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.
It was reassuring to see Sveta looking dressed-down and comfortable. They both spent too much time looking professional, so it was nice to have friend he could hang around with in his worn-in jeans and t-shirt. They were past going out of their way to impress each other, which was nice.
Nate looked over his shoulder. ”Almost. Norah, sweetheart?”
Norah lit up, scrambling to her feet to get to the entrance. ”Hi, Miss Sveta!” the little one beamed.
With his daughter at his side, Nate mussed Norah’s dark hair with his hand. ”You’re going to be a good girl and go to bed now, right?”
”Yes, daaaad.” A begrudging yes if he ever heard one, but Nate would take it.
In the corner of his eye, Nate spotted a skittering form climbing on the back of a couch. Ah, right. ”And because you’re such a good girl, you can take Parker with you.”
That was the pick-me-up his daughter needed. She loved the pet arachnid, and Parker in turn was protective of his affectionate mini-owner. ”Okay! Goodnight, Miss Sveta!” Norah offered a polite bow before running off to collect Parker and head to her room.
Nate grinned. ”I think I’m getting better at bribing her. Please, come in,” he welcomed, leading her into the apartment.
Devon’s grand plans for Haven involved grasping for as much positive PR as possible whenever possible. Over the year, this led to coordinating patrols and resources for rifters, helping the response efforts to wild fires, and hosting events that naturally went off the rails. The last one came with more stress once the bizarre mutant antics of Halloween (and the Halloweens preceding it) became a SUPER talking point.
Managing operations and handling literal and figurative fires was, put plainly, exhausting. Thanksgiving was now behind them, so had a very small break from organizing food drives, mutant shelters, and elaborate donor dinners until they had to repeat the effort for the Christmas season.
Keeping things running was draining, but at least it was a team effort. Devon was very hands on as always, but it was the addition of Sveta to the Inner Echelon that really made things more manageable. Devon was great, but he could get hyper-focused. He was “The Founder” after all, putting him slightly outside the IE proper. Sveta and Nate could relate to each other and share the burden. Sveta’s sense of humor made a long day shorter, so with their plates so full, she turned out to be a valuable friend.
Now that they had a moment to come up for air, they deserved a night of actual relaxation. With a fully stocked bar recently added to Nate’s apartment, he wanted to break it in with a night of friendly drinking.
Norah’s night drinking was of the warm milk variety, accompanied by a cookie to appease her and encourage her to sleep and let the adults have their time. Sitting on the couch in her PJs, Norah spoke through a chunk of cookie. ”Do I have to go to bed, daddy?”
Nate shook his head and smiled. ”You have to go to your room when Miss Sveta gets here. You can have an extra half hour on the tablet if you’re very good.” Norah’s access to her tablet was limited, but it came in useful when convincing a young child to get into bed, where she would inevitably fall asleep on her own.
There was a knock at the door just on time. ”And there she is now.” Nate walked to the entryway and opened the door. ”Hey, I hope you’re ready for a well-deserved drink for surviving Autumn somehow.”
Some people were not good at rolling with punches. Those people, with their deer-caught-in-headlights act, were terrible partners if you lied a lot in your day-to-day life. Things could have been awkward if Zoe froze and looked at her dumbfounded.
Fortunately, Zoe was quick to fall into the story, letting Madi’s arm comfortably remain at her waist. Zoe dismissed the man’s accusation, and she did it confidently enough that he seemed almost as confused as he was frustrated. ”Best of luck finding your Isabella,” she added, returning her smile and eyes to Zoe. In the corner of her vision, she watched the man stomp off.
With that out of the way, Madi sighed in relief, glad the night did not take a messy turn. She could have asked about Zoe’s possible alternate identity, but why bother? Whatever the truth was, it was overrated. They were there to escape, right?
”So, we came here together,” she affirmed, looking to flesh out this new narrative for a life she did not lead. ”It was a long week for both of us, so we decided to go out for a much needed date night.”
She pressed her glass to her painted lips and took a sip, smirking. ”Anything I’m forgetting, honey?” It was, after all, presumptuous of Madi to be the only tailoring a world they could both lose themselves in for a night. They were partners after all, probably. That seemed to be the story now, at least.
Stephanie was happy to see her drink being refilled quickly and without her having to ask. Actually, no—she was Madison. She was here to get away from Stephanie’s problems, so why would she think of herself like that? Madison was just an exotic dancer enjoying her night off and looking to get a little crazy in her off time. On the older side for her profession, but she just loved living her uninhibited, carefree life. Not a mother. Not a thief. Not under the thumb of a sociopath. Just a dancer.
Madi listened intently to the woman she was flirting with, curious about what kind of life she led. Unfortunately, her time with Zoe was interrupted by a man. She was used to this; guys at the bar had no qualms approaching the women she talked to, because they thought she was likely a gal pal that came to the bar with her attractive friend. Madi was confident in herself and her ability to deal with competition.
She was surprised by the man’s frustration. Zoe stood him up? She was called Isabella? Well, deep in her thoughts, Madison was not going to be a hypocrite by dwelling on that. If anything, Zoe was unfazed by the man’s intrusion, dismissing him. Maybe it was an honest mistake? Did she care?
Of course not. Madi was her company tonight, so she was going to have her back. Specifically, she wrapped her arm around Zoe’s back, her fingers wrapping delicately around the woman’s waist. ”I can vouch for her. She’s definitely not an Isabella. When we left the house, I’m pretty sure she was still Zoe.” With her free hand, Madi sipped her drink and smiled. ”Honest mistake, but I wish you luck finding your date!”
Jay, to his credit, was a gentleman. A shameless flirt, but a respectful one willing to back off when he finally received a firm no. It left Steph with a twinge of guilt for not giving him more of a chance to woo her. It was a sweet attempt, but impractical.
She was sure the message would come through clearly when he saw her get close to Poseidon. From that distance, she doubted he would notice her shiver as Poseidon’s hand found the small of her back. Only she felt the goosebumps raise across her skin as his fingertips touched her bare back.
The compliment rang hollow in her ear, because people did not compliment dolls, they just pointed out how pretty they were. She felt her stomach sink and her blood turn cold when he joked about absconding from the party, but the panic faded; she knew that was not his game. She sighed and forced a smile. ”I wouldn’t think to deprive these fine people of their lord and master.” She almost purred out the last word, hoping to appease him on the off-chance he was seriously considering just taking her away. She would be good and play his games dutifully until… well, likely until the day she died.
After being strung along and toyed with for so long, Stephanie was suspicious of any glimmer of hope, particularly when it was being handed to her by an unfamiliar figure. The world did not give you benevolent figures to come to you in your hour of need; hope was not something that sprang out of nowhere to save you. After so many life lessons reminding her that she was on her own, this woman’s offer was jarring.
Even if she did believe the offer, did she deserve it? She had sunk to such depths in Poseidon’s service. Offering herself. Taking life. Tainting her soul. Was freedom something she was entitled to?
Maybe or maybe not. It did not matter. She always said she made her choices to keep Malia safe. Malia deserved a happy, free life, and now she might have a chance at it. Even if the warning of Poseidon’s plans was not true, at any point, he could decide Stephanie was expendable and take Malia under his wing. She would not allow Malia to take her place under Poseidon’s thumb.
The woman was playing with Stephanie, making her saucy remarks, but her concern was less about Stephanie and more about punishing Poseidon. Her brother? Stephanie never knew Poseidon had family, but no one knew the details of that man’s life. What she did know was a man like Poseidon would have enemies. It would make sense that another member of his family would be just as ruthless. Sibling rivalries only escalated with power.
Stephanie looked over the forged documents offered to her, impressed with the quality. This woman knew what she was doing, and if this was a trap, it was an elaborate one. The woman was putting herself on display and in any other instance, Stephanie would be caught by her beauty, but the most appealing thing she now had to offer came as a USB and a forged identity.
There was a risk, but when would she ever find a possible way out less risky than this? Stephanie looked the woman in the eyes for several seconds before calling out. ”Sweetie, there’s been a change of plans. Mommy’s gonna come help you put clothes in the suitcase in your closet. We’re going on a trip.” The decision was made. She had to give herself the chance.
Stephanie stared at the woman for what she was sure would be the last time. ”I don’t know anything about you. You could be worse than him, for all I know. But if you are, it’ll help me sleep better at night to know you’re making him suffer. Thank you, and good luck, Miss.”
Stephanie made a habit of drinking alone with the occasional flirting when she was approached by some brave soul at the bar. Recently, she had stopped making proactive moves on people when she visited the bar. There were people that caught her eye, but they were just expecting different things. They were looking for someone to have fun with, while Stephanie was looking for someone to numb herself with. It never seemed fair to drag someone else into that.
With Zoe, at least Stephanie knew they were both hurting. There was a sense of camaraderie; they were two broken women, so maybe they could be good company for one another.
>> ”A girl’s gotta be able to have fun. With all the guys here to pick from, why stop at only one?”
As she expected, Zoe was not a shy woman. Timid women rarely allowed themselves to leave the same bar with different men on different nights. Prudishness, honestly. ”Well, when you look the way you do, I’m sure you’ll never want for suitors,” she teased.
It sounded like men were Zoe’s go-to preference, but she was not shying away from Madison’s advances in the least. It might have warded Stephanie away on another night, but she was okay with being someone’s something different. ”Well, I’m wonderful for that, I can promise you that now,” she assured Zoe, her lips hovering over the rim of the glass.
”So when you’re not being gorgeous at bars and charming the masses, what do you do, Zoe?”
Stephanie noticed how the woman at the door looked at her because she always noticed the way people looked at her. It was a look more men gave her, but it was an unmistakable hungry look. Stephanie did not receive unexpected visitors; that was what a doorman was for. If this woman got in, Stephanie assumed she was tied to Poseidon, and that made her apprehensive.
Apprehension became confusion as the gorgeous older woman claimed to be Stephanie’s savior and closed the distance between them. Steph was too caught off guard to switch into shadowform, but the woman just took Steph’s hand and left her something. The contact sent a wave of goosebumps up Steph’s bare arms. She looked down to see the USB she was inexplicably given.
While Stephanie was trying to connect dots in her head with speculation, the woman was wandering the living room. The thief broke out of her thoughts when the woman commented on a picture of Norah. Instinctively, Steph tensed up, all too used to Norah being used as a bargaining chip for threats against her. She froze when the woman shared Poseidon’s purported plan. Was it something Poseidon would do? Of course it was; why should that be a surprise? The real question was why the woman was sharing these details.
And what power did she wield that she offered Stephanie a way out? It was the kind of offer Steph never believed she would get. ”Who are you, really?” She was caught between suspicious and incredulous. ”How can you just assure my freedom, knowing who has me under his thumb? How do I know this isn’t just some big test and he’s not watching somewhere, waiting to see if I make the wrong choice?” After everything she had endured, it was only fair for Stephanie to think an offer like this was too good to be true.
Zoe did not bat an eyelash at the alias, which was expected: she had no reason to question Stephanie’s name. With the mood she was in, she probably did not care about her name. If she tossed the name at the end of the night, that would be all the better; it was disposable anyway.
Madi, as she would now go by for the rest of the night, had not reassured Zoe of her situation, but that was her way of being fair and honest. Life was terrible sometimes, and evidently, you had to be ready for it not to get better. That was a crying shame, but it was life.
When you could acknowledge that life and reality could be terrible and cruel and unfair, it became easier to embrace fiction. Acting like a new person and playing the role of someone unbroken did not fix Madi, but it did allow her to escape. Escapism was a noble goal people had been pursuing at bars and clubs for centuries, and Madi just committed to her abandonment of the real world while she could.
Madi laid the flirtatious tone on thicker than normal, but Zoe’s small smile made it worth it. Zoe probably did not live her life putting on masks and playing pretend, so Madi would try, come hell or high water, to pull her into her escapist fantasy.
”Oh, I’ve been here a handful of times, sugar, but I’m pretty sure I would have remembered you if this was just my second trip. You’re good at catching eyes,” she teased. ”So good, you always seemed to have a new guy on your arm each time I spotted you. Quite the popular woman, I take it?”
Quin let the comment about Nate’s childhood slide. She knew more about him and his life than most other people, and he knew his past was safe with her. He also understood how hard it was for her to think about his time in the orphanage or on the streets because Quin wanted help people in need, and there was nothing she could do to save little Stephen Graves twenty years earlier. Nate was at a point in his life where he could joke about his life, but it did not come as easily for Quin, so he was not surprised or bothered when his joke went without comment.
They had a day at the amusement park to enjoy, and the star of the show was evidently getting a rare sugary treat. Quin was confident, or at the very least hopeful, that she could handle a child being fed sugar in a high-stimulation environment. Nate chuckled but kept his thoughts to himself; they would see how well she fared soon enough. ”Well, sounds like we have a plan. Give the gal the good news.”
Quin called out to Nate’s daughter, proposing one of the most quintessential fare experiences: fried desserts. Norah turned back to her chaperones, wide-eyed. ”Really? An oreo’s a cookie, isn’t it? They fry those?” The question was full of surprise and wonder, which made sense given Natalie’s parenting strategies.
”They do, kiddo,” he confirmed, prompting Norah to lead them in their new direction. Nate followed, stepping in time with Quin. ”Sugar’s a rare treat for her, so you might as well be bringing the girl to Willy Wonka.”
Looking at his excited daughter, he thought of her mother in Chicago and grimaced. ”I was a conman for a good decade. Do you think those skills translate to convincing a seven-year-old not to tell her mother about her discovery of fried cookies?”
The box the courier delivered was in Stephanie’s room now, where it would stay until she had to change into her costume as Poseidon’s whore-for-hire. It was open, because morbid curiosity won out. She was not surprised by what she saw, but that was only because it would have been hard to send her something more scandalous to wear without delivering an empty box to her apartment.
Malia was already changing into her pajamas for the night, kicking off the end-of-night rituals. The little girl would change and brush her teeth before the babysitter arrived. She would get a story from mommy and then Stephanie would go off to change for the night as well. She would leave her apartment, ignoring the suspicious looks from the babysitter, and find her way to her latest degradation.
Everything was running on schedule, but the knock at the door came earlier than she expected. Her babysitter was a good young woman, but she was rarely early. Steph walked to the door and opened it. ”Thanks for coming on short notice again, but I…”
Her voice trailed off as she looked at the woman in her doorway. She certainly was not the pale blonde high school senior Stephanie expected. Instead, her slate grey eyes met a dignified and beautiful woman with tan skin, an amazing body, and an air of confidence Steph could almost feel.
She introduced herself and walked into the apartment, apparently owning that confident air. Stephanie was incredulous. ”Um, I’m so sorry, but who are you?” She was confused an annoyed, but then a third emotion hit her: concern. ”W-who sent you?” Was she one of Poseidon’s? Did her jobs come with escorts and chaperones now? Another aspect of her life where she was watched and had no control or free will?
Stephanie let the woman give her a once over, not shying away from the attention. What was the worst thing a cursory glance could do? Besides, she was there for some kind of anonymous camaraderie, right? Drinking alone was well and good, but it felt less pathetic to drink alone with someone else; misery loving company and all that.
Her new drinking partner had a clear weight pressing on her. Plenty of people drank to process their problems. Alcohol was great for venting and getting emotional. It was the soul-crushing problems that made someone drink to get numb and ignore their pain. Steph could respect that.
Zoe shared her name, and for a moment, Steph wished she didn’t. Names made things so personal. Stephanie thought back to the old days and her old life; being a con woman was easier because she could detach and hide behind fictional people. The idea was so appealing, she decided it might be easier to return to the old practice, if just for one night. ”Madison. You can call me Madi, though.” Maybe it was perverse, hiding behind the name of the woman she killed, but Madison Potts deserved to live on, and at least now they could drink together about the night they both lost themselves.
”I get it, Zoe,” she assured, punctuating her sentence with a sip of her appletini. ”I had one of those things I didn’t know how to deal with, too. Sadly, I never figured out how… so why don’t we forget together tonight? Here, I’ll start.”
Like she was flipping a switch, Steph let out one last depressive sigh and her expression perked up. She went from a woman wearing her sins and pain on her face to one who was out for a fun night of engaging strangers. ”Hey there, cutie! I’ve seen you around here before, right? You’re hard not to notice,” she teased playfully, wondering if Zoe would be able to play along and act like it was just a typical night at the bar and they weren’t both broken.
Stephanie gave the party a cursory glance to confirm she was not the only eligible bachelorette around at the Syndicate party. Steph was aware of her appeal, but there were other girls, some that would have caught Steph’s eye had they not been part of a certain shadow organization. Jay could have cut his losses, but he seemed dead-set on occupying her time.
They were the mutants of New York, looking for a new start and all the trouble that came with it. For Jay, that meant Syndicate and Stephanie.
He was fun. He was very cute. He knew how to work a cute dog analogy without making it weird or cheesy. He was not needy, or at least he claimed he wasn’t, and if he was, Steph had plenty of experience ghosting those men; she did not need shadowform to ghost someone.
For just a moment, she flashed a genuine smile. Maybe for one night, she could just enjoy her time. What was the harm? She had done it at other clubs with other people, right?
Other non-Syndicate people. Other non-Syndicate clubs. That was the big difference. Poseidon was always watching. Keeping her on task. How might she be punished for stealing treats from under his nose. Would Jay suffer in some subtle way? The genuine smile faded. They had a pleasant chat. She never got his name. That was probably for the best.”You seem like a good guy. Maybe a cad, but that’s not a bad thing. Sadly, you might be a precious stray, but me?” She grabbed her drink and moved off the bar, looking to Poseidon as he moved through the crowd. ”I’m kept on a pretty tight leash.”
Not wanting to leave him nothing for his time, Steph did lean in and kiss the handsome man on the cheek. ”Welcome to New York, and be careful. They say it’s dog eat dog.” Stifling a disappointed sigh, she sashayed away from her suitor, joining Poseidon at his side.
She tried not to tense up or appear uncomfortable. It was a party and she knew better. He would expect her to be smiling, and after coming dangerously close to misbehaving, she wanted to ensure she fell in line. ”Having a good night, sir? I know you like to appreciate what’s yours.”
Stephanie was miserable. With his recent surge in power and control, it was like Poseidon was finally taking off the gloves with his favorite pet. She used to wonder why he never did more than leer lustily and occasionally grope and caress her. When she was tasked to kill Honey, as she suffered the emotional repercussions, it finally became obvious: Her body, as sexy as it was, could only provide him with as much pleasure as some of his other conquests. The true pleasure he derived from her came from breaking her down and watching as she followed orders and lost pieces of herself. He reveled in her soul breaking apart and withering away.
Honestly, after making her a killer, it seemed like he was ready to just make clear that her morals and comfort limits were no longer a concern. He had some dominatrix client he had forced her to “work with” in the past, but something about those interactions felt more like part of the game, and at least more professional. Now, the pretense was dropping and he was going to whore her out.
She knew the package was arriving at some point in the afternoon, so when the bell rang, she turned to Malia, who was playing on the living room floor with a monster truck and a doll. She was going to be an interesting girl, that one. ”Sweetie, have you cleaned your room and made your bed yet?”
Malia pouted, but they both knew she had not. She walked away, giving Steph the chance to answer the door in private. The courier was one she recognized; she was certain he was under the employ of Poseidon too; why use a third party when everyone bowed to your whims?
She accepted the box half-heartedly and closed the door, looking at the plain parcel. She sighed, not wanting to open it any sooner than she had to; she could only imagine what he had her wearing for an appointment like this.
”This fresh hell never ends,” she muttered, wondering how much longer she could take this before she finally broke.
It was important as a mother, a professional, and a conwoman, for Stephanie to wear many faces over the course of a day. She had to be inconspicuous as a business owner, distant and private as the Syndicate’s thief, and a happy mother who had her life together for Malia. There were very few instances where Stephanie could take off her masks and be what she felt like: a spiraling mess.
More and more, Steph gave up on the hope of getting out from underneath Poseidon’s thumb. With Malia’s life on the line, she could not go against his orders. If he asked her to kill again, it did not matter how she felt; it was a task she would get done. She was no longer the lady-like cat burglar with some code of ethics, and the cost of what she might become was ebbing away at her soul.
Thankfully, she had rare moments of respite. She had basically cased the Inferno club before entering. There would always be security to monitor, but she did not want anyone around who might recognize her and report back to her big boss.
Stephanie arrived at the club in her forest green dress with a plunging neckline and a hem just above her knee; not innocent, but it might as well be a habit after some of the outfits Poseidon bought for her.
Approaching the bar, Stephanie spotted a regular she usually saw in passing at the club, but she did not recognize her right away. Generally, the woman would be wearing something evocative and eye-catching-- hence why Stephanie recognized her. Today, she was surprisingly casual. They had not shared real conversations before, but curiosity guided the thief to a stool next to the woman.
She caught the order and the tone it was requested in. Now closer, something about the woman just seemed less… put together. ”I think she’s got the right idea tonight. Same.” Steph was not big on Appletinis, but she was keen on drinking to excess to drown out her own thoughts.
She turned her slate-grey eyes upon the woman and asked simply, ”Rough night?”
