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.
Though it sounds like the general consensus is going to be fairly negative. xD
As for any specific group posts, there aren't any going right now. I believe I've mentioned this, but you're likely to expect those around phase 2 of the Riot Plot. For now, though, if you're getting directly involved with any government officials doing this, just go ahead and post it here so people can stay informed. ^^
Kara laughed softly at the thought of adding robots to her story. Boys...why did they always have to make everything so...exciting? Why couldn't quiet drama be enough?
Carter began machine-gunning his keyboard, presumably making something that was between Rambo and artistic poetry. So...Carragail joined him.
A young man pulled into the parking lot of the Mayfield Regional Hospital. Getting slowly out of the beat-up Camry, he walked straight through the doors and up to the front desk.
"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked. She was bright and perky. She countered the young man's mood perfectly.
"Carson Phillips. I'm here to visit a...erm...I think she's a patient."
"Okay. Can you tell me her name?"
"Louise Trawley."
The receptionist tapped halfheartedly on her keyboard. "No, I don't see her."
"She'd be in the morgue."
The receptionist stopped typing and simply stared at Carter. His face was expressionless, but hers was on the border of shock. "I'm...I'm sorry..."
"Don't be. We weren't exactly close."
She nodded. "Um...yeah. Now I see her. She's on the list."
"What room?"
"Um..." her voice faded out. The receptionist began nervously glancing between her computer and Carter's neck. His short brown hair. Anywhere but his eyes.
"Is there a problem?" Concern was drawing into Carter's voice.
"Um...would you be able to provide proof of your relationship to her?"
"What? Why?"
"Well, you're...um...not listed as a relative of hers."
"I'm...not?"
"No...no you're not. It's fine, though. I can fix it. Do you...have a...um...a birth certificate on you?"
Kara stopped.
Wouldn't that...fix the whole problem?
Damn...it would, wouldn't it? She mentally swore a few times. Had she really just resolved her main conflict before it had even started?
Kara glanced up at Miles, who was still typing madly away. Maybe he knew some contrived excuse out of this connundrum she'd accidentally dragged herself into?
Se decided to check.
Nervously raising her hand, she squeaked, "U--Um...d--do you...know...any reason someone...wouldn't have a...um...a birth certificate?"
Kara glanced up from her homework, only partly paying attention to the Bon Jovi.
"WHOOoa HO! Liiiivin' on a praaayer!"
She knew that ringtone. Which meant she knew exactly what was coming.
She calmly picked up the iPhone and slid the answer button over.
"Hey, Carragail! How's my favorite little mutie!?"
She flinched. There it was.
"H-hi, dad. And...I'm okay."
"Well, that's good to hear, hun."
Kara glanced around the room, noting both the closed door and Anita's disappearance. Good. "Y--yeah. How're you?"
"Well, to be honest, I'm not feeling too great."
"Are you...like...sick?"
"What? Oh, god no..." he laughed slightly. "Just work is all."
"Wh--what's wrong?"
"Well...you know that internet video that's been goin' around?"
"Um...which one?"
"Then I guess you haven't seen it. Trust me, you'd know what I'm talking about if you had."
"O-okay..."
"Basically, its some video about police brutality, and it has a bunch of Mutant Rights groups up in arms. They're all crying...I guess racism is the word."
"That sounds...like...a hassle."
"It is, it really is. Anyway, the Senator from New York...Rick? You remember Rick, right? He got the bright idea to host a campaign about being Mutant Friendly. Genius, really..."
"Dad, I--I don't...see where this is..."
"I'm getting to that, hun. Basically, he has a bit of a problem with it. He needs help. He needs someone in that community that he can go to..."
"Dad..."
"...get to know the dos and don'ts when dealing with Muties..."
"Dad, p--please..."
"...and have someone to help him out with all this..."
"Please, just..."
"...and since he didn't know anyone, and I knew you, I pointed you out to him."
There was a long pause on the line, while she processed what she was hearing.
So...this is something I thought of a little while ago, and I thought it might be fun to play with (especially as phase 1 nears a close).
Basically, the general idea is that in response to the internet video, a handful of Senators and House Representatives decide to launch a big, fancy, "We're-mutant-friendly" campaign. So...lots of political ads and posters portraying your local Representative or Senator as "Friendly with the Mutant Community". (It's important to note that not every Congressman is doing this. By a handful, I mean, like, 4 or 5, with them centralized in New York and the states around it.)
There aren't a whole lot of ways that people can get really involved at the moment in time, and it's more along the line of something your character might see and react to. In later phases, however, I could kinda see this getting just a little more prominent.
So her suspicions were confirmed. Both of them. He was writing a swords-and-sorcery thing, Which happened to be something that a lot of new writers defaulted to (or so Kara was told) She'd had another suspicion confirmed, but she ignored it for now.
As best as she could, anyways...
"How about you? What are you writing about?"
'Bless you and your perfect timing, Carter!'
"It's...um..." That was when she realized: she was using him as a muse. How exactly would he feel about that? If he was anything like her, he'd panic. (He was nothing like her, but it's good to be careful)
So she kept it as vague as possible. "Um...it's...about this g-guy...whose mom was, like...missing...you know. And then she dies...and no one'll...like...let him see her." She turned red with embarrassment. "That's all I've got."
Then she thought about his little story, and the most obvious problem. "And...why not, like, let them have computers? In your story, I--I mean. Like...its whatever you want it to be...right? That's fa--fantasy? So why make it...like...the same old thing that everyone does? I mean..." Realizing she was going on a bit of a rant, she slumped into her chair and muttered, "S--sorry, I'll...shut up..."
With a quiet little sigh, Kara half-heartedly deleted Carter's death scene and tried to start again. But she couldn't help herself. She couldn't get going again. All she could think of was unique and interesting ways to murder Carter Phillips.
She turned to the real-life Carter Phillips, who seemed almost as angry as she was. Slamming his keyboard and all that...She noticed a few people looking over in more curiosity than anything, and instinctively hid herself a little bit.
Then Carter did the unthinkable.
He leaned over.
She felt herself panic slightly as his head crossed into the Danger Zone, and she felt herself scooting her chair backwards to get him back out of it. Sure, he was trying to stay quiet, but...one does not simply enter Kara's Danger Zone, no matter the circumstance. It is folley.
"I'm sorry, but building computers won't do. Do you have any other hobby ideas? Preferably something old-timey?"
Old-timey, fiction, and beginning writer...he was totally writing a swords-and-sorcery fantasy, wasn't he?
She decided to check.
"W--what's wrong with it? And...why old-timey? Is it...like...a fantasy...or something?"
Once Sarah walked by her, she turned to face the cashier in question. Sensing he was being stared at, he turned to face her.
She stood up as straight as possible, mustered up the most ferocious voice she could pull together (one that honestly surprised herself), and told him in a voice that barely reached him, "Disrespect the circle again, and it'll be the last thing you do."
She turned away and walked through the door that Sarah was holding open. Afraid she might giggle and make herself look non-credible, she quickly ducked around the nearest corner before cracking up softly to herself. She imagined that teens face, and it made her double over with laughter. She only hoped that Sarah either didn't notice or didn't spoil it.
Falling against the nearest wall, she muttered to herself, "Oh my god, that was brilliant."
She sat there, listening to him describe what a work of fiction was, rather than answer the actual question. Which confirmed it. She was being written about.
Invest in internet. Become billionaire. Flee to moon.
"Do you mind?" She almost thought that was Carter talking to her, like he had split-personalities or something. Unfortunately, his target was somethone altogether worse. Namely, the librarian. Sure, it was a pretty minor offense. Sure, the librarian seemed understanding. Sure, this was her first offense against library rules in almost a decade.
She still felt like fleeing the place quicker than if it'd become a crime scene.
Then Carter did the worst. He stood up...
...and started walking towards her table.
No.
Shoo!
Begone, ye vile creature!
Petrificus Totalis!
Alas, her attempts at psychic suggestion failed miserably. Despite her best efforts, Carter sat down across from her. So she took revenge in the page of her story.
The receptionist stopped typing and simply stared at Carter. His face was expressionless, but hers was on the border of shock. "I'm...I'm sorry..."
Then, Carter spontaneously caught fire, and died a horrible, painful death.
Kara glanced behind her, at the book he had mentioned. Sexual Diseases and how to Treat Them. She chuckled to herself softly, turning back to her computer screen. Okay, laughing at people certainly isn't cool, but she couldn't help herself that time. That was pretty funny.
"How odd. I thought it read Sexual dishes and how to Eat Them."
Kara burst out laughing for a second, before slapping her hands over her mouth and glancing around the room. That was loud. That was really loud. People were staring. Kara returned to her blushed state and shrank behind her laptop.
"I'm sorry, I...I...was indeed staring. I didn't even know that book was there. I've got this homework I've got to do and I was just...drifting. Yeah. That's a cool ring you've got there. Is there any meaning or story behind it?" As he said this, his fingers landed on his keyboard, expectant, like racecars at a starting line, and...
Was he writing about her?
Was he seriously writing about her?
Oh dear GOD!!!
'Just answer the question, Kara.' She tried talking and failed. Then tried again, and managed to stammer out something along the lines of, "Oh...n--no. I just...think...it looks...cool..."
She stared over at him, almost frantic. Her brain was racing, desperately looking for a way out of the awkwardness. 'New topic, new topic, new topic!'
'Heh, Sexual Dishes.'
She chuckled, relaxing slightly at the same time. It was just too hilarious, she couldn't help herself.
'Okay, Kara. New topic.' "What...what's the assignment?"
A young man pulled into the parking lot of the Mayfield Regional Hospital. Getting slowly out of the beat-up Camry, he walked straight through the doors and up to the front desk.
"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked. She was bright and perky. She countered the young man's mood perfectly.
"Carson Phillips. I'm here to visit a...erm...I think she's a patient."
"Okay. Can you tell me her name?"
"Louise Trawley."
The receptionist tapped halfheartedly on her keyboard. "No, I don't see her."
"She'd be in the morgue."
The receptionis
Kara stopped typing, glancing over at Real-life-Carson. He was glancing back, and Kara felt her face get really, really red.
No, he wasn't glancing. He was staring.
Very, very intently.
Central Park was quite lovely this time of year.
Kara slid her laptop so that it hid as much of her as was physically possible. Then, peeking around the side to see if he had stopped yet, she asked, "W--wh--why are you...staring...at me?"
After her reply to Carter Phillips, she shrunk back into her chair and glanced around the room. She noticed a few people glancing toward her and Carter, seemingly annoyed at their noisemaking (what other explanation was there?). Kara blushed more and sank deeper into the dark pit that was her chair. She should have just gone to the Grounds.
"Oh, I know, but I'm not talking. I'm whispering."
Startled by Carter's words and caught totally off-guard, she stammered out a quick little, "Oh. O-okay..."
'Okay, now he's clever, huh?'
Carter Phillips was well into his teenage years when he realized that his mother was dead. He took an extra week off of school, "borrowing" his dad's Camry to try and visit the morgue she was being held at. They d
"Off the top of your head, could you tell me a cool hobbie for someone to have?" Carter's voice completely interrupted her thoughts (and her words). The Mansion Grounds were seeming much more attractive now. Maybe even Central Park. Or the Moon.
Speaking of the moon...Kara returned to Earth realizing that her face looked pretty stupid. She immediately ground her teeth shut ant thought about his question. What was it again? Cool hobbies? She went down the appropriate mental list.
Fencing? A bit too cliche'd. Guitar? Too common. Bollywood Dancing? More culture than an actual hobby. Chess Boxing? Bunny Jumping? Okay, now she was really into the zone of weird.
Kara waited patiently and silently for Susie (Her laptop. Again, not her choice) to boot up. It took forever, as per usual, and then took another forever to open up a blank word document.
Kara was eager to start writing. To escape deep into the world of her imagination, to become anyone she wanted, to create and play out a fascinating and complex plot of love, war, betrayal, and heroism, and all she had to do was...
figure...
out...
what...
to...
type.
She glanced around, searching the nearby books, as if one of them would pop out of nowhere and say, "Here's an idea!"
She spotted the words 'Moby Dick' on a nearby shelf.
Call me...
Someone walked by, carrying a copy of 'A Tale of Two Cities'.
Call me... It was the best of times, it was...
She eradicated what she'd written completely. This was absurd! This was hopeless! She'd never been very good at beginnings, and today more than usual, she seemed to be particularly bad at them.
Her eye wandered around the massive library, looking for inspiration. And she found a young boy at a nearby table.
Short (but everyone looked short in a chair), teenage, with dark brown hair. He, too, was sitting in front of a laptop, looking perfectly distraught.
So she used that.
Carter Phillips was well into his teenage years when he realized that he didn't have his mother was dead.
'There,' she thought. 'I have successfully created a mopey teenager. Now to make him talk...'
"Psst! Hey! Hi! How are ya?"
She was about to start writing that, only to realize that her character talking to her was not internal dialogue. Glancing sideways, she saw Carter Phillips staring at her, having just spoken words.
Her eyes went wide, and her face turned bright red. "U-Um...o-kay," she squeaked, her voice barely above a whisper. "You--know you're n--not supposed to...um...talk...in a library."
Carragail had exiled herself from her own room. Namely because of her brand-new roommate. Not that her roommate was particularly off-putting, even with the tail. It was just her music. Angry lyrics and bass drops that were loud enough for Kara to be able to dance to them. And they were coming through headphones, to top it all off.
Kara shuddered as she wondered exactly what horror that poor girl's eardrums were being subjected to, right before she turned and walked into the Mansion's Library.
She'd found this place only a couple weeks ago, and it immediately became her second home. She'd always felt a little more comfortable around books. She had no idea why, but she still loved it.
For a brief moment, she let herself glow, just a little.
Then she saw a couple people look at her, and she blushed and skittered to the nearest empty table. After all, she wasn't really presentable. Having kicked herself out of her room with much haste, she was still wearing a pair of black-and-purple sweatpants, and a bright green Christmas sweater that her mom had "made for her" when she was ten. (she'd found one just like it in a Fred Meyer a couple years later)
So she quickly hid herself behind her laptop, which was itself followed by a rainbow-colored composition notebook (she had no choice in the color. They were leftovers from her sisters). She quickly busied herself with the both of them, glancing back around the library again. Thankfully, no one was paying attention to her anymore.
'Finally,' she thought to herself. 'Some peace and quiet.'
And with all that settled, she opened a word document and began to type.
Kara immediately flared up bright red, turning towards Sarah and frantically waving her hands. "Oh, no no no no, you---you don't have to," she stammered awkwardly, before noticing that Sarah was giving her space to make a run for the door. All too happy to oblige, Kara scuttled between the woman and the counter and cracked open the door.
Then she paused. And thought. And smiled slightly.
The beginnings of a little practical joke was forming in her mind. And while pretty much every inch of her brain was screaming at her to just go, go back to the street, go back to the mansion, go cower in her room (which she still had yet to share), the opprotunity was almost too good to resist.
'What the hell,' she thought to herself. 'Go for it.'
So she opened the door, standing to one side and making a gesture of, "You first," towards Sarah. She kept her attention on Sarah, but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the cashier rolling his eyes and half-heartedly returning to his book.
"We're on the corner of 7th Ave and West 58th street. We have a mutant assassin that uses shadows so tell them to bring spot lights."
Kara nodded at the man's statement and talked as fast as she possibly could to relay the information to the dispatcher. Granted, the fastest she could speak was at normal human speed. But she managed to get out the address of the rather ruined shop, and something about a shadow mutant, before the dispatcher interrupted her.
"It's okay, just calm down. How close are you to the site?"
"I'm...um...a couple feet or so..."
The same man who told her the address of the shop turned to her and shouted, "Lets go! You're not safe here. You gotta move. Now!"
She felt her body began to panic as she backpedaled as quickly as she could.
Right before she was tackled from behind.
She hit the ground shoulder-first, her cell-phone flying out of her hands only to break into several components a few yards down the sidewalk. And any semblance of self-control Kara had went up in smoke the minute that guy touched her. She started screaming at the top of her lungs, flailing wildly in a desperate attempt to escape. Her brain kept screaming at her, "ERROR! ERROR!" In another one of her wild, knee-jerk reactions, her whole body subsequently flashed with enough intensity to light up half the street.
