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 blinked, turned her head, and considered the girl who'd spoken. She... did not look familiar. So either she'd seen Allison in a magazine or on TV (or on that book cover, and Allison still didn't know how that existed), or Allison had just forgotten her. Or she did remember her, but when they'd met before the girl had been dressed differently enough to throw Allison off now. All three were possibilities; Allison wasn't very good with faces.
Oh well. Either way. Allison was a bit bored, and anyway there was no reason not to answer, seeing as the girl hadn't been rude at all. "New ones, actually. I replace them fairly often." Which used to mean every day, but now was ending up closer to twice a week.
Allison had missed parks. Not that it had been particularly long since she'd been in one, but still. They were nice, and she hadn't been as recently as she'd like. Besides, the weather was nice today; it was actual summer weather. Which meant she could finally get away with not wearing a jacket.
...And with scandalizing everyone else in the park. Allison's pants weren't too tight, but the shirt was definitely smaller than it ought to be, and it wasn't yet very obvious why, so it looked like she just bought clothes so that they'd be skintight. And then she also had white skin, substantial hair roots also growing out white, and tattoos climbing up her arms and twisting out from her eyes.
Okay, so maybe the clothes weren't the only reason she kept attracting shocked and offended looks.
Either way, Allison was fairly used to attracting those looks, so she ignored them while she leaned against a tree. Climbing the tree was tempting... but probably not a good idea. So she settled for leaning against the trunk and staring at the leaves.
"What? Yes you are, go!" Allison did her best to shove Cafas away, and failed. She let him carry her, if only because fighting would slow him down more and, apparently, not actually get him to leave. She held onto the backpack, since it wasn't likely to matter anyway, and tried to blink the tears out of her eyes.
That did not stop her from jabbing Cafas's shoulder with her finger when he wasted breath on making snarky comments at Mike. "This is not the time for that!" It was a good time to try and get the pain out of her voice. She failed, though. "And it is not worth more than your life!"
Not that convincing him would help any, at this point. The door shut behind him, and Allison held on while he looked for a light switch. "Quit apologizing, I'm an adult. We both got ourselves in." Which did not mean Allison was going to let Cafas die, if she had any say in it. She might not; the room was a dead end. She could still try, though. Allison dropped the backpack and leaned closer to Cafas, pulling on his hair to make sure he listened. "Get me over to the door, CJ. And put me down." Having her jump--or fall--on him as soon as he opened the door was probably not something Mike expected. If they were lucky, it would distract him long enough for Cafas to run.
Allison's head was facing away from the door, and the shoe stayed on it, so she couldn't see what was happening. She could hear, but that didn't tell her much. Who was Red? Rick and John had dark hair, the only one with red hair was--but no one called her Red. At least no one she knew, so that didn't really help any.
Whoever it was was threatening... either Rick or John; they both had feet on her, really. And loudly; even with her hearing muffled by Rick's foot she could tell.
Figuring out what John was saying was harder; he sounded annoyed, but it wasn't that loud, and Allison was distracted trying to figure out why the person who'd appeared was threatening. He might be helping her--police or one of the various good guys who ran around trying to eliminate crime on their own, who'd found out about... wherever she was; Allison had stopped thinking about it a while ago, and didn't know anyway. Or, in theory, they might be looking for her; seeing as she didn't know them though, that seemed unlikely. Or they could be part of the mob, and Rick and John had gone past what they were supposed to do to her. Or they were part of the mob, and it was just a way to trick Allison into trusting the new one. There wasn't any way to tell.
...They were distracted, though, whatever it was. It took a few seconds for Allison to decide, then a few more to convince herself to take the risk, and twist her arm up to punch the inside of Rick's knee. She'd had to use the hand that had been kicked, and gasped at the extra surge of pain from the cuts.
He didn't fall, but the leg folded, and more weight pressed on Allison's head. She struggled, and managed to get her head up enough to throw him off further so he was stumbling away, and she scrambled away from both of them. She got about four feet before Rick caught up to her; his foot caught her stomach and she was back on the floor, coughing and gasping as he grabbed her arm and pulled her up. She tried to get her arm free, and failed; tried to yell, and at least got words out, though it was still breathless and gasping. "Let go!"
Cafas was insane. Well, Allison had already been over that; she was too, and she followed.
The jump was simple enough; stupid, and the landing was a little jarring, but simple. Running was simple too; muscles and lungs, footsteps echoing from every direction in the dark. Allison could see Cafas ahead of her when they passed lights; she couldn't stop to look back, but didn't need to see Mike. Gunshots echoed too, and louder, every time they ran through light.
It was maybe the fourth pool of light when Mike succeeded. Allison screamed when the bullet hit her, and fell; she sprawled in pools made of the light, her hair, and her blood for a few seconds before managing to push herself up on her arms. Mike had only hit her leg; it was bleeding fast, and hurt too much to move, but the rest of her was still alive. "CJ!" She struggled to get the backpack off, and shoved it at him. "Here. Run! I can delay him, just go."
Allison stumbled when Cafas pulled her arm, caught her balance and ran. The gun and the shouted order explained why, and Allison was sort of relieved; it wasn't Mike. Police would hesitate to shoot; it wasn't like they were murderers. Mike didn't care.
The cars hesitated to hit them, too, and they were able to get away much more easily than they had last time. Not enough, of course; they'd still have a lot more running to do to get far enough. But they had a head start.
And then they didn't. It wasn't intentional, but Allison's terrified expression was visible to Mike for an instant before she followed Cafas over the gate. His grin was visible to her. Allison and Cafas ran.
Adrenaline and fear were too closely linked; Allison would easily admit to enjoying thrills, the way adrenaline seemed to let her run an inch above the ground, and twice as fast as she could sprint. She liked the thrill, and the success when it was over. She wasn't so fond of the burning throat and lungs, the aching muscles, or the bang and spark of guns behind and bullets around her.
The bullets paused; Mike must have gone over the gate to follow them. A part of Allison's mine recognized screams in the background, and she tried to get back that feeling of flying.
"I... don't know." Allison hadn't been able to make up her mind about that. She hadn't wanted to have to. It would have been easier, earlier, but.... "I don't know what to do." She could see herself as a mother. And she could see herself happy that way, but she could also see herself happy without a kid, too. And it was... it wasn't Aura's, but she never could have Aura's; did it matter who the father technically was? She wasn't even sure she wanted a kid so much as a normal life, easy and like she'd always been told she'd have, and had to fight not to be tempted by. She'd never won that fight, just put off losing. Allison could have a kid, could raise a kid, but she couldn't figure out whether she wanted to, or whether Aura would want her to, or... or anything she needed to.
The hand on her stomach was... powerful. Like joyful advertisement cliches, like story books and soap opera happily ever afters, and like Stephan's hand on burns. He was dead, he couldn't touch her, but he was, but so was Aura and happily ever after. The associations were fighting and Allison couldn't react; just stare at Aura with wide eyes and her heart racing.
The moment was over, and Allison was able to relax and rest her head on Aura's shoulder again; leaning this time, instead of hiding. "I love you too. I'm sorry, I... I didn't want to think about it, I didn't want to talk about it, and I didn't want you to be upset... I didn't know how to tell you." That exhale had tried to be a laugh, but Allison's thoughts were too scattered. "I don't know."
Jogging. Well, at least it wasn't running, and it didn't last too long. Now, they got to walk through the store, without attracting attention. Allison was perfectly happy with that, and followed Cafas out of the store.
The street was clear too... well, or it wasn't clear, but they weren't recognized, so it was close. Allison relaxed, and caught up to walk next to Cafas, allowing her head to turn back and forth, watching the displays in the windows of stores. Or the reflections in those windows, or the people behind them; there was no way for anyone watching to tell the difference.
It was still safe. Allison relaxed more, glanced over to check on Cafas, and smiled. He was trying so hard to be casual and calm; probably only someone who knew him well would be able to tell he was actually alert. Alert was fine, though; it meant he didn't see anything wrong. Allison went back to the windows.
It took much longer than it should have for Allison to get some idea of what was going on; she was watching, eyes flicking between the different men, trying to keep track of it all and still too scared to think enough to understand. Once she did, she kept her eyes on the new man; two of Stephan's men were down (plus the corpse already on Allison), and she saw the last of Stephan's men be killed. Or second to last; she recognized Daniel struggling as the new man stepped on him, flinched and looked away.
Her eyes snapped back at the gunshots, and then she forced them away again. There wasn't any way the new guy was winning after being shot; hopefully he'd just be killed, and then... then Stephan would be mad. Allison didn't think she'd done anything, but it would probably be her fault anyway. At least there weren't as many of them now....
Allison didn't look again until she realized someone was talking to her, still stuck on the floor beneath (Robert's) the corpse, and too scared of disobeying to move. When she did, she was back to being unable to understand what she saw for a minute; the new guy was bleeding--badly--but he was standing, and Stephan was... not. Allison stared between them, ignoring the man's words while she tried to understand. It looked like Stephan was dead, but--but he'd had a gun. She'd heard him shoot, it didn't make sense.
"What?" Allison's brain managed to catch a few words as the man left. I'll be taking her. "No! Wait!" Her voice was hoarse, and quiet; like some of it had gotten lost somewhere. Disobeying still scared her, but she struggled free anyway, shoved the corpse off of her, and backed away.
It... hurt. Moving hurt. And she was shaking, and clumsy; she wasn't sure if it was worse to move than to stay still, or if she was crying or just had been and her face was still wet. She tried rubbing the tears away, but she didn't dare close her eyes, so she could only brush them off of her cheeks, and they mostly smeared anyway.
She couldn't stay. She couldn't--couldn't deal with this room, and she had to get to Megan. But--leaving was--she was still naked, and covered in blood and--other things, she didn't even know, but--Megan. Allison took another frantic glance around the room, and shied around the bodies to pull on her pants and shirt--she couldn't make herself wear more, or touch more, though she picked up her jacket. The shirt would protect it from the blood, so--
One of the men--the one who'd been hit in the jaw--moved. Allison ran.
"Yes. What? No! No, she didn't do anything wrong." That was... not a very clear start, as Allison tried to keep up with questions, and force her own thoughts into some kind of organization beyond panic. Hopefully it was understandable. "I was with Megan. She didn't hurt me, she helped me." Sort of. She'd tried, anyway, and nearly died for it, so Allison thought that counted. She'd probably delayed them, anyway.
"It's not--" fixable, her mind filled in, but she was too inclined to giggle about it to get the words out, and too close to choking to really giggle. Neither made any sense. Allison buried her face in Aura's shoulder and tried to force the words to obey her. "I was with Megan. We were... when I met her she'd been trying to catch drug dealers, I was just kind of there, and they kidnapped both of us, and we killed them. They deserved it. We were... sort of doing that again, except we heard some guys talking about stalking and torturing mutants, and we kind of ran in before we actually knew anything about them.
"And it would have been fine, they were all humans, only I guess there weren't any spiders around, and the ink... I don't know, I lost it somehow, I don't know what happened." She still didn't know, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to or not; she didn't want to think about it. Allison had to fight to breath again, and noticed she was holding onto Aura's arm far too tightly to be comfortable. She tried to relax, and kept her face hidden. "But they won, but I'd already killed... one or two of them first... and blinded one, so they were mad. And Megan tried to stop them, but they almost killed her--they would have, except the Judge showed up, and I made him let me take her to the healers here." By convincing Alex to mob the Judge with squirrels so that the Judge couldn't do anything about it, but still. "He killed... most of them. And, um, I asked Isabel to help me kill the rest, so they're all dead now, I just... didn't want to talk about it and she doesn't really ask questions about killing humans."
And Allison was avoiding the topic. It turned out not to be really possible to stop herself, only not she'd run out of other things to say. "So. Um. I'm pregnant. And it's... been long enough, it's probably going to live."
It worked. This time Alli did make the time to thank God; still quickly, but she did. She really couldn't have run much more; as it was she had to use her shirt to dry off her face before putting the new ones on. Fortunately makeup hadn't smeared any with all the running, and the tags on the clothes were just normal ones; paper with a plastic thread attaching them, and easy to bite off in a second.
Hm. Not quite the right fit, as expected; Allison hadn't really worried about that. The (very short) shorts were a size too small, and therefore even shorter and more skintight than they were intended to be; the shirt was too big, and threatening to fall off both shoulders, instead of only the one it was intended to. Well, there were worse things; hopefully if they were seen--Allison could not hide her hair the way Cafas could--the police would spend too much attention on staring to actually see her.
The backpack... they couldn't do anything about. Except maybe... "Let me carry it." She could take her hair down, and leave it over the backpack; that would be a bit of a cover for it. Her clothes and the tags were dumped with Cafas's, and they left.
Oh dear God getting through that bullet storm was a miracle, definitely. Allison stopped inside the door, attempted to try to (really quickly, she wasn't stupid) thank God, and squeaked as Cafas pulled her down the steps. Okay, so she'd do that later.
Really, running through the clothing store? How better could they attract attention than that? Too late to walk, though; Allison followed, and when she noticed what Cafas was doing, grabbed something of her own without too much worry about the size. The shorts had a belt, and there weren't many shirts she couldn't wear, one way or another. The range in styles there was quite useful at times.
Allison jumped around the car, instead of over; she'd had enough rolling for a bit, thanks, and her shoulder was feeling bruised. That didn't stop her from running too.
Another alley, and more doors, but not enough time to open and get in one yet, with the police so close. More crates, boxes and trash cans to leap over or off of, and a corner; they turned that, and fortunately there was a door soon after it. Alli aimed for the door. Hopefully it would be unlocked, and they could get in and hide and let the police go past them.
She also had no room to talk, really. She was right behind him, given the options.
Cafas took most of the glass with him, so Allison was able to set a foot in a mostly clear space of the windowsill and leap from that. It also gave her the fraction of a second needed to spot Cafas and adjust her own leap to not land on him. Instead, she landed next to him, feet first and fell, rolled twice and was back on her feet, if staggering a bit to get her balance back, and with her arms (and shirt) now decorated with tiny cuts. She gasped to get back the breath she'd lost while landing (or perhaps while jumping, either was a valid cause), spun to check the window--no Mike yet, but she doubted it would be long--spun back, grabbed Cafas's hand, and took off again, even though she was still panting to try and catch up on oxygen. "Let's go!"
The roof was covered in gravel; probably the reason they hadn't broken anything landing. It still left vivid footprints, and an even more obvious audible trail; rocks clattered against each other as they kicked them up, and against the wall of the chimneys that were spaced along it.
Cafas sounded like he'd been in the military. Or some other group that liked loudly repeating the obvious. Allison was heading for the stairs before he caught up, and certainly wasn't inclined to stop before they disappeared. Which they did after a few floors, of course; it was like reality had a grudge against them. They could run, but not escape; even if the stairs hadn't stopped, they were leaving obvious footprints in the dust.
Cafas found a door (and more obvious orders), and they were running again. Allison did not appreciate the running; it was getting harder. Stopping wasn't really an option, though, so she went. It was kind of thrilling to run when she could see the floor beneath her; kind of terrifying to think about falling, and why they were running, and really much of anything. Also, when the catwalk they were on collapsed under their feet. That was scary too.
Allison did jump; she wasn't tall enough though, and had hesitated, and she missed the next section of the walk. She grabbed anyway, and caught Cafas's arm. The scream was entirely justified, in her opinion.
It was a miracle that Mike didn't catch up with them while Cafas pulled them up; the table must have slowed him more than she expected. He didn't, though, and they'd gotten back onto the catwalk--which had creaked and groaned and at one point popped and swayed, but not collapsed--and were even standing again before another bullet sparked against the metal. "Run!"
Allison might have had another reason for asking for help; she leaned against Aura, and let herself enjoy the contact instead of thinking about... other things. It worked; she let her eyes close and was smiling while Aura played with her hair.
Until she heard Aura's question, anyway. The smile ran away then. She... couldn't think of any way to start the conversation that she liked, there probably wasn't one, but having Aura start it (if accidentally) threw her off even more. "Sort of. For... the last few months. ...I need to talk to you about that."
It was hard to look at Aura; Allison wanted to curl up and hide, and it took far more effort than it should to look up instead. "Do you remember Megan?" Allison wasn't shaking, but her muscles felt way too tense. Shaking might have been easier.
