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.
Chase’s glance flicked towards Kalos as she offered her explanation. Something from her when he wanted to pretend… he puffed his cheeks out again, his brow furrowing.
“I don’t wanna pretend to be you if it scares you,” the human shifter mumbled, “Usually… people think it’s funny. They like to use my power to play tricks on grown-ups, that kind of thing… I haven’t scared anyone with it before.”
He made note of the Legos and their same-color piles, and began gathering loose ones, continuing to sort them.
>> "Why don't you wear your other face?"
Chase kept his attention focused on the Legos.
“I don’t like my other face,” he said simply, “Sometimes, up here, people will treat you bad for looking different. If I wear this face, people don’t treat me bad. Does that make sense?”
His gaze flicked to Kalos, swirling with a pensive, concerned orange-yellow. Maybe they had something like that, in the ocean? Chase backpedaled a bit.
“People are usually nice here, inside Xavier’s,” he assured her, “But outside, they aren’t always nice.”
Posted by Chase Taylor on Jun 14, 2017 10:47:06 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
Delta 7 demonstrated because he never had the words for what he did. He simply used his abilities. He didn’t own them—they belonged to SUPER. He used them for SUPER. As such, giving his powers a name would be unheard of.
Delta 7 padded closer to the mirror, his body feeling loose and a little exhausted as he wobbled closer to watch. Shifting after he’d already been shifted once today wasn’t the best idea, especially a full-body shift. He clambered onto the sink, peering into the mirror as his companion, likewise, transformed. He watched as his own face swam across Mirage’s features. There were minute differences, but only slightly.
“Whoa!” Delta 7 commented appreciatively, clasping his hands together, “You’re just like me!”
Maybe not “just” like him, but Delta 7 had never met someone with an ability like him. He stared at Mirage, his smile faltering.
“I’m glad that you’re in there.”
It seemed like a heartless thing to say. But if Mirage was like him, Delta 7 was certain of the fact that SUPER would want to use them. It was better that Mirage was in there, because in there they were safe.
“They can’t get you in there,” he clarified.
He wondered how the “others” Mirage mentioned would stack-up against SUPER agents.
The hall, which had previously been cast in the browned-out lights of the evening, silently shifted. A red light began to spin from its mount on the wall, sending a periodic bar of light skittering across Delta 7’s cell. Delta 7 looked over his shoulder, ears straining. There was the far-off murmur of the guard’s handheld radio, and retreating footsteps. Odd.
“Mirage,” Delta 7 gasped, touching a hand to the mirror, “The guard is leaving. The others—are they with you?”
A desperate expression befell his features—he didn’t want his friend in the mirror to leave, but understood the consequences if the guards reached “the others”. Maybe—maybe—Mirage could reach them first.
The dour young man remained sulking in his hideout. After he stopped being a tearful, snotty mess (well, he was still a mess, he’d just wiped it on his sleeves) Chase put his human face on again. Maybe he shouldn’t have yelled. Kalos was from the ocean, if she was telling the truth, so maybe she really thought that Chase had stolen her soul or whatever. Even if it did sound stupid to him.
There were footsteps approaching, and it didn’t take a lot of guessing to figure out who it was. They were small footsteps. Had to be Kalos. Chase didn’t say anything, at first, out of stubbornness. Tup-tup-tup. Pause. Fwish. There his pyramid was. Well, it was finished too. And… there was stuff on it. Tuptuptuptuptup. Kalos was gone.
Chase waited until the footsteps vanished, then leaned forward to inspect the pyramid. He poked at the flower-wielding figure, and then at the very-obviously-not-Legos bit. Pink and kinda rock-like. Chase prodded and then picked it up.
The shapeshifter pondered what to do next. Leave the pyramid and go back to his room? That wasn’t very nice. If Mama was here, she’d tell Chase he’d have to apologize. But he didn’t really do anything wrong? At the very least, he should go back. To clean up his mess. Not to apologize.
Chase slid the pyramid out of the way and unfolded himself, frowning. He picked up the creation, replacing the coral, and then padded back in the direction of the room where the Lego pile was. He kept his eyes down as he passed some of the concerned big kids, puffing his cheeks out. Nosey Figgins. He paused at the entry to the other room. Kalos was there. Awkwardly, the boy walked over, sitting to the side of the smaller pink child.
“It looks really cool,” the boy admonished, regarding the finishing touches that Kalos had made, “Is this part from you?”
He pointed at the coral sprig. Bashfully, he kept his gaze down, despite wearing his human face now.
Now other kids were swarming—big kids, mostly, investigating the racket that Kalos had been making. Chase rubbed at his face, covering his face with his arm.
>> "I didn't know you would steal my essence. You- you had my voice! I need it for me."
“I didn’t steal anything!” Chase snapped. It was the same argument he was always on the receiving end of. Except, this time, it was about his power. And, this time, he hadn’t actually stolen anything. Kalos was just. Being. Stupid!!! “That’s not how my power works! I just copy things! It's just pretend!! You still had your voice!”
The word “stupid” was trying to fight its way out, but he knew he’d get in trouble for calling Kalos “stupid”. Momma would know.
Kalos tried to shoo the big kids away, but they had to be sure everything was okay.
“Hey, dude, are you okay?” one of the older boys murmured, “Chase?”
He was extending a hand towards Chase, and Chase became acutely aware of the fact that he was still sitting in natural-form on the ground.
“Don’t touch me!” Chase warned, “Get away!”
He got up to his feet, still wobbly. He pushed a clenched hand into one of his eyes, which was dribbling tears. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This was all stupid! His face was hot, and now he was crying, and his butt hurt from falling on the Legos. And worst of all, all of these kids saw his real face, not his human one! Chase wobbled to his feet, pushing past the big kids, towards the hall. He didn't want to play with Kalos anymore.
The shifter child hobbled down the hallway, churlish, as he began putting his human-form back on. Everyone had seen him. Everyone! They'd seen his gross skin, and his gross eyes, and his stupid hair. And it was all Kalos's fault! Stupid Kalos!
Chase found a niche to tuck himself in, in another lounge area. There was a gap between the wall and an arm chair perfect for a twelve-year-old. He sank into a seated position, drawing his knees to his chin. If you looked close enough, you could see the crown of his head and his ratty shoes.
It wasn't fair! He was just trying to show off. People usually liked his tricks.
She’d liked the hair, and faux!Kalos was sure that she’d like faux!Kalos!! It was a good trick!!
Actual!Kalos did not like faux!Kalos. In fact, she screamed right in the doppelganger’s ear, a cutting, shrill shriek. It was enough to frighten the doppelganger into letting go, and stumbling back. The form reverted as soon as he released her, and the boy fell hard onto the Legos. The geometric edges stabbed unforgivingly but cut no skin.
Unshifted and inhuman, the child scrabbled to his feet, vaulting over the couch to escape the screaming girl. However, as he was post-shift had just fluctuated eleven inches shorter and taller once again, Chase was wobbly on his feet. He stumbled and nearly ate carpet. Fearful red irises sat against black sclera, and his wavy two-tone hair fell into his eyes. Chase theatrically held a hand to his ear, looking dizzily over the top of the couch.
“You said you wanted to see teeth!” the shifter-child protested, “That’s the only way I could copy your teeth! You didn’t have to bust my eardrum!”
That was an exaggeration. But Chase was scared and maybe just a little annoyed and really, really embarrassed. Usually other kids liked his tricks. He grit his teeth, kneeling as the world spun around him. If he leaned on the couch he could probably stand. Instead he squinted his eyes shut and tried not to cry. Babies cried. And he was twelve. And he wasn't going to cry in front of a dumb, pink girl who screamed in his ear.
Posted by Chase Taylor on Jun 8, 2017 19:31:46 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
>> "That's good. Good work. We can use that. We'll find you. I move through mirrors. If you have a mirror, or any surface that reflects well, I can find you."
Delta 7 nodded. At some point, his tears had dried. They could use that. They could find him. She could move through mirrors and find him. He could get out of there. Something about the way Mirage murmured that gave Delta 7 hope. It wasn’t that they “could” find him. They “would” find him. They’d get him out of this place. Away from the monsters.
>> "What are your powers, exactly?..."
Delta 7 tapped the mirror contemplatively, before backing away from the mirror. He cast a scrutinizing stare at Mirage, and extended his arms. Short, dark hair—pale skin—pale eyes… the tendrils of his skin began to move, stretching slightly. Thankfully, the mark had been female, so that form was familiar. The tendrils slithered until they found a female form, similar to Mirage’s but not-quite-right.
“It’s not perfect,” the doppelganger mumbled, their voice unaltered, “But if I had something that belonged to you, no one could tell us apart. And I can ask questions of the things… learn more about a person… find them.”
His mutation considered, it was apparent as to why they kept Delta 7. He was a tool. Delta 7’s attention slipped, as did the form. Shifting without an item was like holding your breath. It was easy to let go.
The girl snorted at Chase’s observation, and the child furrowed his brow at her? What?
“I mean, they are cool!” he backpedaled, “I just can’t mimic teeth that are too different! I like your teeth!”
Kalos said something about not having things.
If he wasn’t blabbering now, he certainly started to once Kalos started unbuckling her overalls. Chase went into a panic—he was twelve, now, where changes began happening and children became acutely aware of their own bodies.
“Nonononono!” the boy protested, covering his eyes, “Please, no, keep your overalls. No!”
He hazarded a glance at his pink companion.
“Up here, you have to keep clothes,” Chase said, his cheeks hot as he got to his feet, “If you are wearing the clothes, you have to keep them on. Unless you go to the doctor, sometimes they put you in paper gowns, or if you’re going to bed you put on pajamas. Otherwise, up here, you have to keep your clothes.”
The definitely-embarrassed boy was definitely rambling now. Now that he was standing, he could tell he was taller than Kalos. Quite a bit.
“Here, I have an idea,” Chase said, starting to raise his hand, “Is it cool if I touch your overalls?”
Kalos passed the boy the already-unhooked strap, and Chase took it into his hand. As soon as the buckle made contact with his hand, his arms began to thin and adopt a twin, pinkish hue. The transformation wove its way up his arm, across his face, down his chest and other arm, and to his toes. The tendrils slithered into place, creating an identical Kalos in boys’ clothes, which now did not fit.
“Now I look like you!” faux!Kalos said pridefully as the seams of the tendrils smoothed themselves, cementing the illusion. Even her voice was the same. And…
Faux!Kalos grinned, “And my teeth look right, too, don’t they?”
Chase let the tightly-curled hair atop his head revert to the "natural", wavy dark brown. It shot back out on its own accord, falling in waves about its eyes. Kalos had hastily gotten to her feet, practically dropping her project.
>> "Can you doooooo teeth?"
Her teeth were weird. Pointy and uneven and pink. Not normal human teeth. Not something that Chase could fudge independently.
"Your teeth are... different," the boy said plainly, "I probably could, if I borrowed something from you. Something that belongs to you."
Not on his own, though. Her teeth were just too weird.
The things Kalos said didn't always make sense. As soon as Chase though he was understanding, she began to say more confusing things. It sounded like... according to her... demigods were mutants who had powers you couldn't see, great hair and shallow smiles... while physical mutants would be gorgons?
"So... are demigods and... gorgons... both mutants?" Chase clarified, "According to you?"
It was so much easier just to call them all mutants.
"Up here they just call them all mutants," Chase mumbled. With each layer, the process of building the pyramid was growing shorter. Third layer was almost done.
Kalos was looking at him, and the shifter child looked back, inclining his head. His eyes lingered somewhere between a puzzled aquamarine and a curious magenta-pink.
>> "Can you look like ugly people?"
"I can look like any people," Chase said proudly, "I just need something that belongs to them. Or I can do little things too, like..."
He looked around, searching for inspiration. His gaze settled on the crown of Kalos's head. As if pulled by an invisible string, his hair began to retract into his skull (or so it seemed) and as it did, it began to scrunch, developing that "kink" that also occupied Kalos's hair. Her color was strange, though, not a natural humanoid color, so Chases's hair transitioned to a strawberry blond.
Kalos accepted the invitation, inspecting his hair as though it were a smelly sock. There was the faintest tingle at the physical contact, but on the crown of his head it wasn't unpleasant. Just like the subsiding pins-and-needles after sitting on your foot for too long.
>> "I am from a bad ocean."
"Oh," Chase said simply, lifting his gaze when the tingling subsided. She found another block. That explained why she didn't know things. Like how he didn't know things when he first ran away from Mommy and Daddy. Chase echoed, "You're from the ocean."
>> "Demigod is person with power, but you're not seeing it."
Kalos seemed to find something she wanted to make, laying on her stomach and beginning to build.
>> "Hoho, I like this."
"Yeah, like that," Chase said encouragingly, returning to his pyramid and choosing blocks seemingly without intention.
"Here, they call 'demigods' something else," the boy hazarded, without looking up from his task at-hand. Second layer of his pyramid was finished, onto the third, "Here, they call them 'mutants'. And there's a lot of them, that can do all sorts of things."
"Like... you're a mutant, because you're pink and have..." Chase tapped his head, "...spines. And I'm a mutant 'cuz I can look like other people, sometimes. There's a whole bunch of mutants who can do things... and then there's humans, who can't."
"Yeah?" Chase pried. This girl was getting weirder and weirder by the second. The shifter child supposed he couldn't hold it against her, though-- she was, after all, a girl. Albeit a pink girl with cool spiny rock things sticking out of her (easily like a +10 for the coolness factor), but a girl nonetheless. Girls were always weird, even when they were cool.
>> "Your hair has smooth. Demigod smooth. The feel is not same."
"Fine," Chase admonished, pausing in building his pyramid and leaning forward, "You can touch my hair."
Whether or not she accepted the invitation was up to her.
"Kalos, where are you from anyway?" the boy pried, lacking the usual decorum of an older person, "You talk funny. And you use big words like 'demigod'. I don't even know what that means."
And she touched people's hair, and clicked blocks together, and called Lego's "let's go's".
Chase blinked, a confused spectrum of colors weaving through his irises when the girl (at least, she sounded like a girl), dropped the blocks. His brow stitched. He wasn't mad or anything, he just wanted to know what she was doing.
>> "I have the name Kalos. I want to play let gos."
"Kalos," Chase repeated, "That's a cool name."
Like a... ninja. Or something. Chase added another block to his pyramid, his tongue poking out of his mouth with concentration. He assumed that Kalos knew what Lego's were (despite the fact that she'd said it wrong), and assumed that the invitation would be enough to invite her to join him.
"I'm building a pyramid," Chase said, "What do you think you'll build?"
She was tapping on blocks again.
>> "Can I touch your hair?"
The shifter child inclined his head. It was mostly his hands and arms that were sensitive to touch, so it would probably be okay if someone touched his hair. Still, it didn't hurt to ask.
Chase became aware of the pink person when they padded closer to the chaotic spill of Legos. The shifter-child glanced up, briefly, to see who it was-- then stared longer when he realized that it was someone about his size (maybe a little bit smaller). And they looked really cool-- he wasn't sure if they were a guy or a girl, given their short hair. He'd have to ask.
They grabbed one Lego... then another... and began to tap them together, seeming puzzled.
"What are you doing?" Chase inquired plainly, without a hint of judgement in his tone. The boy remained cross-legged on the floor, looking at the new person with his own look of puzzlement.
"Wanna play Legos?" the child pressed-on, "My name's Chase."
Chase sat cross-legged on the floor in the living room of the Mansion, his backpack to the side of him and his back to one of the many couches. He was at the crucial period where it was debatable as to whether or not Legos were too babyish to play with. Today, however, the twelve-yer-old had deemed them acceptably big-kid-ish toys. As such, he was currently building a pyramid of Legos upon one of he flat, green Lego sheets. The base was 12 x 12, and he was currently starting on the second tier.
This was one of the pitfalls of going to a school where most of the attendees were teenagers. They considered themselves to be "so far away" from the years of Legos. Those were nostalgic memories from their tween or childhood years, and they were "so much more mature" than that.
Stupid big kids. Chase puffed a cheek out as he built. He'd never be like that! He'd play alone forever if he had to, but he'd never be one of those stupid, Lego-hating big kids!!
Posted by Chase Taylor on Jun 1, 2017 12:27:26 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
steelblue / skyblue
not interested
single
791
71
Aug 26, 2024 21:57:29 GMT -6
Sophy
The other boy was yelling at him, shouting some unintelligible word, and proclaiming that they'd missed him. Delta 7 remained rooted in his spot, his hard eyes watching the larger boy. The silence drew out between them, the questions sitting heavily upon the air.
Was he okay? No. Did they hurt him? Yes.
Delta 7 was not required to answer these questions, because the boy before him had not initialized the proper procedure for asking questions. There was a crackle of static, and a disembodied voice came over a speaker implanted in the cieling.
<<Operative, what is your designation?>>
"Delta Seven," the child reported.
<<Affirmative. Delta Seven, what is your full identification number?>>
"Experiment 70471-DC."
In other words, Experiments 70471-- Delta Candidate.
<<Affirmative. Delta 7, what is your affiliation with the individual before you? Do you recognize this individual?>>
There was a pause as Delta 7 surveyed the older boy. His gaze was analytical, scanning the larger boy from head-to-toe, before locking eyes with him.
"Negative."
<<Good. Delta 7, new directive: diagnostic assessment->>
The restraints around his own wrist, and around the bigger boys' wrists, gave a mechanical beep, and a whir, before unhinging themselves. Delta 7's restraints clattered to the floor. He remained immobile.
<<-unarmed physical combat with the individual before you. Objective, obtain a personal artifact and incapacitate.>>
