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.
“Oh, don’t bother. Shannon’s face will be hilarious when she hears.” Allison should, maybe, be more concerned, but it was extremely unlikely that they’d lose any business to uptight moralistic people that they wouldn’t regain in teenage girls who heard about a naked boy in their favorite section. Who, admittedly, wouldn’t be buying many books, but would buy plenty of coffee and ice cream and sandwiches.
Allison tilted her head slightly, trying to decide if she’d be able to help the no-longer-naked boy by herself. Support yes, carry no, most likely, she decided. She raised her voice just enough to call Mark back over before returning her attention to Krisz. “No problem. I don’t know of anyone who would lie about them.”
“Personally, I’m more worried about certain idiot employees scaring you. The customers will just be back tomorrow, and confuse Shannon when they try to tease her asking if you’ll appear again.” Allison directed a final glare at the--this time, oblivious--new kid before turning and moving back to Krisz, collecting the remaining books and stacking them. She’d put them back on the shelves some time later.
“So, seeing as most people do not consider the floor to be the most comfortable place to sit, want a chair or a table?” Personally, if she was tired Allison would’ve picked one of the giant reading chairs; the tables weren’t all perfectly balanced, and the giant chairs were more comfortable than the chairs at the tables anyway. Though, she’d probably fall asleep in the reading chairs, too, which she generally tried to avoid.
Allison laughed as she stood. “Yes, very dangerous. I’ve heard it can even start making people like glitter. And sometimes disco balls.” She turned and went to the end of the aisle, blocking it as much as she could and aiming a death glare at the new kid, who was still sneaking “secret” looks in the naked boy’s direction. The girl visibly jumped and went back to helping Mark, who had a tray--since when did the store have trays? Allison wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know where that had come from--with coffee, a sandwich, and some kind of cake sitting on it, waiting at the end of a counter while he attempted to get a customer’s coffee and teach the new kid how to make it at the same time.
Allison shrugged. “As often as anywhere else, I suppose. You can’t always tell. Although, neither of those happened here. One I was running, and the other I was at Office Max.”
“Krisz.” Allison almost got the pronunciation right. “Hopefully that’s good enough, I doubt I’d be able to do better. Never could manage anything to do with other languages well.” She held her hand out to shake his. “Allison,” she filled in, then, figuring that between the name and the accent English was probably not his first language so he was less likely to pick up the possible puns in it, added “Sinnocent, but I don’t use it much. Allison or Alli is fine. And it’s been... an interesting meeting, so far.”
Allison rolled her eyes. “I’m beginning to think I should. I’ve been attacked by paper, seen someone turn into a dinosaur... you’re really the least weird thing that’s happened recently.”
“Not that I know of,” Allison repeated. “Mark’s not a mutant, doubt the new kid is, someone else here could be though.”
She leaned her head back to see the new kid hovering at the end of the aisle, and Mark off almost out of sight behind the sandwich case. She rolled her eyes as she turned and stood up, walking toward the girl whose eyes were once again attempting to get past the books that the naked boy had claimed for his protection. If those books could protect, anyway. She took the clothes (without even being too obviously annoyed), turned the girl around again and gave her another light push away. “Go back and help Mark.” She moved back over to the naked boy and held the clothes out. “By the way. D’you have a name?”
"I'm sorry for destroying your precious collection of tween trash."
Allison did not manage to stop the short laugh that that comment demanded. “They’re no more precious to me than to you. Possibly less, since I have to count how many are bought, and how many brats come in here looking for nothing else.” She shrugged. “Technically, cleaning’s part of my job. I think, anyway. We don’t normally anticipate this sort of thing.”
She raised an eyebrow at the naked boy’s guessed, and paused in her book collection to sit back on her heels. “Nope. Certainly not that I know of, anyway. I do ink.” Dinosaurs, her mind put in. She forced it back quickly. Shut up, brain. A memory’s a memory. And irrelevant, too. “Manipulate ink, I mean.”
Allison blinked, and barely managed to turn the laugh into a smirk. “This city is full of mutants, yes. Not ghost-mutants. I’m a mutant. I do not randomly appear naked in bookstores.” Mark coughed, and she smiled pleasantly while stepping on his foot. That got another, but this time choked off, cough. She turned around to look at him, making about half the turn before stepping off his foot. “Go help the new kid find something for him to wear. ...And get something. You want tea or coffee?” she asked over her shoulder. Mark would need the answer; she ignored it.
Mark coughed again, not bothering to hide his grin, if he had to begin with. “Aren’t I supposed to be your boss?”
“No.” Allison raised an eyebrow. “Shannon is both our boss.”
“But I’m older than you.”
“You were staring like an idiot. Now go be a good boy and do what I told you.” She turned away from him, crouched down, and began quickly collecting the books that had fallen, and weren’t immediately on or next to the naked boy, checking for bent covers and cracked spines as she went.
Allison blinked at the boy’s rambling, blinked again, and then tuned it out after the first few sentences to wait until she got a chance to talk. Which, conveniently, was about the same point that Mark and the new kid walked up, too, both with bewildered (and in the girl’s case, increasingly distracted) expression. “The naked boy, is a naked boy that appeared out of nowhere in a bookstore with only one public entrance, which I was watching. There’s something just slightly strange about this,” she directed at the naked boy, then turned to Mark. “You. Know anything?” Mark shook his head.
She glanced at the new kid, who was still being increasingly distracted by the naked boy. I must never have been a teenage girl. Or teenage anything, really. “You obviously don’t.” She grabbed the girl’s shoulder, spun her around, and--much more lightly than she wanted to--pushed her back toward the back of the store. “Go get something for the naked boy to wear.”
She turned back to the naked boy on the floor. “Okay then, naked boy who can talk. So, why are you naked, and on the floor, and most importantly, why here?”
A lack of Allison-caused catastrophe, apparently, was still not the same thing as a lack of any catastrophe. Upon hearing the crash Allison glanced up, raised an eyebrow, and lazily stood up to wander over toward it. That kind of crash was a spectacular bit of idiocy even for a new kid, whatever it was that had caused it, and while she wouldn’t say anything, she would gladly stand there giving the mess and kid an I-can’t-believe-you look. Humiliation was a far more effective punishment than most people guessed. She’d have felt bad about using it, if she’d been in a slightly better mood, but seeing as she wasn’t....
Allison was about halfway to the source of the crash when the request for help drifted over, in a voice that was quite clearly not either Mark or the kid. She blinked, sped up her walk to reach the area of the crash, stared in very definite bewilderment for an instant, then turned her head slightly to yell. “Mark, why is there a naked boy in a pile of books in the bra--tween section? If this is some kind of Hollywood-level screwed up marketing stunt, I’m going to strangle whoever came up with it.”
The sidewalk was a bit less kind to Allison’s feet than the grass and dirt of the park had been, and made it clear that while there may not be blisters on the bottoms of her feet, they were still rubbed raw. The street was even more painful, and probably would have involved a lot of flinching, hesitation and limping had she not been otherwise occupied with swearing and running after a puppy whose intelligence had just dropped quite a bit in her mind.
At least she didn’t have to wait to cross the street. And wasn’t really in the mood to care about the drivers that had been cut off or run into each others’ bumpers or whatever else.
The (menace!) puppy finally stopped in front of a set of gold doors, which might have looked impressive had she not seen similar things at the house of every businessman and politician and nonprofit organization that was trying to seem impressive, rich, and important. As it was, she mostly just noted that whoever this was had enough money to pay for it (or else a rich enough friend or patron to get it for them, which was close enough to the same thing for now), knocked, and when no one answered, tried the--it turned out, unlocked--door, reasoning that if this was where the puppy belonged, she was sort of justified in coming in to bring the puppy, and if not, she could blame it on the puppy misleading her.
Incidentally, she decided that her cynical side had gotten a bit too much of her mind, and did her best to firmly block it from claiming any more as she pushed the door open.
Allison tilted her head and smiled as the boy started putting his guitar away. “I think you do, but whatever. How often do you play?”
Allison laughed. “Normally at this point I’d ask if you want to be famous, but I think that’s already fairly well established. How much do you want it?”
Allison blinked as the puppy apparently gained far too much energy to be contained, and darted out from under her and around the mud patch. Note to self, be careful what questions you ask hyperactive puppies. Particularly when they can understand you.
After a bit of quite confusing movement the puppy ran a bit away and barked, and Allison raised an eyebrow. “Follow you again, huh? Looking for a bigger mud patch?” Two more barks. “Alright then, I’m coming.”
Allison took a second to pull of her shoes and pick up the stick, carrying the (indeed, slightly bloody on the inside) shoes in one hand and the stick in the other, and wandered down the path after the puppy. The blisters were, fortunately, placed on the tops and sides of her feet, so she could walk without too much pain, and could certainly avoid limping at all.
“No, I don’t. You’re certainly acting like you would.” Allison didn’t look away from the table as she took the last few steps to it and stopped, letting her eyes wander quickly over everything in sight before settling on the man behind the table and smiling.
He greeted her and held his hand out. Allison nodded, grinning, and started to reach for his hand before realizing she was using her right hand to hold Andrew. “Erm... just a second.” She spun around, getting her left hand close enough to reach for the ink with it instead, spun back and reached out to shake Garrett’s hand. She knew she technically didn’t need to be physically reaching for the ink at all, but it helped her concentrate, and if she was going to talk and hold onto Andrew at the same time, she’d need the help. “And yes, if that didn’t answer you, I am. ...Too,” she added, considering Andrew’s much faster response.
She very deliberately did not answer about her day; dragging Andrew out had seemed like a good distraction from a quite annoying argument and... well, it was an effective distraction, but not quite as fun as the last time she’d seen him. “How are you? What is this?” She tilted her head to indicate the table and banner.
Allison was, fortunately, watching as the puppy wrote, so she could figure out what he intended to write, instead of the odd internet or chemistry symbol it appeared to be. Twenty one. And acting like... that. “So, the form you’re in affects how you think, huh?” She reached down and scratched around the puppy’s ears again, figuring it was safe enough. If he was puppy enough to bounce around and carry sticks, he was probably puppy enough to enjoy being petted. “So then, where do you live?”
...Okay. Allison had been surprised at the puppy simply carrying the stick instead of chewing it, but that, that went well past smart puppy. It was somewhere around smart five year old, probably, but five year olds--regardless of intelligence--did not have paws, or choose to write when they could speak. Allison looked from the mud to the puppy to the mud and back to the puppy. “...Mutant, huh? Hello. How old are you?”
