race changed ever so subtly... without the x-gene.
Atlanteans
The lost city of Atlantis has been found! Refugees from this undersea mutant dystopia have started to filter in to New York as citizens and businessfolk. You may make one as a player character of run into one on the street.
Got a plot in mind?
MRO plots are player-created the Mods facilitate and organize the big ones, but we get the ideas from you. Do you have a plot in mind, and want to know whether it needs Mod approval? Check out our plot guidelines.
Posted by Verdigris on Jun 26, 2012 21:04:01 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
Three layers of concrete, metal and bars were security measures that made Cafas’ shop safe from shoplifters with a hankering for swords pre boom-day. Now what had been a solid concrete wall around the mechanic’s yard was mostly levelled, the car bodies had long ago been looted for everything useful, from the batteries to the seat coverings and the whole area was smothered in the dust that coated everything these days. The huge roller doors were still intact, but warped inwards and non-functional and most of the corrugated metal that had formed the walls had been torn away either by the force of the explosion or by looters scavenging what they could to survive.
Inside the shell of what was once the workshop several more car corpses littered the area, gouges in the concrete floor showing where the force of the shockwave had flung them. At a glance, or even a prolonged look, the area seemed empty and long deserted, everything useful pilfered and nothing worth searching left. If you knew where to look though, behind a land rover flipped against the wall with such force the bonnet had crumpled and the glass in every window shattered out, there was a metal grill with a locked padlock outside a solid steel door with an assortment of locks making a neat line down the frame side. There was also a pass-code box, or what had once been a pass-code box, the wires inside cut and melted and the latch attached non-functional.
Inside the closed door was Verdy’s home, the place she had lived ever since the explosion. Thankfully she had been at the shop when the first bomb fell, and Jack had been with her. She had seen the devastated ruins of what was once the mansion and time and time again she had thanked her lucky stars she had arrived early to set up. The shop had been reworked in the time she had been living there. The swords still hung on hooks around the walls, but the glass cabinet that had once held all the daggers and pretty knickknacks had been emptied and was now filled with an assortment of useful things, materials, the scraps of leather and her leatherworking tools from before, a few books, things she found while scavenging that might later by used for something else, or perhaps traded. The cash register had been removed and sat in the corner, she was sure the mechanics in it would be useful for something and it was too heavy to carry away, so she mainly left it alone, behind closed doors the small kitchenette and the storeroom looked much the same, except there was now a mattress on the floor of the storeroom, and the kitchen sink was dusty and full of bits and pieces. It was mainly clean though, and it was safe.
She was sitting at the counter, candle burning, repairing the strap on her bag yet again. Jack lay on the floor napping, there was no point burning energy unless it was necessary, and their long walks in search of food tired him out now more than ever. Verdy didn’t like to think about it, but he was getting old, and the last winter had been hard on him.
Posted by Verdigris on May 22, 2012 20:24:25 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
I'm also trying to get back in the swing of posting with Verdy, perhaps we could thread together? She works at Cafas' sword shop, is often out and about walking her dog, or we could organise a random bumping into each other somewhere in the city if you like ^_^
Posted by Verdigris on May 22, 2012 9:05:14 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
Essays, assignments and other such annoyances have kept me away from MRO for far too long, on the bright side by June all that should be dealt with, and I am looking forward to dipping my toes into this post-apocalyptic world <3 Fallout. Not sure what role, if any Verdy will be playing... pretty sure she'll be keeping Capt. Jack with her though. Shall have to plot more before I decide~
Andrea wasn’t so hesitant about the glomp-snuggles as Verdy had been, and as such she saw fit to wrap her arms around her green bestie and squidge her lovingly. The lasagne bumped against her friend’s back and the smaller snakes wriggled against her face a bit, which was a little disconcerting, but all the loneliness and sad feelings due to her friend’s absence faded with the cuddle, Andy was back.
Her new roommate? Oh, she must mean Jack, who was sitting obediently behind her in the doorway, she clicked her fingers and he walked up to besides her, eyeing the snakes warily.
“This is Captain Jack, Jack for shortness.”
Thankfully the black-and-white captain was paying attention as the white snake tried to launch itself from the shoulders of its… mother? and jumped away, barking at the indecency of being a snake snack in his own room. Eyes wide and mouth in a perfect ‘o’ Verdy watched the scene unfold and her friend writhing on the floor. If she wasn’t certain that the white tube of scales was attached she might have tried to pry it from Andy, but afraid of hurting her friend (as well as experiencing the same instinct that tells you not to get in between fighting dogs) she merely watched until the snakes were suitably restrained. The big one looked positively reproachful.
The snakes safely behind the green girls head, Jack calmed and stopped barking, turning instead to nuzzle the back of Verdy’s knee. The absurdity of the whole situation, coupled with the matching look of reproach on the fluffy captain’s face prompted a chuckle, which turned to an all out chortle at her friend’s guilty apology.
“No harm, no foul.”
She sat on the floor to join her friend and rummage in the bag to see how many pieces of cutlery they had given her (two forks huzzah! but only one knife…) she looked quizzically at her friend. She looked skinny-er, and honestly Verdy could do without the second helping of lasagne.
“You had dinner yet? Want to join?”
She was fairly sure she had some plastic plates stashed in their room somewhere, remnants from some crafting project or another, if not they could always eat straight from the foil tray it was in.
Posted by Verdigris on Apr 25, 2012 0:54:51 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
Cafas didn’t mind Jack visiting the shop, so she had been taking him with her to keep her company, and give any potential sword wanting thugs second thoughts about not paying. Today had been uneventful, one weedy nerd picking up (or rather, dragging out with Verdy’s help) a replica video game sword which she was fairly sure had connotations with a character called Cloud. Despite the single customer she still saw the day as a success, since skinnyarmsMgee had insisted that the replica be made to scale and solid meaning a total charge price of three thousand dollars, cash. Her only real challenge had been assisting the customer with getting the sword to his mother’s car, in the end after a while struggling with what felt like a tonne of solid sharpness she had had the bright idea of borrowing the skateboard-type slider from the mechanic’s part of the shop to prop the sword on so they could they could drag it out to the car.
She had locked the cash away and closed up shop satisfied, stopping on the way to collect something tasty to nibble on. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the mansion food halls, or the kitchen, or the food itself, she just sometimes had a hankering for a big slab of lasagne the mansion just couldn’t satisfy. The shop she visited apparently had assumed Jack would be sharing her meal, either that or their usual customer had a tummy capacity double that of Verdy’s. Regardless of the reason, the ‘serving’ came in two fully loaded plastic containers, with a stack of napkins and an assortment of takeaway cutlery and needed to be double bagged due to its weight.
Finally the mansion loomed before them and she made her way inside. The walk wasn’t really that far, but the chill and the knowledge that Jack wasn’t allowed on public transport made the smell of the food that much harder to bear. The hallways were traversed with a minimum of contact with other students (probably due to the current mealtime) and she arrived at her own door swiftly. Pushing it open she was suddenly confronted with a greenfaced head of snakes, which froze her in her tracks.
Thankfully the freeze was temporary and self inflicted and after a millisecond’s pause she recognised the pattern of mottles across the skin of her roommate, her long lost roomie suddenly back from wherever. Lasagne forgotten she had the foresight to command Jack to sit, despite being used to the assortment the mansion held there was no guarantee he wouldn’t launch himself at the strange wiggly things in their room. She turned her eyes back to the other woman and a tentative smile began to work its way across her face.
“Andy?”
The snakes were really the only thing that saved her roomie from an all out glompage, Verdy had to settle for bouncing up and down on her toes instead.
Posted by Verdigris on Apr 24, 2012 23:44:02 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
There was no way for the librarian to know that it had been Verdy all that time ago gallivanting around atop the library shelves, unless he was a mind-reader, or some form of makes-you-tell-the-truth-er, still she felt a twinge of fear as she entered, as if alarms might go off identifying her as some form of library miscreant.
The relative silence of the entry, hushed ‘beep’s from the borrowing machine, the hum of communal computers and the occasional thuck-zzzzzzt of the printer-copiers, made her feel instantly better. Surely if there had been some form of identifying feature about her the repercussions would have been instant, some form of zappy machine that shocked her right back out the door. Yeah, she needed to stop thinking about it and calm down before she approached a helper for help.
There seemed to be a horde of students a few rows in, ranting about some biology project due the next day, and it took a few moments for someone to respond to her gentle ‘ding’ on the bell that clearly shouted ‘press me!’, a gentle looking woman with buggy eyes emerged from the shelves and skittered over. After explaining what she was looking for (while politely gazing at the woman’s left cheek as she couldn’t tell which of the multiple hexagon irises she might be looking through) she followed the woman as she scuttled away through the maze of shelves. Finally, tucked somewhere in the hazy realm between warcraft and hobbies was the section she was after; swords.
The woman left to deal with what sounded like a less-than-positive crash an aisle or two away and Verdy was left to flick through the books on the subject. If she was going to be selling the sharp, pointy objects it would be better if she had at least a conversational knowledge, enough to be able to tell the difference between a katana and a shuriken at least.
Finally with three books on swords she figured she had enough light reading to get her through her first shift at least, and moved towards the borrowing counter. Alas the biology students had decided mere seconds before that there was only so much studying to be done in the library and were headed to the common room. They had barely beat her to the counter, but one was now in hot debate with the librarian about an overdue book. Apparently ‘gooifying’ said text wasn’t an excuse for its lateness, and either a fee was to be paid, or the book returned. As they argued the subject Verdy perused the books on the returns trolley, an older book on leather craft caught her eye and she picked it up and flicked through, looking at the pictures until it was her turn at the desk.
Books tucked safely under her arm she returned to her room to flick through them and decide what to wear to the shop tomorrow.
Posted by Verdigris on Apr 12, 2012 11:31:56 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
She didn’t want to seem desperate, but the thought of having a purpose, even if it was something as simple as opening up shop each morning, made her rather excited. Still, jumping up and down about 25 an hour, reasonable as it was, might have changed his mind about his potential employee, so she simply smiled and nodded.
Suddenly numbers! Thousands of them! Or, at least that’s what it felt like. She scrabbled for a pen she knew was on her bedside table whilst listening intently to the numbers. She was fairly sure she remembered the first set, so she scribbled down the second as he spoke them then the first with a question mark next to them. Her palm wasn’t the best of notepads, but it was the best she could do given his speedy recital when she didn’t want the alarm going off and startling the mechanic they shared the building with, no point in upsetting potential friends.
“That sounds reasonable.”
Paid on commission, an incentive to help him be as efficient in handling as many orders as possible with optimum customer satisfaction and chance of return business. All sounded good, and she had the keys and codes already, all that was really left to ask was one thing.
Posted by Verdigris on Apr 12, 2012 9:12:35 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
After an Austennian moment pondering the dying daisies she was attempting to grow on the windowsill (a dismal attempt since her florist friend was absent, and that reminded her she should probably water them…) she changed the subject and he returned to the conversation. Apparently business in the sword making trade was pretty good, who’d have thought? Good enough, in fact, that he was barely on top of it, although that might have been due to all the time spent with a certain cat-boy she had heard about.
“You taking resumes? I think I’ve almost got the hang of official forms”
True story, although numbers weren’t necessarily her strong point they always seemed to make sense and balance themselves out eventually with minimal prodding or boredom, there was something totally satisfying about income and expenses columns lining up in the positive. Stock take and filing came easier to her and despite the minimal contact between herself and the clients of the labs she was fairly confident in her people skills, nothing a week or two in retail couldn’t brush her up on.
“I might not know a heap about swords, but the paperwork side can’t be that different business to business.”
Plus that gave her an excuse to peek at the shinies for slightly longer than might be acceptable for a friend dropping in, keys and all. Perhaps she might even see something that took her fancy and be able to set it aside until she had the dollars to make it her own.
Idly she wondered if he had business cards, she had recently received an email that seemed borderline spamlike, which offered a deal on bulk orders of more than one hundred business cards and she had played around on their designer sofware for an hour or so, but had no reason to print them off so chickened out at the ‘pay now’ screen.
“Anything other than taxes and basic paperwork need doing?”
If there was anything related to smithing that she would be in charge of she would have to do some serious research, or learn quickly on the job. Neither option was particularly offensive to her, in fact she found the idea of doing something other than knitting and occupying herself walking Jack or with homework rather exciting.
A shop? He had a shop full of all things sharp and shiny? How exciting! She would have to visit it once she came into a little more money. The letting-you-go package from her last job had almost run out, despite the nature of the mansion’s food and board. Where did they get the money anyway? Donations perhaps, from guilty parents, or concerned citizens, or citizens concerned with keeping all mutants out of the ‘normal’ education system. Regardless, she needed some more green stuff before she started spending it on shiny stuff.
Now he was asking her a question, an unfair one in her opinion, had anyone other than Cafas ever done such a thing? Once she had looped together a whole bunch of the circles from the key-rings her mutation had ‘found’ to make something she had called chain-mail in her mind, but bringing that up now seemed a little silly and immature.
When put like that, chain-mail sounded much too hard to bother with, despite the apparent fluidity it provided and its general bad-assery. No matter the final price, surely passing out on the job was considered too high risk. After a seconds hesitation he pulled out and offered her a set of keys and permission to just turn up. Trust acquired! She could go and look at the shinies whenever she wanted, huzzah. Of course she would be responsible, but the thought of that many pointy objects in one place gave her slight chills.
“Ah, actually I don’t. They downsized a while back, and apparently the intern receptionist was an affordable loss.”
She crinkled her nose. They had handled it nicely, given her a larger-than-usual pay packet to ease her way out and she did understand. Still, it wasn’t her favourite moment to think about, and as such she usually didn’t.
“I learned a lot though, and I’ll be way better at my next job for it, so I guess it’s not all bad news. How about you? Enough people want swords that you could make a living?”
There was something totally right about mutants using their powers in their day-to-day jobs, being effective and efficient. Personal gain without the evil used by some mutants to get it, without pain or loss to anyone else.
Posted by Verdigris on Mar 31, 2012 2:33:37 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
The sword was much heavier than the wooden ones she’d played with before, but not as heavy as she had expected from the rippling muscles on every man-with-a-sword in movies she had seen. She took a sneaky peek at Cafas’ biceps and was not disappointed, man-with-a-sword had muscles. Man-with-a-sword also had a boyfriend, as was common knowledge around the mansion, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look.
Widened… did that make it a broadsword? She wasn’t sure, but made a mental note to google it later, rather than look silly in front of her friend. Perhaps she would even take a trip to the library and borrow a book or two on swords, learn some things. The danger room, ah yes, that room in which she had once attended a wedding, which stayed locked and inaccessible to the general mansion populace. She had been cooped up in her room too long, Cafas was an X-man? An x-man who’s mutation made perfect objects, not those with obvious craftsmanship signifiers, of course.
Did she like swords? Well, duh. Did anyone not like swords? Unless they had been impaled by one, or perhaps seen one in the hands of someone truly evil, actually there were probably lots of people who didn’t like swords.
“Shiny, sharp and generally bad-ass. I certainly do, don’t know much about them though.”
Posted by Verdigris on Mar 29, 2012 7:17:08 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
Verdigris took the offered sword after a miniscule moment of hesitation, he had been swinging it around a second ago and she was fond of her fingers, and inspected it. Heavy, check, blunt, well it wasn’t sharp/I], straight edged… well it was a sword, not a cutlass, she knew that much from her pirate research. The finish on the blade wasn’t as shiny as she expected, especially not from a metal-mutant, and the squiggles of orangey metal throughout were more squiggly than flowing rivulets of colour, still it was pretty impressive for something hand-made by someone as young as her pink-topped friend.
“You made this? Wow.”
She shrugged the sword’s appearance off, it was not his regular sword, he said so himself, which meant it was either for show or practicing. Her bet was on practicing, as having a heavier practice sword would surely make swinging the real one a lot easier and faster, while the bluntness could reduce the number of trips needed to Doc Prof by his sparring partner.
“I didn’t know the mansion had a forge, or is it mutation-made?”
Either way the piece must have taken hours, despite its less than glamorous appearance. She really needed to take up a hobby, without a job she had far too much free time, and although the matching quilts on each bed were testament to her emerging skill with knitting needles, there were bound to be other things she could try, a musical instrument perhaps.
Posted by Verdigris on Mar 29, 2012 6:15:40 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
Verdy smiled in her sleep and rolled over. Today James was going to take her out riding on the new horse his parents had been saving for for months. The horse was glorious, she had seen it arrive earlier in the week, chestnut sides gleaming and dark eyes wise in the dim light of the trailer. James’ parents had spent the week conditioning it, getting it used to the sights and smells (and other horses) in their pasture. Today was the day she was allowed to ride it.
Her eyes opened slowly, despite her excitement, and she found her nose was feeling a chill, which was odd as the weather should have been a balmy constant. Blinking into focus she moved her eyes across the litter of treasures on the bedside table, none of them hers. Curious she wriggled upright and found herself in a bed she didn’t know, in an unfamiliar room, complete with a strange- but seemingly friendly- dog panting up at her. The pyjama shirt was so loose around her that her rolling had managed to get it on backwards, the happy dinosaur logo against the bed head, and the undergarment beneath it was hardly necessary. She giggled, she had bought her first training bra weeks ago, but this seemed more like something her mother might hang on the line, and the front cups seemed hysterically empty.
Despite her unfamiliar territory twelve year old Verdy was curious, so she wiggled her way off the bed and began hunting through the draws for something more her size than the current getup which seemed determined to writhe its way off her body. The friendly dog snuffled at her bare toes as she searched and she giggled again, his cold nose tickled against her feet.
Finally, tucked right at the back of a draw filled with other full-sized underwear she found a skirt more her length, with a belt that matched, and had enough holes to tighten around her waist. The button-up shirt that went with it was the right length but a little loose around the arms and chest, so she pulled on a white singlet that fit snugly underneath. Little did she know her older form wouldn’t be caught dead roaming the mansion hallways in that particular outfit she had chosen.
After a visit to the bathroom to peek in the mirror (green in her hair! How strange) and borrow the hair brush that lay there she wandered back through the room towards the other door. Friendly dog ‘whuff’-ed and held a lead out in his mouth, and who was she to say no. Curious and a little muddled she left the room and began to wander the hallway, searching for something familiar in this unfamiliar place.
Posted by Verdigris on Mar 27, 2012 2:25:14 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
The shower seemed to do the trick, that and the muffled sounds of an intruder to her room. Jack was making happy-to-see-you-friend noises, so she unhurriedly scrubbed the last of the suds from her skin and grabbed a towel to make herself semi-decent before poking her head out of the bathroom door, releasing clouds of steam as she did so. The pink hair of her alchemist friend met her curious eyes and she smiled at him. Jack seemed to know full well who had paid for his doggy-masseuse, tail thumping approval of the young man across his knee.
“Just be a second.”
He called her mate, heh, Aussies. Thankfully she had had the foresight to bring a bundle of clean clothes into the bathroom, and she scrambled into them as soon as she was semi-dry. Her hair was still dripping down her back as she re-emerged, tousling it with the smaller of her towels. The young man had a familiar shape fastened at his waist, but she doubted it was the same material as the wooden pirate ones she and Andrea had practiced with, that were tucked safely in the bottom draw of her dresser.
“Nice sword.”
Not that she could tell much from the visible hilt, but still, compliments were not lost on men with swords, besides he was more likely to show her if she made a comment.
Posted by Verdigris on Mar 20, 2012 4:46:55 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
Verdy was having a rather unpleasant morning. No hot water seemed to be forthcoming from the taps in her bathroom and for the life of her she couldn’t find a clean pair of jeans, all of them drenched from ankle to knee from walking Jack in the wet grass. Her sneakers were soggy and draining in the bath and her boots had grown a mind of their own and gone wandering, slippers (specifically the green fluffy ones she had bought herself for Christmas) were therefore the only option for her tootsies and the dreaded trackie pants, reserved for washing days and other such emergencies, the only for her legs. Her shirt choices were more varied, but none seemed to match with either her slippers of green furriness or the strip of god-awful pink along each leg of the trackies.
Eventually after much rummaging she had narrowed it down to a yellow and white wide-checked tee or a royal purple baby-doll butt-length dress-type top that she wasn’t quite sure where she got. The purple seemed to go less glaringly with both the pink and the green than the yellow, plus it had sleeves long enough to nullify the need for a jumper in her wanderings between the kitchen and her room.
Verdy checked the water situation again before she left, still the lukewarm chill that suggested the next door neighbour who shared the hot water system had been soaking in a hot bath all night (which was in fact exactly what the young woman had been doing, having been sultana-ed in front of the heating duct she had spent the whole night topping up the bath with hot water in an attempt to return herself to her grapey mutant glory) so Verdy was doomed to wander the halls with bed hair topping off her less than glamorous combo. Not her best look.
After ensuring that Jack’s bowls were full of both food and water she shoved her keys into her oh-so-comfy pocket and wandered down to the kitchen to make herself breakfast. Aside from one snide snigger from what seemed to be a porcupine mutant, with quills instead of hair prickling out from under his cap, she made it to the table without incident. Her plate holding an assortment of jammed toast and her bowl was full of breakfast bubbles that simultaneously ‘snapped’, ‘crackled’ and ‘popped’ as she scooped at them with her spoon. Her attention was focused on the food, and she nommed in relative peace.
