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.
He hadn’t really intended to say her name out loud. He still wasn’t completely sure where he was, so he wasn’t anxious to draw attention to the fact that he was awake. There wasn’t any point in pretending any longer. The truth of the matter is that aside from that fact that his arm seemed to be clamped in rather tightly, he was feeling pretty good at the moment. His mouth had been rather small when he’d muttered the name a moment ago, but it appeared as though conversation was in the air, so he might as well get ready for it. The corners of his lips slowly opened up his head as if invisible hooks had popped in on each side and started pulling. His mouth, previously little under an inch wide spread open to a relatively large mouth. He kept it toothless though, no need to act standoffish. As far as he could tell, this girl had done nothing to harm him.
As good as he was feeling though, he was still harnessed into some sort of restraint, and his arm was probably not in the best shape to be getting up. He was intrigued by who this doctor that she was calling in from the mansion could be. Why was he more useful then the people who had plastered his arm up? To him, laying low and enjoying a bed (a luxury he hadn’t experienced since childhood) seemed like an ideal situation for the time being.
>> "How are you feeling?"
He really wasn’t a huge fan of conversation, but he figured it was something he was going to need to adapt too, both physically and emotionally; his mouth really wasn’t consistent enough to get any kind of practice in. “I’m doing better,” He responded, the quality of his voice improved from the mutter earlier, but only marginally. “At least I assume so, I don’t really remember much of it.” Humor was something he was never very confident in, but lightening moods was always something worth aiming for; His conversations were rarely uplifting on their own. He didn’t really see any point in beating around the bush with the topic though. “So… who is this… DocProf?” He asked. If he had something to offer, he’d wait. If he didn’t, or the whole situation started to seem suspicious, he was going to start finding a way out as soon as possible.
It was his sense of sound that came back first. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t really awake, but he could hear everything in his environment: The beeps and chimes of the various machines. The distant distorted voice of a PA system paging someone he’d never heard of. The soft conversation of the various people around him. He knew he was indoors, and that there were a lot of people around. He’d never been to a hospital before though, so it wasn’t his first guess.
Hazed white was next. He squinted his eyes open a crack, only to be met by a bright light that seemed to be aimed right in his face. One of his eyes closed in retaliation to the burning sensation, but slowly He was able to inch them open further, and shapes began to come into focus. The other eye opened up again as he began to scan his surroundings. He was in a bed in a white room. There was a window, but from the view that he could make out, with was pretty high up off the ground, and he wasn’t very anxious to get too close to heights again any time soon. That’s when he remembered the fall.
His eyes darted to his arm, which he was startled to see had been covered in plaster. He assumed that that meant the bone had been broken after all. That cast wouldn’t last long though. He was actually impressed that the arm was holding up as well as it was, considering he’d been out of it for a bit. He looked around to the rest of his body, which was not looking very pleasant. A blanket had been put over most of him, presumably to cover up what would probably be a relatively unpleasant sight. If he Lost control of his powers, often his flesh would just sort of let gravity take charge, stretching out and down, looking like he was melting, exposing the bones underneath much more clearly, that was certainly the case at the moment, but the large meal he’d had not long before this all transpired must have left enough meat on his bones to keep him loosing his shape too much. He wasn’t eager to see what his face looked like though, and exposed skull certainly couldn’t be pleasant to look at. He slowly began to bring all of the flesh back to areas that it belonged. Looking at the blanket over his lower half, it almost looked as if he was being inflated.
Thump. A large book collapsed onto the table beside his bed. Somehow he’d managed to be completely oblivious to the fact that his room was being occupied by another person, who he was (pleasantly) surprised to see was the winged girl from the alley. He’d figured out that a hospital was the only possible answer for where he was, or possibly the mansion, as she had mentioned earlier, and now he could assume how it was he ended up in the bed. She was on the phone now, talking with someone, but he wasn’t really paying attention, he was trying to remember her name. Then finally, it came to him. “…Gina,” he managed to mumble out under his breath, barely audible, but still there.
With each blink of his eyes, the world seemed to become more and more hazed. Not just visually but his understanding of it as well. He was dreaming. What else could this be? There was a distinct feeling, far different from his normal blackouts this time, like he had more control of what was going on; he felt less like a bystander and more like he was taking part.
Except he wasn’t really contributing at all. He was helpless. He felt incredibly tired, and tired his best to just focus on keeping his eyes open, but even that felt like moving mountains. His head was wobbling back and forth to the rhythm of the bumps in the road. His chin bounced off his chest, and his head, no longer covered by a hat, rattled off of the window of the van. His gaze managed to stay focused out the window most of the time, looking up at the buildings as they whizzed back. There were other voices around him, but he couldn’t see where they were coming from, or make out what they were saying anymore. Truth be told, he didn’t even remember where he was.
One of the voices proceeded to make itself known. A girl climbed in beside him, grabbing at his arm. He didn’t really know why. It didn’t really seem to bother him, though, his gaze moved back to the window; the world seemed to be far more interesting out there. He couldn’t understand what was happening in the van, but what he did know was that the people behind these voices weren’t having a good time, and he didn’t want to take part of their depression. He almost felt like he was flying while the people on the street zoomed by. The only thing crushing the illusion was the feeling of his head crashing into window.
Then bam! He could feel a hand slap him across the face. It certainly woke him up a bit, but only momentarily. He certainly didn’t feel much bellow his chest, so he wasn’t able to retaliate, but he didn’t seem bothered by this, after a brief moment of attempting to make eye contact with the offender, his gaze returned to the window. The girl was yelling something into his face, but he wasn’t listening, or at least attempting not to. Something about “hearing” something he could guess, he wasn’t interested though, far more interested in the fact that the world had stopped flying by outside the glass his head rested against.
The next thing he knew, men who were lifting him onto some kind of bed, where he was surrounded on all sides. His happy bliss was slowly fading away, but his feeling was not. He looked at his own body and began to realize that it wasn’t holding its form very well, his ribs exposing themselves like he was starving. He tried to correct it, but he couldn’t get it to move, unsure if it was the men wheeling him through the doors, or something worse. His hearing was still shot, and his vision still hazy, but the terror of the situation was all too present, and a little too sudden for him to handle. People were shouting all around him as he laid his head back on the pillow beneath his head. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, so instead he opted to watch the lights above him as the ticked past. Like counting sheep, he could feel his eyes getting heavier with each one that passed by until there was just a general white haze.
Shane must have torn whatever wound it was that he had under his sleeve even further when he tried to relocate it. The blood that was dribbling down his arm seemed to have been growing in volume every minute or so, and it was certainly having it’s effect on him. As the girl ran back to him shouting something, he could barely focus on anything around him, and every sound seemed to blend together. He had caught the girls name though; Gina, she had said. He mumbled the name to himself over and over as she began to run back towards him. He was able to make out her gestures at least, even if not the words. She was clearly motioning for him to follow. She helped him up again and they worked their way to the cab, leaving a trail of blood drops all the way there.
The driver certainly didn’t appear to be thrilled with his customers, not that Shane could really tell. The obvious assumption was that two mutants in his cab would have been his problem, but in reality, his eyes continued to swing down to Shane’s jacket, stained on both the sleeve and his lap. I just had this thing cleaned, he thought to himself the entire trip, eying him with frustration through the rear view mirror every chance he could.
The entire ride, Shane was trying to keep himself conscious, but he was feeling incredibly tired. His head swayed back and forth with the road’s bumps and holes. He was looking around the cab and out the windows, but none of it was really registering, he was just trying to excite his brain. He knew that if he did pass out, there wouldn’t be much to keep him in a human form other then his clothes. Watching someone melt was probably not the kind of experience either of them was looking for. “You sure you’re friend here shouldn't be going to the hospital?” The driver asked Gina. Most of it went in one ear and right out the other though, as Shane’s eyes started to close.
This was a place Shane had heard about. Some kind of school for mutants, if his memory served him. He’d been told about it, but he’d never actually been there before. It was a place that had piqued his interest since he’d first learned about it, but ne never really had much in the way of concrete details. This was looking like it could turn into an ideal situation for some learning and discovery for him. He started to get excited, forgetting for a moment that his in to the school was a pretty serious wound.
The girl was becoming more impatient with him, it seemed. She clearly wasn’t very impressed with his claims of good health, and her tone began to reflect that of a mother dealing with a difficult child. It’s never ideal to realize that you are acting like a difficult child, and Shane was no exception. She was trying her best to help him, and he wasn’t making it easy for her. He decided from that point on he would try his best to behave. Of course, being wounded was just the kind of situation that could easily bring out the animal in him.
She mentioned briefly that they would need a ride, yet another thing to add to the list of events today that he had never experienced before, or at the very least, not in a long time. He stood himself back up again as the girl loosened her grip on his good arm. As he climbed back up to his full height, he looked down on the girl, eyeing her wings in particular. He didn’t really believe it was a possibility, but he tried his best to remain optimistic that by ride she meant flying there. Motioning him to stay put, the girl released her grip entirely and began to jog towards the entrance of the alleyway. Shane rested his back against the brick wall, trying to relax a bit and catch his breath. His hat was a quite a few meters ahead of him, but he’d figured out by this point that trouble seemed to come every time he tried to walk through the alley. Forming his good arm into a whip of sorts, he extended it out the full distance, his weak arm shriveling up under his sleeve, out of view. The long tentacle grabbed hold of the baseball cap and reeled itself in.
Placing the hat back on his head, he looked back to the girl, now out on the sidewalk whistling towards the street. “Hey, what’s your name?” he called to her. Perhaps this wasn’t the most ideal time for pleasantries, and maybe yelling wasn’t the best way to exchange them, but for some reason, he wanted to just keep talking. He felt himself sliding down along the brick, slightly diagonally. The puddle of blood that had gathered on the ground beside him grown rather big.
He really didn’t know why, but he absolutely refused to be taken to a hospital. As far as he knew, he’d never been to one, but some voice in his head just kept telling him that he needed to stay away from them at all costs. He’d never been one to ignore instincts or voices in his head, he didn’t see any reason he needed to start now, pride was important, right?
The girl, logically, opened up with a hospital proposal. He responded with a sound that seemed to rest firmly in the middle of a sigh and a groan. She was quick to add the question “Are you alright with hospitals?" possibly in response to his whining, or simply because she could anticipate his lack of interest. In either case, he certainly wasn’t going to have any of it. Once again he stood up, the girls hands on his good arm. Her help was appreciated, but unnecessary he kept telling himself, he was fine. I just need to eat something, that’ll fix me right up, he thought. He didn’t really believe it would, but hoped he might be able to convince himself if he said it enough.
“No, no. Really, I’m fine” he assured her. His tone was even less convincing then it had been before, and he knew it. There was audible pain in it now, and he couldn’t hide it anymore. He was going to be shocked if she bought it. But the look on her face spelled out that she didn’t. The racket they were making was starting to look as though it was drawing eyes. The street really wasn’t all that busy, but the few people who were walking by were beginning to look down the alley towards them, and they certainly must have been an unusual sight. He was sure he could hear their whispering from where he was.
The sleeve of his wounded arm was beginning to show signs of bloodstains seeping through around his shoulders. He tried to twist his arms shape a bit to move the wound further down the arm away from the main bulk of his body. Yet again though, this proved to be both a poor idea, as well as an incredibly painful one. He abandoned the idea before the effects could become obvious, only sliding the wound down a few inches. Once again, he was left wearing the signs of his agony all over his face. Swallowing his pride, he looked to the girl, still supporting him. “No hospitals. What else do you have to offer?”
It was hard to deny that Shane often forgot that he wasn’t invincible. He made a point to generally avoid conflicts he couldn’t win, and he when he did get wounded, a few meals was usually enough to cycle him back to a fresh outer layer. Hell, even a little bit of impact damage didn’t seem to be all that bad. It had been a while since he’d really done any major inner damage, but right now, he was nervous he might have broken his arm. Even he sometimes forgot that there were bones stored away in there. He rarely needed them, his body just kind of operated independently of them most of the time. As little use as they were though, clearly they still hurt, a lot, and he imagined that setting a bone couldn’t be easy when it’s floating around inside a ball of goo, more or less.
The girl was on to him now though. What ever it was that she was looking for in her bag was no longer an issue apparently, and she was looking right at him. She had attempted a joke (presumably to lighten the mood), though it seemed more then a little forced to him. He was a little disappointed to see that she wasn’t as excited and intrigued to see him as he was to see her. Mutants probably weren’t as uncommon a sight for her as it was for him. She did seem to have genuine concern for him though.
“How hurt are you?” she asked him. Truth be told, he didn’t know, but he was certain he’d never felt pain quite like this any other time prior to his trip to New York. Since he’d arrived, he’d been shot at, electrocuted, and now possibly broken a bone or two from a fall. He missed the woods. Some measure of pride took hold of him though, and he refused to show his pain n the surface. Once again he tried to stand up.
“I’m fine, just a little bruised.” He responded. His voice lacked some it’s usual coarseness and rasp, which he was thankful for. If the girl wasn’t all that thrilled with his appearance, having every word growled out at her wasn’t going to improve things. He started to walk down from his trash pile, trying to force a smile at the girl watching him intently with a highly skeptical face. His footing clearly was not on his side today though, and a piece of trash slipped out from under his foot, throwing his balance and sending him toppling down, face first into the ground in front of the little winged girl. There was no way for him to hide his pain after the groan he let out as a result of that fall.
At first he thought he might have blacked out. It happened on occasion after he would consume a new meal. Though usually they would lead to some kind of dream, or memory, or some kind of hallucination. But this time, all he could see was a bright light. He squinted as he tried to make out what it was, lifting his arm to try and shield his eyes. Pain shot all throughout his arm. Everything seemed to snap together after that.
He’d never fallen from that high before. He’d taken a few tumbles out of trees, and he’d even slipped off of a few other roofs since he’d arrive in the city, but never from that high up. Luckily he was only up a few stories when he fell; otherwise this pain in his arm could be something far, far worse. He wasn’t in any rush to get up, so he began checking that he could move. His right arm was spoken for; definitely injured. Everything else seemed to be in pretty reasonable shape though, all things considered. Hw was actually relieved to see that he’d managed to stay in a relatively human state. Often when he would lose focus on maintaining the shape, he would revert to a basic blob. But this time the few rags he was wearing seemed to have keep him in the same basic shape.
That’s when he felt someone kicking his foot. He wasn’t quite hearing everything that was going on, everything around him seemed distant and quiet, and his vision was only just starting to clear up, but the sharp voice of a girl asking “Sir?” cut right through, bringing him back to reality at last. He looked up at the source, shocked to see that it was none other then the winged girl from earlier. The situation had improved moderately if it was another mutant who had found him. He couldn’t handle it if some member of the mundane had found him like this, weak and wounded.
She was digging through her bag and hadn’t noticed that he was looking directly at her. He thought to himself that if he wanted to get away without her noticing, this would be the only time that it would even be possible. Shifting some extra mass to his legs, he attempted to pop himself up in the pile of trash he was currently residing in. His arm didn’t agree with this plan of action, however, and sent waves of pain coursing through his body. Now on his knees clutching his shoulder, he let out a wince that bordered on a growl; some blend of pain and anger. His attention turned back to the girl, who was now looking him right in the eyes.
And she was on the move; finally he could enjoy himself a little bit! There was no excitement standing around observing a stationary target. When he’s hunting, a stationary target usually is a sign that it’s time to move in for the kill. Today was a slightly different occasion though. He’d had a wonderful catch the previous night that had pumped up his size to a level he hadn’t reached since he first arrived in the city. He felt good, and he wanted to celebrate by going out and seeing the city. Once he got out though, he quickly remembered why he didn’t do so often. It was late in the afternoon, a time of day he was not entirely familiar with, and he was finding the people to be a little more then he could handle, so he did what he did best, he climbed, and he stayed out of sight.
People watching had become a bit of a hobby for him as of late. He’d only recently learned that mutation wasn’t such a rarity, and that there were in fact other mutants out and about walking the streets. He would look for them every once in a while, hoping to spot one, not really know what he would do when he finally did. He could never know though. No one else ever looked like him. If he was looking at mutants, he could never tell which ones they were apart from the crowds of the mundane.
Today had been a break from tradition though. A girl with wings and a tail had landed near where he had been perched and headed down towards the building he now knew as “The Sanctuary.” He’d planted himself across the street from the girl and watched as she admired the architecture of the building. He was impressed with her confidence to just walk out among the crowds of passers-by. He still couldn’t do it. She lingered for what he had thought to be a rather long time, and he began to assume that she was waiting for someone, so he was a little disappointed when she finally lifted her gaze from the gates and continued on her way still alone. However, he was relieved to finally be on the move. Aimless people-watching is acceptable when the people you’re looking at are always on the move – a stationary target can begin to get dull.
So he followed her for a few blocks, admiring her willingness to be seen in public. He wasn’t surprised by she the looks she was receiving from the people that passed her, but she truly didn’t seem to be bothered by it. This was impressive to Shane; he sure as hell couldn’t handle that.
By this point the girl had crossed the street over to his side of the road, and the sidewalk traffic had died down a fair bit. He couldn’t help himself from thinking like a hunter again, and the fact that this would be an ideal time to prepare for a strike. In his mind he began to get lost in the different ways that he could set himself up for a strike, deciding that lying in wait at the mouth of one of the up coming alleyways pulling her into the dark would make for the best strategy. He managed to snap himself out of his haze however, remembering that he still didn’t know if that was the direction he wanted to take this interaction in, assuming there would be one at all.
Unfortunately for him though, his over thinking of everything would prove to be his downfall. He had been far to focused on the girl below him that he hadn’t been paying enough attention to the rooftops ahead of him, and one misstep on an uneven surface sent him toppling down into a alleyway only steps behind the winged girl. His fall had been padded by the trash that filled the alley, but he was far from fine, and the noise that this trash pile had generated was excessive, to say the least.
It was beginning to seem as though arguing with this man was pretty pointless. He clearly wasn’t afraid of Shane. Hell, he didn’t even seem phased by him. Shane’s presence barely seemed to have any effect of this man’s life one-way or another. It’s exactly what he had wanted when he first came out here for the night. This exact thing; to be accepted for what he was without being thought to be a monster. This man was giving him exactly that. And yet here he was, completely unsatisfied with that. Clearly he had become far too used to being hated, he was actually starting to expect, and possibly even want it. That’s kind of screwed up, he thought to himself.
In this realization, he slumped back down into the seat, letting his rear slide forward on the bench. He flipped his head back and stared up at the sky, realizing how much he missed the stars. It’s not the kind of thing you this about if you never get used to them being there every night. To him, they feel like a bit of a missing friend in the nighttime. Like someone who should be there to support him had abandoned their post. He let out a long sigh of relief as he switched his face back to its typical human shape. Up until this moment he had so many different emotions swelling up inside his body that he hadn’t known how to react to anything. Now, however, there was just the two: embarrassment and curiosity.
The stranger had mentioned Xavier’s, a name he’d heard before - in passing – relating to mutants in some way. He didn’t know much about it, in fact he may have learned more about it from those two sentences he’d just heard now then from most of the other conversations he’d overheard up until that point. Xavier's Sister School for the Gifted he called it. Right there he’d learned that it was a school, and that there was another one. Sometimes it’s amazing how much you can learn about something just from hearing a full name.
He turned to look back at the stranger again, though with far less confidence then before. “What do you know about Xavier’s?” he asked, hoping to move the conversation away from his clear defeat in this stand off before it had a chance to develop. Besides, if he knew about Xavier's, maybe he knew a fair bit about mutants as well.
