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.
“You think so? I am not in the business to become famous though. Not on purpose anyway.” Again, she skirted away, walking back toward the window and looking out. God, he was flirting, wasn’t he? She leaned her forehead against the glass, staring out, suddenly feeling sullen. The fact that she was even responding wasn’t good. Not one bit. She sighed softly, “I will pay you $2500 for a portrait of me, nevertheless. Half down sound good to you?”
And then she walked to the door, grabbing for her notebook and writing a note for Sam so he knew she was looking for him. “Just let me know, okay? I should go. I need to be somewhere.” Where? Anywhere but there at the moment! She was going to go home and mull things over.
She fled, albeit at a stroll, toward Sam’s office, left the note, called a cab and headed outside to wait.
“Are you planning to sell it?” she asked, this time not moving because she didn’t want him to think she was afraid of him. No, she wasn’t. It was just that they had some kind of chemistry and it was best not to even bring it up. She loved someone else, that was her issue. And here Nate was coming along, being playful and doing things he should not when it came to her. It was all really foolish to even think of him in a manner of more than a friend. She had just met him two days prior!
“If you are, how much are you asking for it…” Yes, she was considering buying the painting if it meant trying to shake off the sudden jolt of his hand resting on her waist. God, so much trouble. Xavia hardly dared to breathe, for fear she would give away that she was now aware of the chemistry.
She cleared her throat again and then moved, turning and smiling at him. Hopefully, he would no longer pick up on anything. Hopefully he wouldn’t be so free with her space again.
“You don’t need to thank me…” she said softly, growing serious. She watched as he closed in on her personal space, and she didn’t know what to think. But he made a quip about her drying, and she gave a soft chuckle, “I only wilt when I am cold.” Her eyes didn’t really leave his face until her lashes lowered, and she bit her lip. “It wasn’t cold today, it was warm and rainy.” She felt the pressure of his hand on her waist, and looked back up at his face. A blush stole over her cheeks, and she moved away in a shy manner.
“It is lovely outside, for me.” She put a little distance between them by moving toward his painting. She hadn’t really entertained any thoughts about him as more than a friend, but there was something he did just then that shook her up a little. “I… I think this is a beautiful painting.” She cleared her throat, putting her hand up to her cheek to try and stifle the blush.
What in the world had he just done? She wasn’t supposed to even feel such electricity. She couldn’t even look at him now. She hadn’t even noticed any flirtation before, but he had to go and touch her. Now she wasn’t so sure what was going on. Oh boy.
She listened quietly as Nate opened up to her. She held no horror, nor ill judgment in her gaze as his eyes locked with hers. A couple of times, she tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, but more out of consideration than anything. When he was done speaking, she smiled a little, “I can assure you, your past does not frighten me in the least.”
Indeed, she had seen much worse in her life, and thievery was on the bottom of that totem pole. She didn’t gasp in outrage or storm out, she didn’t shake her finger at him or scold him, she simply sat there and accepted. “I used to squat in the house I now own and steal clothing. I suppose petty thievery isn’t nearly as deep as forging art, but it is technically the same sin. If I were to judge you for your past, I would be the pot and you would be the kettle.”
With that, she stood and moved to look out the window. “Nate,” and this was probably the first time she had used his name, “You do not have to be afraid to tell me the truth… I know some people might think ill of you for the things you did when you were younger, but I am, nor will I ever be that way…” She didn’t say that when she was a kid, she did some pretty stupid things herself, nor did she add that she had once been a judgmental ass. She wouldn’t say otherwise if he had asked her, but she wouldn’t bring it up unless he asked.
She turned to look at him, illuminated from behind when the sun came out for a few minutes. By that point, she was nearly dry. Her clothes were only slightly damp, and she looked as happy as a fat kid in a candy store.
“Well,” she started, drawling out slightly as she continued to pick at her bread, “Firstly, I wanted to thank you for you doing your job with competence. It seems like everyone else was being sluggish, including my lackluster ex manager.” She gave a snort, no surprise there really. “The main reason, though, is that I wanted to talk business with you.” She leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs the way most women do, then steepled her fingers. “I am willing to pay double what you are making if you would quit that job and be my personal security.”
She was serious, and he’d be able to tell by the look on her face. The woman meant business. “While I am glad that I am doing my job well enough to gain such admiration,” she cleared her throat, “I dislike them coming at me in my dressing room, trying to talk to me while I am trying to go back to the mundane life. It’s not just annoying, it is dangerous.”
Their food was served, and it was clear that it was good quality. Her vegetables were bright and smelled delicious, and both meals were arranged on their plates artfully. “The fact of the matter is, I cannot go another day without someone who is willing to stand outside of my dressing room to keep the creeps out. I wouldn’t be asking just anyone… But…” She heaved a sigh, stabbing at a green bean, “I will tell you something that I don’t talk about much. A few years ago, I was attacked and nearly abducted by some thugs. And this was eh… in my hotel suite at the time.” Then she took a bite and chewed slowly, thoughtfully, and thoroughly. After swallowing, she went on, “My body guard was hit in the head and knocked out. While he was one of the best, to me, it is clear that I need someone who won’t be overtaken so easily… Someone like you.”
“Well, that is good. I am glad.” She ran her fingers through the loose strands of hair by that point, she was starting to dry, and her hair was doing a fly-away thing. “Yes, you were about to tell me more about you before it got dark the other day.” The plant mutant moved toward one of the seats that the students would sit at, she thought it may be a bit too presumptuous to sit in the chair at his desk.
She looked at him, folding her hands in her lap and listening raptly. The funny part was that she wasn’t doing so in a joking manner, she was honestly listening. Her mouth curled up in a slight smile as she waited for him to reply to her.
“You think so? I am trying to get away from cover tunes, so thank you.” She didn’t look up from writing at first, so she hadn’t seen that he teleported. When she did look up, it was as the taxi was pulling up. “Are you ready?” She smirked, put her note pad away, and then got in. She gave the cabby the directions, and (assuming he got in) he started to drive through the back alleys to avoid traffic. Apparently he drove Xavia around a lot because he treated her like a regular, and he was kind of chatty.
It took about ten minutes for them to get to the place they were to eat at. Nothing too fancy, but more Posh than your average joe bar. Alquelonde was casual but the food was gourmet. The hostess didn’t even need to ask any questions, she just showed them to Xavia’s usual table with some friendly chatting on the way, asking about her day and what not. And then they were seated.
It wasn’t until after they ordered their food, which would be a vegetarian meal for her and whatever he ordered, drinks as well, that she spoke to him. “I am betting you wonder why I invited you to dine with me. I mean, aside from you being on top of your game and kicking the crap out of that jack ass back at the club.” She sipped at water, lifting her gaze toward his face while nonchalantly picking at the bread she pulled out of the basket
“Yes, I have been looking for him. I have not seen him around…” She gave a shrug and looked down at the flower, “I supposed I can leave him my information if you haven’t passed it along to him already.” She let her hand fall and pulled away from the desk, wandering over to a window to look out at the rain as it fell. “Though I don’t mind stopping in to chat with you,” she added over her shoulder.
Again, she was honest. But there was no obvious flirting or anything of the sort on her end. As far as noticing his admiration (it wasn’t stated as blatant either way), she was Captain Oblivious. As far as she was concerned, he was someone she liked to chat with, she saw him as an intelligent man with plenty to say.
“I am anxious to see my check being put to good use. I don’t want to sit on money, it would make me feel like a miser. I just want enough to live on at this point, I have already made some investments. I consider this one to be an investment as much as a Donation. Mind you, I would not be making any money off of this particular investment, but I would be helping the future of young people. Now if I could just find the mysterious headmaster.” She gave a laugh, and then leaned her hip on his desk.
“Oh yes. The rain is about as wonderful as the flowers.” Xavia was giving and honest reply as she followed the sound of his voice, then leaned against the door frame with a smile on her face. She wasn’t wearing make up, but didn’t need to, so there were no streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. Her hair was a wet pile on top of her head, some sopped tendrils clinging to her cheeks and neck. But she did not look the least bit unhappy… After all, the flower (she) just got watered by nature. She felt great.
She looked toward the painting and crossed her arms casually, admiring the work from where she leaned. “Beautiful.” With that, she strolled into the room to get a closer look. “You’re very talented, Nate.” She tilted her head as she studied the picture with an appreciative eye. “Very nice, indeed.”
The plant mutant moved over to his desk then, and looked to see if there was a flower in the vase again. If so, she’d do what she always did when encountering plant life, touching and caressing at the petals. She grew silent and thoughtful by that time, sighing some, but not for any particular reason.
Of course she had come to donate the money, or try to. But maybe it wouldn’t happen on that night either. If she could ever get a face to face meeting with the assistant headmaster… She didn’t want to leave a large check just sitting on the man’s desk, after all, because someone could just take it and try to use it for their own personal gain.
So instead, there she was, another encounter with Nate happening again. Not that she minded… He was pretty cool, she thought, pretty nice. He also seemed to like conversing with her, so that was cool as well. And now she had something else to admire about him: the fact that he was an artist. Not that being a teacher shouldn’t be admired either.
She wasn’t evil as far as doing whatever she wanted to, to get to the top… She was only evil when she absolutely had to be. Business and mundane were two different ball games. Xavia didn’t like being treated like crap, and she had a no bull policy ever since her first manager tried to screw her over as bad as he had. She used her power with responsibility, basically. Not just the money, but the gift.
When he replied to her with a time frame, she nodded and said, “Deal. Nice to meet you.” And that was just as she closed her door.
She was dressed before the fifteen minutes were up and out the door. If he wasn’t already out there, she was leaning against the building, clad in a simple cotton dress that was red with white polka dots, and a crop style jean jacket. She wasn’t riding her Harley tonight, so found no point in wearing leather. Her hair was swept up and clipped, so there were strands escaping here and there, and she’d downplayed her make up because she wasn’t on stage.
At some point, she pulled out a pad of paper and was working on writing a song, humming quietly and somewhat bored as she waited for him to come out. Every now and then, she’d tap her foot and read her work aloud.
Xavia listened while he spoke, then grew concerned when he seemed to start feeling bad. But he had decided it was time for him to take his leave, so she big him adieu after he was done speaking, then shook his hand, waved, and walked around to the front. She got on her Harley and put her helmet on, turned it on and was off.
A few days later, she returned to the school, but not on her bike because it was rainy. She loved the rain, but didn’t want to end up hurting herself by riding the bike in it. She traversed the city via taxi, not really owning a car. She got out, paid the cabby, and then headed toward the building. She moved slowly on purpose, tilting her head back and enjoying the down pour. By the time she got inside, she was almost drenched, but she felt amazing. She was in clothes that would dry fast; her dress was a red linen sun dress that fell to her calves in sort of a rockerbilly style. Her hair was already loose, otherwise the style may have been ruined.
She wasn’t soaked enough for a huge mess left in her wake, there were plenty of wet blotches. She had decided to go in before she could become a puddle. So she walked the halls in search of the person whom she was donating the money to, or her new friend.
“Hardly that…” she laughed. “Me? A star?” She shook her head and pocketed the notebook and number, pen soon to follow. “I have only toured once, and it was opening act. I do not write my own songs, though I wish I did. I am just me… Well, Layla on stage.” She heaved a sigh and shook her head, “But it doesn’t much matter. I have fun and make money doing it.”
She reached up and tucked a strand behind her ear. Her head tilted slightly, “You know, I know nothing about you. We’ve been talking about the school, and myself. Tell me about you.” Her eyes kind of danced with her amusement at herself for being selfish and not asking anything in regards to him.
“How long have you been working with youngsters?” she asked. She shifted on her heel, waiting patiently for an answer.
Xavia nodded as he spoke, and then smiled at the part where he mentioned his loyalty to her. That was probably the sweetest thing he had ever said to her. She chuckled a little when he tickled her ankle. When she stood up, it was to walk over to him and give him a hug. “Thank you.”
With that being said, she didn’t move this time, snuggling into him and closing her eyes. She had forgotten how nice it was to be close to this man. She had forgotten his scent, and the way his arms around her felt. It was good to know she could have both near again. She didn’t say anymore, she shifted so she was curled up in his lap. She wasn’t kissing him, though; there was time enough for that.
Her head rested on his chest, and she closed her eyes. If he remembered, she wasn’t as heavy as she seemed to be at the moment. Her body had hardened a little with muscle, and she was a little more padded in other places. His little flower wasn’t so fragile anymore, it seemed.
She watched as the security guards started coming out of the woodwork, then turned to her former manager and bit out, “Seriously, kissing up won’t help you. You are terrible, and you don’t do your job right. And then you insult me over the phone to someone? And you seriously expect me to pay you? You breached contract. I can sue you if I wanted to… I will if you even think of opening your fool mouth about me ever again and I find out. Please get the hell out of my face.”
“Layla, no! I swear, it won’t happen again.” By this point, he sounded kind of desperate. Why, if he thought ill of her, did he think she was going to keep him on? She rolled her eyes and pointed to the man who was now being tackled by more security guards, zip ties being pulled out and restraining him.
“If you gave a good gosh damn about me at all, this would not have happened.” With that, she walked away. When the man, Ted, was calming down, she put her hands up to the guards to hold them off from hauling him away just yet. “As for you, you should know I was only doing my job.” Her accent was a little thicker in her calm anger. One could tell she was restraining herself from going berserk, something she had learned to do over the passed few years. After all, no situation is as bad (save death, perhaps) as being tortured. “If you ever come near me again, I give this man…” she nodded to the shadow, “Permission to rip your privates off.”
With that, she padded off, mustering all the dignity she could as she headed back to the dressing room. She did not turn around until the rude one was hauled off. When she did, it was to call to the one who had initially come to help. “I need to change into real clothes. Then I want to get out of here. If you’re hungry, there is a place not too far from here, very good food; my treat. Also…” She was turning away by this point, and threw over her shoulder, “My name is Xavia.”
And then she was in her room to change. The only thing left to remind anyone of her presence was the vine that lay withering and brown on the floor, and the natural smell of roses.
- What kind of thread?