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.
The invisible illusionist froze for just a moment.
How?
That didn't matter. What mattered was getting away as fast as possible or getting to something she could use for defense.
Katrina chose to maintain her illusion of invisibility for now, because even if the vampire could somehow see a part of her with some other sense that she hadn't known about – some crazy blood-o-vision or something weird like that, it would still be more difficult for him to follow her if she was mostly invisible.
She took a moment to make sure she was also imperceptible to his more normal senses. The beating of her heart or the smell of her sweat weren't going to give her away. Nor would her shadow. If she left any footprints in the dust of the ground, they wouldn't be visible to normal vision until they were no longer in her range, which was quite a bit longer than the last time this particular villain had chased her.
It only took a moment to adjust her illusions and calculate her escape route. Then, she took off running. Down the alley, then to the left. She dodged behind a dumpster, then took another left. She took a roundabout way that she hoped would look panicked, if he truly could see her, but would ultimately lead her to somewhere she knew she could find what she needed most: wood.
Was that a smile on Calley's face, or was the just a reaction to the minty tentacles in his stomach?
Katrina voted for smile.
“Are you ready for part two?”
Katrina was bound and determined to make this the best date ever, even if she and Calley weren't dating and never would. Because Kat would be with Slate forever, she was pretty sure. And Calley would admit that he liked Cafas eventually. And they'd all live happily ever after.
Still, she wanted to make it great because Calley was her good friend and she wanted to cheer him up.
The little illusionist wrapped her teal scarf around her neck and did up the buttons on her coat.
“Come on, we've got a plane to catch!”
“And here we have Lonesome George.”
The last Galapagos tortoise in the world.
Katrina grinned at their tour guide, then at Calley. She was rocking back and forth on her feet, practically bouncing with anticipation. This was the part she was waiting for: the chance for Calley to copy the rarest animal on the planet. This way, even if the tortoise died without the researchers ever successfully cloning or breeding him, there would still be a little bit of him left.
“Hi there George,” Katrina quietly greeted him with a wave.
“You have to touch him, right?” The researcher asked the cat-eared boy. “We just ask that you wash your hands before petting him to decrease the risk of exposure to foreign germs. There is a hand washing station right over there. Then you can go in and have a visit.”
So... I was going to go looking for videos of Katrina (AnnaSophia Robb) and Sebby (Sephiroth) that would actually work for this. I haven't found any yet. This could take awhile. But I did find a really great Sephiroth parody. <3
Katrina made it into the alley just in time. She didn't even have time to brush the dirt and dust off that she had acquired during her roll around under the car. Oh well, it wasn't like anyone was going to see her.
Behind her papers swarmed into a red paper tornado in the loose shape of a dog. The loose sheets flew through the air, indiscriminate of where their sharp edges were flying. The vampire taunted the papers as he staked them to the ground, or rather tried to stake them to the ground. All the while, he taunted Maxine's virtue.
The illusionist lost sight of everyone in the red storm of papers that was the dog going for the vampire's throat.
She hoped that Jorge, Abyss, and Aedus didn't get hurt. They were good people, even if they stood on the opposite side of the battle field.
As for the vampire who had tried to eat her when she was a child, who had dyed his hair and colored his eyes, but still wore the same hungry, creepily evil expression on his face, she hoped that he was just as weak to wood after it had been turned to pulp and flattened into sheets as he was when it was in it's original form.
Not wanting to waste any more time, she turned away from the fight and walked down the alley, turning at the end and following the route that would lead her to the center of the town.
Zephyr's dad was bossy. Kind of like Zephyr, actually, but more so.
Still, Katrina did feel a little guilty that the aeromancer had sounded so worried, especially now that he wasn't being a thickheaded jerk.
She was just about to close her eyes and send Zephyr another message when Mr. Smith reached out in his impatience and flicked her in the forehead.
The little illusionist's grey eyes clouded with anger as she slowly turned back to glare at him. Though he had all kinds of money, probably owned all the coffee shops in England, and was was Zephyr and Ghost's dad, he didn't have any power over her and she wasn't about to let him bully her around.
“Don't do that again.” Her words dripped with ice. If it sounded like a threat, that was all the better. Just because someone was older and taller didn't mean that they were better or stronger.
Katrina turned her shoulder toward the old man and closed her eyes, once again thinking of Zephyr. This time in her mind, his face looked worried.
I'm in the living room. I'm okay. You don't have to tear the whole mansion to pieces.
Katrina laughed at the mention of the Mona Lisa, a true laugh from the very bottom of her stomach.
“Naw, who would buy it? To most people a hill of beans would be worth more than an old painting these days. You can eat beans.” Katrina narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion, teasing her right back, “Why, do you want it? Because if you were offering a hill of beans I might be persuaded to go looking for it.”
She peeked over Celeste's shoulder as she went through her list. She had two of the items Katrina needed, but she was out of luck on the boots. She thought as much.
“Well, if you ever do get a pair in, let me know.”
The illusionist sighed as the other girl put her old paper notebook away, then looked with interest as the other girl pulled out a notebook of the electronic variety. Her eyes widened. She had heard that Celeste had a computer that still was running, but she hadn't known it for sure until now.
She didn't even realize she was holding her breath until the little screen on the mp3 player lit up.
“Haha!” Her exhalation came out as an exclamation instead. It was so good to see something that worked, for once. She watched the other girl go through her music for a few minutes; she had good taste.
“Hey, I forgot to mention. I'm turning 21 in a couple of weeks. I was planning on having a party at Zephyr's. I was thinking since this is a nice neutral ground, and I wanted to invite a couple of the townsfolk and all, we could maybe have it around here. Then you could come, too, since we know there isn't radiation in this area.”
Katrina leaned on the counter and gave Celeste the best kitten eyed look that she had, certain that the other girl would recognize it for exactly that, since she had such a good one of her own. But surely if they were going to be friends, the other girl couldn't turn down an invitation to her birthday party.
Katrina tried to steer clear of people on Saturdays. She figured if she just stayed in her room all day she could deal with the aftermath of her dreams on her own and the rest of the Amazons wouldn't think she had completely cracked.
Unfortunately, she still had to eat.
Pajamas askew and hair in tangles, Katrina half stumbled, half fell out of her room. The door frame had tripped her. The wolfhound that only she could see whined and nosed at her to see if she was alright.
“I'm okay, I'm fine,” the illusionist told the dog. She then gave the door frame a suggestion for keeping itself busy until she got back; it wasn't a very polite suggestion. The door frame grinned wider as if to say, But it wouldn't be as much without you.
It was just a few steps to the kitchen, where the ink manipulator and the queen sat at the kitchen table. A muscular red man with a monkey tail lounged in a chair next to them, completely disregarding the rule that boys were not allowed in the house. Maxine and Allison ignored him as if he wasn't there at all. He ignored them, too, carefully flipping through the pages of his giant tome one at a time.
Hanging from the ceiling, a paperclip octopus tortured a baby deer to death.
Katrina smiled to those whom she was fairly certain were real, namely the two Amazon women, and ignored the rest. The greyhound, being a figment of her imagination didn't care about such distinctions. He gave a liberal sniffing in the direction of the dying deer and the paperclip beast that was toying with it, then trotted over to beg for scratches from the overly large red mutant man.
The big guy closed his book, which she could now see was titled Dreams, and pouted at Katrina when she didn't give him a smile, too, “What, no hello for your old friend Morpheus?”
“Hello,” she greeted the room in general, then opened the cupboard to see what was inside.
There was a whole box of pop tarts. That. Was too good to be true. The illusionist pushed the box aside and grabbed for something more realistic for their kitchen.
Breakfast in hand, she waved her goodbyes and made her way back to her bedroom for a day of avoiding people while she waited for all the hallucinations to fade.
“Sweet dreams,” Morpheus called after from the kitchen.
Katrina loved Friday nights. She kissed all the Amazons good night and practically skipped off to bed, humming to herself. Tonight she had old show tunes stuck in her head. That's what she got for hanging out in the bunker and listening to too many of Celeste's songs on her new mp3 player: sappy old show tunes.
She usually made her excuses as soon as it was dark enough. She put on the most comfortable thing she owned, which was a threadbare old t-shirt, and crawled in between the sheets.
Alone in her room, watching the last of the pink and purple light fading from the sky through her little window, Katrina sighed in contentment. No matter how miserable a week could get in this desolate broken world, there was always a Friday night at the end of it.
Friday night.
Sleep.
And dreams.
----------
The world of dreams was a broken place where dreamers from the past had left all sorts of broken bits and pieces behind. Pathways abruptly ended or doubled back to where they began. Stairways led to nowhere. Impossibly small openings led to new and exciting places while large doorways led to nowhere. Some spots were only accessible if you had the correct key that allowed you to fall up a deep hole. Still others required that person fly to get there. Music played somewhere, but it was too soft to hear clearly.
In a way, navigating the dream world was much like navigating an apocalypse-broken and ravaged city.
But the dream world was supposed to be like that. It was natural for it to be a mixture of horrifying and fantastic, macabre and beautiful, grotesque and peaceful. No one asked the dreamworld how it got to be the way it was. It was impossible, horrible, and wonderful all at the same time. No one blamed anyone else for making it like this. It just was.
She navigated this landscape as easily as she navigated the streets of New New York. Though the roads were not straight and the pathways were unpredictably changeable, she never got lost.
Especially not when she had a guide.
The Irish Wolfhound had a thin gold chain around it's neck. Thinner than a collar, more like a necklace. His tail waved ahead of her like a flag and every once in awhile he turned back to see if she was still there.
They turned a corner and suddenly they were in the midst of the apocalypse all over again. The air was thick with dust that clogged the lungs.
She coughed and shuddered. It was only a dream, but the memories within it were so real and the emotions of terror and loneliness were clinging to her worse than the dust.
The wolfhound wfffled at her, urging her onward. Just a little farther. Just a little more.
The music grew louder.
Around the next corner the sky cleared and they could breathe easier. Instead of grey dust, white snow was beginning to fall.
Hold my hand and we're halfway there. Hold my hand and I'll take you there.
Katrina woke up Saturday morning with sheets trying to strangle her. It took a few minutes of struggling for her to escape the threadbare linen demons the clung to her hair and hands and got themselves tangled up between her legs. The illusionist called them something that wasn't very polite, but since they were only a figment of her imagination anyway, she didn't think anyone would mind her language.
Finally upright she took a cursory glance around the room to see what other phantoms would be haunting her today. Skeletal faces grinned knowingly at her from between the rib-like rafters. Shadowfolk with tiny eyes that blinked open and shut all over their amorphous bodies made crude gestures from any spot where the bright sunlight couldn't directly touch them. Her rug opened it's giant mouth and licked it's lips; from her angle Katrina could see all the way down it's throat into the pits of hell where demons slaved away to build what she could only assume was a device designed to torture for all eternity any souls that were unlucky enough or immoral enough to earn themselves a one way ticket down to the pit.
A big grey Irish Wolfhound lounged on her bed, oblivious to the linen monster's designs to pin him down. The sight of him made Katrina smile and she reached out a hand to scratch his chin. Her fingertips went through the phantom dog, but as she wriggled them she could feel his fur, as real as anything else in her room. The dog sighed contentedly.
Saturday mornings were strange, but Friday nights were so worth it.
Katrina tried to read Celeste's face throughout the little show and tell. Truthfully, she would give all these items to Celeste for free, in exchange for keeping Slate safe. If she had that option. As it was, she did have a few small things that she needed for herself.
Celeste had a pretty good poker face, but not a perfect one. Katrina caught the sly little smile at the fancy shampoo. Then, when she got to the little mp3 player, there was no longer any need for guessing what the other girl thought. Suddenly the illusionist was swept up into a hug.
Finally, she had managed to break into the other girl's tough shell. Maybe, this could be the start of a real friendship and not just a business relationship wherein Katrina always felt like she was always in the younger girl's debt.
Katrina reached around the other girl and squeezed, letting some of her worry and stress go. Celeste wasn't her enemy, just another girl, like her, trying to get by in a difficult world.
“You're welcome,” the illusionist whispered before letting go. And before it got awkward. They weren't that good of friends.
“Look, I don't need much for the stuff. I am looking for a few things, though. If you ever get them in, could save them for me? I need a crowbar, a rope, and a grappling hook. I could use a pair of hiking boots, too, if you ever get any in.” That last one was a long shot. Good boots were a very hot commodity in the post-apocalypse. Something like that had a lot of value and tended to get snatched up quickly.
Katrina leaned on the counter, taking her weight off of her feet; it had been a long hike to get here.
She was rewarded for her friendliness with a slight smile from the younger girl, but it quickly slipped away, back into the frown that was much more Celeste's usual expression when Katrina was around.
Right, back to business.
About a week back Katrina had been poking around in the ruins of a half charred building. Her guess was that the building next to it had burned, since it was no longer there, and this one had taken collateral damage. Several of the apartments had already been picked clean, but a few had higher security and therefore heavier doors. She'd managed to dig out a master key from under the ruins of the main desk, though afterward she'd looked like she'd picked a fight with a charcoal beast.
The bottom of the stairway had been ruined by the fire, so she'd had to take a circuitous route up the fire escape at first, then in through a broken window, then back to the main staircase again. It had been work, but well worth it. She'd managed to find the apartment of someone who had liked the finer things in life.
Not that most of them were useful now: a bathtub with claw feet, for example. A television almost big enough to be the screen in a movie theatre. A leopard skin rug. Actually, it might be worth the trip just to pick up that, though it would be heavy as hell and very awkward on the fire escape. Maybe she'd take Maxine's pet Koga on a walk to go get it later.
Katrina led the way back back to what served as Celeste's front counter to lay out what she had collected from the apartment.
There were blankets and sheets, rolled up as tight as she could fit them into her backpack. She'd had to leave behind two down pillows, but she could return at a later date to pick them up.
There were about a dozen AA batteries she'd dug out of remote controls and wireless keyboards. Who needed four televisions anyway?
Next came toilet paper, toothpaste, and what seemed to be a new toothbrush.
She fished out the Ren's Moroccan Rose scented shampoo and body wash next. Someone had had good taste.
This was followed by a small mirror, two flashlights, a fancy engraved pen, a box of matches, and several cigars: just because she didn't like them didn't mean someone wouldn't give Celeste something nice for them. She'd shoved them in her bag at the last second.
She was scraping the bottom of her backpack now. She pulled out a razor and shaving cream. Those might end up in Slate's hands. At least, Katrina hoped they might; he was getting kind of scruffy.
Carefully, she placed a bottle of scotch on the counter. It was the good stuff. Not that she knew anything about that, being still a little shy of her technically 21st birthday.
Finally, she reached the bottom. Her grand finale!
“I figured if anyone could use this, it would be you.”
With tentative hands she pulled out an old mp3 player. It had still been attached to the wall with its charger, despite the building not having electricity for the past three years, so she'd brought that, too. She had no idea what music was stored on it, but Celeste had power and could charge it up again if she so chose. The illusionist held it out with tentative hands as a peace offering.
“Oh, and I almost forgot.” Katrina unclipped a thermos from the carabiner on her belt. “Breakfast.” It wasn't the best tasting, but at least it had some real vegetables in it.
Katrina left the Amazons at the farm, grateful to Maxine each and every time she reminded her followers that killing meal tickets was costly as hell. Even if it wasn't for the same reasons that Katrina herself avoided killing, it still helped having someone the girls would listen to remind them not to murder if it could be helped at each and every raid.
Invisible, the little illusionist slipped off the back of the turquoise paper dog and left him with his mistress to help clear out the farm. Carefully, she picked her way toward the town, staying to the sides of the street as best she could. It was shady there and she was less likely to get a sunburn; even if she was invisible and consciously erasing her own shadow, the sunlight still found her and tried to toast her alive. Stupid pale skin.
Halfway there, she saw a strange sight. A gargoyle flying overhead, a young man in tattered skivvies surfing a wave of sand, a riding police officer galloping toward them, seven red men with monkey tails, a bald guy, and a dog... drawing a big letter 'a' in the sand. She could guess what that stood for fairly easily. She knew all of them except the bald man and the dog; and knew that they were some of the worst the town had to offer. The cavalry was coming and if they figured out what the writing in the sand meant, they knew who they were about to tangle with.
She caught a glimpse of one more figure, right behind the almost naked Aedus. Katrina shuddered. Even after something like nine years, the black haired, green eyed vampire still scared her silly.
The illusionist ducked behind the shell of an abandoned yellow Beetle. It had a young sapling growing out the middle of it's skylight, so it wasn't going anywhere soon. She cursed the fact that she couldn't make people hear and un-hear at the same time. She had to drop her invisibility briefly to send her message. Under the car loose pages of blood-red paper quivered, expectantly. It was a trap, but not for her. Katrina closed her eyes and pictured the Queen of the Amazons in her mind's eye. She imagined her own voice, whispering in Maxine's ear.
Company is coming. She named all the fighters she had seen. Practically a family reunion. We've got the Abyss brothers, the Gargoyle, Fire, Water, and little Toto, too. Tell the ladies to grab stakes, if the farmers are using them for tomatoes or anything; they have Edward Cullen with them. And some bald guy. I don't know him.
She couldn't hear Maxine's reply, of course. Her illusion messages only went one way. She hoped Her Majesty would take her advice about the stakes seriously.
Her message complete, she rolled back out from under the car, once more under the cover of her invisibility illusion. The oncoming army was almost on top of her. And the red paper that lay in wait.
The illusionist slipped down an alley so she wouldn't get caught in the crossfire and continued on her merry way toward the town. There was about to be a ruckus out at the farm, and it would provide a very, very good distraction for most of the town's protectors.
So, its 4th of July weekend. I'll be up at the cabin today until the 3rd. Then I'll be at the convention the 5th through the eighth. Strangely enough, the day I'm most likely to be around is the 4th itself.
Sorry I didn't have a chance to catch up on posts before I left.
