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.
Adirondack Park. One of the largest forests in North America. Certain areas are completely untouched by humanity, letting the wildlife live free without any kind of outside threat. And that was just the way Shane liked it.
He’d run away from home when he was a teenager, that much he knew. However, shortly after his mutation first began manifesting itself his memories started getting all jumbled up and he had a hard time remembering entire events. His memories were fragmented. Once in a while he’d get pieces back in dreams, but they were few and far between, and he had no way of knowing if they were real.
After a rough stint in the city, suffering persecution and fear for his appearance, Shane started heading north. Hiding on trains and the backs of trucks, we worked his way a few hours north of “home,” settling in one of the few places his memories hadn’t failed him, this park. When he was younger, his father would bring him there to camp, and learn the skills of a true survivalist. If his father were still here, by this age he would have taken him out hunting for the first time. Shane had been looking forward to going on one of his father’s hunting trips for years. Wanting to carry on his legacy, Shane took it up as a full career once he got to Adirondack, living off the land and hunting for his food from the day he arrived.
Hanging from a tree, he watched over his prey, a relatively young deer, though quite large and still equipped with a set of antlers. This one had been foolish enough to wander off from the rest of the herd, a foolish mistake for any of the creature in this forest to make. Slithering a long, snake-like body out across the tree branch above the stag, he began to position himself for the strike.
It had been a few days since he’d last eaten so he was beginning to dwell on the smaller side of the BMI, but he was far from an unhealthy point, at least as far as he could tell from past experiences. Deer had become his target of choice over the last few months. The time between meals was cut down significantly from their size so long as he relaxed between meals, which was all he ever wanted to do. With the size of this one, he would be able to relax for at least 2-3 days before he’s need to venture out into the wilderness again.
Waiting until it lowered its head to go for a bite to eat, Shane dropped down from the tree, landing right on the unsuspecting deer’s head. He quickly warped his body completely around the creature’s head, weighing it down so it couldn’t stand up and preventing any noise from escaping. Kicking out sporadically at first, the deer slowing down its resistance over a few minutes as it suffocated. Shane extended a limb out, wrapping it around the deer’s abdomen and squeezing like a snake to speed the process along. After about 4 minutes or so, the deer had completely stopped moving.
He stood up over it, took a deep breath and took in the size of his catch. He’d already lost a few pounds from the scuffle, but it was nothing compared to his first attempts at chasing his prey. By this point he’d figured out how to let gravity do as much of the work as possible. He examined his surroundings to make sure no scavengers were around. There was no point in moving the kill; it would just exert him more to drag something of that size. He’d do the deed here.
Next came the part Shane had still not gotten used to. The hunt, and even the kill were something that he had built up and prepared for in his mind his entire life. But this, the consumption that his mutation desired – or rather required – was something he just couldn’t find a taste for.
He covered the entire creature and extended a giant mouth-like opening around the deer’s whole body. Taking the stag in, he could feel the tingling feeling surge through his entire body. The tingling was the nice part. It was the feeling of his cells anticipating their growth and expansion, and it felt like a celebration coursing through his veins. Then come the cramps. Snapping and creaking with an all too frequent bubbling sound, his body began expanding as it broke down the deer in moments while simultaneously expanding his body outward. Every single time he felt like a baking soda and vinegar volcano was exploding under his skin, bubbling up and up.
After close to 5 minutes, the deed was done. Shane rested there patiently; his fresh skin usually needed a minute or two to solidify a bit, generally staying a little on the goopy side at first. Staring off into the sunset, he let his heart rate slow right down, almost falling asleep. Once satisfied that all of the precautions had been taken care of, he stood us, trying to find his balance with his now twice as large body as he stumbled towards his home.
Pushing past an incredibly dense section of bushes, he popped out the other side and smiled at his poorly constructed, though incredibly personal shack, hidden away in all directions from view. Today had been a huge success, and he was going to spend what was left of it relaxing.
“And there it was, movin’ all ‘round me, circling like a vulture! I figured I was done-for for-sure. Black as the night he was, too. I couldn’t see him sometimes if he went into the dark. ‘Least I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for his eyes. They were glowing white, and brightly. I couldn’t take my own eyes off of them, and he kept his on me!”
Albert was famous for his stories, least as famous as you cold get in a place like this. He had a pretty hefty collection, and told them pretty well. Hell, if he wanted, he could probably write them down and sell them ‘round the town. He’d never go for it though. It was their faces he loved. There was something about seeing all the boys gathered ‘round, all eyes on him, focused on what he had to say; that’s what he loved.
And the rest of them loved it too. All the men in the diner were hanging on his every word as he recounted his famous campfire tale, “The Adirondack Shade.” Sure, it lacked the humour of the “Highway 35 UFO,” or the sadness of the “Weeping Wendigo of Cree Lake,” but the Shade was one of the fan favourites.
“What happened next?” asked a particularly concerned looking kid, currently standing, pacing back and forth, unable to keep his nerves stationary any longer. The diner was a pretty common stage for Albert’s theatrics. After school, it was a relatively common place for the kids to wander over to. The younger ones that really wanted to believe in the supernatural flocked to hear if he’d had learned any new ones, and once and a while would request the certain “hall of famers.”
Of course, his legacy wasn’t exactly all positive feedback. Many parents weren’t very big supporters of a “crazy old man polluting the minds of their children.” The small town was heavily Christian, and as a result, did not respond well to the ideas of supernatural talk, or talk of UFOs, or whatever other monster was haunting the city and it’s surrounding areas that week.
Love him or hate him though, he was without a doubt a sensation.
“I’ll tell you what happened next. I picked up my gun and I started firing away at the beast.” A soft “wow” spread throughout the crowd.
“Did you kill it?”
“Course not. You can’t kill a shade; it’s long dead by that point. The sound must’a scared it off though. As soon as the shots were fired, I didn’t them eyes any more. They just disappeared.” Looking around at his collection of 5 kids, all of them looking a little unfulfilled. “Of course, they only disappeared then. Ever since that fateful day, I often see those same, horrible eyes staring at me out of the dark, wherever I may be.” Now they were getting the look he was aiming for.
“He’s watching over me, for what I don’t know. But one thing I am certain of is this. Now that you now about him, he’ll be watching over you as well.”
The kids all looked to one another with uncomfortable smiles, each trying to pretend that this idea didn’t bother them, but it was clear that the boggy man in the closet tonight would have a name tonight.
“Ok, you’ve had your fun, now order something or beat it” Beth, the waitress snidely interjected. She always hassled Albert every time he came in, always holding off on spending any money for as long as possible. Really though, everyone knew her and everyone else in the diner had no issues with him just hanging out. He unquestionably brought business to their little dive.
“Just a coffee, Beth.” He turned back around to look at the faces of the kids, still hanging around. You guys ought’a get outta here before old Beth here throws you out herself. ‘Sides, you don’t want to linger anywhere too long, otherwise the Shade will have an easier time locking his gaze on you.” The kids all exchange an acknowledging gaze with one another, then grab their things and take off running.
Across the diner sat two men, dressed up far more formally then most folks in that area. As the kids ran past, the two of them exchanged a look, then stood up, walking towards Albert.
“Excuse me, sir, but we couldn’t help but overhear your story” the taller of the two men opened up. Untrusting of the two strangers, Albert kept quiet. He’d had his fair share of run ins with upset parents, and wasn’t looking forward to another one. Sensing that something along those lines may be the issue, the shorter man clears his throat and exchanges another look with his partner.
“My name is William Thomas. My associate and I have an interest in this “Shade” of yours, and we were curious if you could answer us a few questions about it. Namely, have you ever actually laid eyes of the… creature?”
“You guys with the FBI or something?” Albert asked, his interest level skyrocketing from 0 to 10 in an instant. Meeting with living Men in Black would be his greatest dream coming true.
“Heavens no.” He Laughed. “We’re researchers looking to write an entry on this Shade in a future installment of a book we are writing.“ “It’s about unsolved mysteries!” exclaimed the taller man, clearly eager to get the message across.
Albert looked at the two men with curiosity, as well as interest. Raising an eyebrow, his face straightens out. “I ain’t no liar. Every one of my stories is fact. I’ve seen the creature, and I’ll never forget those white eyes staring back at me from the shadows.”
The two men look to each other with an approving glance. “We were wondering then, if it would be possible for you to lead us out into the woods to the place where you encountered it for the first time. We hope to gather some photographic evidence there.”
Albert looks back at Beth, now handing him his coffee. She hands him a worried expression, followed by a glare in the direction of William. Albert sighed, torn between the excitement of his story reaching such a wide audience and the prospect of going back out there again.
“What you’re looking for is The Hut.” Albert finally sighs out.
“The Hut?” William asked, lacking confidence for the first time since he began to speak. “What’s that?”
Albert leans in towards the two researchers. “If you want to find this Shade, that is the place to look.” Then he leans back, and between sips of coffee, blurts out. “I can show you where it is, for a price. But I ain’t stepping foot on its property. I don’t want to ever see them eyes again.”
William and his associate exchange nods, then look back to Albert. “Great, what say we make a deal, hmmm?”
Character's full name: Shane Marksmith Alias: Shade Gender: Male Age: Unknown Place of origin: New York
Appearance
Hair color and style: Hairless Eyes: White, sometimes a very pale grey Height: Varies, average 6’ Build: Varies, generally slightly overweight Visible mutation: Extremely dark skin, almost black, inconsistent form Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Black markings around eyes Miscellaneous clothing: Rough/beaten up coat and hat. Ripped jeans, boots falling apart (looks pretty homeless)
Character
Personality: With a short temper and significant trust issues, Shane is far from a model citizen. Living away from humanity has done serious damage to his personality, resulting in him acting as a wounded animal would in most situations: scared and defensive. However, Shane doesn’t have an evil soul. Remorse is an emotion that he is constantly dealing with, regretting every act of violence he has ever made (to various degrees). He wants to do better, but half of the time, he ends up feeling like he can’t control his own actions. He often has a hard time getting a grip on reality. That being said, he has found himself addicted to the taste of blood, and although he has only just recently killed a human for the first time, he wasn’t as horrified by the outcome as he had anticipated he would be.
Special talents: Stealth, Hunting, Wilderness survival.
Morality
Neutral, leaning towards evil: Shane isn’t all that familiar with the way society functions. Spending years alone, away from people, he hasn’t had much experience with them. He sits firmly in the middle of wanting to be accepted as one of them and despising them for the way they treated him when the mutation first took off. He does have the capacity to begin to drift into the negatives though, and is not above killing for his own preservation, he’s hunted most of his life to survive; relocating to New York won’t remove that part of him very quickly.
Mutations
Mutation Cole’s Notes: Shane’s body acts like a giant ball of clay*; he is able to mold his body into any shape he wants. When he changes shape, he needs to move the mass from one part of his body to another. He can increase his total mass by eating, and he loses mass by fighting. The bigger he is, the less control he has of his power and his mind.
*Just felt I should point out that he is not actually made of clay. Clay just seemed like a good analogy for the power.
Mutation Extended Description (super long, sorry): This is a simple concept that might be hard to grasp right away. Shane’s body functions like a giant ball of clay. He’s able to “mold” it in almost any way he wants by moving the mass of his body around and forming the shapes that best fit his needs. (Example: If Shane wanted to make his hand grow or stretch out, he needs to take that extra mass from somewhere else on his body, like his other hand, or a leg for example. He’s basically moving the mass from one part to another.) Using his powers drains him however; in the sense that he burns through this moldable flesh the way someone burns through fat when they exercise. His metabolism requires him to constantly be eating (often other living things) in order to use his power, which is always. Shane doesn’t have a specific form, so simply appearing in a human physique requires a passive use of his power. Battles burn through his skin faster then anything else. As he burns through his flesh, he physically shrinks in mass. If left without food, he would eventually just wither away. The opposite it true as well, in that he can gorge himself in order to gain mass. This gorging also allows for a moderate degree of healing momentarily while his body is growing and changing, (sitting around a 3 on the healing speed chart). In both cases, deviating away from his natural size has psychological effects on him, as mentioned above. In that sense, he kind of acts like a balloon with a leak in it. You can blow it up as big as you want, but it will keep shrinking regardless, and it becomes less stable if it gets too big, or too small.
Limits: The larger Shane becomes, the more difficult it is for him to control his power. In addition to the lowered mental stability, it is physically exhausting for him to maintain his size (the equivalent of hanging very heavy weights all over your body). In the reverse situation, if Shane goes a while without eating, he will shrink, which will enable him more control over his power, but he will have far less of it to work with. His size is also relevant to speed that he uses up his power. The larger he gets, the less time he can expect to stay that size. In his normal state, he can physically exert himself for 20 minutes before collapsing. If he was twice as large, it would take him half as long to get to that same point (10 minutes). It doesn’t work in reverse here though. If he’s already weakened he can’t run a marathon for 40 minutes, he’s just weak. Finally, for clarity, I define physical exertion as anything that would make you sweat. Heat has the same effect on him as actually using his power. If he’s in a sauna, his shrinking rate is twice as high.
Strengths: He has the ability to become a huge beast for a limited amount of time. Can manipulate his body almost anyway he wants. His flesh grows back as long as he eats again.
Weaknesses: Requires food very regularly to stay sane/alive. Cannot last long in a fight. He does have most of a basic human anatomy under all this moving flesh, which is vulnerable (Brain, skull, heart, spine, lungs, mutated digestive system, etc…). Not the strongest mental stability. Heat speeds the entire “shrinking” process along. Wounds stay the same size, regardless of his size. Therefore, as he shrinks, his wounds become more critical.
Fighting Style
Explanation: N/A Shane doesn’t know how to fight. He is skilled in being stealthy and tracking prey, but has little experience in direct combat. Pros for fighting style: He’s good at sneaking up on you and making you crap your pants when he does. Cons for fighting style: He’s not very disciplined after that point.
Faction Allegiance Unaffiliated
History Of Your Character: Shane doesn’t remember much of his past. He had a fairly normal childhood with a loving family. His relationship with his father was especially strong. In his early teens he began to develop what at the time was assumed to be some kind of bizarre skin condition, but later revealed itself to be his mutation. Beginning with the colour of his skin darkening and the loss of his hair, his skin slowly began to become more elastic and less solid. Sleeping often, and eating whenever he was awake for several weeks, it wasn’t until almost a month after the disease had first manifested itself that Shane was able to control his skin independently of the rest of his body. Showing no signs of going back to normal, Shane ran away from home. It’s around this age that his memories begin to get hazy. Mainly just a mixture of images and sounds jumbled up together. Whatever the events that took place though, the final result was him being driven from civilization where he came to rest in a distant forest, miles north of New York. Spending years alone in the wilderness, he became as master hunter, climbing to the top of the food chain, as well as inspire a few urban legends in the surrounding area. Recently, however, Shane has longed to connect with humanity again. Living as an animal was only making him into the beast that the people he encountered had feared, and he did not want to be that person any longer, or so he believes…
Roleplay Where did you learn about this site?: Google Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: N/A Sample RP:
The wind was whistling quite loud that night. The strong breeze was sending newspapers rocking into the air, only to get caught in the trees. But following such a humid day, the heavy breeze felt good. It had been a hot day, one for the record books. You could tell that a storm was coming, but for now the cool breeze made this evening ideal in the park.
Perched above them all, Shane laid motionless along an outstretched tree branch, his slim build blending into the dark shadows of the night. It had been days since he’d eaten a real meal, and he’d been slowly wearing away. Plant life may be in abundance in this park, but it just doesn’t bring the same level of fulfillment that the hunt does.
Below him, he can hear the familiar sound of paws tapping on the asphalt path. Lowering his head down to the lowest branches on the tree, he can see a large, Black Labrador eagerly walking up the path. His owner, a young girl, probably in her early 20s, nonchalantly follows behind him. Leash in hand, it’s drawn out to its maximum length.
Shane quietly slithers down the opposite side of the tree, coming to a stop in a large, leafy bush at the base of the trunk. Extending a small tentacle-like arm along the cool grass, he positions the tip of it facing directly it up into the air where he begins to move it in a worm-like fashion. Less then 50 meters away, he waits like a patient fisherman. His eyes constantly moving back and forth from his target to his bait.
As the pair approach, the dog spots the bait. Curiously wandering towards it, he pauses for a moment at the loud chime of a cell phone going off.
“Hello?” The girl answers in an exhausted voice. The dog immediately loses interest in her and focuses back on the mysterious object in front of him – only to discover it has moved to the edge of a bush. With a tilt of his head, his curiosity gets the better of him, and he pokes his nose into the bush to determine the source.
“”I’m just out walking the dog,” the girl says between yawns. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out when I get home.” Feeling the line reach it’s end, the girl starts pulling on the leash. “Marco, let’s go!” she yells. No response.
Yanking on the leash one more time, the elastic comes flying back at her, wrapping up inside it’s handle with no collar or dog a the other end. Rushing over the tree he’d been sniffing around, the girl franticly starts calling out his name.
“Marco!”
A few drops of rain started to fall with a low rumble of thunder in the distance. Draped on a tree branch high above her laid a dog’s collar with the name Marco printed on it. Both the dog and Shane nowhere to be found.
