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 hovered without any real idea what to do as the boy curled up, and a bit later his neck shrunk down to a normal size. Allison blinked, not entirely sure what had happened, for a moment before he stood up.
"Hey uhh... thanks for making sure I was ok. No one ever does."
“Ah... it was no problem.” Allison shifted a bit, brushing her hair back as she tried to think of something to say. No one ever checks to see if you're okay. How do I respond to that? She blinked as he started to turn away, dropping her hand and taking a small step so she wasn’t completely behind him. “You, ah, are okay, right? It took you a bit to get up....”
Allison was close to the end of the African Mammals exhibit, absently looking at a few last displays while wondering where to go next, when a group of teens and a few adults swarmed into the room. Huh. School trip in summer. Glad I never went on those. She ducked to the edge of the flow of people, trying to avoid being run over by the many teens, either focused solely on their conversations or, in a few cases, the displays, and not at all looking out for her.
A sudden change in the noise made Allison’s attention snap back to what was happening, as a boy near her fell, and people swore, laughed, got out of the way, and generally acted obnoxious. Allison jumped back a bit herself automatically, turning to face the boy who’d been to her side, before moving back over to him and blinking. That.... I do not think I’ve ever seen someone with legs that long, much less a neck. She blinked for a second before shaking her head and leaning down. “Are you alright?” She pushed her ink bag back behind her to keep it from falling and hitting the boy, or breaking the ink bottles on the floor.
“No, it’s no problem. Uh....” Allison glanced around, trying to figure out exactly where she was. She knew the total length of her various running routes, and a few points along them, but not much in between. She was fairly certain she was around four miles out, which she could maybe cut down to three and a half or three and a quarter if she took the shortest routes, but some of those were through very mutant-unfriendly areas, or just everyone-unfriendly areas, so if she avoided them, the walk would be at least three and a half miles, unless she was wrong about how far out it was.... “It is pretty far though, and I was running, so um, do you mind walking?” She shifted, not wanting to force the woman to walk so far but not coming up with any other options.
Allison turned, peering at the sun to guess how much light was left. An hour? Forty five minutes? Hour and fifteen? But I include dusk as light....
Museums were always great resources for Allison when she was feeling uncreative. She might get some weird looks for carrying a dozen bottles of ink in with her, but nothing bad, and there was just about infinite inspiration. Twenty minutes of wandering through gift shops and some sort of space-oriented display, and Allison disappeared into a bathroom to cover herself with thin black lines, slightly too thin and smooth to be zebra, and extremely thin, weblike blue lines; meant to be lightning but not quite random enough, and three black-blue-black rings around her eyes. Well, close enough. She surveyed herself in the mirror, twisting to see as much as she could, before nodding and wandering out the door. And now, to find something to do. Glancing around showed African mammals to the right, and Asian mammals straight ahead; if she remembered right, they connected through a few other rooms. Circles then. Circles are good.
Allison regretted being as small as she was as she dodged around people to get to the Asian Mammals entrance. People just seemed determined not to bother with anyone lower than their own eye level, which left quite a few either running into Allison, or just pushing her out of the way, making the ink bottles in her bag bump into each other, much louder than she'd really like them to. Once they did notice her, though, nearly everyone quickly backed off. I may have to do more dramatic patterns more often.
"I was t-trying to go home. Until a few very stupid humans decided to come and cause trouble."
Allison nodded, reaching up to tug the last few weaves out of her braid and return it to a ponytail. There really wasn’t much she could say to that. Except it’s about the most iconic image of prejudice I can think of, there aren’t many more ‘just going about my own business’ activities than going home. Maybe grocery shopping, or working or going to class. And then a group of guys attack a young woman with no provocation or probably warning. Oh, and generic hateful, threatening speech. ...If with a less than usual conclusion. Allison considered for another moment before deciding that no, she really couldn’t think of much more iconic situations to display prejudice than the one she’d just stumbled into. Eeyah. Humans are idiots, as usual. Well, people in general really, but humans in this instance....
"D-do you have a place to stay? I mean, I know you can pass for human and all so it's probably not all that bad for you but..."
Allison blinked back to reality, then nodded. “Yeah. Well, I can pass for human for a day, then they notice the ink changes or whatever and start asking awkward questions. Generally involving why-are-you-not-an-artist, for some reason. Apparently it’s incomprehensible that I might control ink and still suck at art anyway. But, uh, yeah, I have an apartment, my parents helped get it, so it’s really small and there’s this extra insurance fee, but it’s there.” She shifted, suddenly conscious that she’d left it with books and dishes scattered around, and laundry mostly in the basket and completely unfolded. Oh well, at least it’s not my room. I don’t have space to be messy here. “Would, uh, you like to come over? It’s kind of a ways away, I think about four miles from here, but....”
“I'm Allison, thanks for helping me.” Habit took over and Allison dropped her mostly undone brain to shake the woman’s hand, calculating the pressure to be slightly less than she normally used. She was trying to be friendly, not impressive. She automatically started to look for the scratch when the woman admitted to having one, then stopped herself as she remembered she wouldn’t be able to see anything. Why would anyone ever consider clothing like this to be practical for anything? Even if you need to stay that warm how could you move at all? Not that she didn’t seem to manage to....
Allison still couldn’t see enough of the other woman’s face to tell anything, but she caught the shift, and it seemed fairly similar to the way her posture changed when something went wrong and she went from a good mood to beginning to shut down and get away from everything living again. Though what could’ve caused that now, I have no idea. Still, distraction time. Um.... I can think of nothing. “So, um.... What were you doing? Before you ran into them, I mean.”
"Thank you for helping me and I'm s-sorry for getting you involved like that."
Allison blinked and turned as the woman returned, no longer a dinosaur and once again covered in far too many clothes for Allison to not question her sanity. She reached up, beginning to unbraid her hair as she answered. “No problem, nothing happened to me.” Which was a lie, her shoulder was still aching slightly where it had been hit, but that would go away in a few hours or less, and didn’t even hurt as much as her legs would after she finished running anyway. Which I need to do. I should be running, but I don’t want to be rude, and the run’s been pretty well interrupted already anyway.... “Are you alright? I saw one of the guys had a knife, and you have to be melting wearing that much....” She gave the cloth a skeptical look. I’m not sure even all of Alaska would be cold enough to wear that in now.
Allison barely kept control of the ink as her concentration was broken by a chirp from the raptor, though she had to leave the latest line of ink sitting at the wrong point in her skin, still burning as she glanced over. The raptor... held up a claw? before picking up the fabric Allison hadn’t noticed until that point and running into an alley.
...Definitely not making the dinosaur from fabric, then. Allison blinked after the dinosaur for a moment, then went back to her ink, settling the line she’d been working on and then finishing her new pattern. Lies curled around her face and down her neck and arms, getting to drip more and more as they got further down, while her legs showed only drips and the occasional might-have-once-been-a-line. She hadn’t bothered with covering any skin that wasn’t visible; sinking the ink through her clothes and knowing how it would look was just too much of a pain to bother with, and it wouldn’t really matter anyway. That did, however, leave her with nearly half her ink unused, and she frowned at it for a moment. I have nowhere to put it, but I probably ought to keep it in case... but it’s not like ink is a great weapon, of all things... but really, how many times could I possibly be attacked... well, run into attacks, in one run? She tilted her head, then shrugged, and clapped the ink between her hands, absorbing it into the palms so that both were stained solid dark teal.
The raptor chirped more, lowering its head, and its feathers fluffed up, so Allison figured she probably wasn’t going to be attacked immediately and started scratching lightly at the feathers above the raptor’s eyes. They were almost the same color as her hair, only a bit darker. Sam would be ecstatic to be able to prove that raptors had feathers. She started running her hands back along the raptor’s head and the beginning of its neck, feeling somewhat hypnotized by the surreality or the situation. I am standing in the middle of a New York neighborhood, petting a dinosaur, after being sort of involved in a fight without trying to run away, and probably being started at. And I’m not panicking. Have I missed anything else that’s off about the last ten minutes?
Allison blinked, looking down as a drop splashed against her leg, remembering the ink she’d let go of. Her hand stilled as she noticed it and she watched it run down her leg for a moment, then backed away, bending down to pull the trails from where ink had run down her leg into her skin, creating a new set of tattoos. She tilted her head, frowning slightly at the ink on the ground, then taking a few steps to run her hand over everywhere it had splashed, lifting it off the ground, her shoes and her clothes, holding it in an orb in the air and pulling of small threads to recreate tattoos. The original pattern and colors were lost, and she liked the dripping effect, so she started a pattern like makeup, with thick lines for eyeliner, and after a glance at the raptor, extremely thin ones branching off that like feathers. She started adding asymmetrical designs growing from the corners of her eyes, sometimes letting them begin to drip before pulling them into her skin.
Allison blinked, backing up a few steps as the dinosaur screeched again and one of the boys ran. One of the two who’d attacked the other woman tried attacking the dinosaur with a knife as the remaining two followed the first to run. Okay, even I think that’s stupid. If you’re going to attack something that can kill you in two seconds, maybe you should actually attack it seriously, genius. The dinosaur snapped at him and missed, and he followed the other three.
The raptor turned toward Allison, chirping and then tilting its head. ...Well, I think I am going to assume that is friendly, going on the basis that I’m not dead yet. Allison blinked at the raptor, and specifically the raptor’s claws, for another moment before taking a few steps forward again and holding her hand out. I am treating a raptor as a cat. A raptor as a cat. I believe I have proven that my self preservation instinct is, not only terribly misled, but probably either screamed and ran while I was laughing, or was kidnapped and murdered at the same time. I do not think either is a good sign for me. ...But on the basis I’m not dead yet, it might be friendly, so.... She held her hand at the level of the raptor’s head, staying still and not quite meeting its eyes.
Allison didn’t pay enough attention to the growl to notice any more than that it existed, and decide that the woman must be able to create larger cloth dinosaurs than she’d thought. Also more vocal. Doesn’t cloth absorb sound? Cloth shouldn’t be able to make any sound. Except like... snapping. Snappy growling. She had to jump back as she lost control of the ink and the boys came after her again, a bit more aggressively than before.
The boys froze after a moment, staring at something, and Allison took the second to dart over to them, get control of the ink back and pull it out of their skin, then dart around behind them.
...I don’t think that’s fabric. Allison froze, just like the boys had, blinking as some form of raptor screeched at one of the boys who’d been attacking the other woman. Allison stared at the dinosaur for another moment as she forgot the ink, letting it splash down onto the sidewalk.
Allison dropped the braid half finished as the boys attacked, and pushed the rest of the ink out of her skin in a flash of burn-freeze-cut-pain-ecstasy that made her eyes glaze for an instant before she blinked, grinned and ducked away from one of the boy’s attempt to hit her. That of course put her in the other boy’s path and she coughed as she was hit, then started laughing again. My sense of humor is officially insane today. And self destructive. Probably useful. She blinked away the ink that had started to run toward her eyes, and collected as much as she could--most, since a lot had gotten absorbed into her clothes or shoes instead of dripping onto the sidewalk--lifting it into the air around her and letting it mix into a dark teal. Now is probably not the time to bother with keeping them separate. This is pretty enough anyway.
The boys paused and Allison grinned, separating a thin line of ink to throw at both boys who’d attacked her. It splashed the arm of one and shoulder of the other, drawing one angry and one confused look. She pulled the rest of the ink back to soak into her clothes and concentrated on the two splashes, shoving them into the boys’ skin and then pulling it through quickly to provoke the nerves and create the freezing-burning-pain-sharp raw sensation that she was used to. Doubt they are.
"I'd be careful what you say, girly. You might just get hurt."
Allison snickered more at the skinny boy’s threat, for no particular reason she could think of. Definitely a bad sign for my survival instinct. Or sense of humor. Probably both. She bounced on her toes, the adrenaline from running making her want to move. “Yes, because what I say has any effect at this point.”
"Leave us alone now and no one gets hurt."
Allison blinked and turned her head enough to see the woman, holding a knife close enough to the size of the one the boy was holding. “...Though what she says might matter,” Allison added. If her face was visible enough to look angry, maybe.
...They can see my face. Allison stopped bouncing and grinned, fierce and almost bloodthirsty. Cheshire cat, Cheshire vampire cat.... Wonderland is evil. She started pushing the ink out of her skin, slowly, so that it seeped out of her skin and dripped down her arms with minimal sensation. She shook her head, pulling her hair forward to start braiding the ponytail and grinning at the boys she could see. If only I had another hair tie....
“Oh.” Allison blinked. That’s kind of drastic. And stupid. Either there’s no reason to dislike a mutation or there’s a very good reason to not piss off whoever has said mutation. Unless it’s like... Medusa, but her gaze only works on people she likes.... Allison blinked back to reality as the four reached them. “That’s... quite stupid, really.”
"Looks like we've got a mutie and a mutie lover here now boys."
Allison blinked at the boy who’d spoken for a second before she figured out what he meant and started snickering. “If you didn’t even manage to pass kindergarten, I don’t think you get to judge anyone.” Oh yes, mocking the murderer, wise thing to do there. That sounds like a game show, actually. “Actually... isn’t it preschool that teaches counting to two...?” Allison shifted as the boys moved around them so that she was standing with the woman on her left. Mocking the Murderer. Making the Murderer. Hm, playing an evil god. Or like... legos, that get brought to life. Or designing like... mad science, maybe. Designing hybrid berserker warrior assassins. That are part wolf and part bee and part army ant and part stingray. Hm, she can make stingrays.... No, I didn’t ask yet. “Can you turn cloth into cloth? Or like, felt, or something?” Allison paused for a moment before realizing what she said. “Stingrays! I meant stingrays.”
Allison was distracted from her Alaska theory as she helped the person up and noticed her eyes were black. Hm. Probably a mutant then. Maybe that explains the... outfit. Excessive cloth. Maybe she controls cloth. Or can turn it into stuff. Like tears. Where did I even come up with that? Tears? Something reasonable. Like.... I have no idea. Felt. Because that’s not fabric already. Stingrays. Miniature flying happy stingrays....
"You sh-should probably leave. Quickly. Otherwise they might come after you too."
Allison’s attention was brought back to reality as the guessing it’s a woman by the voice spoke. She blinked and glanced up to see four teenagers running toward them, and getting closer quickly. One looked vaguely familiar, but not enough for Allison to have any clue who he was. She blinked. Huh. Come after me? “I’m not too worried, thanks though.” With the speed they were running, there was no way they’d catch her if she decided to run, even if she had been tired. She glanced back at the woman she’d run into, more curious about the whole situation than anything else. Which is probably not a good sign for my morality. Or empathy. Or something. Possibly survival instincts. “What’s going on?” I believe that is the most generic question I could have possibly come up with.
