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.
>>>"I'm still working on a name. 'Angry' comes to mind. Maybe 'Souvenir.'"
Katrina contemplated the lobster. "If you call him angry, people will want to call him 'Crabby' instead. He might take offense to that, since he isn't a crab. 'Souvenir' is going to make people ask what he is a souvenir of. That would be an alright name if you don't mind people asking," Katrina looked up to meet Calley's gaze with one eyebrow raised; implied curiosity.
"Remember that book Slate gave me on stars? There was something in it about a constellation that was a crab... or a lobster. Maybe the name of one of the stars would be a good name for him." Katrina frowned and closed her eyes as she tried to remember what the book had said. "I can't remember them. There was one star whose name meant 'claws'. I'd have to look it up, though." Too bad she hadn't brought the book... but then, who would have thought she'd ever need it?
Calley, on the other hand, had thought to bring his stash from the library. Whether or not the library knew he had them, Katrina wasn't going to ask. Her eyes widened in appreciation upon seeing the covers, "Nice."
>>>"Having observed that the Mansion's curriculum is lacking in certain vital preparatory courses, as demonstrated at Christmas," ... "I have procured us proper nightmare fodder."
This was why she had so enjoyed the year of studying just with Calley and Slate. They learned things she was actually interested in knowing, and would actually use. Probably.
Then he handed her the annotated drawings. She scanned them quickly, a smile broadening across her face as Calley's idea started to take form in her mind.
"This is great! I could make you halfway invisible, too, like a ghost horse... and I think I can make an illusion candle if a real one doesn't work out. Would Ghosty be able to make herself headless or would I have to make that part invisible? Oh, and I can do the fog thing again. That's always a cool special effect."
"Too bad Halloween is so far away," Katrina sighed and handed back the paper in order to grab a book about Japanese myths off of the stack. Chapter one was called 'Kitsune'.
"Hey, this has to be where they got the idea for the nine tailed fox pokémon," she pointed to a picture. "It would be funny if we could convince someone they had fallen into a pokémon game for a day. See?" She pointed to the lobster in the tank and as she gestured, two red mushrooms with yellow spots appeared on its back.
Good luck Abyss! I hope your muse returns quickly. If you need help tracking him (her?) down, let me know. I am a well trained muse hunter. See? I brought back Juli's once. Could I get a physical description of your muse to start compiling sketches for the search parties?
He didn't hug her or belittle her or make her feel sorry for herself all over again or ask for more details or try and give her a pep talk. Just a simple, >>> ”I’m sorry, you had to go through that…”
It was almost like he had gone through something similar, considering where he'd just been and the scars he'd come back with it probably was a fair guess, and he knew to avoid all the meaningless fluff that people could spout after they learned about something like that. At this point in time, it was what she needed; someone who understood and didn't press too much.
“It's over,” she responded to his question. “I just want to go on with my life now,” and as she said it, she realized it was true. She hadn't forgiven, not really, nor had she forgotten, but she was ready to just move onward. Onward to defense training and pilot lessons and not worrying about getting kidnapped at any time.
Thus, began the training.
>>>”How do you breath, Katrina?”
Katrina looked at him incredulously. Really? This was self defense training?
“With my lungs?” she hazarded, only partly sarcastic. “I don't really need practice breathing, though. I've played oboe for several years and breath support is a big part of that, so...yeah.” Really, they could skip the breathing practice and she'd be fine.
Calley's nose was very colorful beneath it's bandages. Katrina's first thought was that Calley had dressed up as a clown to greet her as some sort of April Fool's Day joke. Upon further inspection, though, it was obvious that it was no laughing matter. It obviously hurt... it had to, with that color, but Calley still seemed cheerful enough as he offered to take her bag and led the way down to his room.
“Sure,” she replied to his question, then added, “Your nose looks very impressive, by the way. But probably you should have DocProf look at it, or Slate. Or... doesn't the Sanctuary have a healer?” Katrina tilted her head in thought, “Though, I suppose if you want it to be crooked to look different you could let it heal the normal way.”
Katrina waved back to the lobster in the tank as she entered the room. It didn't surprise her at all that Calley, being an animal shifter, would have odd pets like lobsters. That could even be another part of Calley right now.
The blonde teen pointed, “Does he have a name or is he another 'Calley'?”
The little illusionist considered her options for a moment. “Food and movie later, possibly overlapping, because they go well together. Cerberotaur... I wouldn't want to give any of the Order members nightmares or anything. So that leaves plotting.” Katrina had warmed up nicely for such an activity by plotting nearly all day long for her homework assignment for Slate.
“Did you have something particular in mind?” The last time he had, an epic adventure had been born, complete with three headed monsters and knights on noble aughiskies.
Katrina had been working on a homework assignment during school. It was not the usual type of homework assignment. Nor was it the type her teachers would necessarily want her to be doing, at least not while she was supposed to be focusing on her mathematics.
“Katrina?”
The little illusionist was jerked out of her cloud contemplating reverie by the appellation of her name. On the board, three lines were drawn, two horizontal, the other a diagonal one that cut across them.
“The transversal?” she hazarded.
The teacher looked a bit surprised, but still added a reprimand, “You should really pay closer attention.”
The blonde teen couldn't help it if she had more interesting things to think about in the last class of the day on a Friday, like city-wide peace and sleepovers with best friends.
Her bags were all packed. Her mother had given her legitimate, though reluctant, permission this time. She'd also given Calley a stern look to rival all stern looks when they had asked. Katrina assumed this had been some sort of warning to bring her back in one piece-or else. But really, it was unnecessary: she'd be perfectly safe at the Sanctuary.
All she needed was for the bell to ring, releasing her from... brrrrrring!
There was a mad scramble for belongings and a stampede for the door. Katrina was not the only one with somewhere else to be. -- Thirty minutes later Katrina (and her duffel bag) were at the golden doors of the Sanctuary.
>>>"Ah. Well." ... “Popular political support...blah blah...legislative changes...blah...tolerant educational...blah blah... kills its own citizens.”
Katrina stared. Slate watched her shoulder. Katrina stared some more. Slate brushed a hair off her shoulder. Eyes that had been glazed over snapped back to attention at the movement. She was paying attention to all his words! Really! Even if he was sounding an awful lot like a stuffy old politician. If he had been trying to get her off of that particular subject, his tactics had worked far too well and she was glad for a change of subject.
“I do have a cell phone!” Katrina reached into her pocket to dig it out. It was a shiny red one, previously owned by Mars. The Abyss brother had given it to her so she could always call them if she needed to. It had come complete with a list of contacts, most of whom she didn't know, but she hadn't bothered to delete any of them, opting instead to add her own contacts to the already long list.
“I have email, too. Updates would be nice,” she admitted. “I tried to follow what was happening on the news, on blogs, and on Twitter, but hearing things from you would be better. Or Ms. Mortman. She's cool.” Also, she'd be a good backup in case of forgetting to leave messages, which seemed to be something both Caleb copies seemed to have a habit of doing.
>>>"I believe I have given you a homework assignment. Perhaps we can discuss this further, when I help you with your mathematics. How does tomorrow afternoon, after your classes end sound?"
More time to think before having to discuss her answers would be good... except, “I already promised Calley a sleep over tomorrow after school. Can you wait until Saturday afternoon?”
Cerberotaur's head arced backwards with a roar as something small bit into it from the inside. Small things were not supposed to bite big things. It did not put the small thing near its mouth again. Rather, he held it far far away from itself.
A ghostly sound cut through the fog. Clang. Somewhere a church bell was slowly ringing. Clang.
Katrina looked up at Calley. Clang. It was midnight. Clang. She hoped her rescuers were ready for this. Clang.
The three headed dog monster dropped the little blonde illusionist (or rather she jumped down from the branch). Clang. In an instant, the beast leaped forward toward the knightess. Clang. Tail blades slammed the ground in front of and behind her, cutting her off from the little damsel. Clang. Three heads with three sets of fangs descended. Clang.
She would not have thought that bribes would be that helpful and death threats would just add to the hatred of mutants. Yet, Slate seemed so optimistic about it, that it had worked. That it would continue to work.
“How do you know they won't change their minds back once you stop paying or threatening? It doesn't sound very permanent.”
>>>"Please do not apologize," he said quietly. "You did nothing wrong, and nothing wrong came of it. You were only being who you are. Please, do not apologize. I was just... very concerned, when I learned you had come."
That concern was more of a deterrent than any scolding could ever have been. It was a sad kind of pain that made her want to never inflict it on him again. Her instinct was to say she was sorry again for making him worry, but he had just said not to apologize, so she couldn't.
“I was worried about you, too,” she admitted. “All winter long. I had no idea if you were alive or ...” she trailed off. She didn't want to make him feel guilty, too, though that was probably what she had just done. “I mean, any time a friend goes away I worry about whether they are safe or not.”
Talk of goals and helping was better than feeling sorry for oneself, so Katrina turned her thoughts towards Slate's questions. The way he phrased it reminded her of the way he used to help her with math logic games.
“I suppose world peace is too big of a goal,” she mused out loud as her mind whirled the globe into smaller more manageable pieces. Peace for one continent? Peace for one country? A state? A city? Even that seemed big, especially considering the city in particular that she lived in. But maybe it was possible... maybe.
As for his questions, what means did she have? “Means could be powers, or people, right?” Happenings... most of the big things that happened in this city involved the Order and the X-men or the Order and the police, at least the ones that she heard about. She might have to do more research on what else was going on before she started trying to change things. And more thinking. Slate was good at giving her a lot to think about.
At the mention of Fausto and Koga falling prey to her "rallying power" Katrina blushed and glared at the same time. How the heck did he know that? Was he spying on her or something? It wasn't like she ran around holding hands with either of them. If she had to guess, she would blame it either on video cameras or a telepathic rumor-mongering student. In either instance, it was a good reminder to be on guard.
Luckily, Sam quickly changed the subject so she didn't have to either confirm or deny his suspicions. Either would have sounded incriminating whether or not it was truth.
She shuddered when he mentioned the knife that damaged his eye, not because it was scary or anything, but because she had been a hairs breadth away from the same fate. So, it seemed it was time to tell Sam the reason that she was here.
"I never thought it was a game. I worry about you guys every time you go away on a mission. And I worry about the others, too," in the Order and the third group no one ever talked about. When she had friends on both sides, fights were always bad.
"Cool, yeah," at least it would be if it wasn't such a creepy reminder of her own misadventure.
"I made a mistake, too," she admitted. "It was when Calley was missing and no one was looking for him. No one seemed to care except for me, so I went to go look. I was kidnapped and tortured. Tied up, stripped, burned, cut. Slate saved me."
She raised her eyebrow at Sam to see how he would react. It had actually been easier to spit that out than she had expected.
"That's why I am supposed to take self defense, so if something like that happens again..." she could get him before he got her. Violence to prevent violence. That's why she didn't want to do it, it seemed wrong to hurt other people so she wasn't hurt. Not that she wanted to get hurt again, she'd just prefer to turn invisible and run. And actually have it work.
Madam Knight retreated boldly, with the grace of a puppy. Calley reached his nose down to touch the shield. Katrina was thinking the same thing. One mystical bow and arrow set coming right up! The lady too aim, fired, and winced as the string snapped against her arm. Oops, a little too realistic.
The arrow arched up and up, towards the great beast's chest, where it imbedded itself in the thick flesh.
Cerberotaur was not amused. That hurt. All three heads roared their outrage. Little lady knights were not supposed to be able to hurt big strong three headed monster dogs. More foot stamping and tail thrashing ensued, but Cerberotaur did not charge forward. He would remember that this foe could sting if she pleased.
Katrina thrashed her legs and whimpered convincingly. She secretly wondered how long she was supposed to keep this up. It was nearly midnight, and Calley hadn't yet given the signal.
It was definitely music she was hearing. Her hearing was coming back a little. At least she thought it was. The changes in her perceptions were so gradual they were almost imperceptible. The lyrics were still fuzzy and it was hard to tell if she could hear better now or if the music was just really loud.
>>>"Can. You. Hear. Me?"
Katrina tilted her head the other way, then slowly nodded. That sounded like Shin. He was probably worried. Could they hear her, too?
In front of her, the blackness flickered a little bit. It was just a slight bit brighter than before, blinking between lighter and darker blacks..
“I think it's getting better,” even her own voice was still sounding really muffled. “It just needs time.”
At least, she hoped so. She said it to reassure the others and herself. Though, hopefully it worked better at reassuring them than it did her. She couldn't help but think that it would really suck to be stuck like this forever.
Lost inside you'll never find; lost within my own mind. Day after day this misery must go on.
>>>"I doubt it. That would require him to give a shit."
Katrina's eyes widened at the harshness in the elemental's words and voice. Her first reaction was surprise, and then denial. She didn't want to believe that he wouldn't still care... and then finally she remembered that they were discussing his father, not hers. The anger still stung, even if it was really deserved most by someone who wasn't here.
She suddenly felt guilty for even having asked. It seemed that no matter what topic she brought up it was a sensitive one. Something else perhaps. She'd ask about his real name or something equally harmless.
Except apparently that hit a little close to home as well. The air elemental made it clear that he wasn't going to share and furthermore, that he was done with conversation altogether.
“Thanks. Sweet dreams,” she offered the sentiments as a sort of olive branch as she in turn accepted the headphones that he offered. It would be a long plane ride and a little music would be nice to listen to. The cord was attached to something in his bag, and when Katrina pulled gently a yPod slid out of the unzipped opening in Zephyr's bag of carrying.
Katrina glanced at the air elemental, but he was leaning back with his eyes closed now and didn't seem to care if she listened to his music or the plane provided radio stations. She was more curious about his music. She turned it on , found the list of all his songs, and started scrolling down. There were a lot of interesting titles and bands she had never heard of:
Autumnbound – Rachel Diggs Can't Get My Head Around You -- Offspring Cemeteries of London -- Coldplay Walking in the Air -- Nightwish
...and many more.
Finally she picked one that she liked the title of and pressed play.
...The smoke stack spittin' black soot into the sooty sky the load on the road brings a tear to the indian's eye the elephant wont forget what its like inside his cage the ring master's telecaster sings on an empty stage
ah ha, goddam right, its a beautiful day ah ha, goddam right, its a beautiful day ah ha...
The little illusionist leaned her own head back against the seat and soon, and about five songs later had fallen asleep.
>>>"Somewhat... questionable things. The X-Men helped refugees escape. The Order mindlessly crushed things, and people, together with the Romanian Underground. The Kabal... influenced political matters through gratuitous amounts of money, and by harnessing the other 'talents' afoot."
The Kabal. So that's what the mysterious third group was called, the one for people who didn't quite fit in with the two more visible mutant groups in New York. Fausto's secret group. And Dio's, too, probably, since he hadn't flinched an inch when she had told him she was doing work for Slate in Romania. It was hard to imagine those three all in the same group, with their different personalities.
Everyone had been there, in Romania. Or, at least, representatives of all three groups had been there. Certainly it wasn't a coincidence that they were all present in the same country at the same time. From what Katrina could tell, the groups didn't take that many trips abroad.
She just couldn't figure out why they would all be working together, since most of the time they, the X's and O's that was, seemed to really hate each other. What miracle did the mysterious Kabal perform that somehow got them to cooperate? Katrina puzzled quietly for a few moments, letting it all settle in. His answer gave away a lot, but it hid even more. Money from where? What talents? and most of all, Why? Slate had asked Fausto to go... had he asked everyone to go, or had someone else asked him first?
“Did the bribes really work?” Her father had been a politician. He had supported the Registration Bill as it had passed into law. He had believed it was right. Some politicians she had met along the way she could imagine taking bribes, but others did things because they actually believed in them and money, even gratuitous amounts, wouldn't change that.
>>>”Almost twenty.”
She wanted to counter 'Almost three, more like', but instead looked him over carefully. He actually had grown up a lot since the Resistance days. The goatee made his face look a little older, but it was more his manner than his looks that did it. The way he spoke, he really did sound like a grown up now rather than a confused kid in a young man's body. Somehow she felt cheated that she had missed the change.
>>>"What would you have done differently in Romania, if you had stayed? Most of us... most of us ended up in the Camps, Katrina. I did, as well. So did Sam, and Ghost, and Shin, and others. Do you think you would have avoided being caught? Do you think if you had, you would have been able to find the Underground, and help lead the breakout?"
Katrina winced at the mention of the camps. It was the first time anyone had really talked about it to her. It explained why they all had come back looking so worn out.
What would she have done? It was a good question. She wasn't sure she had an answer. She certainly would have tried to avoid getting caught. Invisibility might have helped her, like it did before, but even that wasn't foolproof. As for finding the Underground, she wasn't sure that she would have thought to do that. Besides, that sounded an awful lot like a repeat of the bloody camp breakout that had happened in New York City, which was a pretty violent way of doing things. But was there a better way?
It was hard to know what she would have done when there were so many pieces of the puzzle missing.
“I would have...” ...found the camps and snuck in free everyone? ...started peaceful protests that would have inspired politicians to change the laws back again? ...magicked everyone back to the United States? “...I don't know.” Who was she kidding, as a fourteen year old, she really was kind of useless.
>>>"I was useless too, for the past month. I did nothing but mop the floors of the blood that guards had put there. If I knew it was your blood, I believe I may have done so less calmly. I believe I would be dead now if you had also been captured, Katrina. If they had... hurt you."
That image was hard to swallow. She could feel it knotting up in her throat like she'd bitten off too much reality to get it all down. The camps had seemed so far away, but they had really happened and Slate was here to prove it. Far away, there were others, no longer here, to prove it too.
That ellipses was even harder to swallow than the image of Slate mopping up red. It was a very serious and sad sounding ellipses. It was a reminder that she had been hurt like that once, and hadn't been able to do anything to save herself. Going to Romania had been just as dangerous, perhaps more so, than walking alone in Central Park. The realization of what she had almost done made her shiver, down to her bones and suddenly she didn't want to be sitting alone in her chair anymore and climbed into Slate's instead, if he'd have her. It was a cushy chair and neither of them was very large.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered as she settled herself next to and/or on his lap. “You're right. I shouldn't have gone.”
Then Slate elaborated on the reason why she shouldn't have gone, in a way that echoed something Sam had told her a few days previously. She wasn't just her mutation. She was a leader? People followed her, would die for her. I don't want them to do that. She may have wanted to act all grown up, but that wasn't a responsibility she was ready for.
>>>"Because we had to try, Kat. Nothing changes unless someone tries. The changes people were trying for, there... they were the wrong ones. If people wish for violence, they will have violence. We had to change the way they thought."
Slate sounded so sure of himself, when he gave his reason. If the aging green hedgehog had anything to add it would have been something like, “Try not. Do... or do not. There is no try.” Maybe Katrina had been watching too many movies and reading too many inspirational quotations, but the little guy did have a point.
“What exactly did you do in Romania?” Thoughts didn't change very easily, especially when it came to fear and hatred and prejudice and anger. How was anyone supposed to convince a whole country to change its collective mind in just a couple of months?
As for the Resistance, Katrina thought hard about it. She had to admit that she hadn't really done anything helpful at all. She'd pitched in with the training exercises, but in the end that had only contributed to the fighting. The best they had been able to do was hide. It was her turn to look down at the little hedgehog that was a small part of so many of her memories from those days, avoiding getting caught in his baby blue gaze. They hadn't done anything other than keep themselves safe; was that really what she had wanted to do in Romania, too?
>>>"Did it ever occur to you that you might help us the most by staying here, and staying safe? Sometimes you need to let the adults handle things, Katrina."
Her brow furrowed in response to that and she directed a glare, albeit a mild one, in Slate's direction. Hypocrite. He wasn't an adult any more than she was. Maybe even less.
“I don't see how me staying safe at home helps anyone. It's just the same as I did before; stay hidden, stay safe. That isn't going to make any difference to the world.”
Darkness was something she was familiar with, silence, likewise was something she was familiar with. It was the lack of feeling that was the most disconcerting. She knew she was touching the floor, but she couldn't feel it beneath her knees or her hands, at least, not very well. She couldn't think of anything or anyone that could do this to her, except... it was an awful lot like being halfway stuck in the void. Had her nullifying illusion backfired on her? Was this going to be permanent?
She really hoped not.
She tried to get her barrings by feeling out where she was. It was still the best way to get a sense of her surroundings. There was the floor; it was downward and didn't move when she pushed on it. That was the easy part. Her hands were useless at feeling textures, but they could tell when they ran into something that was not floor. Kind of. At least, she thought she found something.
It was... a person? Or maybe a bed. It was difficult to say when her only sense was the inability to keep crawling forward. Frustrated, she sat back on her feet. Really, it was useless to move when she could barely tell where she was.
Then, from somewhere, she heard a humming sound. She tilted her head. What was that?
“Music?”
It got clearer and clearer until she thought she could almost hear the words.
And on the wings of a dream, so far beyond reality, all alone in desperation, now the time has gone.