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.
While it was expected the actress of the pair might take the lead in their little game, Alice was no slouch. Her accent was all pop and circumstance and she laid on the praise of Marisol’s abilities good and thick. And yes, it was some playful embellishment, but she did feel real support there, which gave her a warm feeling in her chest.
Of course, they were fiancées, so this was something she was used to. As such, Marisol pulled Alice in and playfully nudged her with her shoulder. ”Oh, you. Far too sweet with me.”
They were led into the apartment and it was… well, not the worst. These tours were always a little anticlimactic because the apartments were often empty and unfurnished, leaving a need to imagine what could be done with the space. Truth be told, Marisol did not own much to fill the area after living in a dormitory for years.
The man explained that the fridge would come with the apartment, but that laundry had to be handled off-site. Marisol could handle that, but in the moment, in character, she pouted. ”Oh, that’s a touch unfortunate. I suppose we’ll have to change how we do laundry, Alice. Can’t very well spend the wash time curled up in nothing but a blanket at the laundromat, right?”
Well, that certainly left their guide at a loss for words. This was fun.
Marisol did not want to leave Alice feeling judged. Alice was a good person, and the actress would not imply otherwise. Alice was also not the typical elitist rich girl. That did not mean there were not aspects of life she saw differently because of her background, just as most people could say. Marisol might clarify things later, just to know the air between them was clear.
For now, they had new fun to be had. It was a silly idea, but she had already awkwardly explained to the last tour-givers that she wanted a friend around for support and she was not a girlfriend moving in with her. Hell, the last guy assumed they were sisters, which was for one, heteronormative and for two, baffling considering how little a resemblance they shared. She was Mexican, for goodness sake!
So for this meaningless tour that would not likely lead to an actual lease being signed, why not lean into the façade? Alice ran with it, and… was she being more British, somehow? Cute trick if they wanted to throw the guy off.
And he was thrown, but he handled it without fumbling. He was not too old, but he likely did not jump to “lesbians” when he saw them approach. Marisol was told by some people her vibe was not “very gay,” which she found almost offensive. Alice, for her part, put off a great many gay vibes, selling the idea.
After some initial pleasantries and a brief explanation of the building, he led them inside. Marisol got into her role, walking side-by-side, keeping close to Alice as they ascended steps.
“So, are you two going to school nearby? Or working?”
”Oh, I’ll be working. Nothing too close, but it wouldn’t be New York without a subway commute, right?” She laughed at her own lame joke along with him, before continuing, ”My darling here’s the one who will be in school. She’s studying electrical engineering.”
“Oh, really?” His relative surprise irked Marisol, because she could guess where it might come from.
And of course, she had to defend her fiancée’s honor. ”Yes, really. I know, she’s brilliant and beautiful. I’m definitely lucky.”
“O-of course!” He clearly caught the mistake he made, but fortunately for him, they were at the doorway and he could concern herself with fumbling the key into the lock. Marisol simply smirked to Alice behind his back.
It was clear Zaid’s experiences with adapteds were limited, which right away told her he was not connected to the Mansion. Auntie Gemma was a fixture there, so almost anyone who came through those massive doors had first-hand experience with Adapteds.
”It usually doesn’t mean much to my everyday life,” she admitted. ”Mutants aren’t super common, though there are way more of you here than back in Cali. Plus, I keep putting myself in situations where I’m constantly around mutants. So nevermind, it affects my everyday life literally all the time.” Seriously, for someone with her powerset, you would think she would stop getting close to every mutant she crossed paths with.
Marisol felt bad for occupying Zaid’s time, both by invoking a breakdown and now stealing one-on-one time as he made her drink. Thankfully, the place did clear out quickly, which was a burden of guilt somewhat lifted from her shoulders.
Taking the drink, she took a sip before saying anything else. Sweet caffeine. She would even take the sugar boost at this point. ”No, freakout was valid. I was rude because honestly? I’m tired as all hell. Just finally finished school, been killing myself at rehearsals, and apartment hunting sucks when I didn’t think I’d be doing it alone three months ago.”
Marisol took another sip before blinking at herself. ”Wow. That was me unloading on you. Sorry. What’s been on your plate? The burden of pink, or has something else been bugging you?” Please help me distance myself from the honest moment that just slipped out of my stupid mouth.
The struggle of making a name for oneself in a male-dominated field was no joke. Marisol respected Alice for following her goals and not letting that deter her. Maybe she was biased, but Marisol was sure her blue-haired friend could be a more badass electrical engineer than any of the guys she’d be in classes with.
As Marisol worried it might, her comments about Alice’s experiences were met with bristling. Marisol lightly touched Alice’s arm and shook her head. ”I know you do. It’s not a slight on you, I promise. It was just… an observation. We’ve had different experiences and different struggles, is all.” Marisol’s life had become comfortable thanks to her mother’s hard work, but she knew when she was still young, money was tight. Knowing where she came from did a good job humbling her.
Rather than focusing on the awkward socioeconomical divide between their lives, Marisol noticed someone waiting outside an apartment building they were approaching. She smirked, glad they were waiting outside to lead them in. ”Oh, I think you’ll catch onto this little game quick. Come on.” Marisol took Alice’s hand and led her to the man in a clean polo.
“Hello! Would you happen to be Marisol? Here to check out Apartment 212?”
”Yep!” The dancer presented a chipper, friendly disposition before gesturing to the blue-haired woman with her. ”I hope it’s okay, but I thought I’d bring my fiancée along. She’ll probably visit often, so she might as well get a feel for the place. Right, honey?” she asked, turning to meet Alice’s eyes with her own playful gaze.
Marisol shrugged. ”Sugar clichés or not, I’m not looking to be besties with my neighbors,” she admitted, popping a fry in her mouth and chewing it fast so she could continue politely. ”You know me; I don’t scream social butterfly. I find the people I like and stick with them, more or less.”
Technically, Skye was on the “less” side of things these days with the distance she managed to put between them. That thought and the guilty feeling in her chest were stifled down with a mouthful of her burger. Could not deal with uncomfortable and questionable personal decisions while you were busy. It was her modus operandi for the better part of two months now, as the circles under her eyes could attest.
It was best to focus on the now and the people she had not stubbornly pushed away. Marisol found her way to a smile thinking about Alice and university. ”I’m confident in the answer you’ll be receiving, Alice. I look forward to apartment-hunting for you when you’re officially a college girl in a week.”
The pair of teens finished up lunch and while Marisol’s body would revolt as it started processing that burger, she could not deny it was truly delicious in the moment. Getting to her feet, the actress grabbed her phone from her purse and led them toward their next destination. ”I swear this isn’t a , but you’re really not used to the struggle life, are you, Alice?” She was not going to give her friend grief, because the apartments so far had been terrible, but she also did not want her travel companion feeling uncomfortable and out of place.
And then a thought struck her. A very silly thought that might help them get through the day. ”Maybe we can make things more tolerable if we make a little game of the next two places?”
A genuine effort was made to rebuild the bridge Marisol accidentally burned. She did not want to take back calling Zaid cute; he was, and it was undeniable. He would hear that likely for the rest of his days. This was the burden of being cute. Instead, she wanted to make it clear she felt cute did not have to be a bad word for him. He could be a man who was also cute; toxic masculinity be damned.
Marisol’s kind were not widely known—not like the mutants whose powers they were able to negate. For some mutants, her presence was surprising, or even terrifying if they never knew a life without their powers. ”It doesn’t seem to affect everyone uniformly. I knew a girl once who went from being a gargoyle to a wingless human colored tan rather than gray. Though for the record, I’m glad you kept the ears, too.” Even just meeting the young man, it seemed like a signature look. ”Sorry for, er, floppifying them.” Yep. That was absolutely close enough to a real word.
Getting back on the same page as they prepared to return to the restaurant proper, Zaid warned her what her drink order might result in. Marisol winced, because she often drank black coffee for its strength and lack of nutritional downsides. She also knew not all black coffee was created equally. ”Ah, well, fair point. I think I saw a mocha latte or something on the menu? I usually avoid drinks like that because of work, but I can’t pretend it doesn’t sound amazeballs.” Where had she even picked up that term? She could hear Tío Jorge shaking his head in disappointment.
Alice was right, of course; one cheat meal would not kill her. With Alice’s power, she needed to fuel herself with a high calorie diet, and she likely felt awkward about that. Of course, it was hard for the dancer to not envy that kind of metabolism, but she had to acknowledge the kind of diet Alice needed was inconvenient when she had to eat like that.
When apartment hunting, Marisol did what she could to justify aspects of a bad apartment, because she knew she’d likely end up in one. With company, it was easier to vent a little. She might not be able to pick a place out today, but at least they were having fun. ”Yeah, at least I can go ask to borrow some sugar from the nice drug dealer next door,” she joked, before adding, ”except I’m not sure asking to borrow sugar is a thing outside of TV neighbor clichés.”
While Marisol was stuck apartment hunting, Alice did have a point that it would be her own turn soon enough. ”Well, when it’s your turn, maybe your budget will be a little more generous than my own.” She was not sure about the specifics and did not ask, but Marisol did notice that money never appeared to be a real concern for Alice. She thought the reason might relate to her family, but it was not her business to ask about her friend’s financial situation. Alice was comfortable and not in dire straits, and that was all Marisol cared about. ”How long until you need to find a place of your own, again?”
It was unfortunate that New York City was where the Broadway scene lived. She loved the city sometimes, and it was nice being around some family, but gosh darn, if New York City was not expensive. Despite her role in First Position, Marisol was still a novice actress, so her pay was still modest, particularly with the show still in rehearsals. Thankfully, Marisol’s mother raised the girl to be responsible and budget conscious.
It was just upsetting what budget consciousness meant in New York when it came to apartment hunting. The apartments were very modest, in size, location, and general upkeep. It was disappointing for Marisol, but if the look she occasionally caught on Alice’s face was any indication, the Brit was horrified.
Marisol had been a recluse for the better part of a year, but Alice found ways to keep touch, even if it just came with occasional texting or a mandated lunch break. Apartment hunting was a drag, so Marisol decided to call Alice up today.
They were stopping for a bite to refuel, and while Mariol eyed both the place and the bag of food Alice returned with, she was also letting Alice pay today, so she would suck it up. ”Well, it’s the thought that counts. Thanks for trying.” The burger was much smaller than Alice’s, and instead of bacon or cheese, she had tomatoes and grilled onions. She was going to avoid sides, but her shock that they actually had sweet potato fries led to an impulse order. She got a water to wash it down with, which made her feel better. Regardless, she would need to spend time at the gym to balance this meal out.
”Two was okay; not as grimy as one,” she admitted, ”but I’m pretty sure there was a drug deal going down in the next apartment over. Not necessarily a dealbreaker, but the walls were pretty thin, so not ideal.” if Jorge or her mother visited and caught on to that, they would pry her from the building by force.
Marisol took a bite of her (admittedly delicious) burger, reflecting on the listings saved to her phone. ”One more in this area, and one place I want to go look at in The Village.” That one was slightly out of her comfortable price range, but could anyone blame her for wanting to end the day on a higher note? ”How are you holding up? I feel like I saw you turn green in the third place.”
Marisol understood what it was like to be at wit’s end, where everything seemed to rub you the wrong way. Lately, she was living in that headspace. The last thing she wanted to do was fault him for being sensitive.
With so many experiences with mutants, Marisol needed to be conscious of the ways their particular lives could suck more than her. ”That sounds unfair, honestly. You should be able to be cute and taken seriously. My… er, my friend.” Oh, ouch. That really stung to say out loud. No need to dwell on that. ”She had a flashy physical mutation, but it wasn’t like she was a novelty. You and your cute ears are still serious and valid… er. Oh Christ, I never got your name. Marisol. Is mine. By the way.”
Yes, Marisol was all over the place, but this kind, wonderful man was willing to give her a lifeline. Coffee. Sweet, life-sustaining coffee. Unfortunately, he also put two and two together on one other key details. Wincing, she admitted, ”So, yeah… I’m an Adapted. Not sure if you’ve heard of us. Mutants seven feet or closer to me have their powers sorta… off-switched? Sorry, I should have told you, but we’ve had a lot on our plates.” She sighed, getting back to her feet, following his lead. ”I’d love to start over. Coffee will help. I promise I am a more normal, almost pleasant person when I’m not running on two hours of sleep and no caffeine.”
Marisol had an interesting relationship with mutants, because she liked most of the ones she had met, but many mutants felt very uncomfortable in her presence. Not all; Celestina and Skye both liked the reduced chance of blowing up, (which made Marisol wonder why her type boiled down to girls who might explode.) She got the impression this bunny boy was less thrilled about the loss of control in his ears.
Coming back here was probably a mistake. She could have left for another café. Still, she felt bad about making this guy upset, even if she was struggling to get enough brainpower together to fully understand how she did it.
Fortunately, he was loose-lipped with what was upsetting him. Clearly, he was having a rough morning. She felt for him, and did her best not to infantilize his issues because he had such a soft appearance. ”Admittedly, the scary girl in the other apron did encourage me to come back here, but I also don’t want me being foggy and dense to make your day worse.”
Stepping into the room, Marisol slid down the wall beside the doorway until she joined the waiter in sitting on the ground. ”It sounds like it sucks,” she admitted. ”But is it so bad? I know it’s not a stereotypical guy thing, but being cute has its perks. Heck, I think you have a very nice face.” She would elect not to point out that her dating history had been exclusively female, so it made sense she’d find a guy’s face with more feminine features to be aesthetically pleasing.
”I guess I can see why the apron would bug you if it wasn’t your choice. I can still remember some costumes I’d like to go back and burn as a sacrifice.” Firebringer came to mind, which led to an involuntary shudder.
It took several seconds for Marisol to realize what was happening. The waiter walked away without saying anything, leaving her blinking in confusion until she assumed he was going back to get her order, as incomplete as it might be.
Evidently, this was not the case, as one of the female employees pointed aggressively at her, prompting Marisol to point at herself in response. The tone suggested the exhausted dancer had successfully screwed that interaction up. Now the fate of everyone’s coffee rested on her. In any other situation, she’d question why she was being ordered around as a customer, but she could not form a logical thought like that. She could follow the bunny boy and apologize.
Getting to her feet, she took hasty steps toward the back area of the café until she found wherever the server was hiding away. Warily, Marisol peeked her head around the corner just in time to see his ears flop. Duh. That was her fault, because of course it was.
”Hey. I, um, recognize I said something stupid,” she admitted nervously, hating confrontation anywhere but on stage. ”I’m not the best at… well, talking. To people. And I’m sorta seeing double as is right now. I wouldn’t want to be a jerk to a guy I just met, promise.” The octave of his voice and his co-worker calling him dude had her like ninety-eight percent sure he was a guy, but she prayed she was not walking into misgendering him again. ”Are you… um, okay?”
Marisol was going through the motions, seemingly with everything. She was still her, so those motions were precise and in time, but she felt like a zombie who knew ballet, not a ballerina. Classes were finally over; that would make things better. There was a “spark” she was struggling to find on stage, and she told her director she’d find it again when the semester was over. Honestly though? She was barely aware of where she was right now, let alone her spark.
With her last three brain cells focused on her menu, the greeting of server took three full seconds to register. When she finally glanced up, her tired eyes widened to figure out what she was seeing. The server was a mutant with… rabbit ears? Floppy ones. Okay, that was very cute. And a cute pink apron to match, which made it very difficult to figure out one key thing.
”Um, hello ma’am. Sir? I’m sorry, um. What was the question?” The moment she asked, the words finally clicked in her head and she hastily answered before the waiter could repeat the question. ”Oh. Coffee. Please, coffee.” For all the time she spent staring at the menu, Marisol had failed to read what kind of coffee she wanted to order.
”Your floppy ears are nice, by the way,” Marisol spat out before her brain could think about why that might not be polite.
Apartment hunting was expensive and exhausting, which was the worst kind of combination. New York was notorious for expensive housing, and Marisol was feeling that now that she officially had to move out of the dorms for her upcoming semester.
With the class hours she had cut to allow her time to focus on her role in First Position, even if she was getting bonus credits for the show, she did not qualify for on-campus housing. Her mother offered to help, and while Marisol would begrudgingly accept it to get started, she did not want to rely on her mom who had already done so much to get her where she was. She needed to find a situation she could realistically afford.
Beyond money, the challenge of finding a new apartment came down to time and energy. Time had been tight throughout the season. Marisol had been juggling classwork, rehearsals, and a part-time job. Between classes at the Performing Arts High School she was still unfortunately dealing with and the most physically demanding show she had ever been a part of, her body was spent each night.
Not that she was complaining; recently, Marisol was making the intentional decision to go as hard as she was. Everything was getting her devoted attention and effort. She was not going to let any of the balls she was juggling fall to the ground again.
She was fine.
Totally fine.
She plopped into a booth at the small café, not sure how she got there. She was in Harlem; that was where the most recent potential apartment was. It was cute, but still pricey with just her. She thought about the people she could lure into a potential roommate situation. One colorful person popped in her head, silencing that line of thought.
Why were her eyes stinging now? Exhaustion, probably. Maybe that was why she walked into a café? A coffee sounded necessary right now. The circles under her eyes trying to poke through her carefully crafted makeup would agree. She buried her face in her menu, trying to get a grasp of where she was and what she would order.
Being touched was something Marisol was used to with her line of study. Dancing was a physical activity, so instructors and fellow dancers were prone to getting in Marisol’s personal space. It was still surprising when this came from strangers, particularly in New York. The city was not soft and affectionate, but this young woman was clearly not a product of the cold city.
The name was a unique one, as she might have expected. ”Rivka,” she repeated aloud, smiling. ”I like that. Well, for however long your dad’s work keeps you here, welcome to New York, Rivka.”
After getting through the turnstiles, Marisol led the way through the subway platform onto the train she knew would take them on the path to the Mansion. ”Your dad did a good job. My uncle works at Xavier’s, so I know it’s great.”
With the seats all occupied, Marisol found a pole and held onto it as the doors closed and the train jerked into motion. The sound of the train covered up their conversation, letting Marisol lean in to ask a question while being cautious of eavesdroppers. ”So if you’re at Xavier’s, am I right in guessing you’re a mutant?” She wanted to be careful asking; it was nearly a given for students at the Mansion, but she did not want to out the girl to a train full of strangers.
She was excited! She was nervous! She had butterflies! She was totally going to throw up! She was running late! And she had to get that all under control, because her date was looming.
As with many nights of her life, Marisol was burdened by rehearsal. They matched their schedules and Marisol decided it made the most sense to meet Skye at the restaurant. Besides, as much as they liked to spend time visiting each other, was it not more appropriate to prepare for their date separately? Going off of nothing but movies, the two options were meeting there or being picked up. With both being subway riders, this was the best available choice.
With her dress painstakingly picked out and her make-up carefully applied, Marisol approached the restaurant from down the sidewalk and she noticed the flashing purple lights in front of the door. Skye was busy on her phone, so Marisol got to drink in the rare sight of Skye in a dress. She was so used to Skye’s casual and comfy looks, but this was just stunning. She would still take Hoodie Skye for cuddling any day of the week, but Dress Skye… well, she also inspired some feelings of her own.
Mari’s phone buzzed in her purse and she checked it, only to grin when she got Skye’s corny joke. Slipping her phone back in her purse, Marisol walked up the sidewalk until her presence was known. ”Good thing I’m here or I’d worry they would kick us out for distracting the other customers.” Marisol slipped close enough to nullify Skye’s powers, turning off the lights and changing her hair. She knew Skye well enough to know Purple was tied to nervous and possibly excited energy. ”And for the record, me to.” It was nice to be going through this first date journey together, even if Skye had more general dating experience. Girlfriends were a new thing for both of them.
Marisol planted a light kiss on Skye’s lips. She had taken to doing that whenever she could now that it was on the table. ”I’ve been thinking about tonight all day.” She had been thinking about it all week. ”And look at you! You look gorgeous. You’re gonna show me up in there,” she teased.
