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 12, 2011 18:34:05 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
I’m sick Not throwing up, but I wish I would so I’d feel better... Even looking at the keyboard for this is making me nauseous. Will be back as soon as I can type without chucking. Love Verds
Posted by Verdigris on Jun 10, 2011 7:33:28 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
“Lawn-dering even”
She gave a serious nod.
He rinsed out the remainder of the biting little critters out as he introduced himself and sighed over the nonexistent nicer meeting arrangement, one with more clothing and less embarrassment.
“Ah, but I mightn’t have stopped to talk to you then. Besides, your’s isn’t the strangest skin I’ve seen by a long shot.”
That would probably go to her green friend Andrea, who she hadn’t seen in some time, actually. He changed the subject back to jogging and she nodded. Work or no, it was good sometimes to just get out and exercise, get the endorphins flowing and all that.
“Yes, sometimes more peaceful after they leave.”
Because the frantic nagging of soccer moms, the hiss and whirr of household convenience appliances designed to make the morning routine easier, all combined to give an early morning vibe that was more stress than relaxation.
((OOC: Sorry it's so short! I wanted to post before I went to bed, but this is all my muse could come up with...))
Posted by Verdigris on Jun 9, 2011 23:30:32 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
She chuckled at his description of the coffee ad, it would indeed appeal to somewhere upholding the tradition of calling sizes what the actually were. Who was supposed to know what a Grande was anyway?
“Religious nuts will be offended no matter what.”
It was true, if they weren’t protesting ads for safe sex, or mutant rights, they were complaining that Jesus’ hair was quite the right shade of brunette in a certain painting. Ignoring the fact that said son of god would have been an Arab and probably looked somewhat like those they discriminated against as they hopped off airplanes across the country. Eh, some people just refused to be content.
He gave a little information about himself and she politely nodded. Soccer she had used to be interested, back in the days of innocence before she ran away, but she hadn’t gone back to it in years. Perhaps it was time she did so.
“Heh, we seem to be doing a lot of the same. No soccer for me though, a pity. And I hope to pass my classes, I’ve been working quite hard on them.”
Of course she had. No surfing the internet for hours at a time, no indeed.
“I work as well, sometimes, and I have a dog who likes to go on walks.”
But only when it suited him.
She sipped her drink, now devoid of foam or anything slightly resembling it, and smiled as the warmth spread through her. With that essay submitted she was free, free as a bird, or a rock, or a tree, or some other free thing.
Posted by Verdigris on Jun 9, 2011 23:05:44 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
((OOC: Sorry about the age mixup, I went for birthdates in the profiles, if Verdy was born in May 1990 and she is turning 17, and Agnes was born in October 1993, then she would be not yet 14? I can edit it to be a later birthday if that suits better ))
~~“Umm,”
The girl hesitated, Verdy watched the battle between pride and hunger, with a large amount of suspicion mixed in as well. She would have hesitated too. Probably would have shied away from the stranger speaking to her. The girl refused, then looked at her again and drew the same conclusion about her as Verdy had when she noticed the girl’s appearance.
The girl thanked her and wiped her eyes, Verdy felt a little embarrassed (she didn’t mean to make her cry!) and almost disappointed the girl didn’t want to share, it would have been nice to make sure someone else was alright on her birthday.
The girl had seemed like she was going to leave, now however she retuned to the bench and began hunting for something in her bag. Verdy glanced away politely and nibbled a little more from her muffin. When the girl held up the soda cans she felt a tingle of anticipation. Still sealed meant there would be bubbles and everything! And bubbles always made an empty stomach seem fuller. She smiled at the friendly young girl. Who’d have thought, muffin, soda and a friend on her birthday, it was starting to look like a real party.
“Alright, but only if you go halfsies with the muffin with me.”
Fair trade off. She broke the muffin carefully down the middle so equal parts were previously nibbled, and smooth crust from the baking. After a second struggling with the paper patty-case it too was torn in half and she held one out to the younger girl in exchange for the soda.
The muffiny goodness against her tongue was perfect. It would have been a good muffin anyway, although overpriced, but the fact that she got it for free and she was so hungry just made it better. Savouring every movement of the baked goodness across her tongue, the way the body crumbled, while the chocolate chips held firm before slowly melting away. Opening her eyes as someone drew near she gave them a perfunctory glance before they sat down. The girl looked younger than her, maybe fourteen or fifteen, and her clothes were in worse shape than Verdy’s own.
The bulging backpack the girl slung from off her shoulder had the same straining seams as the one tucked under the bench already, all the miscellaneous objects she had found through her mutation, some hopefully of worth when traded in to the pawnbroker who didn’t ask questions. Judging the girl through glances and stolen looks Verdy pondered her as she nibbled more on her muffin. Part of her wanted to simply look the other way, ignore the girl and scoff the muffin down before she lost even a single crumb. The other part encouraged generosity and reminded her of all the times people had turned their backs on her on park benches, or outside cafes or even in diners when she had to seek refuge from the cold indoors.
She had felt that same look of jealousy and longing that the girl was trying to hide dance across her own features, and she turned to look at the younger girl. As much as the smaller selfish part screamed at her not to, she held up the muffin and tilted her head. Her voice was still heavily accented, as well as raspy from ill-use, but it served her well enough to ask her question.
“Would you like some?”
Because contrary to birthday rules, sometimes it was better to give than to receive.
He donned the dripping garment and offered an explanation. Ants. Of the fire-biting-nasty-crawly-kind. All over him, inside his clothes and shoes, probably his hair once he pulled the shirt over his head. Ouch.
“Ouch.”
Good thing he wasn’t allergic, otherwise she would have been calling an ambulance and possibly escorting him to the hospital, rather than chatting cheerfully with him on the lawn. On the lawn of a house that apparently wasn’t even his.
He grinned at her, and questioned the purpose of her morning jog. She smiled back and slipped both her music player and the hand clutched around it into her pocket, and her other hand into the pocket on the other side. Sweat was trickling down her back and the temperature was steadily rising and here she was standing in the street talking to a total stranger who was dripping and only now wearing pants.
“Oh regularly, I have a strange compulsion to do so. You are the first who has catered to my whim however.”
She scraped the hair that had escaped back up into her ponytail and wiped her brow. Why did exercise always seem more difficult once it had been put on the shelf for a while?
“Day off, it’s a good way to avoid homework and housework.”
Not that she had really any of either, but it was a convenient excuse.
“I’m Verdy, by the way.”
Because the last older man she had bothered to stop and talk to while on a jog had turned out to be a policeman and a good friend.
One whole year with no security, no home, and limited hygiene.
Happy Birthday dear Ver-deeeey, Happy Birthday to you.
Singing the song silently in her head she blew out an imaginary candle on the half-eaten muffin with a smile. It was truly a happy day when someone walked away from their café table without finishing their muffin. The chances of it happening on her birthday were just absurd. Still, she was grateful.
This muffin was chocolate, with big chocolate chips, and when it had been whole it was wider than her fist. It lacked most of one half now, and the paper wrapping drooped sadly away from the base, but still, anything tastes good when hunger gnaws at your insides, birthday was just a bonus.
She looked around the park happily, it was a warm day, the buds on the trees were starting to open, and the chill from winter seemed to have finally left her bones. Her cold had gone, and hayfever hadn’t yet started. She was healthy, had a muffin, and it was her birthday. Re-arranging the bandanna on her head, just the tiniest amount of green visible from under the black material she wriggled back on the bench and began to nibble the muffin, savouring it against her tongue.
Her stomach growled as the first crumbly mouthful made its way down into the emptiness. Seventeen and hungry. She was thankful she had seemingly stopped growing, trying to feed herself was bad enough, without the ravenousness prompted by growth spurts. With a thankful sigh she leant back against the warm wood and closed her eyes. Today, she had much to be thankful for. The world would still be there tomorrow, all the issues, the hunger, the pain, but for now it was her birthday and she was happy.
‘Careful, I’m hot.’ The lid warned. Well, one would hope so, at a price like that if she had finally received her coffee and it be cold it would have been rather disappointing. Removing the lid warning and all she stirred in her sugars and began to scoop off the foam, or in this case bubbles, and let them dissolve against her tongue.
Was it training day today? Or unusually busy? Perhaps it was merely the fact that with such a well-known brand people were paying for the label on the cup, and didn’t care too much about what was on the inside, a physical manifestation of the world’s mentality. Whatever the reason, the coffee was nowhere near as lovingly crafted as those at the little café she usually stopped in if she was going on a caffeine binge. This was close, however, and guilt free if she simply wanted to zone out.
She glanced up as he joined her at the table (before she had even reached the 80s in her silent counting) and smiled. He had chosen to sit with her, rather than make a convenient exit through the door and out of her life. It would have been easy, in an effort to streamline, and lessen the amount that the staff had to clean, all orders take away and sit-in were served in take-out cups, it gave that papery taste to all the coffee that just wasn’t achievable with china or porcelain.
“Amen. And to be honest, the Holy Grail would probably taste better too.”
Less likely to have booths or couches though, and probably not easy to get to via public transport or walking. She pushed herself back against the backrest and eyed the boy more slowly now, taking in his slightly grubby and tousled appearance whilst sipping her drink silently.
“So, Iddy, what do you do with yourself when you’re not drinking coffee?”
Which guessing from the mix up in line was most of the time.
The man was… rinsing his pants. With a garden hose. On the front lawn. While he wasn’t wearing them.
Right.
He commented on the day’s suitability for laundry and she nodded slowly. It was going to be one of those hot days, better to get out for a run in the morning, or a rinse.
“Most people use a machine, but yes it is.”
She tilted her head and eyed him. He didn’t look like a crazy person, more like someone sprung doing something so absurd that explaining it would take longer than just pretending it was perfectly ordinary. He also gave off a vibe of pure discomfort and she felt almost sorry that she had disturbed him in his… situation.
He continued to spray the pants liberally as she drew closer to the driveway. As she moved the trail of clothes from what seemed to be a minor excavation became apparent. He had flung his clothes off mid-movement it would seem, how odd.
“Get the urge to wash suddenly, on the lawn?”
If he had bladder problems and had had an accident, that would have been rather rude and quite possibly hurtful. Of course that thought didn’t cross her mind until after she had said it. She rolled the lead from the earphones around her fingers as she stopped and inspected the situation, letting her body cool as she did so, with no places designed for resting standing was the best option until she got her breath back.
Posted by Verdigris on Jun 6, 2011 11:11:35 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
As he turned his head to glance around she caught a clearer view of what before she saw only a glimpse. One of his eyes was scarred, badly. Humans had scars too, and problems. Not all issues in the world were based on genes. Not to say that he had issues, of course.
He suggested that they find a table and she nodded her agreement with this question. The couch she had been eyeing had been nabbed by what seemed to be the girlfriend of one of the teens who made fun of the scarred boy in the first place, not a good place to seat themselves. She scanned the coffee shop again and spied a booth, relatively out of the way that was both empty and near to the door. Receiving her drink from the staff member she nodded towards it.
“I’ll go nab us that one while you wait for yours.”
That would give him a chance to consider his options, sometimes it was nice to chat, and sometimes flight instinct kicked in and all that was needed was a sliver of an opportunity and the party that felt vulnerable would flee. She had been the vulnerable, she saw some of the same characteristics in this boy. Maybe that was what made her speak up when she could have just let it slide, maybe not. Whatever the reason she did not want to come across all creeper-like, he was somewhat younger than her and in a big city everyone has the potential to be predator.
She swept the empty cup up off of the table and tossed it into a trashbin before settling herself comfortably into the booth and sipping slowly, the booth had a view onto the street and she idly watched the cars pass by. If he hadn’t arrived at the booth by the time she had counted to one hundred, then she would look back. For now, she was determined to give him his space.
There are two main ways to wake up; slow and fast. Slow means the body rejects the alarm’s scream, snuggling under blankets, nuzzling deeper into pillows until finally barely conscious it is dragged to a shower and shocked into life with extremes of hot or cold. Fast means that eyes spring open, and want to stay that way, the heart beats fresh oxygen around the body and there is the extreme feeling of motivation. This morning, unlike most other mornings, Verdy had awoken fast. Rather than this being a good thing, it was irking her. She had no assessments due, no work that day, Andrew was elsewhere and it would have been the perfect day to sleep in, then spend a lazy day wandering around in her pyjamas. Instead, her body clock had jerked her awake at some ungodly hour when the sun wasn’t even lighting her window. After an hour or so productively cleaning her room, down to the seriousness of vacuuming, she found herself with nothing to do. It seemed a nice day outside, so after a quick shower she donned jogging clothes and located Jack’s leash.
“C’mon boy! Let’s go for a run!”
The black and white pirate captain rolled an eye at her before re-closing it. Slow waking for him. For an instant she considered trying to convince him, but he was old, and she didn’t need him to go with her… Best to just let him sleep while it was still cool, it must be difficult to go through summer covered in fur. She made a mental note to get some clippers and trim some of his excess winter fluff, to relieve the heat and stop him shedding all over her carpet.
Once she was out and jogging, feet falling in time to the tune playing in her ears, the air as clean as could be for a summer’s morning in NYC, it was easy to loose herself in the rhythm and just let everything go. Waking up fast apparently motivated her to exercise.
~~~
After an undetermined length of time- but somewhat more than ten songs- later her face was flushed and there was that burning in the base of her lungs that demanded she ceased this foolishness and go back to being lazy, and as soon as possible too. Glancing around she slowed to a jog-walk, then to a walk-walk as she tried to spy a good place to stop and wait for her breath to return to her. No parks with convenient benches, a curb barely high enough to sit on, and driveways, always the driveways. Not just any driveways, the driveways of pretentious snots who hired workers to do their gardening for them. Workers that for no apparent reason threw their clothes off and flailed their way to hoses where they proceeded to spray themselves liberally in what seemed to be an effort to soak their undergarments. Perhaps there had been a news forecast of a sudden heatwave, and he was preparing?
She slowed to barely moving and glanced around. Except for the truck there didn’t seem to be a glut of vehicles, and as she did a slow sweep of the area, no people that seemed obvious either. Partially because she was concerned about this gardener, but mainly because she was curious borderline nosy she stopped and pulled the headphones from her ears. As far as she could tell he hadn’t noticed her yet, so she figured it would only be fair that she made herself known, instead of watching his undies-dance undetected.
“Morning.”
The call was cheery enough to have been called over a neat picket fence as each party walked to their mailboxes to pick up the paper. No awkwardness, no lack of clothing, just another day in the beautiful NYC.
She nodded as he made his point about the naming and sizing… issue that Starbucks was known to have. It really was ridiculous. Why couldn’t a coffee with chocolate be called a coffee with chocolate, a tea a tea and who even knew what some of the more crazy names meant.
“Yeah, even the counter dudes can’t spit it out half the time.”
One day, when it wasn’t too busy (or alternatively when it was extremely busy) she planned to get one of the employees to read her all the names, and if they refused, demand to speak with a manager.
“The staff, rather. Before you get hired here they have to train you in tongue twisters.”
It was probably true.
She eyed the boy, he looked calm now, but who knew what kind words could accomplish, or something like that.
“You alright now?”
The teenagers who had been making a fuss had turned their attentions to something else, and soon his coffee would be finished, so there shouldn’t be too much to frazzle him out in the current situation. Still, kindness from a stranger sometimes let a person rant with no consequences. She had nowhere else to be.
He didn’t know where she was. He didn’t know why she had left. The note had lied, the one person she could run to couldn’t help her. It felt like someone had pulled her plug from somewhere the region of her belly-button and everything just drained away. She plopped down onto the bed and cradled her head in her hands.
She was gone, and the lead she had led nowhere.
She knew as well as anyone, if not better, New York was a perfect place to loose a person. True, a green person might stick a little longer in the minds of strangers, but her friend had been gone so long… She glanced up as Saph continued, and nodded hopefully though weakly. He knew something else, he would tell her what he knew.
After he disappeared into the bathroom she leant over and scritched the pig snuffling around the edge of the bed. It seemed a long wait, but couldn’t have been more than five minutes until he was gently and slightly nervously asking for her to find clothes.
“Um, yeah, hang on a sec.”
Where would a boy keep clothes? She dare not rummage in the piles of clothes on the floor, so she flung open some draws, praying she wouldn’t find anything she didn’t want to see. Thankfully she managed to escape any further awkwardness as she procured a set of clothes; t-shirt, pants, underpants. She couldn’t see socks, so she neglected them. Holding the pile towards the connection between door and wall she turned her head and averted her eyes. Not that she would see anything she hadn’t seen, but now she was in a different mindset. More awkward and less rage.
“Here you go.”
Any information was better than none, and she would absorb as much as she could before she left him to his undisturbed rest.
She raised an eyebrow at him, it was New York, so abrupt, snobby behaviour was expected, but she suspected his reaction was due to the irritability that comes from being muttered at in the coffee line.
“Yeah, I know. It means green but I’m clearly pink. Nice to meet you, Iddy.”
For if he referred to himself as one, he must have been comfortable with the term. Besides, she was waiting for coffee, she wasn’t expected to have intelligent conversations.
“I’ve got a strict no-touching rule with people I don’t know (get zapped once and things are never the same) so forgive me for not shaking hands”
It was a bit of a risk, but she had noticed some people were beginning to warm to the idea of carriers of the X-gene. Even if he was neither mutant nor sympathiser, getting zapped by a mutant didn’t lable her as one, so she was fairly safe from detection. She swept her eyes over him again. A teen, possibly borderline adult. He did look a little different, but nothing that immediately identified him as a mutant unlike the man with gills and scales around his ears blinking at an ornamental fish tank. There was something about Iddy’s eyes, but his hair was scraped over to cover his left eye and she couldn’t tell quite what it was without pointedly staring. She thought she saw a flash of silvery skin as he semi-apologised, but she wasn’t certain.
“No problem, everyone’s crabby before they get their coffee.”
Posted by Verdigris on May 8, 2011 22:56:17 GMT -6
Beta Mutant
512
0
May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
What was she doing? Storming into the bedroom of the man who had impregnated her best friend wouldn’t take back his action, wouldn’t solve anything, and probably wouldn’t be enough of a disturbing experience to frighten him away from doing it again. Perhaps, however, he knew where Andrea was. The note she had left had mentioned him, and so she had come to confront him about it. Plopping onto the side of his bed she ran a hand through her hair and frowned at the pig who was snuffling the splatters of dog food on the floor. His question prompted a sigh, and she glanced up at the door that was shielding him from her. She wasn’t so mad now, simply confused, and worried for her friend.
“I’m looking for Andrea. She left me a note saying you knew what happened.”
Of course he knew what happened, since he was the father then it was undoubtedly clear what his role had been in getting her friend into a situation that meant she had to flee the mansion’s safety. Why Andrea couldn’t stay in the mansion puzzled her, she wouldn’t have judged, and it was sure to be alright with the higher-ups, after all these things do happen, and Andrea was an adult. Perhaps Andy had taken it upon herself to leave, thinking she would have been a bad example for the children of the mansion. Verdy sighed again, it was frustrating, but now that her anger had gone all she felt was guilt for not noticing her friend’s absence for so long. Boyfriend or no, Andrea had never seemed the type to stay long-term in someone elses’ bed. Perhaps her friend had gotten too sick of her sleep-rants, and sought shelter with Saphirus since she had nowhere else to turn. This was undoubtedly as much her fault as his, and she felt a little bad for storming in and yelling at the poor guy when he was in such a vulnerable state.
Not throwing up, but I wish I would so I’d feel better... Even looking at the keyboard for this is making me nauseous. Will be back as soon as I can type without chucking.
))