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.
Seven clung onto every word, feeling their muscles tighten. Someone hurt Mae and....they didn't like that one bit. And someone was going to pay for that. They were silent, and removed their hand from Mae's cheek as she finished speaking. There was no comment, no smart-ass quip. No "That's what they usually do, Maeflower." Nothing, just silence through narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw.
Mae went to the couch, and Seven started toward the door but as they opened it, they looked back over at Mae, then found themselves walking over to the couch and kneeling down. "I'll be back soon. Rest well, my Maeple Leaf..." they murmured, leaning down and kissing her forehead very briefly before turning and hurrying out of the door. McLarens wasn't hard to find, in fact they'd been here a few times before. They managed to get information, and actually came across the guy after getting thrown out of a nearby bar.
"You. You like preying on innocent women, do ya?" "What? I didn't prey on anyone, she hit me so I taught her a lesson." "I got a lesson for ya..." Brass knuckles were in their left hand, switchblade in their right.
The fight went quickly, but it probably would have had a similar ending if he was sober. They were off of their game, for some reason, and they didn't kill the guy. But he was going to regret and remember everything the next day. Seven had beaten that into him.
Over an hour later, Seven came back in without even so much as a scratch. They walked over to Mae, not even noticing their headphones were still on the floor.
If her time cuddling with Mae was the best sleep they'd ever gotten, then this was by far the worst. But it was okay because this was what they deserved. They'd used Mae, and for some reason that made them feel things. Guilt, maybe? Who knew. They faded in and out of consciousness for awhile until Seven heard the door open, and they rolled over in time to see feet walk into the room, and they jumped up and walked over to their roommate.
"Mae, I'm sorry," they stammered, uttering words they probably never uttered words before, and then they froze. The red eyes, the busted lip….something bristled inside of Seven and they took off their headphones and let them fall to the floor.
"Mae! What happened? Who did this? Where are they?"
Their eyes narrowed before they turned around, stormed off to their room and grabbed their backpack, rooting through and pulling out a switchblade and a pair of brass knuckles. They put those in their pocket and turned back to Mae, looking her dead in the eyes and putting a hand on her cheek.
"If you have a name, that'd be great. Otherwise just give me a location, something to go on. Anything. I'll find 'em."
"Of course I notice!" they snapped. "How do you not notice when the world is always screaming at you but then it isn't?" They recoiled as they spoke, something about this didn't feel right. Seven was angry, but they were more of a defensive kind of angry. They felt attacked. But...seeing Mae wipe tears did...something. They weren't sure what but it did...something and it didn't feel good at all. In fact, it felt like they'd been punched in the stomach, only Seven knew how to take a punch. That was nothing to them. This...this hurt. A lot.
"You're not like my headphones...you're warm," they said, feeling like that was the dumbest thing they could have said, so they added. "I don't know, Mae. I've never--" The door slammed by the time they found the correct words. "Felt this way before..."
They pulled the headphones over their ears and curled up on the couch. They felt a lump in their throat, and their heart was pounding like they were in the middle of a fight, but they weren't. They closed their eyes to sleep it off, and eventually they did manage to drift off to sleep. But it wasn't peaceful, between the buzz of the signals and the fluttering of their emotions. They tossed and turned on the couch, eventually rolling off the couch and hitting the floor with a thud. But they didn't get up. They just curled up and went back to sleep. Someone as cold and heartless and unforgiving as me deserves to sleep on the cold hard ground...
Their breathing eventually steadied as they drifted back off to sleep.
"Whoa, that's not what I meant at all. Like...to me a bloody lip, a busted nose, black eye? Those are like papercuts to me," they tried to explain. They raised an eyebrow.
"You're acting different. Like you're more...edgy. Like...like, me, if I'm being completely honest," they said, looking at her. "We are different, Maebell. Like night and day. But...if you say it's nothing, I believe you." They nodded, sliding a little closer, and realized they'd been doing that for a little while now, and their shoulder was touching Mae's now. They were usually only this close when they were sleeping.
"Well, it's not a big deal by your standards. Because a big deal to me is probably a cataclysmic event to you," Seven teased, completely oblivious to what was going on in Mae's head. Not that they would have really understood it if they did know. Crushes were beyond them.
"It's a little more complicated than that. I need a device like a phone that I can touch. I always carry a burner phone or three for this reason. And I'm more or less...following signals from other devices. I'm going by hearing alone so it can get a little bit...hairy sometimes. And God ****ing forbid I lose signal while I'm in the process..." They shook their head slightly.
They took a breath, looking over at Mae. "Something's wrong with you today," they said pointedly, their way of showing concern or asking if she wanted to talk about it. If she did, Seven wasn't entirely sure what they were going to be able to do about it.
"Hey, it's cool. I don't mind," they said calmly. "Besides, you didn't have a problem with it last night." A sly smirk played across their lips as they gave another shrug. They finished the dishes, and walked out with Mae, making sure the door was locked, as per usual.
After the day had wound down, and Seven came home, doctoring up a bloody nose; nothing too bad, this was literally a random nosebleed that happened from time to time. Must have used the teleportation-esque aspect of their powers too much that day. They didn't ruin any clothes, but they went through a lot of toilet paper because of this. After awhile, Seven came to the living area, a piece of tissue stuck up their nose. They could tell something wasn't quite right with Mae, but they didn't say anything. Just...plopped down next to her.
"Before you say anything, it was a random nosebleed. Happens when I use the other aspect of my power too much; I can teleport through certain electronics, is the simple version." They didn't think twice about the sleeping together, or any of that. To them it was just natural, and a way for Seven to get some peace and quiet.
"Oh, I'm like 97% alcohol already, it's fine," they said slyly. "Oh you were fine. Cuddlier than usual but...it wasn't bad," they said with a shrug as they looked at her, taking all the dirty dishes and putting them in the sink. "You had your arm around my shoulder and..." they snorted. "Let's just say your snoring's even cuter when it's directly in my ear," they teased, delivery as dry as usual, but they were obviously unoffended.
They began washing what few dishes they had. After all, Seven was already running behind, and they didn't have anything pressing to tend to today, so they were just gonna mess around, and maybe leave when Mae did. If they left at all, at this point.
"Not time to get up, I hope," was the grumble that escaped Seven's lips. They sighed as their eyes opened and Mae rolled away. They knew full well what time it was. "Sure we can't both just stay home..." they groaned as they sat up in bed. Technically they were already hella late, but when you worked for yourself(technically) you could start whenever the expletive you wanted to. Shaking their head groggily, they stood to their feet, blonde hair strewn positively all over their head, with some in the back resembling a peacock from having gone to bed right after their shower.
But **** had to be done, so they went about their business. Coffee, brushed teeth, but on the way to grab breakfast, they noticed they hadn't seen Mae yet, so they walked back in and gave her a firm--but not too firm--nudge on the lower back. "Wakey wakey, Sunshine," they said dryly before pulling the covers back and removing the pillow. "One of us is late already. You have to be the responsible one." Then, they went back to the kitchen and made a bowl of cereal to go with their coffee. And while they were at it, poured Mae a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal as well.
That noise...was that a snort. Seven felt the corners of their mouth tugging into a smile, and for a brief moment, there were teeth and a noise that slightly resembled a chuckle. That was choked down, then replaced with a look of mild concern as Mae almost choked, but that too was choked down.
"I asked about the state of the house, not of the food," they quipped dryly. "I told ya from the beginning I can't cook, didn't I?" The conversation faded into small talk, with Seven slightly explaining that they were by no means a picky eater, and would eat whatever Mae made without question. After all, there was a time where they only lived on their own cooking. They bid Mae goodnight, and stayed up a little while longer. One of the neighbors was arguing quietly over the phone, but Seven was able to tap into the whole thing from their perch on their own bed, with the TV off. Ooooh....man and his mistress having a good old fashioned verbal brawl? The plot thickens...
The argument ended anti climatically and Seven showered and dressed for bed, before going to the spot next to Mae that they'd grown so accustomed to. They pressed their back against the woman, as they'd always did, and very quickly drifted off to sleep. Mae seemed a bit more...cuddly...than usual, but they didn't mind. In fact, it was kind of nice. Warm. Besides, if this was how Seven was to repay Mae for everything extra she'd done, then that was just fine.
Seven woke up before Mae, as they usually did, and they cast a short glance at her sleeping form as they began to get ready. Compared to the first few days of being roommates, Seven had been a lot more considerate. Making sure Mae had a towel, leaving at least one cup's worth of coffee in the pot, and leaving it on so it would still be hot when she got it. Make life easier on your roommate, and they'll make life easier on you, right? Yeah.
The workday itself went pretty well, actually. So well, that when Seven got home, there were no cuts or bruises, or even a scrap of clothing out of place.
When they walked in, Mae had finished dinner and was in the process of fixing plates for the both of them. That was...thoughtful, and it brought back memories of their conversation the night before. 'People use people,' and yet, here Mae was, doing all of this for Seven: Spending time with them, letting them sleep in her bubble of silence, making them dinner...and aside from the basic cleaning up after themselves or making sure the door is closed, she'd asked for nothing in return. Unless one counted paying their half of the bills, which was the agreement anyway. This other stuff was...unnecessary, but they weren't going to complain.
"Yeah, I don't think we will. I'll try and manage without you though," they teased lightly. "Hey, I haven't burned the house down yet." They gave a grin, still not showing any teeth, but it was a genuine smile that made Seven feel kinda warm and tingly inside. They weren't too sure they liked that.
"That's pretty much all I know, Maeberry," Seven said as they leaned back against the sofa, taking another rather healthy swig of beer. "I mean, maybe it'd be nice to not have to worry about status quo and all that shit but...well, here I am."
After finishing their cleaning, Seven noticed that Mae had gone to bed, but they stayed up, having retreated to their room and downing another couple of beers. Then, they spent a few hours just zoned in on their TV, senses literally dead to everything else. They didn't know what time they finally turned it off, brushed their teeth, changed into an oversized shirt, and slid into bed with Mae again, but they did, making sure to get close enough not to freeze her out this time.
Their mind wandered to the conversation, trying to make heads or tails of it; why had they bothered sharing all that? After only a week, they felt they could trust Mae, and that was dangerous. But as they drifted off to sleep, a thought occurred to them.
With a nod, Seven hopped off the counter, grabbing a fork from where they'd stashed them(in the wrong spot, mixed in with the spoons), and fixed their meal before slowly making their way back toward the living room. When Mae spoke, there were those twinges again. It couldn't still be indigestion. Maybe they were just that hungry and hadn't realized it before. The mention of an ex made the hair on their neck bristle for some reason; maybe there was a draft somewhere.
"I didn't mean anything by it," they said flatly, shrugging lightly, then took a bite of their sloppy joe and chewed thoughtfully. "I can't say I've ever had a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or...any sort of significant other, really," they mused. "I mean, it was pretty much just sex. Until it wasn't and somebody moved on. For awhile I thought that's just how things work, right? Just like everything else. People use people, and then move on." Just saying that made them feel funny again; it was what they'd believed, but...something wasn't right. No matter, back to the food.
They spent the rest of their meal in silence, cleaning their plate, and even offering to take Mae's to the kitchen when she'd finished as well. Plates went into the sink, were washed, and Seven's beer bottle found the trash can. After they were done, they grabbed another beer and plopped right back on the couch, propping their bare feet up on the coffee table and taking a healthy swig.
The look made Seven shrug. Did they come home covered in blood a lot? It wasn't every day, but apparently to some people three times in one week was "a lot." They had to admit, Mae was good company, and they much preferred being with her than alone with their headphones. The headphones couldn't cancel everything and...they couldn't talk, or cook. And they weren't as warm and cozy...
Seven stayed on the couch, noticing a slight buzz starting to come from the things around them, like their phone, their laptop, the neighbors' TV--damn those people kept it on the Soap Opera channel all damn day, it seemed. Must have been an old lady or someone with no life whatsoever. They slid over to Mae's usual spot on the couch, but there was silence for only a few moments before it crept in again. So, Seven made their way to the kitchen, sitting at the table. And then, they moved again, sitting on the counter almost right next to Mae, one leg crossed over the other one.
"Want some company?" they asked, watching Mae work. It was weird, part of them might have...liked...being this close. Though they didn't know what it was. Maybe it was just nice to have someone around that wasn't always wanting money or some sort of job done. Seven and Mae could just....talk. And that was...okay.
Headphones were hanging around their neck, and their arms folded across their chest as they took a breath, thinking. "You know...what I said about your snoring...it's not bad. Sort of like those flat-faced dogs. The little ones, not the big ones that sound like a strangling bear." For some reason, they could manage that analogy, but words like 'cute' and 'adorable' were lost on them.
Seven glanced at the shirt, biting their lip as they realized how bad it was. The injuries were fine, that just happened, but they hated when they had to trash a perfectly good shirt. "The stains I'm not worried about, but I didn't realize it looks like it'd been through a cheese grater," they grumbled as they stepped forward and gently took the shirt, tossing it into the trash can they kept in their room. "You think we'll need a bio-hazard bag? I mean...I don't come home bloody that often, do I?" they asked with a small shrug.
Seven was getting better at groceries, and being a not-totally-lousy roommate, though still not a great one. "Not really, as long as you're the one cooking. I don't think I could stomach another night on my gourmet cuisine," they said dryly. "Pretty sure I've still got indigestion from the last time," they added, following Mae to the kitchen and going to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of beer before making their way back to the living area and plopping down on the couch.
The sun was barely up, city skyline still brushed with hues of pinks and orange. While most sane people were just starting their day, getting ready and making their morning commute and all that, some less in tact people were already well into the day.
One such person walked through an alley, taking a long drag from a cigarette as they found a good place to stop and lean against the wall, exhaling the smoke slowly and letting it wisp into the air. The hood of a dark grey hoodie covered a head of medium-length blonde hair and black, over the ear noise cancelling headphones. Their baggy blue jeans were ripped, but not pre-ripped and expensive. These looked a lot more natural, though the perfectly in tact skin of the knee, shin, and thigh showed that the rips were not recent, and likely didn't happen at the same time. Their white sneakers were worn and dirty, and their hands were stuffed into the hoodie pockets.
Suddenly quirking a brow, they lowered the headphones, letting them rest around their neck; no music had been playing in them, it was just to muffle the constant noise that now flooded their ears.
"Who's really the father? Find out next time on--And when they tell you that the good die young, do they tell you where the good die from?--BZZZZZRRRRTBEEEEEEPSKRRRRRRT--KSSSSSSSSSSK--Now in theaters, rated PG-13..." Their ears picked up footsteps, and another sound of static. Someone was approaching, and they had a phone and maybe another device on them, Seven couldn't quite tell. They pressed themselves against the wall, conveniently hiding behind a dumpster, and pulling out the flip-phone that was just on for one specific purpose.
When the person got to where Seven had been standing, the phone would clatter to the ground, and nobody would be there. Instead, the unsuspecting target would hear a voice behind them.
"Wallet. Hand it over," they demanded, voice flat and almost monotone.
