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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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.
Listening into the conversation between the pink-haired artist and the host of the gallery was enough to rile up Stephanie’s blood. She was not openly a mutant, but she did have some sense of mutant pride. Her daughter was not old enough to be discrete with her mutation. If someone spoke about her like that, talking about her kind, Steph would be motivated to hit them in the face with a crowbar.
In this instance, watching a young artist dealing with that kind of insulting bigotry, Steph could not make a scene or strike the man. It sucked, but she was here for a job and getting arrested for assault would ruin that, no matter how cathartic it would be.
The woman with the dyed hair finally gave up and ran off, and Steph was torn. She felt for the girl, but she was just another mutant dealing with injustice. There were so many of those, and Steph could feel some catharsis when she robbed a scumbag.
Then again, she had time. This was an event scheduled to run several hours, and she was just casing the place anyway. It was not that complicated a gallery, and she could come back later. Maybe she felt some empathy, or maybe she was quietly remembering what the internet said about girls with dyed hair and the high likelihood of them being queer. Whatever the motivation, Steph silently swiped a very fancy bottle of tequila from behind the bar and exited the gallery.
Thanks to her impulsiveness, she wasted no time in following the exiting artist and spotted her sitting in front of a closed cafe. The poor thing had tears in her eyes, which she did not deserve. Taking a deep breath, Stephanie approached.
The dark-haired young woman offered a sad smile. ”Hey. That was really shitty.” The thief held up the bottle she was holding behind her back and shrugged. ”I was wondering if drinking a stolen… let’s say three-hundred dollar bottle of that asshole’s tequila would make you feel better?” She was not an expert on the stuff, but this was definitely a higher-end bottle, because Stephanie “Silhouette” Graves did not steal the cheap stuff.
Stephanie had no qualms talking about her daughter as long as she was not being judged for it. Some people had strong opinions about a teenager with a child, and while she understood where they were coming from, she also told them to shove their opinions up their asses as they screwed off to leave her alone. She had a daughter, and that was a decision she was standing by, no matter what. "Her name's Malia, and she is seventeen months. Honestly, she's getting to the point where I should just start saying one and a half." She was not going to be the mom who introduced a three-year-old as thirty-six months.
Working too hard, too often was relatable to Stephanie, who was balancing two identities and a daughter. That did not mean there was not some time for a little casual recreation, even if not everyone was into that.
Setting up another piece, a set of ruby earrings, positioning them carefully, angled with one resting on top of the other. "It sounds like whoever's in charge works you a little too hard," she suggested lightly. "Fine, maybe relationships are time consuming. I actually subscribe to that belief. Doesn't mean you can't find the occasional date, though. Great way to relieve stress," she advised with some experience, before walking back the comment by adding, "not that I am gonna go off on a tangent about dating with a client." Perhaps that was a little too casual for a professional setting.
Steph was good at making herself busy when she wanted to be. It was not a matter of lying; with Malia, the Studio, and Silhouette activities, Steph kept herself occupied with tasks and responsibilities, even if she could only share two of the three as public excuses. Still, when it came to keeping a respectable distance from a certain gorgeous blonde, Steph knew how to selectively make her schedule book conspicuously full.
It was not that Raine was not a good friend; she was great to have around. She was too great to have around, based on how their night out at the club went. Getting close to Raine was easy and way too dangerous, somehow. The unassuming daycare attendant found ways to worm into Steph's thoughts and, much more troubling, her daydreams. No one should be occupying that much of her mental space, short of Malia. They could stay friendly and text, but Steph had to be more careful about the time she allowed herself to spend with Raine.
That social distance did a fat lot of good when Malia was showing signs of sickness. When Steph started to panic, Raine was the first person she even thought to call. She was the person Steph thought she could trust.
"Are you sure? She just... she's so hot, and she's just so unhappy..." Raine was right, realistically. The hospital was unnecessary, but Steph was overly concerned, to the point where she was missing parts of what Raine said to watch her daughter. She finally came to when she realized Raine was offering to come by and help. If Steph was in a normal, confident headspace, she would tell her friend she had the situation under control or find some reason not to have Raine over at the apartment.
Today, she just whimpered, "Please. I don't know what I'm doing." She should have read more books.
Until Raine got there, Steph put on a heathered gray t-shirt with a neckline wide enough to barely cling to one of her shoulders. The garb was a lazy outfit, but it was long enough to almost cover her cotton shorts. She just needed to throw on something vaguely presentable for her impending company while she drew up a cool bath for Malia, worrying about the temperature.
When the buzz of someone waiting to be let in rang through the apartment, Steph hurried to swaddle Malia in a towel and rush to the door to buzz Raine in. When her friend finally made it up to the apartment and Steph opened the door, she met the young woman with concern plainly on her face. "Please remind me I'm not a bad mom for being so lost right now?"
Steph tossed off the sheets, feeling seriously overheated now that the throes of passion were finally subsiding and she was tangled with April's bare body. The experience did not disappoint in the least, and every inch of Steph's skin felt as heated as April's own.
And now that they had thoroughly sexed one another up in Steph's bed and the wall and the floor, Steph could comment on that. "You're fucking hot. I mean, obviously, but like... your skin. You run so much hotter than I'm used to." It had to be a medical thing, or perhaps... well, she'd keep her speculating quiet.
Wrapping an arm around the blonde's back, Steph sighed and looked toward the door. "You know, this is the point in the afterglow where I'd start thinking about kicking a lover out the door." Sure, it was pragmatic and a little cold, but it was true. "But... we did talk about that. And that was pretty magnificent. I suppose if you were hoping to save yourself a trip home, I could handle a sleepover. See how it feels waking up and having breakfast before I kick you out on that perfect ass."
The internet was so helpful. When people kept talking about Haven and their fundraising party, Steph could just look them up and sate her curiosity! They had a track record of making moves and supporting the people displaced by weird New York nonsense like alternate universes, public health scares, and now age-altering phenomena. It even seemed like they leaned further into supporting mutants with some of their outreach programs.
They seemed like a good organization. That did not mean Steph planned on accepting money or getting involved. Haven seemed very public, and she did not want to be too visible as a civilian. For the same reason, she had no interest in trying to rob from the silent auction they were holding.
A party though? She could use a good party. It had been ages since the Piano Bar with Raine, and after how that ended and the following… decisions made with a certain vigilante, Steph had not rushed into another girls’ night out. A fundraiser hot tub party sounded like the kind of night out she could go to on her own, after setting things up with a sitter to watch Malia. Poor thing; she was de-aged too, but she was well-under the fifteen-year-old limit.
The bartender handed Steph her wine and her fake ID back. She actually loved wine, but she was curious why she noticed someone walking with a whiskey not listed as available. She was even trying to chat up the bartender to find out how one got their hands on a glass of the amber stuff. She figured her attire for the evening might help her get some special treatment. ”Any chance there’s a secret menu? I promise to keep it quiet, and it was just my birthday! Any special treats?”
The bartender raised an eyebrow and smirked. “According to that ID of yours, you’re born in November.”
Steph’s expression deflated, and she got the message: don’t push your luck. Bartender: One, Steph and the strappy black bikini: Zero. ”Wine it is,” she sighed, turning to look at the party while sticking close to the bar. She could take her time, sip her drink, and savor a night out with no work, no parental obligations, and no awkward sexual tension. Just a party, some wine, and several hot tubs.
It was nice to be on the same page with someone. April wasted no time letting the heat of the moment take control. They had been building to this through a sexually-charged dinner date and a torturous car ride. The moment they had the room to themselves, Steph knew she was going to find the nearest hard surface and pin April to it. April responded by finally touching Steph's body properly.
As Steph's tongue slipped past April's lips, her hands reclaimed the thighs she teased under a table less than twenty minutes earlier. They ventured away long enough to bunch up the hem of April's dress and pull it up off her body. She had enjoyed the dress long enough, but now she wanted it on the floor.
Now Steph's hands could find purchase at April's backside, cupping and pulling her in as her lips and teeth found April's neck. "Well, now that we're alone," she murmered against April's hot skin, "I think... I made some promises..." A squeeze. "And I intend... to deliver..." With her hands already in a position of power and the door offering help, Steph mustered up all the strength her somewhat lengthy frame had to lift April so she could carry her toward the bedroom.
Cat and mouse was a fun game. April was a cat as well, but she had no problems letting herself be the mouse. That was quite the choice now that Stephanie had her cornered like delicious prey. The way Stephanie touched the blonde affected her, and she was not going to shy away from that.
It was in her eyes. It was in her voice. April needed things to progress and she was not above begging.
Good, because f**k if seeing April in need like that was not driving Stephanie absolutely mad with lust. She pulled her hand back from scorching skin and raised it above the table."Check. Please."
The Rover ride amounted mostly to cozying up in the back seat and Stephanie expressing all the restraint she could. She had a babysitter at home. They had to wait, though that still meant risky touches exchanged. Any of those touches risked pushing them past their thresholds and April's body was so literally hot, it was raising Steph's own temperature.
They made it into the small apartment where Wendy was waiting on the couch. She gave a report of how Malia was that Steph did her best to be attentive for, because it ws important. She did also want the babysitter to hurry up after she confirmed Malia was in bed and sleeping.
"Thank you for the short-notice help, Wendy. You'll definitely be hearing back from me soon," she promised, guiding the sitter toward and out of the door. "Get home safe. Thank you again! Night!"
She let Wendy get a few yards away before she closed the door.
And then Stephanie turned to April, who had not strayed more than a few feet away while she dealt with Wendy. She grabbed a handful of April's dress to pull her, spin her.
And she all but threw the blonde up against the door with a slam. Steph wasted no words pressing her body against April, capturing those tantalizing lips in a scorching kiss. Everything about this was scorching. April's whole body felt like she had been left in the sun, radiating heat. Stephanie did not care-- she was not going to let unexpected heat convince her to allow even a millimeter of distance to exist between their bodies.
Being playful was more fun when you had someone to play off of, and April was bouncing that energy back and forth with Stephanie. Each time it passed from one to the other, the heat between them increased. The innuendo and the veiled promises and threats of what they would do back at the apartment made the torture of waiting all the sweeter.
Torture was not accomplished with words alone, however. Steph was nothing if not a woman of action with her wandering hand. The contact registered and April played it cool into Stephanie's touch found a sweet spot along her thigh. She could see the jolt pass through April's eyes as it shot through her body. That look. The way April did what she could to contain her voice. That was what she wanted.
"Oh, I am," she whispered confidently, though the moment was infecting her as well. Her heartbeat quickened the longer she left her hand touching that hot skin left to her by April. "And I think you're, in fact, quite impatient." She took another bite of her tiramisu and her fingers pressed again. Oh, if they were maybe six inches closer... "But I don't know. You're sitting there, waiting ever so patiently. Maybe I'm wrong? Maybe... you don't mind waiting...?"
It was nice that April laughed. She wanted that notion to be funny. If someone met Stephanie and could picture her pulling off an art theft or a bank heist, she was putting out the wrong vibes. No criminal should want people to look at her and assume she had the capacity to do criminal things.
April was definitely more direct than some women Stephanie played cat and mouse with. That was obvious, considering they had all but confirmed they would be sleeping together before orders could be taken. "Oh, I do. There are just some treats I want to savor on my tongue, you know? Just take time. Maximize the satisfaction," she purred, taking a larger bite of tiramisu. Okay, maybe as the conversation went on, she was less concerned about drawing things out.
The smolder and heat in Steph's eyes was plain as she maintained eye contact. "Well, if I'm going to share my time, I always make sure the payoff is well worth it." The hand not being used to eat an Italian dessert slipped under the table cloth, moving from Steph's leg down to April's knee. "But please be courteous to my little apartment-mate. When I make you want to cry out and moan-- and you will want to, I promise-- make sure you find ways to quiet yourself. I'm sure you can think of something to keep your mouth occupied with..." Her impatient hand moved forward and in, caressing as far along April's inner thigh as Steph could reach. These tables needed to be smaller.
Steph could work and talk as long as she was not being annoyed by a line of questioning or asked to contemplate serious topics in her head. Talking about Alexandria and sharing a bit of her own life came easily. Steph liked getting to know people, even if it was just a fleeting meeting.
Positioning the ring in the open ring case, making sure the interior cushioned fabric rested so it did not interfere with the ring itself. ”South. And I understand the workaholic life. I feel like I’m only either working or taking care of my daughter.” Working two jobs, if she wanted to call theft a line of work.
Setting up the backdrop and the ring, Steph looked to account for the lighting she brought with her. She wanted the gem to sparkle and the ring to shine, sure, but she also did not want a green reflection cast on the stark white backdrop.
When she eventually got things just how she felt they would best be captured on camera, she started taking pictures. The disbelief from Alexandria made Steph smirk though, which she made her pause her shutter clicking shots so she did not mess up the angle. ”All do respect, but if you wanted two, I bet you could. With eyes like that? Well, let’s just say when I see a woman like you with eyes like those, I certainly take notice.” It stood to reason the men of New York would too, and yes, maybe she also wanted to casually float her own queerness out into the conversation. No harm in that.
There was a clear shift Stephanie had to be aware of in the conversation. She had led them down too serious a path. April was still figuring out what to do with her life, and while Steph assumed she was content floating around and doing her own thing, maybe the aimlessness bothered April. Probably best they move on, and April even did them the favor of an ironic joke. "Well, if you decide to do that, let me know. I've got connections," she assured April with a wink, implying it was in jest.
April was easy to be around. Unconcerned with acting too cool, the way she snorted when she laughed was endearing, as was her cheesy lines. "Well, I certainly do look forward to getting a taste when we get back," she assured April in a hushed voice as a serving of tiramisu was brought to the table. "I do hope to take my time... savor it," she mused as she took a small corner from her dessert and ate it, pulling away her spoon slowly.
"But there's no need to rush, right? I'm sure you're feeling good and patient right now?" she asked, smirking as she took another bite while her eyes remained, drinking April in.
Not all crime happened on a whim. Some did; she had recently recovered rug burns from a panic room to prove she could absolutely rush into a job unprepared. Her current assignment was a special request accepted through the Syndicate Network. It was not the highest paying job, but evidently someone was looking for a thief to snatch a piece from a high-end local gallery.
It was not a particularly expensive piece from her research, but it was from an up-and-coming local artist. A fan, perhaps? Steph did not question why a job request was placed; she took the job, she did the job, and she took her money when it was done.
There was no tight deadline on this one, so Steph was going to learn from mistakes and put in the legwork. The gallery was hosting an exclusive art show and one of her Syndicate contacts got her an invitation. What better way to case a gallery than to show up invited in a little black dress sipping champagne?
No one was going to question her age when she arrived with an official invitation. The whole point was to get her tipsy and in the mood to spend ludacris money on art. She considered using a fake name, but that barely seemed necessary in practice. Her identity was public in the city, even if she was not well known, so it could create complications later. As Silhouette, the whole point was to conceal her identity with her mask or her shadows, so if she was seriously questioned, she had already done something horribly wrong.
Steph was an early arrival, but not the first arrival. That would make her too memorable. She sipped from her champagne flute and casually perused the art on the walls. Most people in the gallery were either invited guests or attendants, but there was a pair she was curious about. Nonchalantly, her steps took her within listening distance of an older man and a younger woman talking. Discussing? Arguing? She was too curious not to eavesdrop, at least a little...
A map would not have hurt, but realistically, Steph needed to get better at using her resources. She was still adjusting to a world where her phone could direct her where she needed to go. The modernizations of Twenty-Twenty were still something she was picking up and adapting to her everyday life. It was amazing, but it took time.
After looking over her options with the selection of exceptionally-crafted rings, Stephanie eventually settled on a white gold band that split into a three cross wave around an oval emerald. She set up a small white backdrop. It was just a plain white surface to set objects on with a thin white backboard. The goal was to minimize distractions from the shot, create a contrast, and let the black velvet box cast a clean shadow.
While she worked, she acknowledged the woman she would be spending the next undetermined period of time with. ”Texas, you say? I’m a Carolina girl myself,” she admitted. ”Two girls making a place for themselves up north. Sounds like enough for a sense of kinship, don’t you think?” That seemed to be the theme of her friendships lately: shared struggles.
”Done much of building your life up here yet? You got the job thing settled,” she noted. ”I’m sure a gal like you has had no problem making friends. Maybe even snagging yourself a boyfriend or two?” Yes, it was not the most professional line of conversation, but this girl was a teenager just like her. If she was talking to some big boss, she’d change her behavior, but why not have a little fun with the girl the boss sent to her? She wasn't even flirting (yet)! So far, this was just friendly get-to-know-you chatter.
If Stephanie were in a different position like the one April found herself in, she would have handled things differently. Specifically, she would have not handled things. Hopped between beds of conquests and hotels, balancing a life of sex and crime. That was not what she got this time, though; those pieces of her pie chart were dwarfed by the need to shelter, protect, and feed Malia.
Those two indulgent pieces of pie though… they weren’t gone from her life.
Thinking about who they were in the future was an odd, detached experience. When April referred to her older self as a different person, Steph did not bat an eyelash. The people they had been really were different people. She only knew so much about the stranger she would have been once upon a time. ”You’ll figure out your own thing. Fortunately, while I’m sure I got better with a camera over the years, I’m no slouch now.”
They did have a sense of shared experience. That was rare, and not an opportunity Steph should ignore. Plus, she was being promised sex that would leave her thoroughly spent, which was indeed promising. She smirked off the comment, but their food arrived to break up the pace of the night. They could take time to appreciate the food, recount favorite treats and bad first dates.
And then came the dessert menu. Stephanie placed an order for tiramisu, but her eyes stayed on April. The wine was doing its part, but so was the persistent flirting of her dinner partner. As the waitress walked away, Steph leaned across the table and whispered, ”Sorry, I can’t turn down tiramisu. And maybe I want to torture you a little. Make you wait a little longer for what we both know is coming.”
Who was this girl? The way she laughed, it was like Silhouette could feel her smile through the darkness. Knowing she earned that smile left a flutter in the thief's chest she was unsure of what to do with. In the end, she decided ignoring it to plant a kiss on Zero's cheek was the best course of action. Just a totally normal moment with the woman trying to arrest her.
"Hey, I've never been caught," she pointed out through a yawn. "Not until The Hardy Boys figure out that door anyway." Evidently, the patrolling security was not trusted enough to know the access codes to the room. They would get it from a superior eventually, she guessed, but so far they were stuck trying to demand their way in. Maybe they had enough time for another... oh who was she kidding? Zero had left her thoroughly spent. "And what else would I say? They had to know I was doing something important."
Zero the Anti-Gravity Vigilante, also known as: Something Important.
Somehow content to relax until she was officially busted and piece things together from there, the haze of her afterglow only cleared up when Zero asked an obvious question. "Kind of," she admitted, ready to give too many details of her powers to a woman she should not trust with them. "It's like I can hop. Hippity-hop into one shadow and out of another. But... there's no shadow in here. It's too dark without..."
The grabbing for her neck.
Duh.
Grinning, Silhouette somehow begrudgingly freed herself from athletic limbs and scrambled to where two catsuits were bunched up on the floor. It took some feeling around to tell them apart, but the presence of LED lights woven in was a dead giveaway. She fumbled around, trying to guess where she would put a switch if her stealth suit doubled as a Christmas tree and...
"Aha!" The suit lit up, flashing and creating enough light to fill the small space. "Now we can... um... yeah..."
Silhouette lost her train of thought, finally able to see the very naked form of the woman she had indulged in for the better part of an hour. Seeing her now, recognizing by sight all the little places her hands had learned first, Silhouette was surprised. She was also blushing. Who was this girl? They were both nude, but at least they made the choice to keep their masks for some modesty.
Leaving Zero now to get caught was an option. It would be a funny option, too, but Silhouette knew she did not have it in her. Despite Zero literally trying to catch her and bring her in, Silhouette did not want to leave her to be caught alone. Who would antagonize her next heist?
Silhouette's bare tan skin melted into dark shadow. She felt around inside the LED-lit suit, but... "You dropped it along the way, you tricky fox." Minx? What was a sexy sneaky animal? On second thought, she fundamentally disliked that question.
She removed one of the LEDs and placed it on the floor. "Fine, you win this time, Zero. We're tied," she admitted, offering her hand to the vigilante. A small half-wall was casting a shadow now, allowing Silhouette to lead them into the darkness, and almost immediately out on a nearby rooftop from the shadow of a chimney.
Somehow managing to pull the suits along with them before they vanished, Stephanie looked down at the blinking suit as she turned the lights off and let her body shift back. The New York air was crisp and cool on her skin that still felt so hot. Zero's touch lingered. "You know, I have half a mind to take your suit as a souvenier and let you float home like that." She wouldn't though. Silhouette tossed the suit to Zero in the lowlight of the evening. She did not want to share that sight with anyone tonight.