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.
She had just been starting to run out of sweet nothings and not-so-sweet nothings to boost Davids ego, when a sharp whistle garnered both their attentions. David didn't recognize the man holding the tray, but the commanding tone and sharp outfit certainly wasn't to be ignored. The damn bigwigs had probably just fired someone and brought some new face in without telling anyone. Happened all the time, much to the annoyance of the staff.
"Yessir." Not wanting to step on any toes, he set about getting himself back to work. David turned to apologize to the woman who he had been chatting with, and found her smiling sadly at him. "Time to part ways, I see. I can't very well go getting you into trouble for little old me." She moved to stand, but stopped when he gently touched her hand.
"Maybe... there is some way I can get back to you, after work?"
Megan grinned on the inside, but managed to crank down the volume of her merriment on the outside. She'd forgotten how fun it was to play this type of game with people. It was almost sad to have to quit now. She kept herself silent for a few seconds, as if she were really mulling over the question, before she leaned in and whispered her answer to him in the form of a series of numbers. Then, without one word more, she slipped away and headed in the direction Matt had gone. Leaving behind a bartender who was frantically searching for a pen to jot down the phone number she'd given him, which would later take him directly to a sewage processing plant just outside the state.
So much fun!
It only took a few minutes of brisk walking to meet back up with her date, and once she had she added two slim, fancy bottles of alcohol to his stolen tray. Booze which she had swiped herself, while David was busy hanging on her every word, with help from four medium sized spiders that had been lurking inside her dress. "Hope you like absinthe. Shall we?"
She nodded her chin in the direction of an empty hall, poorly sectioned off by a velvet rope fence. She had a general idea of what lay ahead and up a rather elegant staircase, but before she moved too far away she made sure to snatch a small tray of cocktail shrimp from a display.
"So wine coolers would work for that? Heh, lightweight."
He led her away, while she kept an eye out for anyone who might be following. Considering how many people had piled into the large ballroom, she wasn't expecting many. Where was he even leading her to, anyway? She thought the bar was in the other dire-- oh, nope. Never mind, he found it. "You been here before or something? The dark-haired mutant eyed her date suspiciously for a moment. What was the likelihood that she'd snagged some ex-rich bastard who plowed through his money and ended up a hobo? How else did he freakin' know how to dance like that?
Shrugging, she turned her attention to the task at hand. Their mission: acquire booze. Hurdles: Witnesses and a rather attentive looking bartender. Challenge. Accepted.
"You have no idea, Honey pants."
Separating herself from him with a wink, she headed for the bar with a saunter in her step. The lone guy tending to everyone was busy cleaning a crystal glass, as the sparse couples that littered the room had all retired to different nooks and tables to quietly chat. Like a good little worker his eyes were on her the moment she approached, though. "Anything I can get you, Ma'am?"
He was young-ish, in his thirties at max, and though he was starting to lose some hair up-top he was still a rather handsome fellow. Megan herself wasn't exactly the most beautiful bell of the ball, but she wasn't exactly hideous either. Considering her face wasn't littered with cuts and bruises, that is.
"Perhaps." She answered coyly, sitting herself down in a luxurious stool directly before the man. She smiled, plump red lips upturning at the corners, and glanced at his name badge momentarily. "Unfortunately, I've found myself lacking company for a little while while my date is dealing with some business." Megan trailed a fingernail across the marble counter slowly, leaning over as she gazed up at him through her lashes. "A man such as yourself, david, must surely know how to keep a woman properly... entertained, no?"
David was actually used to being hit on and flirted with by all manner of customers. People with money tended to swing their weight around pretty often in the strangest ways. Normally he turned them down, as it was against policy and he was on the job... but... he'd never seen such blue, blue eyes before. Such pale skin with contrasting dark hair. He also couldn't help but notice just how well her dress fit.
"...Depends on the kind of company you are looking for, Ma'am."
... Just because he didn't do it often, didn't mean he'd never done it at all. Megan had his attention sufficiently captured.
It felt like she was being woken up from a dead sleep by a root canal. The most intense, mind numbing pain racing through her body, forcing muscles to jerk and gasps she didn't know she was making to issue from her.
Her eyes shot open, lids feeling as heavy as cinder blocks, and the fuzzy, blurred shapes hunched over her. Panic was her instantaneous reaction, but she quickly found that she couldn't move her limbs. Her mind reeled while her body felt disconnected. Were those tubes sticking out of her? Why, yes they were.
Megan screamed bloody murder as a shattered rib slowly knit itself back together, and was dragged painfully into place. The sounds were a raw and honest representation of what she felt. Was this hell? Had she been abducted by aliens? The last things she could remember was staring at a floor with her hands framing her vision, as everything under her tilted and flooded red.
"Get that anesthetic over here right now! If we don't calm her down before--" She shrieked again, and finally managed to get her arms and legs to work. Her first weak attempts to push the silhouettes away from her ended up as nothing but easily contained thrashing. Then, something pokey jabbed her in the neck, a prick... and warmth flooded into her. The pain lessened slightly, she felt sleep tugging at her again, but still they continued on.
There were more broken bones to be set, more damaged organs to be fixed and fluids that needed to be removed from places they didn't rightly belong. The task at hand was sure to be a long and tiresome one...
Any thought of playing innocent and coy at the accusation was swiftly drowned and buried when he mentioned there being no alcohol. Instead, she groaned loudly and flopped over on the counter to bury her head in her arms and hate the world.
When the finely feathered mutant once again asked about food, she took one glance at the cereal box to her left and gave in. "Ugh, sure." Megan claimed her own chair at the table, flipping hers around so she could sit in it backwards and not feel as confined.
"I am Andrea."
"Charlotte." She muttered back, not bothering to look at the girl while she plopped her chin in one hand. "No meat for me, feathers." Was she being a little demanding? Of course she was, she was hungover.
The Greek at her side wrinkled her nose at Megan, which she caught from the corner of her eye, so she turned and wrinkled hers right back.
She responded, boredly picking at the peeling paint on her nails before she turned to continue her pursuit for after-hangover cures. Which would probably just end up being more booze.
"Where the hell do yall keep the spirits in here?"
The spider queen waved a box of cheerios at him in frustration, before tossing it onto the counter. Then, she eyed the food Mr. Feathers had been cooking, and pondered how quickly she could run off with it before he was once against unoccupied.
Megan watched the interaction through lidded eyes, scowling at the doctor when he first appeared. She wasn't a fan of people like him on good days, least of all right now. The seriousness in Maya's voice however, made the situation all the more important.
"Alright, Megan. Let me take a look at you." The old doctor neared her, even though she was eyeing him with the same intensity of a caged animal. Considering that Mirror had informed him of her pregnancy, even if she did have enough of a bump is expert eyes to tell, meant he knew where to look first. As gentle as he could he reached out to place his palm on her stomach, just above where she was clutching. The warm, golden glow of his power activating caught her by surprise for a moment, before she felt the heat roll through her.
Calm, relaxing warmth. This went on for a good number of minutes, the good doctor checking here, touching there, each time he made contact he was given a vision in return. Some of them were bad, to say the least, which made him glance at her at length more than once. Megan continued glowering back, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth, while flicking glances at Maya every so often.
She had no idea how the Doc's power worked, aside from snippets she had heard here and there. "What's wrong with me?" The question came out as more of a demand, but the doctor paid not attention to it. "... Perhaps it would be best if we discussed this in private, Megan." He told her, standing back up after his examination was done. He glanced at Maya, Megan glanced at Maya; dread filled her.
It was a question she appreciated, actually. Megan had always been a private person. This was a different situation, though. Something she wasn't prepared to deal with on her own. Maya was her only support, and just as involved as she was. More importantly, she was her friend.
"Anything you can say to me, you can say to her." Was her final reply. With a shallow sigh, the Doctor dragged up a seat in front of where Megan was seated, and sat himself down.
"I am afraid I have bad news.. none of which will be easy for you, Megan. The baby... didn't survive."
She hung her head, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. The doctor gave her a moment, before continuing. "From what I can tell it was due to your mutation... however, what I have seen leads me to believe that you are unable to bear children."
He continued on, something about needing to run further tests or whatever, but Megan had tuned him out. There were too many questions screaming at her; How? When? Why now?
She... she just needed to think a moment. She just needed to rest or something.
It was the first time she had ever seen Maya's power at work. It was something to behold, for sure, if she hadn't been busy inwardly panicking. Was this because she had gotten in that fight with Allison? The doctor at the Sanctuary had assured her that everything was okay. Then again, it was the sanctuary. Who was to say he hadn't simply lied to her?
Of all the thoughts going through her head in the dizzying, fast paced journey from the mall toward the mansion, one kept poking its nose into the forefront of her mind. It was her fault. She had been the one who'd gotten in over her head, and now it was coming back to bite her in the ass. There were always consequences; getting brought back to life with no ill effects should have obviously been a lie.
With her eyes squeezed shut for most of the journey, she kept one arm around Maya and the other around herself. A mantra of everything will be alright was on loop, then suddenly replaced by her friends calming words. You're gonna be fine.
She was gonna be fine. The baby would be fine. Everything. Would. Be. Fine. Clinging to those words didn't stop her from praying to every god and goddess she would think up. This wasn't what she wanted... she wanted to be a mom, even if she complained and gripped about it to everything with ears. She wanted this child... she could be a good parent.
"Charmed." She answered curtly back, blowing bangs from her eyes as she abandoned one cupboard and rested her back against the counter. The Green woman still refused to get down from the counter. It was cute. Horribly, offensively, cute. Crossing her arms over her chest, Megan silently commanded the spider on the counter to dance.
Following it's mistresses command, the arachnid hoisted itself up onto four legs, threw four more into the air, and started shimmying around on the counter.
"Hair of the dog." She eyed him for a moment, "or maybe feather of the bird, in this case, and... are you saying I have germs, Polly?"
Another body entered the room, slumping along in pink and black pants and a white tank-top, while the blue eyed spider on the counter tilted its body in a puzzled manner at the green screaming meatbag.
Megan, who was obviously suffering through the after effects of a long day of drinking, headed straight for the fridge. The twenty six year old yanked the door open, grabbed a jug of milk from inside, and took a long drink straight from it. Glancing over at the feathered mutant by the strove once she was done, and then at the green girl still hiding on the counter, she raised a delicate eyebrow and snorted.
"There some sorta convention going on in here or sumthin'?" Tossing the milk back into the fridge and kicking the door shut, she proceeded to start scouring cupboards and drawers in search of something to settle her stomach. Preferably something that would also put her back to sleep, so she could continue ignoring the existence of everything.
She grinned, and stepped a little closer to her friend. "Sounds like if you keep talking like that and I may just put you in charge of all my parental decisions!" Blank onesies, who would'a thunk it?
Where to go was a bigger question than she liked, mainly because it meant she had to use her brain, and she was also feeling hungry again. Hungry with a stomach ache, not a good combination. "I dunno, somewhere that won't annoy the crap outta me." Pressing her hand to her stomach a little harder as the pain spiked, she slowed and headed for a bench. "Hold on a sec... Something I ate must be disagreeing with me. Or us... whatever." Did that happen when people got knocked up? Could a baby decide he didn't like the salad you ate earlier and give you hell the rest of the day for it? Considering what she'd gone through the first month and a half of the pregnancy, she was more than willing to cling to that thought. How she'd not lost a crap-ton of weight while praying to the porcelain goddess ever flippin' morning was a freaking mystery to her.
Frowning at everything in front of her, Megan set her purse down and eyed possible routes that bee-lined to the bathroom. AT this rate, she was sure she'd need one. "Could ya sit with my bag while I run to the little girls room? I should only be a moment or two." Without really waiting for an answer, she stood and shuffled off toward the loo.
Thirty minutes came and went while she was gone, and when she finally returned Megan was pale as a ghost and shaking. She wasn't sure what was going on, she wasn't a freakin' doctor, but her gut was screaming at her that something was wrong.
"Maya, something's wrong. I need to go to the hospital." Her insides clenched again, and she was barely able to bite back a groan. There was a trail of red that had crawled down one leg, staining the fabric of her pants. She was trying not to panic; Stay calm, Meg... stay calm. Everything's gonna be alright. She was also failing spectacularly at not panicking.
One dance... one rotation. Okay, so... she could do this. Not like she had much of a choice anyway, since her dance partner was already on the move and dragging her with.
One, two, three... One, two, three... once, twice, th-- She tripped, and only barely caught herself on Matt. The mumbled curse that followed would have made a politician blush. "Give me a karaoke bar any day full of drunks... this is almost-" She shut up real quick when another dancing couple waltzed by, forcing a smile onto her lips. The woman who passed smiled back politely, and Megan waited for them to step out of range before she finished her thoughts. "...goddamn painful."
Still, he had a point, and she'd honestly rather dance with the homeless stranger she maybe abducted/bribed, than the guy with the pencil thin mustache who'd tried to steal her away. In fact, it actually got easier once she got the rhythm down. There wasn't all the much too it, just as he'd said. Easier than learning pointe, anyway.
Temporarily lulled into quiet by dividing her attention in three directions, it surprised her when Matt spoke up about escaping to the bar before the dance was even over. She'd just been about to question him on how he even knew how to dance, too. Instead, she pushed the question back for another time, and flashes her pearly whites at the man. "You had me at drink!"
Impatiently, she didn't wait for him to lead them off, and simply ducked out of eyesight behind those still dancing. One brisk walk along the wall later, and she had successfully angled them off the dance floor, and away from any grabby partners. Now... to find the bar. Glancing over her shoulder at her tux clad hobo, she briefly considered dropping off a few spiders on a wall to do the job for her. If she were caught, however... she wasn't exactly sure how any of the other guests would react to her mutation.
Well, actually, she did know how some of them would react. It was pretty tempting to set her spiders loose in a room most certainly packed full of squeamish, easily spooked old biddies. Just not enough to blow her cover before she had her fun, though.
"What do you say to us swiping a bottle or two and escaping to find somewhere more private, eh?" A house as expensive and over the top as the one she was currently in just begged for some collateral damage. She was more than willing, and able, to comply. "I hope there's some kinda rum for me." She eyed him for a moment, and smirked. "...and maybe they'll have some wine coolers for you."
It was... strange. A calm washed over her. She had long since closed her eyes, the darkness has blotted out her vision anyway, and there was an slow, gentle thump-thumping in her ears. Muted and rhythmic like a lullaby, lulling her closer and closer to sleep.
It was the most frightening and peaceful thing she had ever experienced. There was a distant, far away pain... constantly humming a warning from somewhere behind all that black. She didn't feel bothered to search for it, though. It was easier, better, to just float along. Where to? She didn't know. There was no knowing.
Megan just wanted to sleep... she just wanted to let the cold overwhelm and enclose her. Thump-thump... thump-thump... the drums of a war she didn't have to fight any longer.
The horror of having to let some walking, talking wallet of a man drag her around a dance floor had just been fully settling in, when her date promptly swept in and saved her. Which was good, because she knew herself well enough that after five minutes of stumbling around, she'd have gotten fed up and punched his teeth out.
To save face for the both of the, she giggled girlishly and batted her eyelashes at the man and his... woman as Matt dragged her off. "Maybe next dance, deary~"
Of course, she still ended up on the dance floor, only now she was set to stumble around with a slightly more pleasant hobo, rather than a rich snob. "One circuit?!" If her tone conveyed outrage, that's because she was freaking out on the inside. The only kind of dancing she knew how to do involved hopping up and down in place, waggling parts that shouldn't be waggled, and... ballet. And goddammit, she was not about to re-enact swam lake in six in heels.
"I don't know how the hell to dance to this sh*t!" She was trying to keep her voice down, and with a smile still pinned on her face she was sure she looked pretty silly dropping curse words at her date. The fact that he was so close, or that his arm had looped around her tightly, didn't even register as she was trying to copy the moves of people around her.
... rather unsuccessfully.
"Can't we just skip the dancing and get to the drinking already?"
"Oh dear... The way this one nags me sometimes, you'd think she was due sometime herself. No, no, I kid. I would be lost without my Charlotte. Isn't that right, darling?"
If looks could kill...
William chuckled, tucking his thumbs into the pockets of his fine vest. Megan didn't miss a beat, while she batted her eyelashes at Matt. "One could say you'd be in the gutter without me, dearest~
"A woman with a fine sense of humor! Be still my beating heart, were I only forty years younger." William's brow wrinkled in mirth, and he fished in his pocket for something. "My, yes my dear Mr. Tripton. Hubert does fancy himself quite the collector, but he isn't the only one you know! Anything that stuffy old squirrel finds worthy, is at least ten times too good for him. I on the other hand, am... If you are perhaps willing to do business with me, of course." Out from a pocket he pulled a small white business card with his name and company logo swirled elegantly across the front.
"My Mildred may not seem it at first glance, but the woman has an eye for fine art. Unfortunately, she lacks patience, and if I delay much longer I will be the one sleeping with the dogs tonight!" He winked at Megan and held out his business card to Matt. "Give me a ring if will, Mr. Tripton. I'm very interested in seeing what you've got." He tipped his hat to Megan politely, shook Matt's hand once more, and excused himself to what had to be a miserable car ride home with his shrew of a wife.
Megan peered at her date for a moment, before shrugging the whole interaction off. It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things since the old bat and her husband had left. Setting her drink down on the tray of a passing butler, she tugged Matt's arm toward where the bar had been pointed out.
As it turned out, though... the bar wasn't what Megan was typically used too. There were drinks, of course, instead of just bubbly. But there was also a huge dance floor, complete with people waltzing around.
... This had not been a part of her plans for the night. Frowning slightly, she peered around for anything that resembled a punch bowl, or shrimp platter. Unfortunately, her and Matt were approached by a middle-aged couple straight off the dance floor.
"Madam, may I have this dance?" The male questioned, hardly waiting for her to even reply before he'd already started trying to pull her away. His female counter part was already reaching for Matt, ogling him up and down like he was an appetizer. "Let's dance, sugar!"
"William Johansen, and this is my Wife Mildred." The woman sniffed indignantly, and offered a flat, curt. "How do you do."
William ignored her for the most part, even though she tugged at his arm impatiently. It wasn't everyday he happened into bright young faces such as this, especially ones who'd received invitations to events such as this. "Good to meet you, Mr. Tripton. Would you humor an old man in his curiosity for a moment?" His wife huffed, tugging harder. "Oh William, Please! Not everyone wants to stand and chat all day about finances and stock."
He waved a hand flippantly at her, "Fine fine, i'll make it quick. Go on out to the car. I'll be but a moment."
Megan, who'd been busy batting her eyelashes and counting how many expensive jewels Mildred had on, bit back a snicker with everything she had as the woman harrumphed haughtily, excused herself, and stomped past. William, the brilliant man he was, waited until she was out of earshot before speaking. "You'll have to excuse her, menopause and all that, you know."
Megan nearly choked on her drink again.
"Now, back to business. What brings a dapper young lad such as yourself to one of Hubert's parties? He's usually such a stick in the mud when it comes to the company he keeps."