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.
(Written on a bent piece of drawing paper with a botched attempt at a cat. Probably the work of a kid.)
Second Journal Entry
May 1, 2009
Sometimes I do not know how I made it through all of this hell. One day, I was at home with momma and poppa, the next day they took me away again. I will never be able to forget the way they killed so many people to get to me the first time, how many people must be hurt to find me?
The man who took me, died. A young man with lots of animals came and rescued me, took me to a place with an elderly man they called “Doc-Professor.” He took care of me, and so did a few other people. I could not stay and risk watching them get killed. I left.
I am lucky I found this house.
Now I look for answers, knowing that they won’t hurt those young people at the place I was. But I just want to go home.
All I have is a stupid, fuzzy picture in my head of an old man. Something weird about his eyes that make me think he is not just a dream. There is a cataract on one side, and the other eye is pure yellow like a cat or a snake. They often haunt me.
But who is he? Why did he have my friends killed when I was a kid? Why didn’t he just kidnap me and leave the rest of them alone if he wanted me so bad? I want to know but the search keeps hitting dead ends.
She was shifting back with the help of her new-old friend, while the male was getting restless. Now she felt even worse than she started to. “I am sorry, I don’t know what came over me…” She ignored the piece of paper for now, and said no more than just the simple statement for a long moment. One would think by the way she was laying back so still, that she might have passed out once again. But she didn’t.
Xavia simply listened to the conversation at hand, along with the sound of sirens and the murmur of the crowd that gathered round the trio of mutants. “Maybe if we stare back, they might go away…” she muttered. Crowds were also not her forte. Cracking an eye open, she did just that with a semi bloodshot eye, not curling her lip or showing contempt, just staring for a moment and causing a few in the crowd to take a weary step back.
She turned her gaze to Sara, then, and canted her head slightly, “Well, I guess I owe you the benefit of the doubt, yes?” and to Anthony, “and you as well.”
“Maybe so, but it won’t be for awhile. You understand, right? Please understand…” He would be able to hear the regret in her voice for having to resort to this measure, but she really couldn’t let him follow her. She moved closer to him long enough to give him a soft, loving sort of kiss on the mouth, and then whispered, “Thank you for all that you have done, and I will miss you so.” She touched his face gently, and then pulled away. “This isn’t goodbye… I will see you again, my darling.” Her voice, by that point, sounded a little emotional. After all, he had saved her life, he’d taken care of her when she was sick, he’d been her pillar of strength for days, and she had quickly grown attached to him. She dared not label it as love yet, they hardly knew one another, but how could it not be when the sparks and the passions were so intense between the two of them?
She couldn’t afford any more procrastination time, so she was stuck having to leave her belongings behind. Xavia left him there on the bed, tangled up in vines that were weakening by the moment. The only traces of her presence aside from her belongings, was the smell of lingering flora, mixed with bath soap and shampoo. She left her clothes, pieces of paper with notes written on them that may give him clues as to who she really was and who might be after her, basically journal entries written on stained or crumpled pieces of paper that were tucked away in the pockets and folds of her clothing, so he would pretty much have to search her stuff if he wanted to know badly enough...
The vines started to weaken the further she got away from the Sanctuary, turning brown and dying as her energy wasn’t there to support their life force since they weren’t sprouted out of dirt. Within 15 minutes of her leaving, Jupiter would be free to try and follow her.
Once she was off the grounds of the Sanctuary, she made the trek back into the heart of NYC, where other events took place and lead up to a plane ride to Romania. He would find her, eventually, maybe months later, maybe a year later, but not that day.
Sure, she was inexperienced. Up until last year, she had lived the life of a seventeen year old for eight years. She went from being a popular immigrant student in high school, to being kidnapped from a party where almost the entire Senior Class of her school had been killed in cold blood, to being turned into, so she thought, a freak. Anyone who had lived a sheltered life since being a teenager was bound to be inexperienced. But that was another story, and this is a plane trip to Romania. She didn’t know he thought of her as inexperienced, but had an inkling he may.
When he told her his name, and also stated how her gut feeling was right about his heritage without her saying so, and instead of speaking back to him in English, she spoke in somewhat, but not completely, fluent German. "Sie wollen mich auf meine Fehler hinweisen? Und wie siehts damit bei Ihnen aus? Sie kommen hier einfach an und nennen mich beim Vornamen. Der ist übrigens Saveeah, wie Klavier, nicht Schafia. Wenn wir für die gleiche Firma arbeiten, hätte sie zuerst sichergehen sollen, dass ich bin, wer Sie vermuten. Ich brauche keine Erfahrung zu haben, um zu wissen, dass es Ohren gibt, wo keine sein solllten."(“You want to say mistakes I make? What about you? You come and greet me by first name without knowing me. It is Sah-vee-ah, like klavier, not zay-vee-ah, by the by. If we work for same company, you should have made sure I was who you thought I was. I need no experience to know that there are spies.”)
She gave a sweet smile, then, and returned to English, “Nice to meet you, Martin.” She then held out her hand for a handshake, and the smile on her mouth stayed on her mouth, but did not find any piece of her eyes. She was displeased, of course, that he had chastised her, so naturally, she chastised right back. She may be timid at first, but once someone makes her mad, it was easy for her to get riled up enough to bite back a comment.
Xavia’s scent had also shifted with her changing moods, the air went almost thick with the scent of Damask, and if he looked, fragments of vine still clung to her pores where they had grown from. Indeed, she was not some normal girl, she was Homo Superior. Mutant. Freak. She had once been a mutant hater until she became one. Irony was best served on a silver platter, and she had her fare share.
She assumed he was one as well because he hadn’t flinched when he spotted the greenery in her palm. Normal human beings tended to get scared or mad when they saw a mutation happen in front of them. Well, it was in her experience anyways. Even her parents had done it when she found her way back home.
She shifted back into German to speak some more, "Ich weiß nicht viel über das, was wir hier machen, aber ich weiß, dass es wichtig ist. Ich habe jemandem, der mein Leben gerettet hat, ein Versprechen gegeben. Das will ich einhalten. Sie mögen von mir halten,w as Sie wollen, aber Sie werden sich noch umsehen ohne mich. Ich komme aus Ungarn. Ein Nachbarland von Rumänien."(“Look, I do not know much about what we are doing, but it is important to do it. I made a promise to someone to return favor of her saving my life, and I intend to keep it. You may think what you like of me, but as new as I am to this, you may need me more than you think. I come from Hungary, and it borders our destination.”) And no, she didn’t assume that is what he thought of her, but she outright said she was inexperienced so it was on the table.
Ahh, getting Jupiter on his back was easier than she thought it would be. All she needed was a little bit of sexiness and it went a long way with him. Funny how that works out with two “innocents.” Once he had them on the bed and he was below her, she kissed him a few more times and then sat up, straddling his hips and grazing her fingers along his bare chest.
She gnawed on her lip a little, looking down at him with true desire, even though her intent was to buy herself a head start. Her fingers grazed his lips and she made an appropriate sound in the back of her throat before bending down to kiss him again, once or twice. “Mmm, stay there. I will be right back, my darling.” And she had meant the darling part. She shifted off of him then, and moved to get the shreds of the dress he had torn off of her, and ripped a wide strip into a makeshift blindfold.
When that was done, she came back over to him and showed him the blindfold, licking her lips accordingly, and then if he let her, she would tie it around his head and block his vision of her. Then she would lean down and whisper in his ear how she wanted to put something more comfortable on. How cliché, and how very kinky.
She would then let him sit there for a moment and move around as if pulling off her clothes, and when he least expects, she would then proceed with a bunch of vines quickly coiling around his body to hold him down temporarily. If all this was successful, she would lean down and whisper, “Sorry, Jupiter, but I can’t let you follow me…” She would stay long enough to be sure the vines were going to hold.
Xavia was intent on the ivy in her hands and didn’t hear the “Good day, Mrs.—“ directed at her. The young woman kept silent even as she heard him shuffling papers around and looking through a file. No, she was ignoring everything while humming in the back of her mind so that only she could hear. However, the second time around, she heard her given name, albeit a little mispronounced, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. What the??
Her head turned with a snap, and she stared at him in surprise and apprehension. Who was this guy who knew her name? Her caramel eyes narrowed then in suspicion, and the ivy in her hand withered and turned brown. “I don’t know who you speak of.” Half lie, but she was a wary person, and the expression on her face was common for people who lived on the streets at some point in their lifetime. She eyed “Stone” for a moment of pregnant silence, and all the while, she was shifting her fingers so the dead leaves could fall to the floor of the plane without notice.
After the intent stare at the man’s face, she looked down to the file in his lap, and then back up to his face. She didn’t smile. When she looked away again, she took a deep breath and calmed herself, once again, because he really had scared her half out of her mind for that moment after he said her name. “It’s Miss. Worshalai, ‘Stone.’ Or should I say Fraulein?” She didn’t correct him yet on how he spoke her name, she would wait until they properly introduced themselves to one another. She had a feeling he was using a fake name. He sounded German, and Stone was an English word, at least she thought it was. Nonetheless, she eyed him again with a canted head.
What was she getting herself into? The cat woman, Sara, had explained some about the trip to Romania, basically to do a favor for a favor, so to speak. In this case, Sara had saved her drunken butt from getting hit by a car, then took care of her as she hit her lowest point ever. She had told her about the Kabal, but not much about them. She had been busy running away from brutish thugs, and a man who was never far from her thoughts lately, Jupiter, and many more thoughts, and somehow found it that she needed someone to rescue her from herself. Which is what Sara did… And Anthony… Sort of…
Now she was on a plane on her way to Romania to talk to people about overturning the Registration act, and such other things involved with the trip. Next to a guy who called himself Stone, when really, he should have said something more like Stein. Funny how that suited him and she didn’t actually know that was his last name.
As some of you know, I have been having issues with the network. I am not leaving. but the problems with the network are persisting and my father and I are doing what we can to get it in working order.
This may affect my posting, so all threads I am involved in are affected. I will try and figure out a way to be able to post for you all when I can get online, or when I can get my stinkin network card issues fixed.
The window next to her sort of spooked her when she glanced out and saw the clouds below after the jet had taken off some time ago. Her knuckles had long since turned an ashen white after that moment, as she gripped onto her knees as if for dear life. What had she gotten herself into?
Things back in the States happened so quickly, though, she thought, that she needed this. If putting up with being stuck on a plane behind a stranger who smelled like cheese, next to a snoring old woman who’s dentures were sagging out of her mouth and the smell of Bengay almost overpowering the cheese smell, and in front of an irritating little brat who was kicking her seat, was what it took… By golly, she would put up with it.
Her own, subtle floral scent did little to choke out the offending smells, and the kid wouldn’t stop kicking the seat. This was not going to be fun by a long shot unless a miraculous thing happened. Please, god, or someone, please?
As if answering her prayers, a stewardess happened to pass by, and did a double take at the old woman. “Oh, my, weren’t you in first class?” She then proceeded to try and wake the nicely dressed old lady, and once she succeeded, the old woman was escorted back to heaven.
That meant the old lady had taken someone else’s seat. Heh. How had she missed that? Perhaps it was from staring straight ahead for the duration of the hour or so.
Sighing a breath of the tiny bit of relief she got, she relaxed in her seat for the first time, and ignored the seat kicking and cheese scent that had previously bothered her. She had much more important things to think about. The money she was going to make for pimping herself out to a group called the Kabal, which she knew little about, going to Romania itself, which was bordering her birthplace, and turning her life around. She knew what her job was, but the rest was still slightly blurred.
Things would clear up when she got there, right?
Nobody sat next to her yet, and she took a look around her all slick like, making sure they were all occupied doing one thing or another. When she was sure of it, she began to idly twist her hand around and form a small bit of ivy in her palm and around her fingers, the little leaves and stems sprouting from her pores.
Maybe, JUST maybe, him following her outside could be an advantage. Maybe. She wanted to just shake him, more than anything! Rattle that brain of his around, knock some sense into him. He was so stubborn! But she was stubborn too.
“So it is as simple as putting you on your back, eh?” she said in a biting tone, catching that smile. She had another thought come to mind that might be less drastic than a field full of poppies. It was a spur of the moment thought really, and she despised it, the thought of using her sexuality to get to him. She was not that kind of girl at all, she didn’t lead people on (on purpose), and if she did, she felt bad. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
She also knew it may backfire. If she started kissing him again, there may be no turning back because she wanted him, every part of him. Body, mind, and soul. Gah, where did that come from. Xavia shook the thought from her head and purposefully dropped her eyes to his lips and pretended… or not… maybe… to get a dazed look on her face. She licked her own lips slowly and her voice grew husky, “Let’s not quarrel anymore.” Sighing, as much for affect as it was to release a shaky breath, she lifted her hands and started to run her fingers over his chest.
“No. You are NOT following me.” She placed her hands on her hips and cut a glare at him, then stepped closer to him so she was almost in his face. “Try it and find out. I may not be as big as an ox, like you are, but I can still put you down if I really tried hard enough.” Bigger than her britches, yes? But it was sort of true. If she could produce enough poppies, he would go down like a sack of potatoes. It would probably take a lot, but she was willing to resort to such a drastic and energy draining matter.
She silently thanked the Wicked Witch of the West for the idea. I mean, really now, the green lady had made a whole field of poppies and Dorothy frolicked toward the Emerald City in said field, before dropping to the ground and snoozing. Problem was, the witch had a whole field at her disposal… All Xavia had was a room, and the ability to grow plants out of thin air (and also manipulate plants of course, but that is a mute point).
“This is not important for anyone but myself, and if you think I am just going to sit back and watch you get hurt…” She snapped her mouth shut at the end of that statement, and then amended with, “If you think I am going to let you follow me, then you are daft.” And finally, she raised her voice, “Don’t follow me.”
Ugh. Her head hurt now that she had purged herself of the offending swill in her belly. It did the trick to sobering her up most of the way, though she was still tipsy from the alcohol that reached her blood stream. Oh no, did she make a fool out of herself? She felt a furry paw-hand brush her hair aside, and started. When she turned, she saw the cat woman looking at her with a mixture of concern and… Anger?
“Th-thanks…” she stammered out, and moved to sit up and away from the disgusting smell of her own stomach contents. Her hand went to the back of her head then, and she hissed a pained breath in. “That was the stupidest thing I have ever done.” Her words came out slow, of course, and still slightly slurred, partially from being tipsy and partially from being groggy. Her Hungarian accent seemed a bit thicker than before, but not so thick that it couldn’t be understood.
She was going to lay back down but thought better of it when she realized what the man was talking about. “Nobody is trying to kill me.” Her statement came out flat and unemotional. She patted her pockets down to find the piece of paper missing, then sighed and held her hand out, palm up, toward the two of them. “Please, don’t concern yourself over the piece of paper. It is my problem.” No sooner had she said that then she wobbled a little and lay back down.
“You are not following me, Jupiter.” She grabbed for the cleanest of the clothes that were there before he had someone go shopping, and started pulling them on over her scantily clad form. “You will not have someone follow me, you will not interfere with what is already happening again.” She jerked a sweater over her head and then paused to glare at him. “I will take care of it myself. Do you understand me? It is not up to you.” He would be able to see the fear in her eyes, mixed with her anger, and hear the crack in her voice as she spoke so firmly, but not loudly to him.
As she was pulling on an old looking pair of jeans, she was in a hurry and started to hop around a little on one foot. “I am going to leave, and where I go, nobody needs to know. This is my problem.” Yeah, what she said. Xavia glowered as she looked around for some clean socks, then sat on the bed and started working them onto her dainty feet. “If you think you are going to do otherwise, you have another thing coming.”
Firm nod.
She was afraid for him, and anyone else. There were no answers yet to the questions in her head about the kidnapper, nor the vague professor from her dreams. She didn’t remember who they were, where they came from, or why they picked her. She just knew they were dangerous, and so was Jupiter for an entirely different reasoning. He was dangerous because she was already half in love with the man, and wanted him so badly. He gummed up the works, so to speak, the cogs that turned in her brain. It was hard to think when he kissed her, and harder still when she was the one kissing him.
Her lips pressed together and she jerked on an old pair of sneakers, intending on leaving with just the clothes on her back…. Again… Her eyes rested on his face before looking away, perhaps out of guilt, perhaps something else.
Recovering from the flash bomb was simple enough for her because she hadn’t looked at the explosion. With a little bit of ringing in her ears, she was still able to see, and didn’t waste time attempting to haul the boy up by his armpits. If she succeeded, she would guide him through the woods while somewhere off to the side was another, more ground shaking explosion. She felt the sting of debris, but was luckily out of range enough not to be harmed too seriously, or if she had been, the adrenaline pushed her passed the point of caring.
Hopefully it didn’t take too long for the kid to get his sight back; they didn’t have time to stumble around. If not, she would push him out of danger and then turn around to confront the demon spawn that was trying to kill two innocent human beings who just so happened to have the X-gene. She knew if she got close enough, he wouldn’t be able to throw his little boom toys at her, because he would put himself in danger just by doing so.
She knew also that she couldn’t do much offensively, mostly because she had little control over her powers yet, even if she was starting to learn how to on her own by necessity. Xavia decided now would be a good time to do it, as it would at least buy the kid some time to finish recovering. She darted behind the trees, peeking out every so often to see if the dude was distracted or not. The mutant moved quickly and as quietly as possible only when she knew he was not looking.
When she was, perhaps, 15 feet from him, she flattened herself against the ground and used the cover of her mutation to meld her into the surroundings. There, she would bide her time, looking much like a grassy knoll, and wait the man out. If he chose to come any closer, she would strike.
“This.” she said, then grabbed him and pulled him back down to her when he pulled away, her fingers burrowing into his hair before she impatiently began to try and undress him. “You… Us… We can’t… but… agh…” She jerked at his shirt, and if successful in tearing the thing open in her anger, her hands found the warmth of his chest. “We need to… stop…” she said then in protest at her own actions. “Now… I… Damn it, Jupiter.” She kissed and touched him some more.
Just when one would have expected a fade scene, though, she jerked herself back to reality (again.) and gulped in a great gush of air. “I have to go.” She said this more to herself than to him, and started to mumble, “I can’t do this. Not like this.” She mumbled some more things as she shakily grabbed for some personal items, the topic wavering from wondering where he put everything to the guy who drugged her.
But I do want you! She actually did speak the thought out loud without realizing she did so, and it was loud enough to be heard through the door. Hell, anyone walking in the hallway probably could have heard it. Her hand came up to rub at her face and she still sat there on the tiled floor of the bathroom, pretty much face palming. If he wasn’t furious with her before, who knows how he felt about her having lied to him about the way she felt.
Xavia unconsciously stood up and began to pace. He could just walk right in if he wanted to, the door was unlocked. There were no noises indicating she was actually using the restroom for the reason she said she would be, no flushing toilet, no click of the seat against the porcelain bowl, no detailed audio whatsoever. Such a terrible little liar she was turning out to be.
He was talking to her through the door, talking about any obligations he thought that she thought she had in staying. Now she was confused. He had fought so hard to get her there, and, sure, he had said something the day they had met, that he promised he would let her go wherever she wanted if she went with him. Then came the time where she didn’t exactly have a choice. It kind of bothered her that he was willing to let her go so quickly. Did he not want her back? Bah, no, take the chance he gave you, Xavia, and slip out while you have some dignity left.
In the end, she opened the bathroom door and stood against the frame of the portal, looking at him somewhat bemused for that moment. Sighing, she didn’t say anything as she called his bluff, or so she thought it was one such thing. “Fine,” she finally said with a twinge of depression in her voice, “You want me gone so fast, I will go.” But she made no move to leave. No, she did the opposite of what she said, and moved over to him, grabbed his arm and tugged at him. If successful in her attempt to tug at him, she would land a solid kiss, more fiery than ever, and kiss him silly. When she pulled away from that she muttered, “Or is that what you want? Huh?”
Suddenly angry, she stalked a few feet away, arms akimbo, her back to him. “What do you want from me? Answers? What?”
He still had yet to bring up the ugly scarred man.
)