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.
When she pulled away, it was reluctant. But she did so because she felt kind of selfish. “You have been here for hours and I have been talking about me. Tell me about what has happened with you since we last saw each other. Hmm?”
With that, she moved to sit again and took her beer back up, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from the kiss they had just shared. Back when they first knew each other, all it took was a kiss and she was putty. But she had grown up, and as hungry as she was to be with him, she couldn’t just do that.
He was a stranger again, at this point. Not in the literal sense, of course, but figuratively. She didn’t know him anymore in some ways, even if she knew what he was like. Gazing at him intently, she waited.
“Mhmm…” she replied, kind of in a daze at the moment. “What are they?” She was so engrossed in what she was doing that she didn’t even think about her answer. 3. 2. 1. – “Oh!” She snapped out of it and the plant in her palm withered away and fell to the ground. She backed into him, her head possibly hitting his, and she kind of put some distance between them. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, had ever seen this part of her gift. They kind of caught her in a moment that she usually kept private, and she had been startled to accidentally let him in.
When Jupiter merely kissed her cheek, she didn’t move yet. But she kind of laughed and pulled back to look at his face, “I do not want to give up this house when I have worked so hard to make it a home. But I will make compromise. I will let you teach me the ways of the warrior, if you try to become more at ease with me staying in my house.” Xavia looked into his eyes, she was more serious than he may have ever known her to be. In fact, now that the tears were dry, he might notice how much healthier she looked than ever before, her hair was shiny, her skin was smoother, her eyes more alight. She had healed in a lot of ways!
Whether he answered or not, she’d lean in and kiss him. No, no trauma. No fear, she just gave him what he was afraid to do because she wasn’t the fragile little flower he thought her to be anymore, she was as strong as ever. And it was a lovely kiss.
As they walked and talked, she took notes, and eventually, she stopped and stared for a moment down the hallway. Then she turned to him and canted her head, “Well, if the school itself is in good shape, how about you take me to the Garden?” When he complied, she followed, eyeballing the place on their way out.
Once outside, she breathed in the fresh air with a smile, the very grass beneath her feet joyous at her return, it seemed, for it seemed springier and more lively to walk upon. Once they reached the garden, the flora closest to her began to perk up and she gave a happy chuckle, touching them as if they could react like animals or humans. Well, they could to her, anyways.
“Ah, now this is the place to be…” she drawled, her manner changing a bit to more at ease than he may have seen her. “Beautiful.” She crouched down and put her face real close to a cluster of flowers, inhaling their scent. It was then that she sort of got lost in her own little world, which she tended to do whether there were other people around her or not.
And then she caught sight of a flower she hadn’t seen before, gravitating toward that and purring in absolute fascination. Crouching down, she leaned in and rubber her cheek against the blossoms, her hands delving in to caress the stems and leaves of the plants. She closed her eyes and inhaled, and the scent around her went from roses to that of the flower. Xavia did something that might seem daft to others, and even licked the blossom. When she was done, she pulled back some, looking at the shape and color, everything. If he was watching, he would see her lift her palm skyward, and begin to sprout the same plant in her hand.
She stood in the middle of her dressing room, pulling a knee high stocking over her leg and then placing a green, patent pump onto her foot. She sighed when she could barely wiggle her toes, they were slightly too tight. But there was no time to have her manager run out and get a bigger pair. Xavia was supposed to be on stage in less than three minutes. The stage manager knocked and then burst in, not waiting for an answer, “Layla, you’re on.” She gave a nod to the feminine man, saluting and then following him out. “By the way, lady, you’re looking fab. I love that shade of green on you.”
“Thank you, Ricky. I just wish I had picked it out.” They both laughed at her reply, and she waved as they separated, he toward another dressing room, she toward the back stage door. Her make up artist assaulted her with a last minute touch up and people were running around to make last minute changes to things, and she remained calm, walking toward the X that was painted on the stage floor in a subtle shade of gray that was only slightly different from the rest of the stage.
“Ladies and Gentleman,” came the announcement, “Please welcome back to our stage after a year exploring America: the up and coming, the beautiful and talented LAYLA!” And then the curtains were open. She was being back lit at this point, her lithe form outlined by white, her arm extended toward the ceiling, and she began to sing. “Never know how much I love you… Never know how much I care… But when you put your arms around me, I get a feeling that’s hard to bear: You give me fever… Fever when you touch me, fever when you hold me tight. FEVER…” The spot light flared to life on cue, and her form was revealed to the world. She was wearing a strapless gown that was much like one that was worn in the 50’s, and her bleached blonde hair was styled in rockabilly fashion… “In the morning, fever all through the night.” And she was definitely happy being on stage. She slinked around, letting her arm drift back toward her as she danced some, singing her version of Peggy Lee’s “Fever.” She was doing it in a much more updated style.
“Sun lights up the day time, moon lights up the night… I light up when you call my name, and ya know I’m gonna treat ya right! You give me fever… Fever when you touch me, fever when you hold me tight…. FEVER!! In the morning, fever all through the night…” By this point, she danced with a male, it was a little obvious that this was new to her but she wasn’t bad at it. The crowd loved it, they cheered and whistled, and she smiled seductively as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Everybody’s got the fever, that is something you all know. Fever isn’t such a new thing… Fever started long ago…” And then she’d move away from her partner, crouching down and singing to a random audience member, looking into his eyes and reaching out to tickle playfully at his chin, “Romeo love Juliet. Juliet, she felt the same.. When he put his arms around her, he said “Julie baby… You’re my flame…” She stood up and danced away, not missing a beat, “Thou giveth fever… When we kisseth, fever with thy flaming youth… FEVER! I’m a fire… Fever, yea, I burn, forsooth…” She went on through the rest of the song much the same, and at the end, was sitting on the edge of the stage, legs crossed, lights dimming.
When the audience went wild, she stood and was illuminated by the spot light once more, barely waiting for the crowd to die down before singing an Etta James song, then went on to singing a few songs from more recent. It took about an hour for her set to finish before the next act was to take the stage, and she was able to head to her dressing room and take off those awful shoes.
She shook her head softly and lifted her chin with pride, smiling at Jupiter for the first time since filling him in on all of the things that had happened. “Jupiter, I am tired of running away from everyone and everything scary. I bought this house because it stood for something, I bought it because even though it has bad memories, it also has really wonderful ones.” Xavia stood and moved over to him, cupping at his big face with her little hands.
“I know this seems like…. A lot to ask for… But will you trust me?” She would not blame him if he said no. After all, she had left him a few times, even though they were with the best of intentions. “I don’t want to run anymore.” And then she leaned against him again, resting her cheek on his chest.
Her eyes drifted closed and she snuggled closer, and she said softly, “I have missed you more than you know.”
She didn’t stop crying immediately, but once she did, she felt like she finally had closure. Her head eventually lifted off of his chest, and she gazed up at him. “I missed you too,” she said, pulling away to grab for some Kleenex and clean up her face. She then indicated the couch, inviting him to have a seat, and she would sit in the chair so she could face him. She would tell him the story whether he stood or sat.
“I woke up in a strange place. There was a kind old man who took care of me and nursed me back to health. I didn’t know who I was or where, it was like being born as a whole new person.” Xavia rubbed the scars on the back of her hand, ones she usually covered with concealer when she was working, and sighed a little. “I didn’t know why, but New York is the place that drew me… When I told him, he was happy to pay for my way back to the States. I don’t quite remember if he is the one who chose my name because I needed ID to get home, or if my manager chose it for me. I had a shady manager, and he worked me hard, but I was starting to turn into the woman known as Layla.” She paused, standing up and leaving him for a few moments to get a couple of imported beers. She brought the open bottles back, set one on the mosaic coffee table for him, and then sat back in the chair. It was rare for her to drink anymore, she usually used the beer for cooking, but it was something she thought he might like and she felt like having a drink tonight.
“Once I started gaining popularity, I also started gaining unwanted attention. The thugs started to come out around Christmas time, and that is when I learned that I wasn’t just Layla. I just wanted to know who I was by that point. I started asking around, and things got worse and worse, and I learned that my manager found out about someone looking for me as Xavia and that I looked like her, and that because I didn’t know who I was, I had to be her. The little weasel got what was coming to him when they tried to kidnap me from my hotel suite.”
“It was a few months more before I remembered everything: my life as a child, the things the man who kidnapped me from my home had done to me, coming to New York, you, Romania… Everything. It was all too much, so I took the offer to tour the country. I felt more secure in the public eye.”
Xavia gave a soft shrug when the tired man decided not to take her offer for coming back another time, but she supposed that was alright if he was up to it. So she followed with interest, of course, peering about in open curiosity. “Ah, wonderful,” she said when they made it to the classroom, and then blinked as he brought up the fact that the plant responded to her.
She then looked to the flower he’d noticed, and she smiled a little. “Ah, yes. I suppose I am.” She moved closer to the flower and gently touched the pedals, but wasn’t particularly doing much like showing off because there was no reason to, she was merely touching the bloom as if it was made of spun sugar. She did lean in and smell the fragrant blossom, then straightened her form.
When she turned and looked at him, it was with a genuine and relaxed smile, it always made her happy to be around flora, it reminded her of home. “I didn’t know until I was already an adult, but it makes sense that it happened to me. I am always around plants…” She turned and looked at him again. “I don’t want to keep you by babbling about my gift, how about we move on?” It wasn’t that she was particularly in a hurry, she just didn’t want to cause any problems. Besides, they could talk and walk at the same time, no?
Whether they moved on or not, she decided it was probably a better idea to talk about the gift. She actually pulled out a small note pad and began to jot some things down, taking notes on a few things here and there like the condition of the building itself, it had relevance because she was wanting to use the information to indicate what to use some of the money for from this first donation, as there were to be more made in the future. “What would you as a staff member like to see improved?” she asked, looking up to him, “As I am going to be donating a rather large sum, I wish to be… Eh… specific on what a portion of it is to be used for, you see?”
“As far as I know, he has died. I don’t even know, but he hasn’t made a move to find me.” She let him pull her to him and wept openly now, but made no move to embrace him because she didn’t know what else to do at that point. “I… Don’t want you to go after him if he is… It is done now. If he is stupid enough to come here…” she trailed off and pulled away, a strange glint in her eyes, “I owe him.”
Taking a deep breath, she leaned into him again, and finally hugged the big man. “I am so sorry.” She choked out, the tears falling more heavily. “I couldn’t even… Look for you when I came back. I became a woman named Layla, a singer. And then I looked for clues when I had the money, just to know who I am. I wasn’t expecting to remember everything… The things I didn’t remember from before I met you, and the things I had forgotten in Romania. I remembered the man who sent his lackeys to kidnap me, and everything else. And I was so frightened…”
“I ran away again, but I used my work to do it… And I spent some of my money on private investigators to look for you, but they had said it wasn’t likely that you were alive after almost two years! So I lost hope…” She pulled away and plopped back down on the piano bench, swiping at the tears in an irritated manner. She had managed not to cry anymore for months, but when he showed up, it all flooded out. “My pappa was very sick because he thought I was dead, too.” Now she was really angry as she spoke, “It was so… important… that I went to see my family. Thank God that I was able to show him I still lived, because he may have died suffering because of that son of a…” She trembled and pounded her fist into her palm.
She turned again to look at him, eyes kinda glistening, “I was on a mission… I wasn’t allowed to tell you where I was to go…” She was truthful as she spoke. “But let us talk in the house…” she said, and then reached out as if to take his hand, hers clearly shaking. But because she didn’t know if he would or not, she sighed and dropped her hand. The woman then moved toward the open front door of the house, pausing to make sure if he was following her or not, which he was.
Regardless, she walked to stand by the piano, touching the top of it and waiting for a few moments before she started to speak again. “I know I should have told you I was leaving America, but I was so scared. I know I should have just… Trusted you, but at the time, I was so confused, Jupiter.” Loud swallow, “I left for Romania because I signed up for a mission. I am not sure if I can give you the names of the people whom I was to meet with from the states, but there was a man named Beledodia in Romania whom I was to meet with my partner. You found me in the hotel, and then I wrote that note for you not to follow me because I wanted to do something I shouldn’t have… I wanted to call my parents and let them know I lived… But then those people took me.” She pivoted, wiping at her face and licking her lips, “And then I saw you again in the camp… And you wanted me to run, but I couldn’t. Beledodia had men take me from there.”
This is where she choked up, her head shaking a little. “He… Hurt me. A lot. He did unspeakable things.” She had to sit down then, and did so on the bench, going silent for a moment or two so she could breathe. “I don’t remember how long he had me, but I don’t want to. I forgot everything, even you after some time.” Her eyes closed and she licked her lips again. When she opened those eyes, the unshed tears managed to push one passed, and she said, “I spent a year being another person altogether because that sick…. Bastard,” that last word was spat out with the most genuine venom ever. “Took everything I ever loved and knew away from me.” And then she laughed bitterly.
Heard the SUV and took a deep breath. He was there! It kinda felt like her throat closed around her heart, she stood there frozen in place for a moment. For a few moments, she looked toward the door, wondering what he was thinking. Xavia slowly walked to the stained glass door, flipping the porch light on. He’d be able to see her form through the panes, slightly distorted by the shapes and pictures. She hit the latch, and pulled the door open, taking shallow breaths.
And then she looked toward him, pupils dilating and contracting a little, and she licked at her suddenly dry lips.
She was obviously different, her hair was blonde and straightened, her eyebrows sculpted professionally. But she wasn’t wearing make up, she didn’t need it. The breeze picked up a little, lifting the hem of the dress a little so it fluttered around her legs. And she just… Stood there, staring at him, not knowing what to say.
But then she choked out his name and started to walk toward him, too shaky to run the way she wished she could at this moment. When she stopped walking, she was right there in front of him, tilting her head back. A myriad of emotion crossed over her expression, from pain to love, anger, and astonishment.
Her hand lifted to touch his brow, her own puckering as she swallowed noisily. But she quickly snatched her hand away and turned on heel, marching a few steps away. Over her shoulder, she said, “I gave you up for dead.” By the hitching of her voice, he would probably be able to tell she was trying not to start crying.
The last time she had seen him and touched him was the day they were separated in Romania, before Beledodia had put her through many days of torture and had made her life a living nightmare. She wasn’t ever going to be the same since that day.
She waited nervously, rubbing her palm and pacing. Her bare feet padded over the gleaming floor, and she took a deep breath. Xavia wondered what he was thinking… He was probably going to be mad at her for not being clear in the note, but she wasn’t exactly lying either… She really was this Layla that she had asked him to meet. God, it had been so long since they had seen each other… Was he any different? Was he the same?
The singer sat at the piano again and started to play, trying to relax. But even then, her fingers fumbled. With a curse, she shoved away, darting upstairs to the attic, climbing out on the trellis and onto the roof. She perched on the peak, crouching and folding her hands under her chin and peering out into the road.
It seemed like forever had passed her by, when really, it was increments of 15 minutes when she looked at her watch. Was he even coming? She hadn’t instructed the former body guard to call her back. Damn it for her forgetting!
She swung off the roof and back into the house, quickly heading down the stairs to the foyer again. “Hi, Jupiter… No… Hello there…” This time she was posed in front of the mirror, talking to her reflection… “Hello Mr. Red. Oh god, cheesy!” She raked her fingers through her hair and groaned at herself. “Xavia, silly ass, talking to mirror like crazy girl.” Heavy sigh.
The end of the world was not as epic as she had imagined, but it was close. She’d watched chaos ensue from her perch upon the roof of her house, and then cried a lot as it was hit with the wreckage from another building. Aware of the dangers of the roof collapsing, she grabbed for saddle bags and a few book bags, and shoved whatever she could carry in. Canned food was shoved into the backpack, then the least perishable things from her fridge. As soon as she felt the plaster hit her head, she knew there was no going to the second level; she could smell smoke as well.
She stuffed the saddle bags of her bike hurriedly full of the dirty clothes in the laundry basket that she had at the bottom of the stairs, and then grabbed her first aid kit. When a large piece of plaster hit the floor, she took all that she could carry and tried to get out of dodge before the house started to collapse. Unfortunately, a beam splintered and fell in front of the doorway, smoke filling the room and fire soon to follow. Coughing, she fumbled with her belongings and dropped low; crawling toward the bay window she had loved so much.
She unfolded her form and heaved the book bag through the center window, grabbing the one of the pillows from the window seat to punch as much of the glass out as she could, coughing as the suction pulled some of the smoke toward her. She chucked the saddle bags out next and took the leap, tucking and rolling. After that, she lay on the ground for a moment, sucking air into lungs that burned, wiping at the soot on her face. What she had done was really stupid, but it may save her life later on, she thought. It took her a few minutes to get up, she’d move to the fake rock she had near the house and get the spare keys.
It was some time later, when the world was but one big pile of rubble, she had managed to keep hold of the Harley, but her food supply was dwindling even though she had been rationing her supply to one can a day. Really, it wasn’t much and the way her face was pinched showed it. She was on the verge of trading the bike for food, but then again, her bike was her last hope. Fuel was easy enough to find at first… She would grab whatever gas she could find from abandoned vehicles, and had even managed to procure a gas can. But then they became fewer and farther in between, and now she was pushing the bike to save on precious fuel.
She wandered through the wastelands, sometimes riding when she knew she could spare the fuel, sometimes pushing the bike, stopping to rest with one eye open, eating and drawing moisture from the scarce plant life when she could, until she knew she had to find other survivors. Xavia felt like a fool for the bike, and decided that she would let it go when this last bit of fuel ran out. So she hopped on the vehicle and rode it toward hope… Luck was on her side, because just after the bike started to sputter and pop from both wear, and lack of fuel, she could see the figure up ahead. “HEY!” she said as loudly as she could, which wasn’t that loud because her throat was parched. She revved the bike one last time, it gave a loud, but brief, “VROOM. Sputter, cough.” And then died.
