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.
Khalil fluttered to the ground, watching the blonde's demise dispassionately. As she faded, the horrific scenes she created faded, too, plunging the park into darkness. The woodchips dulled to just embers in the breeze, the children were coming down from their trances. But the niggling fear had not released its hold on Khalil. It didn't need the external stimulus to stick around. He now felt like absolute sh** on his own volition. He mopped at his eyes, smearing face paint on the back of his gloved hand. A shriek surrounded them, connecting at a source, and a bolt of adrenaline went through Khalil.
Were they really not out of it? A darkness thicker than the dark around them congealed and then fell limply to the ground. Stephanie?
>> "Mommy! Mommy?"
It was her. Khalil ran, too, his legs feeling heavy. Stephanie. No. No, no, no. Khalil closed the distance between himself and the two ladies, a firm hand clasping around Malia's shoulder, squeezing it lightly as he knelt.
>> "Mister Khalil, is mommy okay?"
"I'll check, sweetheart," he murmured, "I'm checking."
A stitch formed in his brow, and two fingers touched to the side of Stephanie's throat, over an artery. He waited. There was a pulse. Khalil sighed, tossing the child a half-smile.
"Mommy is gonna be okay," he assured her. He couldn't leave Stephanie lying on the ground like this. Couldn't be a good thing for the kid to see, "Mommy used her shadow to fight a big, scary thing, and now she's very tired. So, we're gonna take Mommy home and put her to bed, okay?"
Malia nodded her head, fat tears rolling down her cheeks her plump fingers knotting in the red wig. Khalil caught one such tear with a bent index finger, and then tapped her chin.
"You're a brave girl, Malia," Khalil assured her, "Can you keep being brave for Mommy?"
The child nodded her head, hiccuping unceremoniously. Khalil nodded, "Good girl."
He looped an arm under Stephanie's arm and around her back, pulling her into a sitting position. Another arm was tucked beneath her knees. Stephanie would kill him if she caught him carrying her bridal style. With that thought eating away at him, Khalil rose to his feet, adjusting Stephanie in his hold.
"Gentlemen," he said, clearing his throat and nodding his head to the cowboy and the Scot, "I would love to say that it's been a pleasure, but..." He gave a knowing smile, "I'm going to get my two friends back home, if that's quite alright with you."
The last thing he needed was for the kid to notice the dead girl in the darkness. He wouldn't hear the end of that. Whether or not the cowboy or the Scot bade him farewell was beyond Khalil. With one final adjustment of Stephanie's dead weight, nestling her head against his shoulder so that she didn't loll about, Khalil began to walk.
"Come on, sweetheart," Khalil said, "Let's go home."
The gargoyle wouldn't call herself a sushi connoisseur-- there were only two places that served sushi near her childhood home in Mendocino, about twenty minutes up the road in Fort Bragg, and they could be lumped in the category of "casual dining". Only once had she gone to a higher-end jazz club/sushi restaurant in the Bay Area, but she was about eight years old at the time, and scarcely remembered it.
Gina stuck her tongue out at the slight against the West Coast, and quipped, "As long as I avoid the rolls with 'avocado', I'll be fine."
The avocado here was depressing, that was a fact. The gargoyle grinned as she shrugged the shawl off of her shoulders and draped it over the back of the chair. Gina carefully took the seat across from Nessa, tail tucked away from the aisle, wings to either side of the chair. Once that was all settled, she scooted her chair in, casually leaning into the table to listen as Nessa recounted the goings-on in the past week. A smile flickered over Gina's features as the older brunette confessed missing her-- alot.
Through her mind flickered snapshots of her own time away from Nessa, which included an all-nighter (which was not such a big deal, for someone who was predisposed to be nocturnal, though the the day after had been Hell). This stemmed from the shortcomings of one flaky group-member, who had neglected to do their part of the group-project. It was thus left to the rest of the group to pick-up the slack. Tonight, the gargole's hair was mostly down, spare the top layer of hair that'd been wrangled into a clip, so Gina idly twirled the curl.
"I've missed you too, babe," Gina echoed truthfully, "I've been such a slave to that project, though. I don't think I would have been very good company-" a half-hearted, fanged grin accompanied that remark, "-remember that slacker-kid I told you about? Guess who, the night before the project was due, didn't have his part of the presentation done? So the other group-mates and I had to pick-up the slack..."
A sigh, "We totally rocked it, of course, but like-- I was such a zombie that day. I probably would've just, like, slept on your couch-"
This was pretty close to the truth. As Gina smiled at Nessa, her gaze lingering in her girlfriends, another snapshot flickered through her mind, of the gargoyle flopping onto the couch at Honeycomb, her face pressed onto the throw-pillow. "Just for a minute!" The time was 4:15. A minute later, it was approaching 11:00.
Posted by Gina Schuyler on Oct 28, 2017 9:22:40 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
palevioletred
pansexual
taken - by nessa
1,265
196
Apr 25, 2024 23:12:30 GMT -6
Sophy
Gina was not sure what "Demigod clothes" were, but she listened as Kalos spoke, her hand resting just below her lip. Kalos demonstrated how her sweatshirt, covered in sequins, was her favorite because of how they changed colors. Internally, the gargoyle felt a simmering dread. That was a lot of detail work and, though doable, would take hours upon hours to replicate. There were simply some feats that handmade fashion couldn't replicate.
"It is magic!" the gargoyle agreed, smiling, "I like how sparkly it is. And I don't think I ever had clothes that changed colors like that..."
As the gargoyle commented on the coral-child's favorite sweater, she was taking mental notes. So the dress needed to accommodate her coral growths, and would definitely (definitely!) need to include some sparkles. Most likely. Maybe something that fastened around the neck, had open shoulders and then long sleeves... in case it was cold. Maybe a capelet! That was regal!
Gina took the sewing machine handle in one hand, standing up again, and she nodded towards the couches in the living room. Though most of the couches had been sheared of their cushions, there were a few chairs that hadn't been shed.
"Let's go sit on the couches, Miss Kalos," the gargoyle said warmly, "And you can tell me all about the queenly outfit you'd like."
Posted by Gina Schuyler on Oct 26, 2017 21:42:46 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
palevioletred
pansexual
taken - by nessa
1,265
196
Apr 25, 2024 23:12:30 GMT -6
Sophy
There was wriggling in the fortress, a toppling of cushions which fell away to reveal a very pink little kid. Pink and spiny, with sea-blue eyes. Gina's tail gave a delighted curl. What a cutie!!
>> "My hero sister-brother has this message for you, dear Gina."
Gina set her sewing machine down, accepting the note with two hands. She flipped it over, brown eyes flicking over the message.
'Kalos wants to be a princess for Halloween.'
Oh, so she was in her princess phase? Gina had fallen hardcore into her princess phase as a little kid, always a huge fan of pink of floof and being treated regally. A smile touched her expression.
>> "I am told that you are a very nice person."
Kids were so filter-free. It was so refreshing.
"I try to be," Gina answered honestly, "My liege-- it says you need some queenly clothes. Is that so?"
A stab of cold terror sheathed itself in Khalil's psyche, pushing deeper, rocking him to his core. He had no pressing phobias, no irrational concerns to send visions cascading before his eyes.
He feared death. A lonely, miserable, terrible death. He knew he wasn't ugly, so "dying ugly" was altogether impossible. But the chill that washed over him made him feel very much alone. This worm could eat him up... the terrors raining from the sky could obliterate him... and no one would know. No one would care. It was utterly devestating, the feeling that rocked through him. The cowboy was beating the sh** out of the worm with a light. The kids were surging forward, the worm flickered out of view, the girl was on the ground.
Tears were melding with oily facepaint and sending streaks down the demon's cheeks. If he was going to die for nothing, with all of these hellacious beasts raining down upon him, he was going to take someone with him. The source of all this. It'd be more difficult for the blond school-girl to dodge now that she was on the ground, and Khalil loomed above her. Stephanie was upon the schoolgirl first, absorbing her in her ever-elastic shadow-form, propelling her away from the children, and depositing her farther off.
>> "Have at her!"
Khalil, who'd already been concocting a hefty fireball, lobbed it at the woman. While he had reservations about harming kids, anyone who tried to bring about the end of this New York or the other would be on the recieving end of a fireball. She couldn't summon any more of the hellbeasts that were now descending upon them if she was burnt to a crisp. The orb combusted, flowering outward around the young woman's feet and legs, and Khalil's mouth twisted into a smile, teeth grit against the urge to sob. A laugh escaped him, a hollow and unconvincing thing.
"If we go, you're going down with us," he spat, inhaling shakily. He'd let the men (and woman) on the ground handle the rest. He needed to save his firepower for the things that loomed above.
Posted by Gina Schuyler on Oct 25, 2017 21:33:46 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
palevioletred
pansexual
taken - by nessa
1,265
196
Apr 25, 2024 23:12:30 GMT -6
Sophy
The gargoyle harbored her own anxious feelings about the night, for entirely different reasons. You'd have to be blind to not think that there was chemistry between the gargoyle and Vanessa Bookman. Gina had slept over a handful of times, hung-out with her and Booker, and... there was something there, definitely no denying that.
Of course, ever considerate of the brunette's feelings (she was, after all, the ex-girlfriend of one of Gina's best friends), the gargoyle did not voice her interest. Typically she was very outspoken about this kind of thing, but this time... this time, she held back. Nessa was funny... smart... more worldly, probably... but maybe she wasn't looking for someone else? Maybe she just needed someone to help her find herself... or something...
Whatever the case, the gargoyle was being abnormally practical.
And then, Nessa invited her to sushi. Bold move, inviting a Californian to sushi on the east coast. It was like offering them an avocado. Just not the same on this side of the states. But Gina accepted, if for no other reason than to spend time with Nessa. The sushi might be good, too. The gargoyle arrived early-ish, artlessly unfolding herself out of the Uber that'd brought her. On the bright side of things, she didn't wear shoes, so getting out of a car in heels was slightly easier. The dress, however, posed a challenge. How did celebrities manage that?
Gina wore a little pink number with black earrings and bracelet, a slim back belt at the waist, a black clutch, and a black shrug. She hoped it wasn't too much... but it felt like a date. And if it wasn't? Well, it was better to be over-dressed than under-dressed. The gargoyle saw herself in... and apparently, the hostess had been expecting her. Nessa was already there-- right this way.
Obediently, the gargoyle followed, taloned fingers wrapping around the slender strap of her clutch. Her eyes swept over tables filled with unfamiliar faces, all a blur, not what she was here for. Most of them were absorbed in their food, though some couldn't help but steal a sidelong glance as she past-- there. Nessa was nursing a water, seeming lost in thought.
The gargoyle's face brightened when the familiar brunette looked over, waving excitedly. Finally, a friendly face. It felt like coming home.
"Heeeey!" the gargoyle greeted, maybe slightly-too-loud, "This is a swanky place. Glad I didn't wear my torn jeans and painting-shirt."
She gave Nessa a winsome grin, opening her arms for a hug. The gargoyle also offered a kiss upon Nessa's cheek-- Gina would attest that the brunette had very kissable cheeks.
Posted by Gina Schuyler on Oct 21, 2017 20:54:59 GMT -6
Omega Mutant
palevioletred
pansexual
taken - by nessa
1,265
196
Apr 25, 2024 23:12:30 GMT -6
Sophy
The gargoyle wasn't very shy about her sketchbook-- at least, not about her school sketchbook. Her personal one was still squirreled away in her bag, and typically not for polite company to see.
"Mm, this is a sketchbook for a class," the gargoyle murmured, cracking it open. Only about the first twenty pages had been used, so it was relatively untouched. It contained, as Momo had predicted, lots of practical sketches and concepts for different outfits/articles of clothing, "Kinda boring, tbh."
She fanned the pages, pausing at a few of the better ones to show her companion the proof of such. Literally... all... technical sketches...
"I hear all it takes is practice-" the gargoyle mused, "Practice, practice, practice- if you wanna get good."
Though the gargoyle had more drawing skill than someone who "couldn't draw", she didn't lump herself in the category someone who "could". It was the artist's eternal dilemma-- there was always someone out there who was "better" than you.
Posted by Gina Schuyler on Oct 21, 2017 20:44:38 GMT -6
Kalos likes this
Omega Mutant
palevioletred
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taken - by nessa
1,265
196
Apr 25, 2024 23:12:30 GMT -6
Sophy
So it was Kalos who was speaking to her-- of course it was. Gina didn't exactly know the voice, so the only explanations were that it was either the shifter kid, or it was Kalos. The gargoyle smirked at the small voice's grandiose introduction.
"Oh! My liege~" the gargoyle answered back, bowing her head. She would have bowed more theatrically, but she didn't want to run the risk of dropping the sewing machine. The gargoyle glanced around, continuing to search for "Queen" Kalos.
>> "I have a message from my hero-sister-brother for you, Gina Gorgon."
The voice sounded like it was coming from the living room, maybe? And, upon closer inspection, the gargoyle noticed a bastion of couch cushions and pillows alike. She would assume that this had been the Queen's castle of choice. The gargoyle approached, head bent supplicatingly but a smile upon her lips.
"My liege, are you... in your chambers?" the gargoyle asked, setting the sewing machine case as she stooped to peek through the crevice of the cushion-fort.
Stephanie was on the move, the spiraling lights from above giving her enough "oomph" to drop into her shadow form. She wasn't totally vulnerable, in that form-- maybe even "safe", though it would very generous to use that term in the situation. Khalil vaulted off the ground, taking his chances in the air rather than surrendering to the terrors on the ground. He still needed to "protect" Stephanie, but since she was on the move, he wasn't going to wait for things to comme at him.
The sleeves were dropped as he flew hastily into the park, towards the throes of the conflict, following the Scot, the cowboy, and the dearest shadowy denizen, who was now lost in the fog. Kids were gathering around the playground, and some b***h was yelling at the Scot from the top of the playground. She was probably to blame. Khalil was a good ten yards out from them when the worm was summoned, and he swerved to avoid it.
His fear-addled brain could scarcely process what he saw. Mouths, mouths, so many mouths, all purple-- rolling, roiling, stinking horribly. A sob rose within him, as did the urge to flee, but he grit his teeth, a pathetic noise escaping him. He wanted to run. But not without Stephanie. Not without Malia. He was responsible for them. But he also... goddamnit... he also cared. Khalil lingered in the air, beating his wings so as to remain stationary and slightly distant from the nightmare below. He was behind the lady and the... mouth-worm-thing... facing the children, as well.
The lady would be an impossible target from a distance, and getting close to her meant getting close to the worm. Out of the question. He had to go for the worm or--
The worm lunged at something unseen, a spray of woodchips exploding as it lunged. Wood chips. Khalil watched as the small bits of bark sprayed towards the mass of children. The playground... was covered... with wood chips.
"Heh."
A manic smile touched the frenzied demon's features. Even if the mist had dampened the woodchips, or made them too damp to ignite, could still produce smoke. And even awful, otherworldly b***hes needed to breath... right? The idea was too crazy, but... if it worked... what else was there to lose?
Flames engulfed the demon's hands, swirling until they formed perfect, softball-sized orbs of fire. Khalil dove towards the playground, towards the worm, flying in the face of all reason. If he couldn't send them up in flames, he'd smoke them the f**k out.
"One-" the first fireball was lobbed at the worm, towards one of its many snarling mouths, "-two-" towards the woodchips beneath the playground. The worm shrieked, enraged, as the fireball met its mark, the "head" (if it could be called that) snapping in his direction. The demon banked left, with a frenzied flap of his wings, already crafting another pair of fireballs in each of his palms, "-three-" again at the worm, to hold its attention, "-four-" again, at the wood chips, bank right. He purposefully avoided the blonde schoolgirl from Hell for, if he missed her or if she dodged, the fire would go towards the kids.
"Hey you f***ing earthworm!" Khalil yelled artlessly, "Want some more? Daddy's got some nice, spicy treats for you."
He held up a fifth fireball enticingly, smirking through the heart palpitations and the beading sweat upon his forehead, through the tears that were threatening to spill. This was crazy. He was going to die fighting a high-schooler and a mouth-warm. He was going to die a criminal.
"What about you, b****?" Khalil yelled at the blond, his voice cracking, "I'm no god, but as a demon, I can show you a Hell of a time! We could start with melting half your face off, it'd really seal that apocalyptic vibe you've got going on!" You couldn't really... scar children if they were entranced, right? Yeah, that sounded about right!
"Hey, you! I'm talking to you! Whaddya say!?"
It was crazy, this was all crazy, but people did crazy things when they were terrified witless. That's why it was called witless. Apparently when Khalil was terrified, he reverted to antagonizing the things that posed the greatest threat to him.
