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.
The silence didn't register; the half-slurred comment did, though the source did not. The bug's following commentary registered more completely, and Allison glared at him in disbelieving anger. Interesting? Trying to eat her--or anyone, really, but right now Allison was most concerned with herself, since she hadn't seen him try to eat anyone else, yet--was not ever acceptable. And definitely not interesting.
The yell did register, and this time, so did the fact that it was Megan yelling. Allison jumped, and turned the few inches necessary to see Megan burst through the curtains, stop, and then... that was not smooth enough to be called a walk... toward Allison. Allison managed a few steps forward, despite wariness of the bug, which did no good since Megan collapsed anyway. "Megan?" Allison followed her down, kneeling, only for the bug to pick her up. Allison stared up for a moment before fighting her way back to her feet, too.
Megan... was, indeed, lacking a shirt. Allison hadn't been paying attention until the bug pointed it out. Her first instinct was to give Megan one, but--but then Allison wouldn't have one, and as much as the shirt still made her cringe, she just--couldn't do that. Not now, not with these people around; she just couldn't, and she ended up clutching at the edge of her shirt in indecision for a moment, before the bug pointed out something else.
Alex. Staring. Sure, Alex had been helpful, and he was from Sanctuary, and there was absolutely no reason to worry about him, rationally, but--staring. That the bug had called him boy didn't help. Allison's head snapped around to glare, and then she spun, marched over, grabbed his arm and wrenched him around to get him off balance--his surprised yelp was ignored in favor of her hissed "get out"--and used the lack of balance to shove him out the door.
Kevin was thirteen (and a quarter, not just thirteen!) years old, and generally known to be unusually talkative. This might have had something to do with the fact that he had four lungs; it was perfectly natural for him to breath with one set, and talk with the other, with no need to ever do such a silly thing as pause his speech to breath. He knew, on some level, that other people only had two lungs, but couldn't quite understand why they didn't just talk with one lung and use the other to breath, and anyway, he tended to forget.
In addition to his four lungs, Kevin had two hearts; what particular use the second heart was was less clear, since they seemed to alternate beats. Whether one would speed up if the other ever stopped was unclear, and no one was quite willing to test. Kevin also produced blood at about twice the rate other people did, which might have been of some interest to him if it did him any good. Instead, he just got nosebleeds every few hours, so the skin below his nose was permanently tinged a bit pinker than it should be, and the little red pinpricks of broken veins spotted his skin even more than his freckles did. Sometimes, there were broken veins inside freckles. Kevin thought it was hilarious, even if no one else quite seemed to understand why.
What Kevin did not know, and no one had bothered to explain to him, was that his excessive blood supply was also why he was quite so... energetic. And fidgety, and generally incapable of ever staying still, no matter how literal or metaphorical the sense. Most people just assumed he had ADHD, which might not have been entirely inaccurate, if someone had been able to sort out the effects of his mutation to check. But no one had, and anyway, there were stranger quirks in the Mansion, so Kevin's energy was left alone, and when he saw a lady waving to him and his friends from the other side of the gate, he went bouncing over to check without bothering to wait for his friends. His friends were used to this, and stayed put; Kevin would get back much faster than they could catch up with him.
"Hey hi lady! What'cha doing, do you wanna come in? I dunno why they close that gate, everyone oughta come hang out here, it's awesome!" Kevin had, technically, stopped running when he reached the gate, and stood. He also, technically, then immediately started hopping from foot to foot. He only had two of those, fortunately, or it might have gotten even more confusing.
The lady blinked, and looked somewhat bemused for a second before answering. Kevin noticed this, but then immediately forgot. "Yeah, I'm looking for a friend of mine."
"Cool!" Kevin bounced up to the gate, and looked for a way to open it. That was boring, so he started climbing in order to look better. "I've got lots of friends here, how come you've only got one? You can meet mine if you want, they're fun! There's Mati, she turns into this fox thing that's made of fire, 'cept if you pet her she's fuzzy, but then she gets bored and bites you if you do that too long. And Theo, he's sorta creepy cause he always appears behind you and you never see him walking anywhere, he's always just kinda there and he glares a lot, but he's funny. And Mildred, she likes staying outside cause she kinda catches fire sometimes, only she doesn't always notice, so sometimes Tina'll start roasting marshmallows on her before she notices, and then she makes him make jello for us to make up for not telling her, which is awesome, someday he needs to turn the whole pool into Jello, he can do that just by touching the water, only so far he just gets sleepy before he can change the whole pool."
The lady was still blinking while Kevin hung over the edge of the gate, having given up (or, more specifically, forgotten about) opening it, and instead was busy chattering. "You have interesting friends," she managed to get in between Kevin's unlimited-by-breathing speech.
"Yeah! And then there's Quentin and Alois, Alois can throw bread around, like lasers!" Kevin demonstrated, punching through the air, then had to grab back onto the top of the gate. "And when he gets one big enough, like those bag-it French things, he can ride around on 'em like a broom, like Hogwarts! He did that for Halloween last year, 'cept then Mati ate it so he couldn't fly anymore. And Quentin, he's got this special room that's all high-tech and water beds and stuff, 'cause if he has a pillow it turns into razors, which is kinda creepy but he's not, apart from that, only he's got a bunch of scars from it happening, they're really cool, but he keeps trying to hide them so he's got really long hair, like it's down at his shoulders!" Kevin demonstrated, waving his hand around by his shoulder, though he remembered to hold on with the other one.
"Er... your friends sound very fun," the lady said. Kevin noticed it looked like someone had drawn on her face and leaned over to look closer. "Were you going to let me in?"
"Oh! Right!" Kevin shot upright, and began clambering down the gate again. "I dunno how, I think this gate doesn't open like that, so I'll go get someone and they can let you in. You wait there, I'll be right back and then they'll let you in and you can meet my friends, and maybe Mati'll let you pet her!" He jumped the rest of the way down, spun, and took off running for the Mansion's door.
He could leave. How about that? That could help combat mental anguish. Or he could stop asking her about it, that would help too. Talking wasn't helpful, though, and the last thing Allison wanted was to encourage him to talk more. So she stayed quiet.
Yeah. Yeah, definitely, the giant bug needed to stop talking. Hearing that this was common and normal and maybe someday we can daydream was the last thing Allison needed. Granted, it didn't change anything, and maybe in theory not being alone was better, but it still hurt. If it was that common, she'd never had any chance; if it was normal, then she ought to be happy for being more normal now, and either way now she had to worry about it happening again. Lightning didn't often hit the same person twice, but mosquitoes did. And 'our kind'? Allison felt a little more like womankind than mutantkind at this point, even if it was both that mattered. Protecting herself by passing the attacks down to someone even more helpless was not a solution she liked at all. That was what they'd been trying to prevent.
...Maybe not talking wasn't the best option. Allison couldn't cringe anymore when Megan screamed, but it wasn't for lack of trying.
Okay, yes, it was. Or maybe it wasn't; anger was easier, after all. Allison was back on her feet and glaring before she realized. "You tried to eat me!" And then, when she did realize, she was shying back along the wall; toward a corner, but away from the giant bug. And shaking, again, but she thought this time it might be at least partly anger. That was okay, that was easier; it was easier to notice the fight between fear and glaring that was taking over her face, and trying to sort it out and tone them both down than it was to think.
Finding the Mansion hadn't been too difficult. Allison had been there once, after all, several months... perhaps a year ago. Anyway, she knew where it was, at least generally, in a vague sense. Google knew exactly.
Getting there wasn't hard, at all. Walk some blocks (which was not entirely comfortable, but still, wasn't hard), take the subway, and walk some more. Allison would have preferred not to have had to walk, but... well, that was how it was. It wasn't that difficult. And she'd evaded attention, largely by leaving off all tattoos on her face and keeping her hands hidden in pockets. That made the trip much simpler.
Getting into the Mansion... that might be difficult. She'd tried calling Cafas again, and his phone still seemed to be off; she was definitely going to have to inform him of that when she found him. In the meantime, there was a gate, and Allison didn't have a very obvious way through it. She frowned, standing a bit back to stare at it for a minute before spotting people and waving. "Hello! I'm looking for Cafas, would you mind letting me in?"
Whether it would work... well, Allison would be pretty suspicious if the situation were reversed. But it was worth trying; hopefully she could at least convince them to tell Cafas to turn his phone on for her. And this was the Mansion, after all, they were supposed to be trusting.
This coffee shop wasn't the one Allison had worked at. It wasn't a bookstore, for one thing, used, new, combination or otherwise. Despite that, it wasn't any smaller; the rectangle was large, open, and airy, with tiled floors, skylights set in a high ceiling, all the lights hanging from the ceiling wrapped in boxes of paper that looked (but probably wasn't) handmade, and delicate oval metal covers over single bulbs spaced along the wall between neighborhood artists' prints, paintings and photographs. Every photograph, Allison noticed, was of the countryside; the only one that might be called urban was of a small, cobblestone street, winding from a pair of feet to a village that might very well have come from the twelfth century, if it weren't so pristine.
Tables were spaced--definitely spaced, and not at all crowded--around the floor, with a clear aisle left on either side of the room (past the artwork and, it turned out, their accompanying price tags) back to the counter. The tables were black, polished metal covered in a sheet of glass that extended an inch beyond the metal; the chairs were assorted, but all the same artistic black metal. Someone had put a lot of work into this place.
Allison didn't care. She was aware that it was intended to seem like a vacation; classy and luxurious, but not so luxurious that the people in it might feel guilt for wasting money, or losing connection to 'real people' in favor of the rich. But Allison had been, and once again was, the rich; this sort of place was the least luxurious she'd grown up among, and knowing that it was supposed to be impressive didn't make it so.
Besides, it wasn't like anyone was here. They'd left in a hurry, clearly; everything was cleaned and put away properly, but with just that touch of messiness that indicated whoever put it away had been checking off the list to go home as quickly as they could, and not worrying about when they came back. Maybe they'd been scared, maybe eager; either way, Allison hadn't been involved in their departure. A bit odd, that.
Odd, however, did not compare to any of a number of more interesting things, many of which were present. Allison had her head stuck into a frozen section of the counter, which was the only reason she didn't let herself start bouncing; she didn't want to hit her head. "Ooh, I think the ice cream's still good!"
And, perhaps, she should leave it that way, if it had survived to this point already. Allison pulled her head out, shut the door, stepped over to stand behind the middle of the counter, and waved a hand at the menu (handwritten in pastel chalks, with monotonously sweet little flowers and vines in the corners) above her. "So what would you like, my Queen?"
She might have been exaggerating with the Queen thing. Really, Allison wasn't sure anymore. But then, she didn't care much, either.
"Hm. That makes sense. Good luck, then." Allison didn't really understand; her mutation didn't give her any feedback whatsoever. Which was a bit annoying, at times. But she could see how it would be overwhelming. "It's not impossible, I think. My mutation kind of... glitched, and quit working for a while, recently...." Hopefully the hesitation would work like she was searching for words to explain it, instead of sorting through all the stuff around that memory. "I don't know why it happened, it didn't last very long," except for being far, far too long, "but if it happened with mine, I'm sure it can happen with others."
"Oh." Well, that changed things a bit. "Can't you drive?" That was kind of a stupid question. Why else would she give up on the car without a driver? For that matter, why else would she have a driver? Evelyn didn't seem like the stuck up sort. "I could teach you, if you'd like. It's been a little while since I drove so I might not be the best teacher ever, but better than nothing."
"Hm. I'm not sure." Allison leaned back against the tree and idly watched the leaves flicker. "I don't think our brains are designed for silence, really. If there's nothing to see or hear, then there's always something else to notice or remember and think about. At least my mind is never quiet." Nor was anyone else's, she was sure, but there wasn't much point to arguing that.
"Ah, yeah. That wouldn't be good to miss. What happened to your car?" Allison had sold hers before moving to New York, since freshmen weren't allowed cars, and then... never gotten around to getting another. She probably should; it would be useful sometimes, even if it wasn't really necessary.
"They are." Allison pouted, and collapsed dramatically against Cafas's side. She heard a snicker from the direction of the interns, which was quickly suppressed. "There's always somewhere to go, I don't know how anyone can keep up with it! I barely even have time to put on makeup."
Seeing whether the producer remembered that most of her makeup was actually ink was probably not a good idea. Even if he did, though, she could probably convince him that that took too long, or that she spent a lot of time obsessing over the makeup she did still wear. Him realizing that she was mocking him and seeing how much he'd fall for... probably wouldn't happen. She probably still shouldn't take the risk, though. Oh well. "It's so fun though, so many people know me now, and they keep taking pictures, even when I'm not acting, it's wonderful!"
Allison skipped--really, fully skipped--through the door Cafas held, waited for him to walk through too, and hung on his arm. As soon as the door shut and they were out of sight she let go, and mimed vomiting. Delicately, of course.
"I live here." Allison didn't need permission to be here, and it was easier to resent being given permission than anything else. Easier than thinking about healers, and needing a healer, and what she'd need a healer for, and the last thing she wanted was a healer who'd touch her and ask what happened and know what happened and make her think about how she was hurt and what caused it, but she was thinking about it anyway and the more she tried to forget about it the more she could feel all of it, and... maybe she could just pretend they were only fixing burns. It wasn't working at all, but she was burned, and she thought burns were really at risk of infection, and she couldn't even breath without crying because of the one on her throat. It was easier to blame crying on that. "I should."
...Because we knew it was bad, and I wanted to taunt them into attacking us so we could attack back. Allison tried to bury her face further into her arms. She hadn't thought about it that way. Hadn't thought about it at all, really. Realizing it was her fault made her sick again; her stomach thrashed and she had to stop breathing for a few seconds to be sure she didn't throw up. She could maybe have dealt with it if it was just her, but... Megan.
Patriarchy. Hmph. Allison had a few opinions on that, but no time to share them in. The producer probably wouldn't appreciate the criticism, and there wasn't time to fix it anyway. Which wouldn't stop Allison from complaining, but she'd at least wait until no one could hear her who would be overly offended by it.
In the meantime, she smiled while Cafas answered, then leaned forward for her own. The producer had been absolutely convinced the whole time they'd worked on this that Allison was just as naively cheerful as Rashell was, and Allison had yet to bother correcting him. She pretended she didn't see Cafas's wink. "Oh yeah, that was so much fun to film! I'd love to be able to do that for real." Apart from the jumping off of windows thing, she already could, but the window had been more fun anyway. "It'd be awesome to do that again sometime."
The producer smiled benevolently down at her, despite the fact that he wasn't actually above her at the moment. "Well, we'll see how the ratings are. If people like the characters we might be able to invite you back sometime."
Allison resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him, and focused on looking happy. Honestly.
Allison jumped when the... whatever bugs had instead of hands... touched her. She was already against the wall though, so she couldn't get away, just try to curl into herself more. It didn't seem to work. Her head hurt; her mind wasn't working right, it was reciting statements and facts at her, just noting reality, not bothering with any indication of what it meant or what anything might be connected to. She was pretty okay with that, really. Allison stared at the inside of her arms, and couldn't tell whether her eyes were open or not.
She wasn't looking at the bug. She knew it was the bug, but as long as she didn't look she could sort of pretend it wasn't. Bugs didn't talk. And anyway she couldn't get away, so it was better not to look. She cringed again, and the wall was still there.
She could answer that, though, probably. Just pretend they were talking about some other men. Like she'd watched a movie he'd missed the end of. It still took a while to get ahold of the words. "I... don't know. Someone showed up, he killed... most of them, anyway... I wasn't looking." And if the bug wanted to know any more than that, he could go figure it out himself. Allison wasn't.
Megan screamed again. Allison flinched from that, too.
If the comments had come from anyone else, they might have calmed Allison down. But they were coming from a giant bug that had tried to eat her, so they didn't. She stared between the bug and Megan, shaking and still oblivious to the fact that she was crying. She did reach up automatically to find the rip in her shirt and lock her hand around it, as if holding it closed would make any actual difference.
What happened? Allison was--that--she couldn't answer. It wasn't that she didn't know, she did, but she just--the words wouldn't work. She couldn't make herself think them; how was she supposed to say anything? She kept staring and shaking, and dissolved further into tears as she noticed them. After a minute she slid down the wall to sit next to it, and bury her face in her arms.
Allison, personally, thought she'd been dealing fairly well with... being... with everything that had happened. Sure, she'd certainly prefer to curl up somewhere and cry for a few days until she woke up and it was just a dream, but that hadn't been an option, and she hadn't. Which, she thought, was more than could really be expected of her at that point. So she was doing fairly well.
Until she (and Megan and Alex) was kidnapped by what appeared to be a pair of talking blurs. Neither of which she knew. She felt perfectly justified screaming then. And being thoroughly disturbed even when it turned out they'd kidnapped her to Sanctuary. Also? Giant bug, that she distinctly remembered trying to eat her. At the Sanctuary, yelling at... Allison didn't even know, it might be her, it might not be. Either way it didn't help. Getting to the infirmary might have been good, if Allison hadn't been so freaked out and feeling out of control of everything already. As it was she barely noticed enough not to attack the healers when they pried Megan out of her hands.
And the bug. Was talking to her. That was absolutely it; Allison could not cope any more. She backed away from the bug as quickly as she could. "What are you doing here? What just happened, who are they, what are you--I'll kill you if you hurt Megan! Don't touch me!" She was crying again, though she didn't notice, and had backed herself into a wall.
Alex stared. He was a bit annoyed--his squirrels would find their way back, eventually, but it was still irritating to have lost all but one of them in the rush--but mostly he was confused. "What just happened?"
"I could. It's mostly just an issue of knowing where the pages are." Apart from that... well, actually, apart from that Allison had done it before. It was really pretty easy. It was just that knowing where the pages are detail that became an issue.... "It's not really math--I don't have to think the numbers, anyway--but it's that sort of information. Knowing exactly where everything is in relation to everything else." She grinned. "So basically I need your echoes."
Allison's laugh at Evelyn's joke was a little exaggerated, but that was fine. It was a bit amusing, and there was no need to make things awkward by frowning at it. "Yeah. At least mine's only dangerous when I want it to be; it doesn't get out of my control. That's helpful."
"Heh. Yeah, changing my actual eye color... not a good idea." Allison gave Evelyn a rueful grin. "I tried that once, ended up blinding an eye. The whites aren't that delicate, though, so I can play with them, but they hurt."
"I can." Posing done, Allison settled back down. "I have to be nearby, but I can. It's not that easy though; I move ink... hm. It's like having to give directions in math, I guess. I move it to a certain point, or I can keep it all in the same position relative to itself, and move it a distance in a direction. I can't just move a word to another point on the page; I need to know exactly where the page is. So that'd actually be pretty difficult to do."
