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.
If she had a way to NOT get in trouble? There wasn't even a hesitation on Spencer's part.
"F--- yes. But only if I can watch. Does it involve guys in dark suits? Oh! Like brain microwaves or something? I am super into it, whatever it takes." Spencer chugged her coffee and decided that was enough of that before tossing it at the nearest trash receptacle.
Whether she made it in or not didn't matter. What mattered was that she'd given it effort on a day when effort was hard.
Also if it was brain microwaves, Spencer was going to have to ask if foil hats helped or hurt.
Her reputation? Spencer laughed as he first tested his ankle and they began to walk. Audiences didn't take well to hurt animals? PSH. "You left me! I mean, I dropped you, so tit for tat and all that, but YOU LEFT ME." Maybe he owed he three. Yeah, three was good.
"Jericho." She mused. "So you are a man under all the wool." And that was an interesting list. She opened her mouth and he already had an answer for her. No. No sea cows. Spencer pouted. Sea cows were adorable. People were still giving her the most strange looks considering that she was talking to a sheep.
"I'm just Spencer. No fancy antelope or whatever." They did eventually make it back to where they'd started this wandering excapade. She'd told him that she'd help, which was a bummer, but she'd already agreed so she figured she could hold her nose and go dumpster diving or whatever.
Thankfully it was just next to the dumpster. Not in it.
"Gross. You make a habit of hanging out near dumpsters?" She hefted the bag, it wasn't too bad. Felt like mostly shoes and clothes. "I wanna see you do the thing. You know. The mutant thing. I deserve at least that much, right? Since you owe me three?" She smiled hopefully.
Spencer choked on her latte. "That's a mental image and a half."
And then, the damnedest thing happened. The woman offered to take Spencer into a restricted area. She snorted coffee this time, choking again on what she should have really stopped trying to drink while having a conversation.
"Oh gross." She cleared her throat and mopped her face on her sleeve. Her dignity was long gone. She was in the presence of someone who could explode her.
"This is going to sound really girl scout of me, but what's gonna stop us from getting in trouble? It's daylight. Museum's open. If I start climbing over ropes into restricted areas, they're going to call the insane asylum white coat people with the- the-" she floundered for the word for straight jacket before giving up. "You know, the hug yourself crazy person coat." Words were hard. Extra hard today.
"Yeah. My day was hyper focused on caffeine, but luckily you've just helped me snort it directly to my brain. If you're offering adventure, who the hell am I to say no?" Also, if the woman left her high and dry to take the fall for any potential misdeeds... well... Spencer was just a helpless little human under duress from a powerful explody lady. That was an adventure of sorts, too.
She wiped her hand to be sure it was coffee and snot free before offering it. "My name's Spencer."
Maybe Spence was getting a free look into the lives of dangerous mutants. She'd call the office later.
Were people intimidated by Spencer? The thought was laughable. "Ahhh-heh. Yeah more like, no one seems to take me seriously. I’m more likely to get asked to help someone find the closest restroom or fetch the coffee.” Which she had done without complaint here, but she was hosting an interviewee. It was different when they were in the bullpen and pitching article ideas. Author interviews were not exactly the hard-hitting investigative type. But this one, at least, was proving to be fun.
And Serena would be honored to return. Another thing Spencer didn't hear all too often. Her face softened as she teased the woman. There were absolutely several other reasons why Spencer wasn't taken seriously. Like her antics with the pen.
And Serena's answer was just perfect. So satisfying. Spencer reached for her phone and stopped the recording before laughing and lowering her eyes demurely when she felt anything but.
”I think that’s enough for the article, but you seem a little flushed. Can I help you get some fresh air? A tour of the building, maybe? Or, I dunno. Lunch?” She was casual, so casual, as she pocketed her phone and stood with a hopeful smile. The poor blonde seemed totally brain steamed. Spencer knew a few tricks to let off the pressure… She doubted she could get there with such a good girl, but no one would blame a girl for trying, right?
People might not like getting involved, but Spencer was no people. She was the kind of person to notice the will'o'wisps of the world, not that she'd ever tried to stop one. But she'd totally stayed to talk it out. The girl seemed lonely in her own way. Like she was all defensive spikes around a marshmallow core... only that squishy filling also hid spikes. Tilting all the pictures in the museum? True evil, right there.
"I like not being dead. That's why I don't get involved. What, you got like 15 different ways to make a dude dead, right?" Seemed like every mutant did.
But then she had the question turned right back around at Spencer. If she could walk through walls, where would she go?
"Area 51." The meme answer was the most ready, but not the most realistic. Spencer took a sip while she thought more seriously. "I'm guessing surveillance makes banks more trouble than fun. Maybe skipping the lines at the water park? Restricted areas are everywhere. I'd probably try 'em all. Libraries and museums could be fun, too. I've always wanted to climb a dinosaur or camp out in a lunar lander, you know? I hear all the good stuff is in the basement of the MET. You know. Stuff like that."
She thought she had it, she almost had it. But hooves were slippery and a tilted sheep was no help to her balance, let alone its' own balance. The sheep hit the stage and Spencer fell on top in a heap. She scrambled up and off, stumbling worried and laughing even as he was already reassuring her.
"I'm okay, sheepy." The host was there with his hand on her elbow and she regretted trying the dip if only because he was fussing over her in front of everyone. She reassured him and nearly stumbled again as she followed the traitor sheep that had abandoned her on stage.
Spencer’s world was starting to spin, but she waved off the backstage medic who didn’t seem all that concerned anyway. It hadn’t been a big spill, but the optics were bad if they didn’t at least offer to look the human over.
There wasn’t really anything wrong with her besides the fact that she was talking to a sheep and the sheep was talking back. She absolutely wasn’t having a cancerous relapse or anything. Spencer disbelieved and threw herself more fully into the here and now as they went back to the waiting room for her things.
"We’re not gonna win so there really isn’t a point in waiting around.” Spencer tried to size up which ankle was tweaked, but again it wasn’t like she was going to be able to do much about it. "I’ll walk with you, boo. Just don’t expect me to carry you.” And, yeah. He could owe her two. Two was better than one.
Spencer took dutiful notes, slipping a little tid bit about trauma for the genesis of Serena's mutation. Blood was primal and integral to life. No doubt, she could make up something really sensational around that, should she need to massage the interest-factor of the story. She checked her phone as Serena thanked her for taking it easy. There'd be plenty of time to piss her off later. In the beginning, honey was best. Keep them happy, keep them happy, and when you can't keep them happy any more, destroy them.
"You've been more than helpful and downright cooperative which is more than I can say for others I've interviewed." Spencer beamed at Serena, in truth, everything she'd been given was a decent fluff piece. She'd hoped for more, but more came when you dug deep. Today a scratch on the surface. Besides. Surface was all the big bosses wanted. It was just Spencer who always wanted more... "I'd be honored if we could do it again, some time."
They should probably wrap this up...
"Do you have any parting words for your fans?" Spencer dragged her pen across her bottom lip and out of the way so she could finish her question. "Maybe a tease-?" The pen drooped along the side of her neck and dipped lower. "-for next time?" And lower. "A promise for more, maybe?" The hope in her eyes was for Serena's answer whatever it may be.
Rules were for chumps? The whole thing was a 'just for the hell of it'? Spencer goggled at the woman and thought for a brief shining moment that she'd found a sort-of badass pasty reflection of herself... except with power instead of a hangover. What was life, if not one big juicy game of DIY monopoly?
"All the rules are made up anyway. It's power that matters. People with power make the rules. Like in there." Spencer motioned back to the coffee shop with her ill-gotten coffee. Obviously, n one was going to produce a net and test Spencer's burning need to know if anything could catch a will-o-wisp. But she sure wished they would."You can do whatever you want 'cause obviously no one can stop you."
"I still bow--" A yawn caught Spencer by surprise. Not that this conversation was boring. This lady was quite interesting in a "she could hurt me" kind of way. It was just that she could s gladly snuggle right back up into bed and sleep for ten years. "-- augh. Sorry. I still bow to some rules. Usually I pay. That means usually I earn money. But you... what's a girl who isn't bound by rules do all day, exactly?"
Ahhhh and there was a nerve. Considering that Spencer wanted to continue this interview, she left that nerve alone. Exposed, but alone. She was even kind enough to not take a note about it, though that may have had something to do with the fact that she'd captured Serena's eyes and did not want to let them go. If eyes could talk, Spencer's were whispering things that'd make a sailor blush.
"That's fair." Her refusal was polite, but explicit. No talking about Serena's powers when they started, or now. It was only fair because of the mutation manifestation stories, some were graphic. And this was still, technically, a book tour interview.
"What would you say is your interesting writing quirk? Every writer has one, right? Kafka famously would write through the night? Truman Capote would never start or end his writing on a Friday, I hear."
Spencer did, eventually, reclaim her hand from the top of Serena's. She had to write down whatever the answer was.
Spencer found herself snorting more and more. A better option? She'd sort of opened that door when she brought up "bangability," but Spencer was a tad surprised that the sheep... banged people?
Oh. Right. Mutant. She somehow kept forgetting that part when it was such a floofy lil cotton ball in front of her. But apparently, he had toes. If it was a he. Was Spencer assuming his gender because of the voice? She was still almost sure sheep were girls.
It was this conundrum that kept Spencer's brain occupied as they were escorted into the wings outside f the stage. She allllmost even forgot she was about to make an absolute fool of herself. Was she supposed to get her network's permission before going on TV? Well it was too late now! The stage manager queued them and, for one brief moment Spencer worried in an insecure way that she might not be tall enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, or any other number of enoughs. She hadn't even been able to check her make up. Maybe she should have rather than making all those jokes...
"Here goes everything." She whispered to her sheep as they walked out together.
There was an announcement. A question about where she got such a sheep, which she deferred with a shy smile and some eyelashes. Then. Go time.
There was a crowd. Spencer had dealt with crowds at a smaller scale. Cameras in a smaller studio. It was... much. Her head tried to swim at the sudden undeniable presence of so much going on and so many people.
But the sheep was on his hind legs and he'd said he might be shaky. It wouldn't do to leave a sheep hanging. And then seeing those shaky hooves give effort to keep time... it was funny. The whole day was weird and funny and Spencer was grinning like a fool. She even attempted a spin for her sheepy pal to make the swing dance more swing-y. A little kick flare from her. The song wasn't long. They clearly didn't expect this to go on for long.
"I'mma dip you." She whispered the warning almost in time with starting the motions. Sheep... didn't really bed that way? But she would give it the old college try for a finale, so long as he didn't freak out.
Posted by Spencer on Feb 18, 2020 15:54:35 GMT -6
Zaid likes this
Zeta Mutant
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open, or forget it
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Mar 10, 2021 16:32:18 GMT -6
Ghost
Apparently that guy was afraid of sheep now. Somehow that realization brough Spencer back from the depths of despair that threatened to swallow her whole. It wasn't her versus sheep. It was Sheep and Spencer vs the world. "I hope he develops a phobia." She snorted into her hand, a less than ladylike way to handle things, but this was a sheep she was talking to. Judge not lest you get sheared or something. She was pretty sure that was patently biblical.
Somehow Spencer was pretty sure her "one" and his "one" were of different calibers. But if was going all Lannister about it, she'd get her due. Eventually. One way or another.
"Bangability factor?" Spencer nodded off to the side, not so subtly, at a co-ed type who walked in wearing tap shoes. They may as well have fun, right?
The waiting room was filling up with other talentos, the closer to go time they got. Spencer enjoyed having a secret partner to ridicule or salivate over others with.
"You think that monkey talks?" She was mostly on the floor, one arm around the sheep and having a grand old time whispering between the two of them despite the looks it got her. Until, of course, the room started thinning out again.
Eventually, it was their turn. The stage manager came for her and Spencer, feeling a bit lightheaded and giggly about the silliness of everything, stuffed down her reservations.
"C'mon, sheepy. Let's go dance." Was this gonna be a, she takes the front legs situation? Or a just watch him do his thing? It was far too late to ask now!
Eyebrows extended into telescopic mode as Serena enumerated ColdSteel's problems. Ohhhhh. The issue wasn't being spurned. It was being hit on. Juicy, juicy sekuhara. She had to invent a whole new decoration to add to ColdSteel's name. A skirt. For skirt chaser. A self-congratulatory internal high five was in order as well since the rumors of skirt mandation revolved around him.
Also, outed on Becca's stream? As a teammate, surely, but Spencer made a note to go look for it. Watching through a super vigilante's youtube channel had allll kinds of potential.
"Sanguine evokes a really positive feeling. I'd say that matches your personality quite nicely." There were many pitfalls she could have fallen into with so primal a power. Not to mention being a girl and all that came along with THAT. Spencer didn't envy these heroes one bit.
Consistently seen doing good. That went in the notes. As well as the best mutant kind has to offer. She was banging someone on that team. No ifs, ands, but maybe a few butts. Spencer had to refrain from adding sassy faces that might give her skepticism away. It wasn't exactly professional to draw a raised eyebrow face. It was hard enough to stay patently positive and neutral as it was.
It was just... if people were thinking that after seeing the x-men on TV, then that must have been someone's only exposure to mutants.
"Fear's a weird thing." As was embarrassment. "The less exposure one has to something, the more she might build it up in her head. In that way, I guess I agree. More exposure, especially of the positive kind, is a smart way to normalize mutations." Unfortunately, Spencer had scratched beyond the shiny veneer of the face of the x-men. There was no going back to believing in what was shown on television anymore. Not for her.
"That sounds exhausting, being scared of what you are." The table hit her mid-torso, but it felt like a moment that deserved some confirmation that Spencer, at least, was not afraid of her. She leaned forward and put her hand on top of Serena's, enjoying the solid attention of a beautiful, if naive and self-conscious, girl. There was a lot of promise in eyes like Spencer's.
"You said you're more open now...?" She let that one dangle to be interpreted as Serena might before continuing. There was something so delicious about making people squirm. "Could you share something about your awakening? Your," blast she had to break eye contact to check, "manifestation, as you called it. Of your powers."
Either the unabashed eye contact worked and Spencer was the alpha dog or this person was so secure in her capricious attitude that she wasn’t at all threatened by a hungover socialite, even if Spencer did have almost a whole inch of extra height.
When the woman turned into a… floating light? Spencer had her answer. Mutant. A mutation always threw a kink in the power dynamics. Also, seriously!? Was anyone else seeing this? Spencer looked around (and her neck made her regret that action) yet somehow, very few people were taking note of the oddity. Was New York really this used to seeing mutants do their thing? Spencer constantly felt like she was taking crazy pills.
And she was offered a replacement coffee. A stolen one.
”I’m not crying. I’m just dying on the inside and it’s leaking to the outside.” Her eyebrows hurt from frowning so Spencer tried to relax her face and avoid those potential old lady lines. UGH! She wasn’t old, everyone else was just really, really full of volume right now. And mutations, apparently.
Spence wasn’t about to hang out with stolen goods in hand, especially since she fully planned on drinking it. This, plus the girl’s earlier drink were absolutely not the quality of coffee she had ordered. But it was at least in the right ballpark of quantity. She stepped over the puddle of her lamentable horchatte and left that for the downtrodden minimum wagers to deal with. If the proletariat could just hang on and not rise up today, Spencer would really appreciate it.
She heaved a sigh once she was back out on the street and took a sip of her ill-gotten gains.
Full fat. Full sugar. Fully going straight to her hips.
”So you just don’t care about coffee, or rules, or being a person with arms and legs and stuff?” Spencer cringed at the volume of her own voice, and the sunlight, and the smell of garbage in the street. Frankly, being alive was a super chore today. If little miss globe of light wanted to walk away, Spencer was not going to stop her.
They were having a good time touching in the very PC, but indicative of future promises kind of way. Mr. Drives Fast was very receptive. Until he wasn't. For some reason, his cheeks blanched. And he explained in a stammer.
>"That...that sheep...it just talked...it talked!"
"That- that's me! It's a ventriloquy thing. Did you see my lips move? It's super convincing isn't it?" She bubbled up her explanation, but he was already backing away, turning, and running.
"Macho man my @ss." The door swung shut behind him and Spencer deflated. Now she was on the hook for a swing dancing sheep on television somehow? How did she get herself into these things? "Who's afraid of a sheep?" Spencer huffed and put her hand back into place on the ruff of her sheep's neck.
He spoke to her, then. Definitely not ventriloquy. Definitely not what she would have thought. She groaned as the realization of what was going on washed over her and let her forehead fall against the poofy, floofy wool. He had to be a mutant. She'd just kidnapped a mutant... with lettuce.
The sheep winked at her. IT WINKED.
"Listen here you little sh*t, I know you're not a sheep so you can drop the act." She hooked her fingers under his sheepy chin ensuring eye contact was maintained between them. "I may have gotten us into this, but you are gonna get us out of it. By dancing on national television. As a sheep. No funny business." And then, as an afterthought. "And! You owe me one." Mr. Furiously Fast had been promising things no sheep could live up to.
ColdSteel was hard to get along with? That earned an eyebrow and a bad joke. "Aww, did he give you the cold shoulder?" ColdSteel was in fact, one of the most decorated names on the list. Just about as decorated as Serena was.
"You know, I don't have a code name noted down for you. I know you just said you're new to the team, but have you chosen one yet?" Spencer tried to be not so obvious as she drew lines between Serena and Mirror and Serena and Becca with a scribbled OT3?
And thus far, Serena had neatly dodged explaining what her own views were. It was time to get direct because the courteous way just wasn't cutting it any more.
"What, in your opinion, makes the X-men so important? What do they stand for, in your eyes?" Symbolism? Seemed to Spence, that there was a hell of a lot of real world application happening with those that were supposed to be symbolic.
