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.
Allison wasn’t used to being asked to forge things; it had happened occasionally, but not very often. And she was a little wary, based on the form the last ‘request’ had come in, but this seemed… fairly reliable, considering the source. Well, the direct source, anyway; it was probably possible to fool the Abyssi, but certainly not a wise thing to do. So that gave her some confidence in heading out to the bar she was supposed to go to.
That particular meeting place was a bit amusing to her; she didn’t really have much opinion on bars either way, they were just kind of there most of the time. But it was fortunate the request had come now, and not in a few months. Allison had gained some weight, which the Dusk PR people had had a fit about and she’d had to yell at them several times for--honestly, she was still thinner than the vast majority of women, even if they didn’t know why she’d gained weight--and which was mildly annoying in itself, mostly due to the battle that clothing was starting to become. It wasn’t too bad yet, but it was only going to get worse. Regardless, she didn’t look pregnant yet, so no one would look too oddly at her walking into a bar.
Though, once she actually got to the bar, that looked like… slightly less of a concern. The few… customers… that were there didn’t really seem to be… very aware. Well, that would make things easier. Allison ignored them as she made her way over to the bar, sat down, and smiled at the bartender. “Hello, are you Melissa? A friend suggested I should come here.”
"Trying!" Allison seemed to have more practice at talking while running than he did. She wasn't actually better at the running part, but the tangentially related pieces--talking, jumping over things, looking like she wasn't tired no matter what--she seemed to be better at, so she was keeping up. Mostly.
"Sociopath with no morals. There's a shock!" Perhaps less so for Allison than for him, she was the psychologist after all. But then again, it wasn't like most people were under the impression that sociopaths were nice, compassionate, honor-bound people either. Well, maybe some could be honor-bound, if they were found early enough... but compassionate was out. That was the definition, really. The crates were easy to jump over, apart from the stitch in her side, but she was fairly used to ignoring those.
Allison could have made it over the fence, actually, but getting a boost was faster than climbing, so the help was helpful anyway. More so since she was wearing one of those tight, 'fashionable' skirts and (short, but nonetheless) high heels. Neither were good for climbing. Not that it was likely to make much difference, since the alley was closed in by buildings on either side, but....
Actually. Buildings. Abandoned buildings. Allison really should have thought of that before. While Cafas climbed the fence she found a door a bit farther down and kicked it open.
Yep. Abandoned. Dusty, too, and filled with patches of sunlight that the dust was busy filling, but that was alright. She ducked inside and ran for the set of stairs across the room. "Over here, CJ!"
And Isabel did catch the braver one. Or scared one, or angry one; whatever it was, he was now the upside down one. Alli didn't have to touch him, which was just fine with her. She went back to blinding the first man's second eye, and he went back to screaming as Isabel caged the rest. "Sounds good to me." Her answer might not have been heard over the screams, but it probably was.
With him blinded--and a bit more than blinded, Allison really hadn't needed to take that long, but she wanted to--Allison let go of his hair, stood up, and absorbed the ink back into her palm. He was begging again, and Allison took the time to kick him. "Shut up." He went back to whimpering. Allison supposed that was better.
As for improvising... how to best explain Allison's goal? "Have you ever met Megan? She lives across from Sanctuary, she can control spiders.. These guys," she kicked the blinded man's head again, "would have killed her if we didn't have healers. But when I met her, she was trying to get rid of some drug lords," which might be a bit or an overstatement, but oh well, "who turned out to also think they should be sex traders. So Megan called a bunch of spiders into their pants and had them bite." Allison was getting far too used to sweet, playful smiles in this sort of context. "Think we can improvise something like that?"
The blinded man started begging again. So did one of the caged ones. "Please, I'll pay you, anything--"
"Shut up." It was a shame Allison didn't have something to throw at them. She did make note of which it was, though.
Allison did not appreciate Isabel being shot. Granted, Isabel seemed to be fine (apart from the bleeding, but Allison assumed Isabel knew how badly she was hurt, and she didn't seem to be concerned), and Allison hadn't exactly been inclined to forgive the men anyway, but trying to shoot Isabel certainly didn't help. Nor did the fact that there wasn't much Allison could do against a gun.
Isabel could, fortunately, and Allison's glare faded back into a cutout smile as the guy fell and was dragged near her. She knelt down next to him and dug her fingers into his hair to hold him still. "Paralyzed, blind, or both?"
Blind would be Allison's preference too; for one thing, it was more painful to do. And a bit more reliable, though with the guy held still she could always just send the ink through a couple times to be sure, so that wasn't really an issue. She let him watch as she flicked her hand--Allison's mocking theatrics were a bit more subtle than Isabel's, but she had them--and the ink in her palm sprang up and collected.
"No--don't--"
"Too late." Allison didn't like his begging. It offended her; like any of them had a right to beg. She doubted they'd ever listened to any pleas from their victims; they certainly hadn't listened to her. They didn't have the right to beg anymore. Fortunately he screamed instead when the ink sank into his first eye. Allison didn't feel any need to hurry, though holding his head still was a bit more of a challenge than she'd expected.
"You Bitch!" One of the other men had jumped up, headed for Allison. Fortunately he was several steps away; she removed the ink from the eye of the man she'd been blinding. He kept whimpering, and she raised the ink; she could kill the guy before he could touch her, though she hoped Isabel would stop him first. She couldn't really stop without killing, and not getting to play wouldn't be much fun. The rest of the men were standing up, and one starting to creep toward Isabel; it seemed they were going to be fighting for a bit.
Huh. Allison was honestly expecting Isabel to break the door, but that worked too. Of course, she hadn't known Isabel could turn her finger into a key, so that made it a little more logical. And just about as fast, for that matter. Doors did tend to resist being broken down, for a little bit.
The quiet entrance meant they were both inside before anyone quite noticed they were there. Five men; Allison recognized one, and thought she recognized a second. They were scattered around; each had his own small table, with expensive drink and snacks, arranged in a circle. No empty tables, and no one currently outside the circle, so probably no one else was here. Allison smiled, closed the door and stood in front of it while Isabel headed toward the phone.
Most of the men had glanced over when the door opened, but it took a few seconds for them to comprehend what they saw and do a double take. One of the tables was knocked over as one man jumped up, and another stood, much more slowly. "You!"
Allison wasn't sure whether 'you' was her or Isabel. She kept smiling at the men while she called to Isabel. "If you keep them still for me, I can blind them for you. Or paralyze them." And, in implication, Allison did not want them dying quickly.
Actually--a twitch caught Allison's eye, or an arm that ended below a table, and she leapt over to knock the guy, his chair, and his table over. A cell phone skipped across the floor. Allison glanced around the remaining men, smile creeping back in place. No one else seemed to have one, or at least, to be trying to use it. "All of you just wanted a monster so badly, we couldn't help but oblige you. Are you happy now?"
Allison was. Apparently they had recognized Isabel. They looked terrified. Good.
"It's okay." Allison's smile felt kind of terrified, but genuine. "I'm glad you're back."
...It was really tempting to just go along with Aura. Or Aura's eyes, at least. Pretend everything was normal and not have to upset everyone. She couldn't--or she shouldn't, anyway--but it was really hard for Allison to convince herself of that again.
...She wasn't going to stop the kiss, though. That would have been more than she could handle herself, even if she didn't think it would hurt Aura. And getting to cuddle--or cling might be a bit more accurate, at the moment--was reassuring.
Allison didn't quite notice the box at first; only realized it was there when Aura stepped away and Allison had to open her eyes again. When she did she blinked, smiled at Aura, and opened it. She smiled more when she saw the necklace and earrings, and let herself focus on them. "They're beautiful." And, since she didn't have anywhere to set the box and therefore didn't have hands (and because she remembered their first date), Allison smiled at Aura. "Could you help me put them on?"
Allison made a face. "I probably couldn't get it open. If you could, please?" She hadn't quite thought about that part... granted, if these guys did recognize her after as long as it had been (and they had better, Allison would be even more pissed at the implications if they'd forgotten), being recognized might get her in. Of course, if Isabel was recognized, they'd probably just call the police and keep the door locked. So that still wasn't a good idea.
Probably a good possibility to remember, though. "I think there's a phone behind the bar. We'll want to keep them away from it."
Posted by Allison on May 21, 2013 20:58:20 GMT -6
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Jul 22, 2015 0:41:05 GMT -6
This gang wasn't like most. They had no symbol, no name. The police wanted, to some degree, the people who'd done what they did (bigoted or not, most people still had a line that said too far and wasn't to be crossed), but didn't want them. They were all upstanding men; college graduates, or students; mostly with good jobs and steady girlfriends or young wives, men who went to church and gave money to all the right charities. Not all to the same church, of course; they were good, open-minded men as well. They'd even accepted a Jewish member into their group. So, when tragedy struck a few months ago and the majority of the gang of friends was killed in a senseless mutant attack, no one looked too deeply. Sure, the group was known to be outspoken about their anti-mutant views, but they were good people. It was clear even without looking that they were just innocent, unlucky victims, not responsible in any way.
They were good at keeping that image. And at believing it, too. The five surviving members of the gang--not all of whom had been present on the night of the tragedy--were all gathered. The bar was cleaned; only the slightest of stains were left from old blood, the wood floor and walls were bright, polished and shining, the tables were clean, the drinks were expensive and mostly imported. And strong, of course, but these were good church men; they wouldn't get drunk for hours, certainly not right after the sun set.
Allison had been a bit concerned about her ability to find the place again, but it hadn't been hard. She'd had to peer in different directions at a couple of corners, but hadn't actually taken a wrong turn. And once she reached the alley... she remembered it. Quite well. The door, too; she didn't bother knocking. She could hear voices on the other side, talking, but not loud enough to understand.
Being here was... energetic. Adrenaline. Vibrating, tense, just that close to revenge and holding back for a few more seconds. That was easier to say than scared. She took a breath, turned to Isabel, and pointed at the door. "In there. There might only be a few of them; no way to tell if they're all here. But that's where they are. They probably won't open the door for us, knocking's probably pointless." Not unless whoever was on the other side of the door got a gun pointed at them first, anyway; that was a situation Allison would prefer to avoid. Isabel could resist bullets, if she remembered correctly; she couldn't.
Allison was not very good at dealing with problems. She could function while she had problems, but she couldn't deal with them.
Mostly, her approach was to pretend they weren't problems. Laugh, drop comments and jokes like the problem was as meaningful as the weather, smile while she chatted about it, brush it off like a mild irritation. Eventually, that was all it would be, or at least it would seem like it enough of the time to count. When that didn't work... she ignored them. Didn't say a word, pretended there was no problem, and denied it until she forgot about it. She hadn't yet found a problem she couldn't either lighten or deny.
Except... she had. Well, she could maybe sort of ignore it by herself; it wasn't the pregnancy that was the problem, it was where it came from. By herself Allison could just... not think about that part, mostly. Except when doctors asked who the father was, and she snarled at them. She hadn't known she could snarl like that, much less unintentionally.
But apart from that, the doctor had been convenient. Mostly with one particular concept. Most miscarriages occur in the first trimester of a pregnancy, and that's about a third of pregnancies. You might not want to mention this to anyone until after that point.
That had been a really nice order to have, for three months. It was a lot less nice after three months. Because now she did have to tell, and on her own she could just ignore the why, but Allison wasn't on her own. And there were essentially two options for why; willing or not, cheating or raped. She really, really didn't want to think about, much less say, the second, but she couldn't let Aura think the first.
So she had to figure out some way to talk about it. Next time she saw Aura, because if Allison didn't make that rule for herself, she would keep delaying and that would just cause more problems. She just... had no idea how to. She couldn't even make herself really think about it. How could she say anything?
She'd... figure something out. Allison sighed. She'd gotten back to her room even though she really wasn't looking around at all; one of the benefits of being familiar with Sanctuary. And she didn't have to think about opening the door.
"...Aura! Hi." That was surprise, mostly. Hopefully entirely. Surprise was odd, but not really a problem. "You're back?"
Damn that personal rule. Allison really couldn't break it; that would make all personal rules useless for months at least, along with that whole procrastination problem. She had to explain. She just... couldn't.
Posted by Allison on May 19, 2013 21:38:23 GMT -6
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Jul 22, 2015 0:41:05 GMT -6
The motorcycle ride was nice. It had been a while since Allison had been on one; she'd forgotten how nice it was. And she could see why Cafas hadn't bothered with helmets. The weaving between cars that she was pretty sure was illegal was... well, also fun, but again, pretty sure that was illegal. Then again, Allison hardly had room to talk about legal, as long as he didn't get caught. That, she would have some opinions on.
She managed to smile, mostly out of relief since Cafas's joke was terrible, but she did. "Sorry, I think it's part of the job. You could invite some of your friends next time, though." She did not bother to let go of Cafas yet. It wasn't her fault he was comfy. He was human; humans were comfy to cuddle.
Okay, that sounded more like a lead in to goodbyes. Allison let go and leaned back so she could look at Cafas for a moment before answering. "Are you sure you actually want to be involved?" He hadn't exactly reacted well just to knowing, and... if there was ever an occurrence like that again, she might not ask Isabel for help. Isabel was good at killing, but not that inclined to draw it out much. Allison rather liked the way she and Megan had taken care of the men they'd dealt with when they met. "If I need help, I'm not going to bother with X rules." And, often, she wouldn't even if she didn't need help. She was pretty sure Cafas had no idea that ink could be lethal, though; there was no need to clarify that, just in case he would go to the X's with the information. For now, anything she did could be blamed on a psychic or similar; if someone who cared actually had the information to put the pieces together, that could be a problem for Allison.
It was getting awkward to sit leaning back like that, so Allison climbed off the bike and stood next to it. With nothing to lean on, unfortunately, which made her more inclined to be able to go inside and collapse to process what had happened. "I'll see you at the next one?" Which wasn't that far away, really.
Allison didn't quite manage to figure out what had happened by the time they reached Cafas's motorcycle (undamaged, thankfully), so she glanced back enough to notice that what looked like half the convention's attendees had also filtered out, and formed another wall blocking the protesters off from the door and creating an open walk back to it. Good; Allison doubted that they would have attacked human girls anyway, but then, she hadn't expected them to throw things either. With half the convention glaring them down, they ought to leave the girls alone.
While Cafas got on the motorcycle (without a helmet, bad role model!) Allison gave each of the girls a hug and thank you, and whispered "it gets easier" to the one that had looked scared. And all but one was taller than her, already. Oh well; that was what heels were for. Regardless, she didn't need to know exactly what was going on to know they'd earned a thank you. And probably more, if she could think what that more could be and figure out a way to give it to them.
Leaving quickly was definitely a good idea, though; the protesters were backing down now, but that was hardly guaranteed to last. Besides, the sooner they left, the sooner their teenage girl bodyguards could get back inside before the protesters found a new target. So she climbed on behind Cafas. And did, indeed hold on; having someone to cling to while she sorted out her most recent bewildering memories was a relief. The cuddling was also nice (and excusable, it was a motorcycle after all, she had to hold on), though there was never really a time that Allison didn't like cuddling anyone she could justify latching onto.
Okay, that was a bit excessive, but not that bad. At least he had gotten around to it. And, really, Allison didn't need more reasons to tease Cafas; that was easy enough to do, and she had no particular desire to anyway. "You are now a millionaire... if entirely by accident."
"Uh huh...." Frankly, if Cafas was dating Caleb, Allison wasn't too confident in his ability to recognize anything to do with romance. Assuming that liking one guy and lots of girls made him gay didn't really improve her estimation, either. "If you say so."
Allison had to lean to the side (and into Cafas) to see, and frowned at the crowd. Then blinked, and turned to raise an eyebrow at Cafas's joke. "Very optimistic of you. I don't see a gun...." Not that she had last time, either, but at least now there were lots of (known) witnesses. That would deter most protesters from violence, anyway.
Apparently not all, though, or not completely. Allison was pretty sure throwing things still counted as violence. When the (third, or fourth...) thrown can cut her cheek about five steps through the crowd, it definitely counted. She'd been trying to keep a pleasant expression (there were still cameras, after all, and the protest seemed to have attracted a few more), but that seemed to justify not looking pleasant anymore. And if it didn't, too bad; she glared and spun toward the direction it came from. She didn't say anything, there wasn't anything that would convince them, but her glare could be pretty intimidating.
...Not that intimidating, though. Allison blinked as the protesters seemed to... not back down, but grow a bit more restrained. It took a moment to realize they were glancing between her and the door, and turn toward it.
That was... shocking, really. A group of five girls--probably fifteen, sixteen at most--were shoving through the crowd. Not one of them had any sign of a visible mutation, none had a visible tattoo or piercing outside of their ear lobes (and two didn't even have that). Four were glaring fiercely, though, and two of those swearing at the people they shoved away; the fifth looked terrified and stubborn until the entire group got to Allison and Cafas. The first one to reach them still looked furious while she looked at Cafas and Allison, and the other four circled around them. "Go ahead. They won't throw things at us."
Allison had no idea how to react to that. So she looked back at the door; there were more teens starting to push their way through the crowd, too.
"...He's how old? You're how old?" And speaking as if you just recently finished? Really, missing a year excused being a year late. Maybe two, if another was spent on traveling and settling in. Not that many.
Allison limited herself to silence. A rather disbelieving, you think? sort of silence, but silence nonetheless. Cafas seemed to have figured out at least a little that he'd screwed up with that, so more comments weren't really necessary. "You do know that hate is technically a form of caring too, right?"
It looked like it was going to be easier to get out... or possibly harder. The crowd was thinning, so it should be easier to get too the door, but there were a few people hovering by it glancing between it and (what was becoming increasingly obviously) Alli and Cafas. That... did not indicate an easy exist. Really, Alli was fairly small, and that had been played up in media a lot for the movie, but it ought to be common sense that Cafas could simply pick up and move any kids who tried to block his way if he wanted to. So could Alli with most of them, for that matter, but that wasn't as obvious (or easy), and it wasn't her they were likely to try to block. Well, one more adventure to smile though.
"What you are and what label what you are comes closest to aren't the same thing, though. Really, orientation is ridiculous, the complications just never end." Allison had given up attempting to find the end of it, anyway. Multiple times.
Well, technically, no, Allison didn't need a ride. The subway had managed to her her to the convention; it would manage to get her back. If it wasn't an issue, though... and they had told Myra they had plans. "Sure."
"What's he studying? And where?" So that Allison could make sure to never, ever go there. Not that she really planned to go back to college any time soon, but hey, she might. Her parents would have a fit if she didn't get a degree soon... they'd have a fit if they knew anything about even a second of her recent life. They'd probably lecture her even for being raped; you shouldn't have been there, been dressed like that, been friends with her, let them catch you; it's your fault, how dare you shame us!
Well. There was a reason she'd stopped talking to them. Not that reason, exactly, but a reason.
Allison waited and smiled while Cafas signed autographs, and stuck to his side, smiling extra hard at the more clingy-looking girls demanding autographs. And actually was asked to sign a few herself as well; about equally by girls and the (rare) boys present. She kind of admired them; it had to take a lot of courage to go to something so thoroughly derided in most of culture and that was derided specifically for being deemed girly. A somewhat silly use for courage, but at least they had it.
Allison once again had to pause to work through the many responses she could think of and pick one. "...And did this other guy have any opinion on the fact that he was being used to get someone else to date you?" Were you kind of an asshole, Cafas?
Allison... could get why having another identity crisis would be annoying. She hadn't appreciated them much either. That didn't mean she didn't think he was any less ridiculous for assuming that liking one guy and many women made him gay. It just didn't work that way; same-sex attraction was not a negative number. "Charts never work perfectly. Categories like gay and straight aren't any more real than good and evil." Which might help him, might give him another crisis to deal with, or might make him dismiss her entirely.
Definitely worth the ew. And the inevitable media storm that would follow. Those expressions were priceless. Allison was still working to tone her grin down to something a bit more romantic and less maniacally gleeful as Cafas pulled her away from the crowd and behind a wall.
"Caleb studies? Caleb's in school?" That... did not go very well with the mental image she had of him. Not that most people in college were very studious anymore now that it was the only way to get a job, but she hadn't gotten the impression that Caleb would bother with having a job, either. "Well if he does, I'll avenge you with sticks."
"Okay, if you're saying that the laws are the correct means and telling me not to ask what laws you break, there is a tiny bit of contradiction there." Not that Allison really had any objection to what the X men did, as long as they left her and her friends alone. She was pretty inclined to point out hypocrisy, though, and this sounded a lot like it. "Aura's not the only one with her brand of justice. And not everyone with it feels the need to know." And that was as close as Allison was going to come to saying out loud that she'd asked Isabel to help her kill people. Or that she'd killed people. Cafas was sounding less and less like an X man, but she still wasn't throwing those details out for him to use. Certainly not when they were still technically in public....
"I was under the impression that you're an X Man." Allison also smiled obligingly for the cameras, and cuddled against Cafas for them. Her smile might still have had mischief behind it, but the cameras wouldn't be able to tell. "And a mutant, bi, a guy, Australian, immune to bullets, a boyfriend, a fake boyfriend, kind of a flirt, an actor, aaaand that's about all I've got for the moment."
