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.
“I suppose you’ll get to be surprised, then.” Allison’s humor was fading very quickly, but not so much that she couldn’t keep the appearance of it. “And seriously, skin splatters? They’re called tattoos, have you never heard the term before? And good, I’d much rather be tacky than be attracting the attention of... well, anyone who thinks at all like you, among other things.”
“Well, yes.” Allison put as much of a matter of fact tone into the statement as she could. “That’s what the race was for, you know, or did you forget? Too busy making excuses for why you didn’t win to remember why you wanted to?”
“Yes it is. Love and war together are life, life is everything, so all’s fair.” Allison was fully aware that her argument was less than sound, but didn’t really care. There weren’t any cliches that directly claimed that all’s fair all the time, so this was close enough. “Cheating’s a pointless accusation. It’s just having an advantage that someone else doesn’t. There’s always going to be some kind of advantage that isn’t even, if there wasn’t no one would ever win anything. Differentiating between innate and arranged advantages is pointless; if you keep following that thinking you only end up at the conclusion that practice and training is cheating too. I’ve yet to see the Olympics kick anyone out for training too much.”
Allison paused at the ego accusation, then turned to grin at him, a bit more deliberately than she had been. Assuming much. If you had half a clue where my ego is....“You were at a disadvantage because I had a head start, I was at a disadvantage because I was tired. You wanted fair, didn’t you? My ego can return to Earth when you quit taking a race, for ice cream, so seriously. I have to have some defense against pissy boys criticizing me because they can’t take losing.”
Allison paused, turning fully to look at the boy again. Oh, random ideas. You are a horrid influence. Horrible influences or not, she darted over and latched onto the boy’s arm, leaning into his side and grinning up at him, channeling as much memory of her more... sociable--boy-obsessed--and girly--artificial for the sake of attention--classmates as she could while still so tempted to laugh hysterically. Which wasn't a lot, really. "So. You going to buy me ice cream or not?"
Allison grinned more as the boy reached her and immediately started complaining, and then began laughing as he continued. The expression was just so amusing. She paid more attention to the boy’s tone than his words as he complained, and waited until she’d gotten the laughter back down to a grin. He was annoyingly tall, forcing her to look up at him, but it wasn’t enough to suppress any of her amusement. “All’s fair in love and war, kid, it’s not my fault you have a slow reaction time. There were plenty of people in between the fountain and here, any of them could’ve taken off and had a head start on me. Besides,” she turned to go into the store, tossing her head so her hair flicked at him like a dismissive, if fluffy, cat’s tail, “don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t have taken a head start if you had it. You aren’t complaining about me running miles right before I raced, now, are you? You had more energy than me and you still lost.”
There were certain advantages to running in the city. Shin splints, Allison had long since determined, were on the list of disadvantages, and a very common point for her country-running friends to gloat about. The environment, on the other hand, was something she could work with.
Allison jumped over a fallen trash can a block before the ice cream store, grinning at the adrenaline. So much more fun than just running with nothing to do but take steps. She considered turning to check behind her for anyone who might be close, but she had enough energy to sprint anyway, so.... Allison jumped over a crack in the sidewalk and took off, sprinting as fast as she could, dodging around the occasional person who either moved out of her way, swore at her, or ignored her entirely. She was pretty sure she even heard one person cheering for her, or maybe someone chasing her. Whatever.
Reaching the Dairy Queen required dodging around a family who were just leaving the doors, and who definitely did swear at her as they moved away. She laughed anyway, leaning against the wall and turned to look for anyone behind her. She found one boy--aw, no one else wanted ice cream?--who was running close behind her, and grinned, raising her hand to point at him. Ha, I see you! You don't get to pretend you didn't try to beat me.
“Canyon?” Allison climbed the last few shelves so her arms could rest on the top one and turned, looking around. “Ohhh, there are lots of canyons! We have a maze of canyons.” She thought, anyway. She was pretty sure canyons weren’t supposed to be in stores... or metallic... or above ground. Still, though, Maxine said they were canyons, so they’re canyons. It’s like evil, add more stuff to the word and just change the definition.
Allison frowned, surveying the newly-discovered paper whirls. “But they look pretty. Why kill them? The amoeba is the evil one. It allied with the kraken but the kraken isn't evil so far.” She pulled herself up to sit on the top shelf, still holding onto it with both hands in order to keep from falling off, but relatively comfortable.
Allison blinked for a moment, watching as Maxine began climbing up the shelves, which were still swaying. Not too much for her to hang onto, though; it wasn’t much different from climbing trees when it was particularly windy. Easier, really, since the shelves were predictable; more like a ladder that happened to be missing every other rung.
Allison squeaked and froze, clinging as tightly to the shelf as something touched her shoulder, and turned her head--there is probably something wrong when I can actually feel my eyes getting wider--to see the paperclip kraken attempting to climb onto her. She blinked for a second, wondering why it would want onto her, which proved to be long enough for the kraken to fully climb on and settle mostly on her shoulder, with tentacles trailing slightly down both the front and back of her shoulder, over her neck and mixed into her hair.
...Oh. I guess I’m possessed now. Allison stopped to consider that for a moment, then shrugged and nodded to herself, the kraken’s paperclip tentacles pulling at her hair. Well, it didn’t make Maxine do anything too bad, nothing worse than making stuff sway. Which it’s still doing. Through me now. So being possessed means I get earthquake powers....
Allison could never quite make up her mind about parks. On the one hand, they meant an opportunity to run on grass, gravel, mulch, or something else that was not asphalt or cement, and so was far less likely to injure her.
On the other hand, she was currently being stared at by what at least felt like half the city as she ran past, attempting to keep them from staring by refraining from staring herself. Also called staring at the ground, and thirdly called not likely to work. Which was not entirely the fault of the staring, as she’d spent what felt like three hours adding varying shades of red, orange and yellow ink to her skin, in a pattern that didn’t quite resemble fire as much as she would have liked it to. The running tank top and shorts were not doing anything to hide the ink at all. I cannot imagine what I was thinking when I decided I wanted to be noticed today. More than I normally am. She glanced around out of the corner of her eye, keeping her head down, then tossed her head up so her hair went flying. Whatever. Too late not to be.
The sight of a fountain with a wide, two-foot-high wall around it, made her grin. Oh, I should stop listening to random thoughts. As if. A few more steps brought her to the wall and she jumped up on it, paused for a second to make sure she was balanced, then stood and turned to look over the people nearby. They were not, in fact, all watching her, though anyone who had been before certainly was keeping their eyes on her after her jump.
Allison grinned, took as large a breath as she could without getting dizzy, pointed East and shouted. “There’s a Dairy Queen six blocks that way! I’ll buy ice cream for anyone who beats me there! Just don’t do something stupid and get yourself killed!”
She pushed off the wall without waiting to see if anyone reacted, and started running in the direction of the ice cream store, much faster than she had been going, if not quite at a sprint yet. That would be reserved for the last block, if anyone was close to her.
Allison shrugged, then came as close as was humanly--well, non-animal-related-mutantly--possible to purring as Maxine patted her hair. I’m not silly.... Cuddling is good. Friendly stuff is good, making lots of people like you. And underestimate you. Useful. So snuggling is good. And you started it anyway, so snuggling is even better.
Allison pouted, attempting to look tragic when the woman started talking about moving, but then suddenly found herself laying on the floor by herself, her cuddle toy of the previous second standing up and saying something about up. She sighed, resigning herself to moving, and grabbed the shelves to pull herself to her feet, then back onto the lowest shelf to get out of the water. She briefly considered simply climbing into the lowest shelf and laying back down there, but it would have taken too much movement, so she simply stood on the shelf, keeping a hold of the higher shelves to stay balanced on the lowest one. They’d mostly stopped swaying, too, which was quite nice, even if her head was still pulsing.
Allison’s headache flared again, but oddly she didn’t feel the sharp crack of her skull hitting the floor this time. It took a moment for her to realize that that was because it was Maxine’s skull that had hit the floor this time, and not hers. She blinked up at the ceiling for a moment before the---really quite soft--floor below her started to move up. She tilted her head back, wondering what was happening this time, and blinked again as she noticed that there was a Maxine sitting up under her, rather than a moving floor. I wonder how she got there. And why she sat up, sitting up is bad. Laying down is good, my head hurt less that way.
“So, does your hair really do... fire? Because... water. We might need some.”
Allison blinked at the woman for a moment, thinking, before nodding. “Uhhuh. If the sun’s behind it. Yours should too.” She turned on her side, wrapping her arms around the other woman and clinging, stopping herself slightly short of nuzzling the woman’s shoulder and attempting to lay back down again. “But don’t bother. Staying still’s good. Doesn’t hurt.” She closed her eyes, clinging slightly tighter to the woman, and wondering if falling asleep would be possible yet.
The giraffe from next to Allison trotted up to the formerly dead one, and grabbed the kid out of its mouth before turning and setting him on the floor. The kid disappeared back into the mass of other kids as quickly as he could possibly move, and the giraffe from beside Allison stood in the way as the formerly dead giraffe started toward the main group of people. Allison edged further toward the side, for once grateful for her size as she wove or pushed through people who were otherwise frozen in place or trapped by the people who were.
Allison finally made it to the edge of the crowd, sliding along the wall to put her back against it, the pair of giraffes in front of her, and the people to her right, and relaxed slightly. So she was still very far from safe, probably, but at least she could see people before they got to her this way, and move if she decided to. She tilted her head back, trying to look up at the giraffes, despite being unlikely to be able to read a giraffe’s expression like she could a human’s.
More water. Allison really hadn’t been paying enough attention to what Maxine said--she’d been too focused on hanging onto the definitely swaying shelves--to hear any more, but she’d heard that much. We need... a storm, or something. Indoors. She paused to hold onto the shelves as they swayed more than usual, unintentionally looking down and noticing the packs of paper that had been immobilized by thorough waterlogging. Take that. We need something that can summon storms. I’ve never heard of anything that can do that, except maybe... dragons? And thunderbirds. Either of those could just scare the amoeba away. She blinked, looking again at the waterlogged paper packs, this time deliberately. Huh. Wonder if they can be afraid if they see their other-pieces’ death. They’re alive enough to move, so....
She gave a sadistic grin, hopped off the shelf, holding on for a moment with one hand to adjust to the floor’s swaying, then bent over, grabbed the nearest waterlogged mini-amoeba, and threw it as hard as she could at one of the half-sized amoebas at the end of the aisle. “Here, amoeba! Be afraid!”
Throwing as hard as she could, unfortunately, was a bit harder than Allison had thought, having forgotten about the water’s weight. Combined with the floor’s swaying and a sudden flare in her headache, Allison very quickly began falling; she managed to catch the edge of a shelf, but let go as the edge dug into her fingers, and only managed to send herself falling diagonally at the shelves instead of parallel to them.
“You. Are my new best friend. Maxine Ralls. And you are?”
Allison blinked most of the white out of her eyes--there was still a bit of white in the center, and black around the edges--and found a hand in the air above her. “Allison.” She shook her head, determined that that did not help with the white or the black at all but did give her a headache, and pushed herself up to shake the woman’s hand. She cast a skeptical glance at the kraken that was clambering up Maxine’s leg, but decided to let it go since the woman didn’t seem to mind. She knew what to do with the paper, anyway.
“Do you have a match? We’re going to set off the sprinkler system.”
“Match? Uhm, no.” Allison’s brain might have been running just a bit slowly. Either the room was swaying, or she was. Probably the room, she felt like she was staying still. And it was only slightly swaying, the amoeba was probably responsible. Unless the kraken was a brain controlling paperclip kraken, and was controlling the woman to make her think it was okay. “You could maybe try using my hair, but you might want to leave reality first.” Come to think of it, water got rid of the amoeba, so fire would probably help it. Or help the kraken. It is a kraken after all. “I shouldn’t have said that. Never mind, my hair wouldn’t be useful. What about more water?” She kicked at the floor, splashing a few drops in the general direction (and maybe a third of the distance) of some of the amoeba, and having to grab onto the shelf next to her as she started to slip again. It’s official. The amoeba is controlling the water. Water is an enemy now. She grabbed onto the shelf, pulling herself up so she was standing on the lowest shelf, and trying to kick the water off her feet.
“Mutants are not hybrids, oh smart one,” Allison answered before thinking that maybe the boy would be able to deal with his classmate better. Oops. Oh well. Can’t be too bad. The boy said nothing to contradict the thought... well, he said nothing at all, really, which tended to not be good, but Allison was just going to pretend there was a different reason for that.
The next few seconds were not entirely coherent to Allison. First, the stuffed giraffe behind the boy’s classmate started moving, leaning down and picking the boy up by his shirt, while the kid screamed, and carrying him off. Allison, the boy, and virtually everyone else, followed the--wasn’t that thing just dead?--giraffe through the museum, and then there was another giraffe, next to her, and people--Allison among them--swearing and scrambling out of the way of the suddenly appearing giant hooves and legs.
Allison yelped, skipped back from the metal thing, tripped over a fallen shelf, rolled and was back on her feet, and took a moment out of staring at the--metal... tentacle... squid... ball... thing...--that was emerging from the paper mass to wonder why she could never accomplish such things if she thought about them. Also, why the paper amoeba has given birth to a paperclip kraken.
...And a person. Allison blinked, looking up to meet the eyes of a redheaded, freckled woman--you look more like me than my family does...--who gasped, swore, and said something about water that was immediately cut off by a mini, rectangular paper amoeba pouncing and forcing both the woman and the mini amoeba back into the main amoeba.
This... is one of my more bizarre ink hunts, recently. I think I’ll stick with crafts stores for a while. Water... will what? I swear, if it makes the thing grow, or mutate back into a zombie tree, or something like that.... Allison took a few more steps away from the amoeba before cautiously turning, glancing around to find an employee. One was, fortunately, nearby; watching the amoeba with... well, no more confusion or uselessness than Allison had just been demonstrating herself, but she gave him an annoyed glare anyway. “Well? Did you hear?” He didn’t react in the slightest, and Allison stalked over, placing herself immediately in front of him and glaring at the equally bewildered look she received. “Water. Do you have water?” She didn’t bother to let him answer despite him opening his mouth to do so. “Cleaning buckets, sink, or hose if you have it. Where are they?”
It took maybe five minutes for both ten-gallon buckets to fill from the sink, and another minute or so for Allison to drag them back to the amoeba, abandoning the employee as soon as she deemed him useless. She paused for a moment well outside of where she guessed the amoeba or kraken could reach, then sighed. There just wasn’t any way to get the water to the amoeba without getting herself close as well.
So, she pushed the first bucket over, spilling its contents in the general direction of the amoeba, then put both hands on the edge of the other, and pushed it as quickly as she could move until she reached the amoeba’s side, tipped the bucket over toward it, jumped back, slipped on the forgotten wet floor, fell over backwards and cracked her head on the tile hard enough to white out her vision for a moment as she lay in her just-created puddle, blinking and deciding to just blame the amoeba.
Allison hummed to herself as she wandered around the office store, resisting the urge to just sneak a bit of ink out of the many, many ink pen refills she passed and searching for larger ink jars. Absolutely no one would know... not the people who used them, not the people who sell them, it wouldn’t hurt anyone, victimless crime, which makes it arguably not a crime at all.... She sighed. But, if I start, I’ll continue, and who knows what I’d end up with. Forging would be simple, just edit a few numbers... damn it, no! She forced her mind stubbornly away from potential less-than-pure uses of her abilities and back toward finding larger jars of ink. Not that anyone who’s concerned with absolute purity would consider tattoos pure anyway. ...What do I even have today, anyway? The thought made Allison pause, and she headed back toward the desks and chairs section of the store, hoping to find a mirror.
A few minutes and confirmation of her appearance later--swirls in varying shades of green, built up over the previous few days and none added today, which would be why she’d forgotten--and Allison continued her hunt through the store. It would be so much easier if I could find ink somehow. Sense it or whatever.
Allison’s thoughts were effectively cut short as she passed an aisle and saw what appeared to be some kind of paper-pack amoeba, sitting on the floor... writhing, or rolling, or something. Allison blinked at the paper thing for a moment, trying to decide if it was safe to approach--mysterious unexplained mass of apparently living non-living objects. Probably not--and then immediately approached anyway, pausing a moment before poking it with her toe.
