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.
Say we wanted to have Miles, Liz and Celeste (if she were in the mansion) to participate in a club thread? We come up with the exercise or mission idea on Cbox and have them play it off for extra credit, despite them having completely different powers. That way, we don't constrict ourselves to specific mutants being in specific clubs and the exercises could be varied, from having them all working together to solve a situation or problem to having them all compete, using their powers in creative ways, to solve a problem on their own.
I always imagined the mansion as a place to interact with other mutants and as a place to train and learn to control your abilities but aside from the generic training in the Danger Room, there is not a lot of learning of control involved. And since there are a lot of requirements for the DR ( IC permission, certain age limit or an X-men in training to supervise), most players tend to ignore it. So I suggest creating school clubs for students to assist to extra classes or some sort of clubs for people with a similar power to help them. The teaching in these clubs will be done by players in order to interact with other players with a similar interest/mutation. It does not need to be a serious class to learn how to use your power but a place for people with similar mutations to exchange ideas, advices or as someone suggested in the Cbox, to play games you can’t play with the rest of the school. (Quidditch without brooms for flying mutants)
Possible clubs: Flying mutants (improve your flying and landing abilities), shape shifters club, small mutants and their advantages (for those little mutants that may need a little self-esteem boost), sew your own clothes (for those with wings and tails!)
Of course these ideas need a lot of participation from the players but it could lead to a lot of RPing for old and new players alike.
Celeste tried to calm down but failed, hope fading quickly from her, she was breathing heavily and her eyes were clouded with tears yet she tried to calm down once again. She needed to find a way to deal with that situation without giving the impression of being a little girl but there was nothing else to do. The woman had absolute control over her life. Celeste knew it, and she hated it but since she could not do anything else, she kept crying until the sonorous sobbing gave way to silent tears.
She listened carefully for a hint that could help her dissuade the woman from doing that but her adamantine resolution did not give Celeste any chance of replying back. So she did as she say and moved pass the kitchen door into the living room. As she walked toward the main door of the bunker, tears continued to roll down her pale cheeks but all the same her eyes displayed an unlimited hatred.
She stopped at the big doors, the doors that protected her for long that now where about to throw her to the outside world. Celeste hesitated a moment, then started the arduous task of turning the heavy wheel to release the locks on the door. With the vault door unlocked and wide open, the sand and dust from the outside started to get inside, bumping inside her nose and throat in their way in. She coughed heavily, her throat and eyes highly irritated by the dust. Where these the remains of other people? Still, she feared the gun much more than the blazing sun that hit her skin and at least she could walk away with an ounce of dignity if she followed her instructions. Maybe she could even walk through the wasteland to find the bone fortress and ask for help. It sounded like a good plan on her mind but when gazed the endless nothingness, she knew it was just a childish fantasy. It was the end.
She waited in silence, her heart beating wildly inside her tiny chest while she tried to stay still. Celeste was expecting him to ask about the unnatural color in the fabric or to accuse her of performing acts of witchcraft but luckily the human seemed to be oblivious of what really happened with that small colorless triangle. He pointed Celeste in the direction of the gray fabric, as if she needed another source of lifeless gray objects aside from her powers; she nodded slowly preparing herself to move away from that boy before he could discover what she really did with the color of the fabric...
But before she could move away from that place, he insulted her in the most hideous way possible. The blood rushed to her cheeks immediately to paint them with crimson as the anger in her chest grew bigger; she could feel the heat of her own blood irradiating from her skin to the point it was unbearable. The girl wanted to scream at him for saying that, to scream with enough fury to tear his eardrums and drown his brain in blood. Instead, she stomped away while repeating mentally the mean phrase he dared to pronounce. “So I am not anything special...” All the while murmuring with fury how wrong he was and how sorry he will be. ”I will show how special I am”. The words echoed in her mind accompanying her all the way to the “grey corridor”. Almost at the end of the corridor where the grey started to melt into different shades of darker colors, she found was she was looking for. A nasty shade of brown that looked exactly the way mug would look like.
Maxine´s words were a revelation. Not only she found that the future she witnessed “happened” to more people but she also discovered that there was another shared dream in the past. A different future that never became true. That was the ray of hope she was looking for since she woke up from the dream, with that sentence her fellow queen confirmed what she needed to know, that the future can be changed and was not going to happen again. One apocalypse is enough. But at the same time her words created so many questions… who was behind the first shared dream? Could it be that the same person was responsible for the second dream too? Clearly she needed to investigate a little more about that previous “future”… later, now she was at a party with people she missed so much during the time she needed to plan that gathering. Celeste nodded politely at Maxine´s revelation while trying hard to not reveal how much her words affected her.
It was not easy to maintain her curiosity at bay but soon the conversation moved toward the gorgeous gifts she gave to the other queen. Italian shoes were her favorites since pretty much every shoe from that marvelous country was as close as perfection as a shoe can be. Not to mention, she had Italian blood in her veins… that put her the closest to perfection a human can be, right? It was a shame Rex was not there to thank her in person for its gift but at least she do not have to stare at his weird physiology during the party. With that “costume” he would not need to be naked in her presence again.
The Celeste from the present would not allow a hug such as the one Maxine gave her, even if it was a display of affection between two friends divided for a long time… fortunately Celeste learned a few things from the time she spent in the bunker and the bonds she created there, so she gladly hugged Maxine back with all her might. She was so happy to be surrounded by these people that shared that cruel dream with her that she did not even care about the giant lizard walking around. Of course, Venus was as good a deterrent as a nuclear bomb so if something went wrong, the red brothers would have to get their hands dirty. It was not something she was hoping for… but she was glad to count on them for body-guarding duties.
Was Miles the slave Maxine promised to her? She could not remember his name properly… what should she care to learn the name of a slave in the first place? Fortunately before Celeste could start plotting to bring slaves back to servitude, a very familiar voice dragged her back to reality. Could it be…? She turned around toward the place where the voice came from, her ivory dress dancing with her, it was her! Following Maxine´s example, Celeste moved toward Sarah to welcome her with a big hug. “Sarah!” Oh god, she missed Sarah so much. She was like a big sister to her… even when she put poor Sarah to cook for the four of them. “Of course I am.” She said in a cheerfully manner, keeping the second part for herself. “I am rich.” Proof that she was eating right was that her skin was even more beautiful than before and since the outside world was not polluted with radiation, she was going to the park often to maintain her natural skin color, contrary to the sickly pale tone she wore during the dream. “I missed you!” She exclaimed while still hugging her. It was so good to see her again that the queen even forget about the promised slave. Of course, she missed the people she met “there” but she did not notice how much until she met Sarah again.
The heat of her sincerity attack was still on her cheeks, burning her perfect skin with her own boiling blood when the cat boy spoke again in that same annoying poetic tone. She listened each of his words carefully as someone that does not really trust what the other is saying but this time he was telling the truth. She was like the sun, oh yes, a destructive force needed by each living being. Without her “light” the world would crumble into oblivion. And of course, he was also right because her sincerity could dazzle people as much as her beauty and modesty.
She listened. He was really good at sweetening words but his logic was wrong and she was willing to make him notice his mistake. “You admit to be unworthy of a token of my “light”…” She pronounced the last word as if it were an ancient word, full of meaning and magic. It kind of reminded her about her own powers and the mystery of why she was able to steal colors. Was it possible because of some unknown light bending ability? Or was it something different? She continued speaking while trying very hard to avoid rhyming like him. “Yet, you dare to touch my hand.” But even after these words, she extended her hand toward the mutant to close the deal. It was too easy that it was probably another of his tricks but she was too busy savoring the imminent victory to pay attention to these silent alarms. In her mind he was already flying too close to the sun so there was no way to lose, and he was about to burn for his boldness. At least his feline heredity would help that twisted version of Icarus to land on his feet.
The touch of her hand was more disgusting than the regular caress of the revolver on her head but she was smart enough to do not say it. She nodded slowly to let her know that she was going to give her the bottle, and then turned around to hand her the precious container. It was not like in the old movies they all used to watch where you could dodge a bullet at close range and smash the nearest bottle or chair on the enemy´s head in a single action.
“Walk outside…” The girl mechanically repeated as it the echo in her head could clarify what the robber really mean with those words. When she managed to decipher the message, her heart drowned in awe. “No…” Suddenly her voice was transformed into a weak and thin thread. “You can’t…” She was smart, so she knew the woman could oblige her to do almost everything, even to go outside but she wanted to believe otherwise. The temperature in the inside was carefully regulated, the air purifier worked constantly to provide clean air to breathe and the thick concrete walls protected her from the radiation and deadly dust from the outside… and now she was going to leave her refuge… to die in the wasteland. “Please.” She pled with tears rolling down her pale cheeks. “Take it…” She continued sobbing loudly between words. “Take whatever you want but do not make me go outside.”
A contradictory mix of feelings such as confusion, fear and relief dominated her mind. The energetic knife produced by the woman did not kill or wound her but her courage had suffer really heavy damage to the point where she knew she would not try to escape anymore. It was just impossible to run away from that pink shadow or from his absurdly long tail even if she ran as fast as she can. Does that mean that she was giving up? How could she give up when her life was at stake? She was so scared that she did not complaint when the red man moved her closer to his arms in a protective way. It was also a way to restrict her movement to oblige her to walk to the door and do her magic, but she was glad to have that feeling of safety even when she knew it was false.
Once she caught up her breathing enough to start walking, she moved along with the two mutants while focusing on his words. If she desired to get away unharmed she needed to do everything he say. Returning the color to the door was an easy task, If not for her erratic breathing and her confused state of mind. She will fail several times before accomplishing to create a small circle of golden instead of the expanding liquid ink that she needed to cover the whole door. Time was also a factor to consider, it will take all her neurons working together to focus enough to do it in one pulse. Would be wise to stay quiet or to announce her current weaknesses and pray for mercy? She decided on the second. “I need absolute concentration to do it.” She stated with fear while hoping both of them will get the idea why she would not be able to concentrate fully. It was not the same to do it in the quietness of night and willingly than to be commanded to do it.
The woman was dangerous. It was too risky to ignore her pseudo question or inquiries so she replied as quickly as she could. “I wanted to know if you were doing what I asked.” She stated with feigned innocence. She already knew they were doing what she asked because of the multiple employees she had sent to spy on them. What she really wanted to see was how much they were suffering while serving cakes, certainly it was not something she wanted to do, so she expected them to be angry or annoyed by the task. Unfortunately they were enjoying the free giveaway much more than she could have expected. Why were they so happy about working all day for free? There was something strange there.
Of course it mattered. It was not the same to be tricked by a human being of a similar intellect than to be deceived by a cockroach, a mere bug she could kill without even noticing it... not that she would ruin the sole of her shoes with a dirty bug but the possibility existed.
Contrary to what some town folks were saying, she was not a coward, not at all, but she was wise enough to at least try to avoid angering a person carrying a gun, so she decided to be quiet.
As much as receiving orders from a stranger was hurting her pride greatly, she followed her orders without complaining and moved toward the kitchen. Hands were she could see them. While they walked, the gun moved closer to remind her what could happen to her if she tried to be a hero... something she will never try anyway, since there was no one to save aside from herself and obeying was enough of a challenge to keep her busy.
Maybe the kitchen was no the wisest place to hold a hostage since it was full of deadly forks, lethal spoons and some sharp knifes but so far she could get away by just giving the woman what she wanted. Because it was a robbery, right? She knew that day will come but she always trusted that her friendship with the Amazons was enough deterrent to avoid these kind of situations. She was wrong. Blaming herself was not going to help in that situation so she kept walking until she reached the center of the kitchen. "What now Clyde?" She was not likely to fight back but just in case she would have a chance in the near future, she made a mental note to return to the kitchen for a knife or spoon. Whichever was more painful.
As the sound of the sirens grew closer, the monster ran away from the scene. Was he afraid of that eerie sound? Or was his gun what drove him away? Was he human enough to feel scare? He had so many questions and so few answers, it was pointless to dwell on that matter anymore, since there was something more important he needed to do, he just ran toward the body. He kneel over the almost unconscious girl, whispered some promises in her ear. Why would she believe his promises when he failed to protect her? All the courage it took to stand against that psycho vanished when he had a closer look at Celeste. There was a lot of blood at her neck; the sundress was stained with her own blood as well as her hands. Everywhere he looked, there was red. But the worst part was her expression, her gaze that usually displayed defiantness and confidence, now looked lifeless at every moment as her mind moved closer to unconsciousness. He was scared for what could happen to her, for what could happen to him but also feeling very guilty for what happened. It was his fault.
Since her pride stopped her from wrestling for the scarf, she continued to walk by his side, waiting for him to surrender to her logic. Unfortunately, her cold logic melted against his passionate warm producing nothing but a useless stream of words; dangerous, romantic words that were starting to affect her resolution to keep fighting for that piece of fabric.
"I can return it back." She replied in a hurry with a deep crimson still painting her cheeks, it was a feeling originated from a mix of anger and interest. Of course, she felt flattered by his words but she was not going to let him win, not anymore, not even in a small skirmish. So she hastened to add more treats to counter his charming accusation. "I will be glad to open your rib cage and put it back in its place." She will need some tools, maybe a sword or a ridiculous long knife. It also promised to be a bloody mess. It was better to try to win it back with diplomacy. Some sweet words... “Screw it!” "I do not want your feline heart". It was not diplomatic... but at least it did not hurt her pride. "I do not like your ears and your tail is stupid."
Celeste kept staring at the exact point from where the voice came from while her brain sill tried to understand how was even possible to sneak into a bunker. The disembodied voice was not a complete wonder for her, since it was an event that the child had experienced several times with the many visits from Katrina but that was neither her voice nor her words. And second later when a person appeared out of nowhere to point at her with a gun, Celeste proved that it was not her, at least not in appearance. The glass of whiskey almost escaped from her hands for the sudden appearance of that stranger. "Katrina. Is that you?" Asked the girl while trying to understand why her friend would enter by force to her house and would aim at her with a gun that looked very similar to her revolver. Who else could make herself invisible and use these Jedi mind tricks? Again... why would she do that? Despite she did not understand what was happening, the girl stood up as ordered. If it was an illusion, could it hurt her? Could it damage her brain instead of her body? Then reality hit her mercilessly like a big rock. The cockroach. It was at that moment. Somehow that person had entered the bunker at that moment. It was the only odd thing that had happened throughout the day, and the only time that the door had been open. "Are you with the roach?" Asked the girl, trying to make her voice sound brave but not managing to mask the scared little girl she was in reality.
With each new guest that answered correctly, she gained new data and evidence to support her theory that the dream had been shared with other people. That not only meant that she was not crazy, but also that every "character" that had interacted with her during that period must be a real persons, and not a creation of her imagination as logic suggested. Even if the data she was collecting with the survey was false or had been modified in some way, every person at the party was living proof that they had been victims of an extraordinary event that had sent their minds to that horrible dream.
While the guests were still few, she could already see several people she remembered well from the dream, the Amazon Isabel that stood in the corner looking for a prey or Sarah who had lived with her for a long time and had become her friend and confident... of course there were other people she vaguely remembered but clearly, they all were there to look for the some answers.
To wake up from that ruined world had been the second most traumatic event in her short life, and not even the death of her whole family or the attack on New York with nuclear missiles could surpass the fact that even after several weeks her brain keep thinking she was seventeen and living inside a bunker. It was as if her reality had been contaminated with the experiences of that future dream to the point where both worlds become confused and blurry. Sometimes she do not know who was dead and who was not, and some times she even forgot that her father was still alive in another continent, busy as ever in his profitable company, sometimes she even ran into the kitchen expecting to find Sarah, her cook or even Slate... but no one was there... but now, she was sure that the people she missed were real. She was not crazy.
In the other hand, Celeste was sure that if she could get enough information from different perspectives, it would be easier for her to discover who or how that shared dream started but more importantly... Was it a prophetic dream? If yes, was there a way to stop it? While she continue analyzing these questions and formulating new ones, the familiar voice of the leader of the Amazons brought her back to reality. "Maxine!" She replied excited while trying to containing her desire to hug her. It was really hard to be fourteen once again. Then she saw the box. "It was not necessary..." She affirmed with feigned humility while she restrained herself again to not tear the bow that hid her new shoes. At that very moment, she an acid glare to one of her employees, who immediately disappeared into a crowd of waiters. Meanwhile, Celeste took the box from her hands carefully while displaying a radiant smile. It was an expression that she had rarely used during the apocalypse. "It was all real, right?" Maxine probably knew the same or less than her but she could not help but pronounced that question aloud.
While Celeste continued giving smiles to the queen she had so admired so much, an employee carrying two packages approached them. "I also have shoes for you." She said with a strange sense of déjà vu. "And something for Rex too." Italian shoes for Maxine, a strange stuffed octopus for Rex.
Once the girl located the precious bottle and a big fancy cup, she moved toward the bedroom through one of the two doors in the kitchen. The other door lead to a corridor which ended in a trapdoor that descended to the storeroom. Despite the room was big enough to house four more people without problems, the gigantic canopy bed that dominated the huge space was so luxurious and big that everything in the room (even the room itself) looked like miniatures. Even Celeste that had grown considerably in the last three years felt like an insect because of its colossal size. She opened the curtains with trembling hands, expecting to find the huge cockroach behind but fortunately the bed was empty. The girl climbed to the bed while trying to balance the alcoholic liquid inside the cup. Once inside, she closed the curtains to create a enclosed environment in which she felt secure. The fabric was not as thick as her concrete walls but they made her feel as if these curtains were impenetrable walls. So despite the impression left by that horrible creature, she managed to relax a little but not enough to stop thinking in the outside world and all its dangers. How could poor people live with giant cockroaches?
Despise she was still fighting with the most fearful events of that close encounter, she managed to relax enough to grab the cup one more time. The alcoholic substance trembled slightly in her hands as she remembered the day Katrina gave her that bottle along with an iPod. Both objects were a token of appreciation for letting Slate stay inside (and use her comfy bed while she slept on the floor) but also a gift to strengthen their friendship. The bottle of Scotch had been left in the kitchen since none of the girls, including herself, wanted to try it while the iPod became her favorite object since that day. Now, the small device able to play music seemed to be totally useless against her fear... Instead, the forgotten whiskey could help her to forget... if she manage to drink it.
Celeste sat cross legged on the bed, staring at the cup with hope of finding some answers or relief in that strange liquid but without gathering enough willpower to taste it. In exchange, the whiskey glared at her intently, tempting her to drink and forget one of the most traumatic events of her life.
(very slow replier here)