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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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.
Zselyke chuckled, holding her tongue at the urge to accuse Sveta of selecting. "You may have noticed, but I'm not exactly lacking in the boob department, so I've got no preferences there." Would she turn away a girl like Bubbles? Certainly not, though the dancer on her way across the club was more bottom-heavy. "My 'type' is women. I don't know; it is easy to be picky with men, but women are a different story. I just like to leave myself open to the experience, so to speak.
The dancer with the dark complexion approached from behind Zselyke's seat, leaning in toward the Senator's ear with a very tempting offer. Zselyke bit her lower lip, considering it. Still, there was another woman she wanted to spend time with today. "Tempting, but come back to me in an hour? My friend and I are enjoying a chat, but I promise to save my first dance for you."
If the dancer was disappointed, she his it well. She'd be back, because Zselyke made no effort to hide her wallet so far tonight. Zselyke raised her glass to Sveta. "I say we try to make a drinking game out of our dating histories?"
When Zselyke thought of Sveta, she didn't think of an off balance woman out of her depth. She saw her friend as a badass who found ways to work through whatever challenges she ran into. She was managing to hold Haven together without Devon, and not only had she found a way to deal with the SUPER problem, she found an unlikely in with the organization. "You need to give yourself more credit, dear."
Socially, Sveta was prepared to be something for the consumption of men and the male gaze. The smile she added at the end, perfectly suited for a country club brunch, made Zselyke shiver. "Okay, now I'm the one off balance. It's like you were pod personed for a moment."
Drinking and making eye contact with a dancer across the club, Zselyke considered Sveta's experiences. "When sexuality is something you're trained to offer men, I'm guessing it's quite the change to see femininity and sexuality with no men involved. Just you and a very soft, touchable co-ed." The dancer who caught Zselyke's eye was casually making her way across the club, but if Zselyke were a betting woman, she probably had the offer of a private dance in her future.
I "And bride school never prepared me for... well, this. I was supposed to be arm candy. I can listen to people talk about investments with a blank smile for basically ever." she chuckled, demonstrating her best vague-smile bimbo impression.
There were different ways to be overwhelmed, and Zselyke had never seen Sveta affected by sexuality. Given what she explained about her past, Bubbles was far outside of Sveta's element. And she may have stood awkwardly at first, but the way she responded to the dancer's body... Zselyke could be wrong, but she wouldn't call it discomfort.
"Well, you've been a trooper and I'm thoroughly amused, so you're free to retire from the stage for the night," she joked. "I'm down for some drinks with my friend. It's nice not having anything serious to worry about tonight."
Letting the influence of alcohol seep into her, Zselyke nudged Sveta playfully, immediately losing luster from her dress as the color transferred into several colorful illusionary plants on the table. "So Little Miss Bubbles managed to do what SUPER and the criminals of New York couldn't; knock Svetlana Sergeyeva off balance. And here I thought bride school taught you how to be sexy and composed?
Zselyke was ready, smiling like a fool when Sveta returned to the table. She had done Sveta the favor of ordering her a double whiskey sour to help her come down from whatever she had seen and felt so close to Bubbles and her show. "Now was that so bad? she teased. "A new experience never hurts. Now you can die knowing what it feels like to have a gorgeous younger woman more or less offer herself to you. Not that I'd know anything about that," she added, sipping her drink with a smug sense of validation. Even Sveta could blush. And by the gods, was she red.
Sveta needed to give herself more credit. She was strong, competent, and people could rely on her. She could downplay how she got into her position, but she lived a life of challenges, coming through the other side with experiences most people could not imagine. The more Zselyke got to know her young friend, the more she admired her.
The blatant way Sveta called men useless had Zselyke almost snort mid-sip. The way she recalled her past romantic experiences played out like lessons learned from horror stories. She would have to ask the details of some of those eventually. "Men are the worst," she agreed. "Sometimes I wonder why I was cursed to be bisexual. I blame that sense of attraction on my lizard brain. My base instincts. Not that there aren't some problematic women; my first girlfriend did cheat on me after I moved to the US to see her."
Zselyke downed her drink and looked back at the stage where a dancer was ending her performance and attendants were collecting the cash strewn about the stage for her. "I was worried that experience could have spoiled me on women or dating in general, but..." She trailed off, watching the victorious dancer walking away, swaying in all the right ways. Dreamily, Zselyke added, "Women."
"Next to the stage, give a warm welcome to our favorite girl next door, Bubbles!"
Zselyke's ears perked up. "Oh hey, I think your little girlfriend's on next."
It was a relief to know Sveta's sister was safe. Money was not everything in life, but in the world they lived in, it was, unfortunately, the difference between living comfortably and choosing between exploitation or starvation. Sveta was finally in a position in life where she had real money, and she was using that to protect her sister. That was so very like her. "It's fair. New York can be hectic. Still, I'm glad she's got her big sister keeping her safe. I'd love to meet her one day." They were hoping to make New York a better place for everyone, so maybe they could find a room for her in the Haven HQ eventually.
There were overbearing mothers, and then there was a mother who bought a mail-order bride for her son without telling him. Awful. Zselyke left questions of Sveta's first interactions with her mutant fiancé to her imagination, knowing things with Sveta's powers could get messy. "Oh, I don't know. Your luck's turned around quite a bit; pillar of the mutant community, influential, CEO, and now you have an amazing partner in crime," Zselyke joked.
Draining her glass, Zselyke nonchalantly added, "Unless you mean your luck with men. That sounds like it's been properly shite from what you've told me."
It was hard to vie for attention in a strip club, what with the lighting, the music, and the dancers putting skin on display. That made it all the more impressive when Sveta dropped a bombshell so unexpected, Zselyke forgot she was in the VIP section of a strip club.
An arranged marriage sounded like a nightmare for Zselyke, who was notorious for dissenting to anyone telling her what to do. The circumstances leading up to that were upsetting, with Sveta and her sister dealing with abuse from a parent and the men she let into their lives. Sveta had never mentioned her sister until now, and it made sense why she would keep her sister close to the chest. It was good to know they escaped, but where would kids like that go?
To someone else who could exploit them. Zselyke sipped her drink, trying not to let her empathy come across as pity, because it was not. Sveta made impossible choices for herself and her sister. She smiled back when Sveta grinned, but that story was a lot to process. She wondered how much processing Sveta had done about her own past. "Suddenly, 'cheated on by my high school girlfriend' feels like a tepid origin story," she joked. "Well, while I won't pretend you didn't nail the sexy lessons, it must have been hard learning about sexuality and bodily autonomy through that lens; a utility to offer to men. No wonder you had apprehensions about a place like this."
Exhaling, Zselyke had to tackle the other bombshell in Sveta's story. "So your sister... is she safe? Did she get matched, too?"
Everyone viewed the world differently based on who they were and the life experiences they had under their belt. Zselyke, for all the obstacles she had overcome, had a better life than many people. She was an immigrant, but her parents had the financial standing to send her to America and help her through college. Being white, European, and pretty also came with their own privilege.
What kind of politician would she be if she ignored the life experiences and world views of others? Well, she'd be like most of her colleagues, but the goal was always to be better than them.
Relaxing back into her seat and watching a ripped young man tear away his pants, her attention was still on Sveta. She wanted to appreciate the show, but she returned to her friend as she always did. "You haven't. Did you also get lured here by love? By a guy?" Zselyke's experience had been with a girl who had tugged her heartstrings overseas, but she figured she could adjust for Sveta's experiences.
Some mutation secrets were harder to hide than others, and Sveta's put her in a precarious position. Most people she would ever meet were not mutants. It was hard to get a census for a species of people who were constantly (and rightfully) concerned about abuse by the government, but as mutant numbers grew, it was still likely nineteen of every twenty people Sveta met would be human. The Twentieth person might be human. But at any given time, there was a not-insignificant chance she'd bump into a mutant if she was not careful and not lucky, and that could cause a proper mess.
It felt like things would be easier for her if her mutation was known publicly, or at least her reasons for being cautious of other mutants. It was amazing how much restraint and control Sveta exhibited to keep people around her safe, and she kept it to herself, along with the stress that choice caused.
Tonight, they would put aside the worry that someone would question her aversion. The dancers were informed, they were welcoming, and they both knew there was not a bigoted bone in Sveta's body.
The chance to progress the conversation arrived alongside a new round of drinks in the form of Zselyke's spicy past. The Senator grinned. "Well, I wasn't a Senator at the time-- not that it'd stop me, I promise you." There was still a possibility she'd find her way onto the stage later in the evening, so she did not want to rule it out. "After I moved here for freshman year and the girl I had been smitten by decided to spoil a good thing, I hit schoolwork hard and bottled up a lot. My friends dragged me out to a club like this but less cool."
The next round of drinks arrived to the table; whiskey sours. (Off in the distance, the dancer in yellow winked to Sveta when she raised her glass before disappearing backstage to prepare for her stage set.) Zselyke thought nothing of it, sipping her drink and continuing. "I was so pent up, but a few drinks and the attention of sweet, scantily clad women did a lot to unwind me. And one thing led to another and I was unbuttoning my top with my hand on a pole. It's eye-opening to step out of your comfort zone like that sometimes." She chuckled, taking a big sip, before adding, "If I wasn't convinced my parents would have personally brought me back to Hungary, I would've picked it up for some pocket money." Once she decided politics was part of her path, Zselyke ruled out a stripping side job; America was not that accepting back then.
Staff did not fail to disappoint. Considering how touch that played a contentious role in Svetlana's life, it was reassuring to know the dancers would be respectful and not freaked her out.
The bigot part was mostly concerning. "I'm sure she doesn't think that. Sorry, I didn't want to ruin tonight for you with the stress of possibly blowing the place up." Maybe being vague here was a poor plan. "If there's any confusion, I'll say I have a mutations that's weird around other mutants." Zselyke wouldn't out a friend, but she was fine outting herself to a coven of strippers.
Taking her seat, Zselyke drew her finger from her neck to the bottom of her chest, creating an illusionary tie like the yellow dancer's, but in an emerald shade of green. "I promise I won't leave you to go skirt, er, thong chasing. I'm content with a little sitting, drinking and talking with occasional stage ogling. Also, you might need to convince me after a few drinks that it is not a good idea to take a turn on stage. Because I will think it's brilliant-- based on past experience." At least she had pole dancing classes under her belt.
Zselyke was certain she had caught a dose of perfume and glitter from all the attention Demi paid her. She was absolutely find with bills tucked in her waistband. She was apparently fine with contact, too, given how much of it she showed the Senator.
This place was the best. Ten outta ten.
On her way back to the table, she saw the dancer in yellow making an exit, piquing her curiosity. She spotted a shot left on the table and downed it without questioning it. Whiskey, maybe with an apple bourbon twist. She was going to leave legendary reviews on this place. "Yes and sorry! Didn't mean to be gone long, but I sort of picked up a one-song job as a replacement stripper pole."
Watching the yellow dancer walking away, appreciating the view, Zselyke had to ask. "I guess I'm not the only one who got a woman's attention tonight. Did she try convincing you to buy a dance?" She really didn't want to make her friend feel awkward, but she was also sad to have missed an interaction like that.
Being queer and being a mutant were life experiences that came with a lot of overlaps. Judgement. Hiding. The journey of personal acceptance. Eventually, Zselyke would come out as a mutant publicly; it was something she concealed not due to shame, but so she could do as much political good for mutants before every pro-mutant bill was bashed by her opponents as self-serving. "Yep, and even though it's bullshit, we let it slow us down. It was annoying living in the world sometimes.
Sveta passed on coming up to the stage, still not big on the idea of getting too close to others. To her credit, that hang-up was understandable given her long history of misfortune in that department. "Fair enough, but I'm making a note to recommend they find an adapted dancer somewhere for next time." There was that nice new girl on Broadway; maybe she was looking for a side-job. Tucking away the mischievous idea to make introductions, Zselyke walked to the stage, almost immediately catching the eye of the dancer. There were benefits to being a woman at a club like this.
Like any politician, Zselyke could go off and talk for hours on any topic, but it was different when she was passionate about one. Luckily, Zselyke was a passionate person who had a hill to die on in every conversation. Her friends in college loved pumping drinks into Zselyke, making a divisive statement, and enjoy their drinks and an intense rant from their opinionated foreign classmate.
Knowing what the rest of her night had in store, Zselyke downed the sweet and sour cocktail for some liquid courage. She was going to have a lot to explain to Sveta.
A new office, thankfully, was not on the list. "I may be progressive, but moving my campaign into a strip club would be a hard sell. More than that, I don't want to ruin this place with the scent of Congress." Zselyke shuddered, as though she was not an active part of Congress. "Though I haven't given up on the idea of hosting a campaign event here. I can't believe I'm saying this, but this is basically like an embodiment of my worldviews."
Setting down her drink, Zselyke pulled a few bills, including a few higher denominations from her purse. Whoever the dancer on stage was, she was putting in work and Zselyke did not come to the club to be stingy. While she grabbed some of her money, she recalled the past. "I remember being in denial of being queer until my late teens. We're taught conservative and, honestly, prudish ideas of who we're supposed to be and rules we have to follow, and we associate everything else with shame. And then eventually you realize you're not the good Christian girl you were told to be and you either bury it in shame or you decide shame is bullshit."
Standing from the cushioned seat, Zselyke gestured to the nearby side stage. "So a place where no one is feeling shame, everyone's empowered to explore and embrace themselves, and no one is being exploited for it really is my dream. As such, care to join me as I try offer a topless dancer a hundred dollars? Ideally in her waistband, if she's fine with that."
Politics was a game of personality more than intelligence. You could always surround yourself with smart people to help you make good decisions, but it meant nothing to be smart of you could not lead. Zselyke was lucky to have that charisma along with enough smarts to use it effectively. She usually even used it for good. Today, she was using it to lead her friend and colleague confidently into a strip club. She would chalk that up as a Chaotic Neutral decision for now.
Dancers were walking the floors between their dances, chatting up guests and sweet-talking their way into backrooms for lap dances where they could make a big chunk of their change for the night. It was not missed that many dancers, male and female, noticed the pair walking through the club. They were VIPs, which meant they should be spoiled and they came with big wallets. They were also women Zselyke was confident calling beautiful. (Once again, a year without shame.) They must have been a nice change of pace from the lion's share of the crowd. One tall brunette with olive skin definitely called Sveta a cutie as they passed, which Zselyke had to bite her tongue from commenting on.
Taking a sip of her drink once they were at the table, Zselyke raised an eyebrow at the assumption made by her companion. "Did you expect anything less from me?" She smirked, setting down the drink that she was sure had some kind of passionfruit liqueur in it. "I picked this place because it impressed me. There are definitely sleezy clubs out there, even on the high end. This place is female-owned, it contracts its dancers so they're paid an actual wage on top of the tips they earn. According to Geneva, the main owner, each employee even has partial ownership when club decisions are made." This was Zselyke's socialist paradise; of course it would be a strip club. If only she could find a way to sell the club as a microcosm for an effective economic plan.
Looking up to the main stage, the female dancer was down on the stage after sliding gracefully back down the poll. Zslyke watched with interest and, yes, attraction, as the dancer flipped the clasps holding her corset together. Props to her for even dancing in a corset, though it was inevitably a set piece meant to fall to the floor. "Sexuality is so often either demonized or exploitative. It's nice being somewhere where people can get past those ingrained hang-ups and own their sexuality, literally and figuratively." It certainly made it easier to watch the shimmy of exposed skin with less guilt knowing the dancers were the ones in charge of the experience.
Zselyke laughed sharply at the implication there. "Correction; It blows back on men if they kill or impregnate a stripper. Nine times out of ten, if they're caught sleeping with one, it's swept under the rug." People saw politicians get into scandals and assumed there were consequences for their actions. They only saw a fraction of the situations where politicians misbehaved, and even then, most of them dealt with two weeks of bad PR and somehow managed to stay in the political sphere.
Ultimately, Zselyke would never force her friend to do anything she was completely uncomfortable with. There were backup plans for the night if Sveta backed out, but Zselyke hoped the intrigue of a new experience would tempt Sveta. Something about the magic of a place like Hexes and Hoes calling her to peek out of her shell. Sveta relented, accepting the plan, which was enough for the Senator to clink their flutes and down her champagne. "Accept life and the glitter it occasionally comes with," she beamed back. Victory looked good on Zselyke.
Stepping out of their private car and being led in by the woman leading security at the club, Zselyke was impressed by her first look at the space in full swing. The club was kept in low light, with strategic colored lighting in place so people still saw each other and what they were doing. All the attention, however, was drawn to the stages. The main stage was clearly repurposed from the theater the club was born from, but there were two secondary stages in the wings of the club. All three stages had dancers performing tonight, which likely was not the case during the weekdays. The two women and one man on their respective stages still had tops on, so the song was clearly still beginning, letting them show off their elaborate twirling around their polls. There had to be some urge to be competitive, right? Three people dancing and showing off must have the desire to put on a sexier, more acrobatic display than the others. Zselyke liked that idea.
Led to a VIP table of their own, a dancer in lacy pastel canary yellow lingerie and thigh highs flashed the pair a winning smile as they passed her. "That's why I love places like this. Not the half-naked women; well, partially that," she admitted, matter-of-factly. "Just the willingness to fly in the face of shame. I've made it my own personal mantra that Twenty-Twenty-One is a year to say no to shame."
Zselyke slid into her seat, pleased to see a house cocktail waiting for her. "That's why I joined your band of misfits," she teased.