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.
After a turbulent 2019 to say the least, things finally felt like they were normalizing for Marisol. Her failed spring semester was made up for in the fall, she was no longer on the brink of losing her lead role in First Position, and she had even moved out of the dorms at the high school. Well, she had to move out of them since she was no longer a student there, but it was nice to move on to a new chapter of her life.
Not too long ago, Marisol was dreading her new apartment. The hunt was going poorly, and the notion of an empty apartment for her to come home to would evoke negative thoughts about her personal life choices. Fortunately, she was saved by Alice making the last-minute decision to join her as a roommate, making her new life less empty.
They were settling into their new shared space, working on obtaining the right furniture and decorations for the vibe they wanted. Cozy and casual, with a little artsy flair. They were still learning how to be roommates, but this was as happy as Marisol had been in months.
With one earbud in listening to an upbeat acoustic song from some ViewTube cover artist with an amazing voice, Marisol left the front door of her apartment building. She had no rehearsal today and there was a loveseat for sale she was dying to check out in person.
As her Converse-clad feet hit the sidewalk, Marisol used the railing to pivot to the right.
And then she froze. Her eyes were tricking her, right? The mohawk was new-- cool, and new. But there was no mistaking it. She could tell by the pit in her stomach. Skye was walking toward her.
The mutant might not have even noticed yet. She was still a good ten feet away. Marisol could run. It was totally still an option. Was she terrible for thinking about it? Was the other option to come up with a good excuse for months of silence? Maybe she could just--
”Hi, Skye.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could second-guess them.
Marisol never thought about asking Alice to move in with her because… well, she assumed if she was not living with her girlfriend, she should not drag a friend into a living situation. She did not think a friend should have to deal with her like that. She also worried about getting frustrated with a friend as a roommate. Maybe they would be smothering or high-maintenance?
But Alice gave her no reason to think that. She was the model of independence and Marisol was sure she would spend plenty of time doing her own thing. More importantly, it did sound nice having a friendly face to come home to rather than a stranger. Plus that friendly face wanted to cook for her? That was hard to say no to, honestly.
Marisol waited for Alice to politely shoot the idea down, but her stomach fluttered when Alice actually supported the idea. Lighting up, Marisol nodded eagerly. ”Definitely! I mean yeah. Um, yes please.” She needed to tone down the eager, even if it fell in line with their personas as an engaged couple. ”Move in with me?”
The landlady beamed at the scene she got to watch unfold. After the emotional journey she was taken on, Marisol was unsure of how she could tell her they were not engaged. Maybe they could hold off for a while. Or say the engagement broke off months down the line. That happened, right? They would figure it out. For now, Marisol was just thrilled by the new, exciting idea of living with Alice.
Marisol was never the best with social cues, because they followed no script. Being sleepy did not help this problem. She was trying to be enthusiastic and supportive, and perhaps failed to realize she was not respecting personal boundaries.
Maybe she was pressing too hard, because her new bunny friend apprehensively pulled back. The boy was shy, and talking about his crush only enhance that. She wondered if he was worrying about putting all his eggs in one basket without knowing for sure it would work. She could relate to that.
And perhaps she was making things worse in her current stat. ”Hey, it sounds like a promising start. Besides, I’m sure you were a pleasant surprise; cute bunnny guys don’t usually fall out of the sky.”
Finishing up her beverage with one last big, grateful sip, Marisol said her cup down. ”Alright, I’m clearly at loopy levels of sleepy and maybe a nap would fix that. I’ve been in your hair too long, as sweet as you are.” Marisol took out her phone and tapped her way into her contacts, opening up a new page. ”Still, you are sweet. Um, would it be forward to ask if you want to swap phone numbers? I’d love to hear how things go with your Jude. Besides, new friends, right?” Marisol was still struggling at being a good friend, but she did want more practice.
Maybe it was the sum of her past experiences apartment hunting, but this place blew away Marisol’s expectations.The hardwood floors were clean and deep brown, which went well with the red brick walls that gave the apartment a classic, cozy feel. She could imagine a modestly furnished living area, where she could still move furniture out from the center for space to practice steps. Just as important, she saw herself bringing a plate of food freshly made by Alice into the living room to enjoy on a couch.
In fact, it was surprising how naturally Alice fit in the space in her head. When Alice made the comment of cooking here everyday, it sounded logical. Not as fake fiances, but instead as the real Marisol and Alice. The dancer wanted that.
As the realist, Alice asked about the catch. Marisol had wondered if there was something secretly wrong, but did not want to tarnish the luster. To her surprise, the woman claimed nothing was wrong. It was just a nice apartment with cozy tenants.
”This place is perfect,” she mused aloud. Was it a dream apartment? Not quite, but for something so tantalizingly close to her budget, it was more than she could ask. ”The price is a little outside of what I was looking for, but… hmm. I mean, maybe I can find myself a roommate?” Not that she looked forward to the hunt for someone she could tolerate living with.
The tour guide smiled, tilting her head in confusion. “Well, why doesn’t your fiancée move in with you? Or wait, are you two not quite there yet? Sorry if I assumed.”
Oh right. This woman was being unbelievably nice to them. Maybe it was about time they came clean in their relationship status. After all, since Alice was not engaged to Marisol, the reason for her to move in was…
Actually, what was the reason for Alice not to move in again? She was planning on finding a place of her own in a few months, but… why? Wordlessly, Marisol looked to Alice, wondering how she might respond because honestly? It sounded like the best idea she had heard all day.
Marisol never understood the appeal of flirting before Skye. She knew some people found it a fun activity, but it always struck her as forward and assumptive. Then she found someone she liked and suddenly, the flirting was playful. With a better understanding of it, flirting with Alice was easy. Alice helped make it easy.
Walking through the neighborhood, there was something about The Village that felt right. There was a history of acceptance and creativity. Marisol loved that. She also realized it could make the neighborhood more expensive, but she pushed aside that thought for now.
Now that they were a new version of engaged Allice and Marisol, they were more realistic. A couple dating for a while; years, maybe? Marisol liked that. She was not over-the-top with Alice, but she did keep close to appreciate the proximity to someone she loved.
Leading the couple forward, the guide smiled. “Well, that’s fantastic! No place better to deepen that relationship than The Village. Congratulations on taking the plunge.”
Marisol smiled as numbers ticked away on the elevator. ”Thanks. Honestly, I don’t know how I held out as long as I did. It’s just so easy to fall head over heels for a friend you care about so much, right?”
“I know that all too well,” she agreed warmly. After running through the basics of the apartment and the lease, she turned the key of an apartment and added a stipulation. “So I know you initially mentioned looking for the one-bedroom, but someone signed a lease on the last one we had. The two bedroom is not much more, so it’s honestly a steal. I hope you’re still interested in checking it out?”
Marisol winced; this place was already at the upper limit of her price limit. A two-bedroom would be nice, but impractical. It was unfortunate, but it was not like she seriously expected to get the place anyway. ”Yeah, we can still check it out.”
“Aces. Well then, follow me.”
The door to the apartment opened and it. Was. Perfect. It was not the largest apartment, but the living room was at least comparable with the last place in size. There was no furniture, but there were gorgeous hardwood floors, large windows set in gorgeous brick walls and—
”Alice, honey!” Genuinely excited, she ran over to the kitchen. It was not large, but it was well designed and even had a little island in the center. ”Now this is a kitchen I can picture you cooking in.”
To some degree, it felt wrong for Marisol to feel broken-up about her and Skye not being together, apartment hunting and acting lovey-dovey all the while. Marisol ended things, so what right did she have to get mopey now? It was like having her cake and eating it to. Or… sending her cake away then getting sad about her lack of cake?
Before she could get lost in her feelings or janky metaphors, Alice pulled her out of it. Yes, it may have stung to be pretending to do all the things she almost did with Skye, but Alice made it easier. They were not girlfriends or anything, of course, but spending this time with her was nice. She had a way of making the hurt less noticeable.
And gosh, was the subway just warm today?
”I think a movie sounds like a good idea,” she agreed, then giggled at her following thought. ”Careful though, because apparently fiancée Marisol is surprisingly handsy.”
They made it down to The Village after one line change and some snug commuting. Marisol was glad she made an effort to prepare for the day, with the subtle scent of peach and vanilla still lingering from her morning application of perfume. She would have hated forcing Alice to stick so close if she was going to feel gross.
They made it to the next apartment and a young woman a few years their senior was waiting. “Hey there! I’m guessing one of you is the Marisol I’m waiting for?”
”Yep!” Marisol chimed cheerfully. ”Thanks for taking the time to show me the place. I hope you don’t mind that I brought my girlfriend along to keep me company.” She turned back, smiling warmly at Alice before the thought ‘occurred to her’ and she corrected herself. ”Fiancée. Sorry, it’s still new and exciting.”
“I bet! Congratulations!” The woman’s reply was genuine and supportive. Marisol liked this one. “You girls ready to head up?”
Coming out to people was a challenge on multiple levels. Liking girls was getting more commonplace, but people often confused demisexuality with “being normal, because obviously people like people they were friends with first.” Marisol was still new to all the terminology in the grand scheme of things, but she got cranky at that dismissive, surface-level analysis from people who had no reason not to just shut up.
Zaid, thankfully, was a peach of a person. He passed no judgment, and gave her credit for her career path. Marisol kept the specifics of what she was up to quiet, because she was still worried her frazzled state would cost her that off-Broadway role. For now, her schooling was enough. ”Hey, I am jealous of anyone with great culinary skills. I’m not going to say I’m awful, but I know how to make the same five basic things. I’ll miss having a dining hall.” Come to think of it, that did sound awful! Was she going to live solely off of grilled chicken breasts and salads going forward? Not that it would be a huge deviation, to be fair.
The honesty Marisol offered was returned in kind, and Marisol’s heart fluttered. She had lesbian friends, of course, and knew a few gay guys from school because, you know, performing arts. Still, it was always a moment of solidarity to meet someone who got it. Jude, though. Odd coincidence… it would be a nice name if her one notable encounter with it was Celeste’s jerk boyfriend.
Still, no reason to take those biases here, because Zaid was already nervous. ”Aww, the first crush is terrifying,” she empathized. ”But also kinda… exciting? Reaffirming? And hey, yours seems like he might even be interested, which is already better than I was doing!”
The struggle to find potentially queer members of the dating community was so relatable. ”Rolling the dice, though; what a mood. I’ve been told I don’t ‘look gay,’ which has made me debate just buying like, rainbow shoelaces or something. We need some tell or a handshake. Would a handshake make it too cheesy? I’d dye my hair if my director wouldn’t flip.” brightly colored hair clearly worked for Skye and Alice.
But Zaid’s issue was foreign to her. ”But I don’t know gay boy rules. So tell me about this guy! Any flirting yet? Is he tall? Handsome?” Those were the right things for people who liked men, she was pretty sure.
Marisol would not harp on Alice’s past experiences with wealth and luxury, even if she was curious. The world was foreign to her, and it did not add up that Alice of all people would be a product of that environment. Evidently, upbringing did not dictate who you became; Marisol supposed her own humble beginnings were evidence of that, too.
The pair got onto the subway and, because it was New York, it filled up quick. The fit was tight, so Marisol clung to a pole and pulled Alice in by the waist so they could consolidate space. Being a dancer made her comfortable with others in her personal space as long as she trusted them and they were there for a reason. ”We gotta squeeze in. I guess we’re just getting an early start as fiancées again,” she joked.
The train kicked into movement with a jerk and Alice talked about the Mansion. Evidently, she liked it more than her old home, and Marisol guessed it was not ust about the Danger Room.
Though Alice clearly loved the Danger Room and who could blame her. ”Yeah, a decent kitchen is nice, though this one doesn’t have a holodeck, sadly. My Uncle never talked much about the Danger Room, actually.” Maybe the years made the experience less notable. Performing on stage became routine after a while, after all. ”But whenever Skye talked about it, she clearly… um…”
Marisol just spoke without thinking, and when she caught herself, her features fell a little. Talking about Skye had that effect these days. ”Sorry,” she muttered. ”It does sound cool, though.”
Marisol pushed away an important person in her life, and she had to come to terms with that. Apartment hunting without Skye had hurt, reminding her of the empty space she chose to create in her life. This was the first trip she was enjoying, even with subpar apartments and a misunderstanding. It felt important not to do that again, even by accident.
”I’m being reasonable because we all have our sore spots, right? I just want to know I’m not making you upset.” She let the hug linger until it felt done, which was notably longer than most hugs. For someone so rail-thin, Alice offered a very nice hug.
After that messy appointment, Marisol would not have blamed Alice for calling it a day. That meant she was almost giddy when Alice was still on board to visit the village. ”Perfect! We can work on the characters. Maybe we were both a little much this time,” she joked. Returning Marisol to that character was fun, but it was a reminder that she had grown into a more affectionate person with Skye. She had to not let that go too overboard playing with Alice.
Now that things were settling down, Marisol led the way toward the nearest subway station. There was no way they were walking from Harlem to the Village. ”So I guess you were familiar with the estate life? There’s nothing wrong with that; it’s kinda cool, honestly. I can’t even imagine. Well, I guess visiting Tío Jorge, the Mansion might be something like that?” She had no clue how the Mansion and its grounds might compare to Alice’s history.
She chuckled at herself. ”Meanwhile I’m excited to check out this next apartment because it’s just slightly out of my price range. Honestly, I don’t know why I saved the listing; I think I just liked the kitchen and needed to tempt myself.” There was a way she could afford it, but she would have to fall for the face before committing to Craigslist hunting for a roommate.
Marisol was used to emotions that could sometimes get volatile. Skye was a woman who ran on emotions, wearing them on her hair. While this was a helpful cheat sheet, it was a better study tool. Marisol had a better recognition of people who might be dealing with an emotional outburst. It kept her patient. That wasn’t why they broke up, after all.
Okay, not the thing to think about. Sip your latte, Marisol.
”Thanks, but I actually just finished up high school too,” she admitted. ”Well, performing arts high school, which I guess counts. Had to finish up an extra semester to graduate.” Which sucked, because it meant she was graduating virtually alone, with no pomp or circumstance. Then again, a graduation ceremony would be just another task to deal with, so maybe this was best.
It was comforting to know Zaid understood the apartment struggle, but Marisol was ready to focus on the rabbit for a bit. He had his own issues, not all extending from his wardrobe. Marisol grinned warmly, excited for this stranger. The grin faltered as he expressed his own insecurities and the things he was struggling with. ”I know that feeling. Two years ago, I finally had my first crush. I thought I was broken til then, and it always bothered me; I’d never even heard of demisexuality at that point.” It somehow felt easy coming out conversationally with Zaid. She was not panicking that he might judge her or tell her demisexuality wasn’t a thing.
”I crushed on my friend, but got totally in my head about things. She started dating a guy, and it sucked,” and a petty part of Marisol was still grumpy at the guy called Jude, ”But it happened again and I focused on her instead of my self-conscious jitters and it worked.”
And she was doing tired rambling, so she should find her point again. ”You seem nice, and I am pretty sure people who find guys cute would totally think you’re great. So if you like this person, don’t focus on bullies or the negative voice in your head. As someone once told me, they’ll go home to be sad, alone, and insecure. And you’ll go home with your cute date.” She added a playful wink at the end, because it felt like it fit.
Marisol needed to get better at not putting her foot in her mouth. Typically, she at least expected to be confident and in control when she acted, but even that failed her this time. She missed having a script. It was just her luck she might be a divining rod, hitting all the most vulnerable points on her friend by accident.
Not sure how to keep herself from doing so, Marisol wrapped her arms tightly around her sobbing friend. ”Well, anyone who’d choose to ignore you is dumb. First of all, you have blue hair, which is really hard not to acknowledge,” she said lightly, feeling the sting in her own eyes thanks to her friend’s pain. ”And more importantly, you’re smart and funny and wonderful. So there, I’ll acknowledge you more to make up for it.”
Creating enough distance so she could see Alice’s face while keeping a hold of her friend, Marisol smiled. She spared one hand so she could brush the dampness from Alice’s cheeks with her thumb. ”I don't consider making my best friend miserable to be winning. Maybe we go to the next place and I don’t give you a panic attack? I think we could do with ending things on a good note. Just two girls—not a broadway star and a lavishly rich girl this time. Two normal girls in New York. Still engaged though; I was kinda having fun with that,” she added, winking to hopefully offer up some levity in this trying time.
Finding Alice was just step one of the challenge, because the moment she did, Alice went off on her. The tone was vicious and aggressive. If the tour guy could hear them, he might have assumed they were having a premarital spat.
Apparently everything Marisol said hit closer to home than she intended. The way Alice spoke to her hurt, but she had to view this from the eyes of a woman who thought her friend was teasing and toying with her.
Instead of interrupting, Marisol let Alice let everything out, including tears that twisted Marisol’s insides. Finally, she quietly answered, ”Alice… I didn’t know. I just thought, with the way you were playing up the accent, I’d play up your poshness. I meant it as a joke—I didn’t realize I was hitting you where it hurt because you never told me about any of that.”
If anything, Marisol felt bad for playing Alice’s high-society life as a joke, not realizing she was actually hitting the mark. She placed a hand on Alice’s shoulder. ”I didn’t realize the kind of world you came from because it’s not you to me, Alice. Sure, I tease you a little, but I never pegged you as an old money rich girl and only brought it up in there because it sounded so not like you.. You’re just Alice.”
Marisol noticed a shift in the air. It was a silly joke about cliché rich girls, but the mood shifted. Almost immediately, Alice excused herself. Marisol tried to meet her eyes to make sure everything was okay, but Alice did not look at her.
The guy tried to keep talking about the apartment that seemed much less interesting without Alice around. It could not be helped; Marisol had a nagging feeling in her gut. Was this Zaid all over again? Did she misstep, completely oblivious to what she did?
It was bugging her too much; she had to excuse herself to go check on Alice. When he asked if she was still interested in the place, and how he had another showing later, she apologized and said it might not be a right fit. It could have been, if necessary, but right now she had a higher priority on her mind, so losing out on one mediocre apartment was a necessary sacrifice.
Marisol left and looked around until he found Alice against a wall. She looked… off. With concern in her eyes, she asked, ”Are you okay, Alice? Did I do something wrong?”
Over the years, Marisol had gotten alarmingly good at behaving out of character for the sake of an act. She could be timid and awkward in real life, but her characters could be confident, forward, and flat-out sexy. She made it work as Heather Chandler, and the Marisol who was Alice’s fiancée had some spice to her without being sultry. She was just a woman mad about her lover, which was a surprisingly easy role to play.
Almost too easy.
Warmth flushed Marisol’s cheeks when Alice pushed the suggestiveness. It was playful, but the heat surprised her. Her stomach tightened. How long had it been since that kind of feeling? Since… well, Skye. That was why this was easy. Marisol always expected to apartment hunt with someone, and she expected to flirt her way through the whole thing. She was playing the Marisol who still had a girlfriend.
Marisol buried that realization in her head. Stay in character where this was safe and Alice was… frankly, overacting. Whatever, it was just a game, right? She placed a hand on Alice’s back and chuckled. ”Rustic would look good on you! Could you imagine your daddy dearest seeing you living like us common folk,” she teased, thinking nothing of it. No harm in hamming it up for an audience of one confused guy, right?
Marisol made a point to watch Alice when she made her suggestive cuddling comment. She could have sworn she spotted some color rising to those cheeks; the challenge of being so fair-skinned. Marisol beamed proudly.
Thankfully, her “fiancée” managed not to break character, even if the comment caught her off guard. She ran with it, clinging to the value of the cuddle sessions she would not give up easily. ”We’ll make it work,” she purred, smirking as she snaked her hands around Alice’s waist, whispering, ”Like I could keep my hands off you for more than a few minutes.”
Yep, she was now successfully in character, and what a character it was.
Of course, Alice steered them out of trouble and Marisol came to her senses, releasing her lover and straightening out her top. ”Of course. Behaving.” Though Alice’s little comment… it was too good to resist. ”It’s fine, I’d say. Not overly spacious, but it doesn’t matter if we dance close enough. But. Behaving,” she reminded herself, flashing a polite smile to the man, who seemed unsure of how to reply to this beyond reiterating the square footage.
Moving toward the kitchen, it was not terrible, but it was small. Smaller than she hoped from the pictures. ”Oh, I’m just not sure, love. I know you love to cook, but this kitchen is rather small. It must feel paltry compared to the ones at the estate.” It was, of course, a light-hearted joke. Alice was turning up the poshness of her accent, and wasn’t that a cliché? Posh British people and their lavish estates?
