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.
Pleasantries, pleasantries. It was always the same polite script when meeting someone new. First names, then nice to meet yous, then mutations, etcetera.
“Nice to meet you.” See? The same. It was a good thing they didn't have new people everyday, or the days would get boring indeed. Katrina decided to change things up for once. Rather than have her answer the same questions she had probably answered several dozen times, each time she met someone new in the school, Katrina would rather ask questions that would help her find out about Cailyn as a person.
“So, if you could have any one wish come true, what would you wish for?”
Katrina was not trying to startle anybody, so she was a bit surprised when the girl jumped. She jumped a little, too. At least the girl was most definitely and solidly real. She even said “good morning”.
“Good morning. What's your name? Are you new here?” Katrina smiled, welcomingly. Maybe the girl was looking for some breakfast or something. Katrina's own mother was in charge of the kitchen here at the mansion, and she was still asleep upstairs in her bed. At this time of day there wasn't going to be any fancy breakfasts unless someone made it for themselves.
“I'm Katrina, by the way,” she walked up to the girl and held out her hand if the girl wanted to shake it. She figured if the girl ad some sort of mutation that made it dangerous to touch her skin or anything like that, she would wear gloves or refuse to touch anyone. Katrina would be understandingly unoffended if her handshake were refused.
It was early morning. The only reasons Katrina ever had to be awake at that time of day, especially now that summer vacation had started, was either because she had stayed up late reading and hadn't fallen asleep yet, or had nightmares that had woken her up early. Today, it was the latter of the two.
She walked down the street, her red-gold retriever pulled anxiously to get farther ahead and her arm was pulled straight out ahead of her. She had to walk stiffly so she didn't get pulled over onto her face. As she walked the sky turned cloudy, and it turned cool. The dog stopped to sniff a sign post, then turned up to look at her master with empty eye sockets. The tongue hanging down from her jaw-less mouth was blackened with rot. The dog tugged on the leash again and they were off again.
The sky continued to darken, but the clouds were not real. With her ability to see both reality and illusion, she could tell that these clouds were true clouds. Who would be making them, though? The corpse dog continued to lead her down the street and she followed obediently behind. The trees were gnarled and angry on this pathway. Their angry branches reached toward the pathway trying to ensnare the pedestrians walking by.
One person, walking ahead of her, nearly was caught by the white, finger-like twigs of a birch. He turned back towards Katrina, as if to warn her, but his hair was already transforming into rustling leaves. His toes had sprouted long and rope-y from his shoes and began snaking their way down into the earth, rooting him in place. His face twisted in pain and he tried to reach for her, tried to call out, but his voice was choked up by a squirrel that crawled out of his mouth. Beneath the tree, she could still see the man, walking away as if nothing had happened.
Reality was breaking down all around her. She could no longer tell what was real and what was an illusion.
Katrina had woken with a start. All week she'd been having these dreams where she became trapped in her own illusions and hadn't been able to escape them. She wasn't sure what had triggered it, but for the whole week she had been avoiding practicing her illusions at all. She didn't want anything to happen like it did in the dream, where the illusions had taken over reality.
Now that she was awake, there was no going back to sleep. It was almost time to get up anyway, at least for normal people. She would have liked to have slept until ten or eleven today, since she hadn't been sleeping well. Maybe a nap later in the afternoon sunshine would serve her better. Katrina opened the door to her bedroom and wandered out into the hallway in her silky pajamas: a matching t-shirt and shorts set she used when the weather was at its hottest. She checked her mothers' room first to find that her mom was still safely asleep. Then she headed downstairs, following the twists and turns of the halls at random until she saw someone else moving around, too.
It was a girl with short white hair, but it wasn't Ghost. It was a person Katrina had never seen before. She assumed that the girl must be a new resident or student.
>>>“I think... there is not any shame receiving aid. Things do seem to be easier, when others help.” ... “I do not think it is that you cannot learn without others; it is that others make it easier to see things clearly.”
If he was not ashamed of her for needing help, perhaps Katrina didn't have to be ashamed of herself either.
“In that case, study sessions in math and geography sound perfect.” That would be one part of the next school year she would be looking forward to. Maybe they could even start now, so she could relearn some of those math things she hadn't quite figured out. She had passed, which meant she got to move on, but the foundation for new concepts would be shaky if she didn't do anything about it.
As Slate settled his arms around her shoulders and his head on the top of hers, she squeezed him back for a hug times two.
At least she hadn't failed anything, she told herself. She had passed all her classes and advanced on to the next grade like she was supposed to do. She couldn't help but be disappointed in herself, though. She almost hadn't made it through math. She had probably nearly failed the final in math to end up with a grade like that. She had hoped that with all the studying she had done for that one that she could have actually boosted her grade a little rather than dragging it down. How could she fail that last test when she had tried so hard to pass it? That was what bothered her the most.
The rest of the grades were not unexpected. She pretty much knew that she wasn't good at memorizing capital cities, they just sounded like foreign words that had no meaning to her. She liked most of the science topics, especially astromomy and biology. When they got into physics and chemistry subjects, though, the applied math dragged her down a little. At least that math was for a purpose. She could see why math was necessary for figuring out how fast a car has gone. She just wasn't very good at it. Physical Education in the Danger Room wasn't her favorite, but she participated pretty well and tried her best even though she wasn't very athletic.
“I should be able to do it on my own. I can't understand why I can't learn math. I can do math when someone holds my hand through all the problems, but as soon as I have to do it on my own, like on a test, I can't.”
I do want to study with you, it's just...
“It's just... I tried. It's not that I didn't study without you here. I even studied extra, but it seems like the harder I try at it the worse I do.”
She let the folded sheet of paper fall from her fingers and float to the floor. She wrapped her arms around Slate again, this time because she needed the comfort. Her eyes were starting to fill with liquid. She squeezed them shut so the drops couldn't escape, but she accidentally left one tiny spot of water on Slate's shirt.
Slate didn't nod or frown or respond in any way to her thoughts on the moral dilemmas of being able to read more of people's thoughts than they wanted to be read. Rather, he changed the subject and the manner of communication. Perhaps he needed time to think on that particular topic some more, or perhaps she had adequately answered his question and he was ready to move on to the next subject: her grades.
“Sure. I don't mind looking at them with you.”
Katrina grabbed the folded paper and without any of the rigmarole of opening an envelope or anything like that, she flipped it open. Her classes were listed in one column, with her grades in another column.
Art: A- Geography: C+ Mathematics: D General Science: B- English: A- Physical Education: B
Katrina held the paper very still in her hand. She hadn't thought she had done that badly.
If he couldn't help but read every thought that passed through a person's mind, if he couldn't stop from learning everyone's deepest and darkest secrets, if he couldn't keep everyone's private information from leaking into his own mind, he would have access to a lot of information.
I suppose if you couldn't help reading things that are broadcast your way it isn't wrong that you hear them. If the thoughts are things that should be private, or that a person wouldn't want you to know, I think the right thing to do would be to forget about it if you could. If you couldn't do that, then you should at probably keep the fact that you know their secrets a secret. Don't let the person know you found out and don't let other people know either.
Except, now that she said it, there were several situations she could think of where she would not follow her own advice.
I think there are exceptions, though. You will have to weigh whether doing nothing about the secret is more moral than doing something about it. For example, if you read from someone's mind that they were planning on killing someone, it is better to try and stop them from killing than it is to keep that a secret. People's lives are more important than secrets.
Slate smiled. So... he had heard all the questions too? He must have, because he answered them. Talking in one's head was a little strange. It was easier in some ways. It was perhaps a bit faster, because the tongue didn't have to try and keep up with the thoughts. In other ways it was more difficult. For Katrina the difficulty lay in stopping the little trains of thought. It was much easier to just shut her mouth to stop all her thoughts from spilling over into the conversation. When the conversation and the thoughts were all in the same place it was harder to keep them sorted out. At least, it was so far. She hadn't found that door she could clamp down and keep stray thoughts from going every which way they wanted.
According to Slate he could only hear what she told him. She hadn't exactly meant to ask all those questions, but they had come out anyway. That was her fault. It was like talking, but without the extra filter. It would just take some getting used to.
>>>If I could read more, would that be a bad thing?
I... Would it be a bad thing? On principle, thoughts seemed like they should be private, but she didn't have any thoughts she particularly wanted to hide. If she had lied to someone or if she had a secret someone asked her to keep she supposed she wouldn't want those things read. Nor would she want anyone digging though and embarrassing memories, not that she could think of any right now. Not that she was purposely avoiding thinking about any times when she had done embarrassing things. Train thought officially derailed. She also wouldn't want anyone reading who she liked... but then, wasn't even sure on that herself.
I don't have anything to hide from you, so I suppose it wouldn't be a bad thing. It just might be awkward for both people if someone could read every embarrassing memory another person had, or could tell who a person liked or liked, or if someone had promised to keep a secret. Those would be things that should probably be private unless someone wants to share them. If they had any of those things. That is.
Katrina could tell Slate was jealous of her phone. She could tell from the twitch in his lip, the tilt of his head. Clearly he wished he had one just like it for himself. Maybe later she would show it to him. She'd left it in her room today. She didn't get very many phone calls on it. Yet. Not everyone she knew had the phone number yet. She had contemplated making business cards, but hadn't gotten around to it. Already the laziness of summer was setting in.
As for the answer(s) to her questions, he wasn't sure. He could speak to Calley over the several miles between the Labs and the mansion, though, and that was pretty darn impressive. Did that mean Calley was far away right now, if Slate couldn't find him?
>>>How far is your own range?
Woah. Katrina stiffened, sitting upright and finally letting go of Slate's torso. Woah. That had been in her head, like her own thought but in a different voice and she hadn't put it in there herself. Not that thoughts really had voices she could hear with her ears, but she could still distinguish it from her own. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to answer that out loud, or if she should think the answer at him.
She furrowed her brow with concentration and thought as clearly as she could, I...don't...know.... It was hardly her fault if he overheard the rest that followed. How much can you hear? Can you read all my memories? Can you read things I'm not even thinking about? Is it like being in the void where you can hear all my thoughts? Can a person hide thoughts from you?
He had successfully distracted her from Columbia, the school he built, Hunter, and the Labs whether he had meant to or not. She might remember later that he had never answered those questions, but for now her mind was a whir with a whole different set of questions.
“No,” her face fell a little, “I was going to open it alone. No one has been in this room for more than a week, so I figured it would be private.” She realized a moment too late that he might think she was disappointed to find him there. “Except, I'm glad that you're here. I just wanted to look at it before my mom got the chance. I'm not sure how well I did in some classes. I'm still not sure I want to know.”
>>>“Did you?” Slate blinked. “What kind?”
“It's a Yeskia. And its red and shiny. It doesn't have a keypad for texting or anything, but it does have solitaire installed.” Did he mean what kind of dog? She'd better answer that, too. “Kenzie is the dog. She's a golder retriever, but she's kind of reddish, too. Sam got too many puppies at once, because he was rescuing them or something. Once they got big, he couldn't keep them all anymore, so he gave Kenzie to me. He also gave Thor to Shin and Roxxie went to live with Sara.”
>>>“You could practice with me,” he offered. “I am sure I could make room in my schedule.”
That would be a good idea actually. It was getting rather difficult to practice her illusions in her room all be herself. Maybe Slate could practice his newfound telepathy at the same time. They could try sending messages to each other. How far away was Mondragon Labs again? Would she even be allowed to go there? Katrina nodded to answer him, then added, “Yeah, I'd like that.” It would be a lot more fun than studying math, even if Slate did make math a little more interesting that it was normally.
She had kept up with his questions pretty well. Not in reverse order like Calley would have done, but she thought she had gotten them all. When she finished her barrage of questions, Slate answered the last one. She thought he would answer the last first, like Calley, but he only answered the last one. The somewhat baffled look on his face seemed to say that he couldn't remember the other ones. Right. Slate was not his brother. He was more of a one thing at a time person and Calley was that all at once one.
So first, judo.
“It's probably good to be able to defend yourself, too, since being a telepath probably doesn't help much if someone is trying to mug you or something.” Illusions weren't that great a defense either, now that she thought about it. She should maybe look into that.
Second, telepathy.
“Speaking of being a telepath, can you send messages to anyone and how far can you send them?” That was technically two questions, but they were related. Like two brothers living in the same body.
Slate awkwardly hugged her back. Katrina decided that you can't really go wrong with hugs. They had the effect of making someone feel a little better no matter how well they were executed. Slate really did seem sorry for not telling her in the first place. He made up for it by listing all the things he had been doing since then. She blinked in surprise, then remembered that she should probably let go of him or her hug would turn into a cuddle. On second thought, she had been a little short on her hug quota lately.
That was a lot of things that he listed. It was no wonder to her that he hadn't had the time to stop by the mansion to help her with her slightly-harder-than-she'd-hoped-it-would-be math homework. And he hadn't thought to leave a note or anything. That was hardly surprising, considering Calley had just barely learned to do that. She had a million questions for him, but he asked one before she could get any of them out, so it would be the polite thing to do to answer his first.
“Since you've been gone? I've spent a lot of time doing school stuff. I just got my grade report today. I haven't even looked at it yet.” It was sitting, still folded, on the bed next to her. “I got to go to a fancy ball and wear a frilly pink dress. Calley was there, and Koga, and Fausto, and even Abyss!” She left the part about possibly having broken Fausto's heart out. “I visited the Sanctuary and I met a whole bunch of people. Garrett lives there now. I got a cell phone. It used to belong to Mars, but he said I could keep it. I got a dog, too. She used to belong to Sam.” She'd gotten a lot of hand-me-downs lately. She wasn't complaining, though. She wouldn't trade either of the gifts. “Oh, and I can make a different kind of illusion now so that only one or two people can see it instead of everyone in the room. It's like telling secrets. It's hard to practice, though, because most people around here only know that I can turn invisible and that's all.”
This was more like what it was supposed to sound like between two friends. Not curt responses and yelling and hurt feelings. Slate probably hadn't known any better. It was difficult to guess what he knew and didn't know sometimes, because she didn't want to assume he knew too much nor did she want to assume he knew nothing. Either way there was potential for being rude. But maybe she was worrying about it too much. If they were both themselves and could accept the other despite their misunderstandings, they had the makings of a good friendship.
Also, he had some explaining to do about some of those activities he'd been involved in. If he was anything like Calley he'd be able to keep up with rapid fire questions with ease. And he'd answer them in reverse order.
“What happened to Hunter? I thought he was in charge of Mondragon Labs. What is the school like? What was Columbia like? I wanted to go to the convention there, but my mother wouldn't let me go. How far away can you talk to people? Can you talk to me? Why are you learning judo?”
Something rather peculiar was happening to Slate's posture. For the first time since Katrina had known him he was not sitting up straight. Nor was he lying down. He was at the halfway point where so many teenagers stayed for their entire adolescence. He was slumping. It was almost like he was melting.
Katrina wasn't in any frame of mind to notice this during her tirade. It was after that, when she was catching her breath again, breaths that were a little shorter and a little more choked feeling than they had been before, that she noticed something. Slate's voice was very quiet, even timid sounding.
>>>“We are.” ... “I think so, in any case.” ... “I would like to be.” He added, quickly; “I like you.”
Katrina opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. Took a deep breath and blinked. They were still friends, then. At least she thought that's what he said. Then the hurried addition to the end of that sentiment: he had said that he liked her. Surely he didn't mean he liked her. Did he? Katrina was confused enough by this entire conversation that she wasn't sure what to think. Slate knew a lot about math, and only a little about culture. Did that little bit he knew include what connotations the words 'I like you' had? She hadn't yet thought of an appropriate answer when a Slate's face took on a very worried, possibly even afraid look.
>>>“I’m sorry ... I’m sorry. I didn’t know that I should— I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”
That was remarkably easier to answer. “I'm not going anywhere,” her own voice was soft now, too. She tentatively reacher out her arms and leaned over to put them around Slate's thin frame.
Slate sat on the bed next to her. That meant he wasn't going to disappear, at least not physically. Was that a surprised look on his face just then? He hadn't finished his sentence. Katrina tried to remember if that usually meant he was surprised. He blinked. That didn't help. Then he started explaining, which helped a little more that the blinking.
“Splintering? Was that like what he did at that meeting where he was a black cat and a boy? He does the tiger and boy every once in awhile, too.” She hadn't known he had named the ability.
The rest of his words were now sinking in. Sinking in the Titanic sank into the ocean: slowly at first and without realization of what it meant, then sped up in a can't-believe-its-actually-true kind of way.
She parroted his words, still not believing them and wanting to double check that she'd heard that right, “You... each... have a body.” There were several blinks of disbelief that followed this statement. Each. And Slate's body, with Slate in it, had been working at Mondragon Labs all this time while Calley had been attending, or more recently skipping, classes here.
It occurred to her that maybe something that life changing in her best friends' lives should have been mentioned to her. That was the kind of thing you mentioned, wasn't it? Guess what, I have my own boy now. It was like getting married, moving into your first apartment, or having your first kid, maybe even bigger than those things. You were supposed to tell your friends those kinds of things. Calley should have known that!
Katrina was flustered, “Since when? Why didn't Calley tell me? Why didn't you tell me? When something good happens to you, you're suppose to tell your friends. Didn't you know? That's what friends are for. You're suppose to spend time with friends and share the things that happen to you. The good things and the bad things. Friends are suppose to help support you when things go wrong, but they also celebrate with you when happy things happen. I... I thought we were friends.”
Katrina frowned. She had been used to Slate's unique mannerisms once upon a time. His curt and strictly businesslike response surprised her. And the fact that it was surprising also surprised her. Had it really been so long that she had forgotten he talked like that?
His next question was even more surprising, not because of the manner of delivery, but because of the content of the query.
>>>“Have you seen my brother?”
“What?” she was taken aback, “You mean Calley? Since when are you brothers and since when can you not find him yourself? Isn't he kind of hard to lose?”
They were talking now, so Katrina assumed he wasn't going to kick her out of his room. Therefore she invited herself the rest of the way into the room and shut the door behind her. Then, because she remembered at least a little about Slate and thought that he probably wouldn't think to offer her a seat, she made herself comfortable on the pillowless bed.
She had not expected anyone to be there, and yet there someone was. Someone that perhaps had even more right to be in that room than she did. Though his face was Calley's, his posture and facial expression were unmistakably Slate's. Katrina was even more surprised to see him than she would have been to see Calley standing there.
Calley had only been missing for a week and a half or so. The only was a relative term. A week and a half was a very long time, but compared to Slate it warranted an “only”. Slate hadn't made an appearance for several months. Katrina didn't know he'd actually been busy somewhere else. All she knew was that the more stoic of the two personalities that had inhabited the blue eyed, brown haired boy that was practically the first person she had become friends with after she became a mutant hadn't spoken to her since January.
She couldn't figure out any reason that he had stopped tutoring her in mathematics, had stopped seeing her altogether, except for that he was mad at her for some reason. Calley hadn't talked to her about it, and in fact hadn't even touched the subject with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole- when he had been around, which wasn't often lately. She hadn't wanted to bring it up either, in case it was rude to talk about someone behind their back when they could very well be listening. It was just an awkward situation all around.
Slate didn't seem happy to see her either. His “Ah, Katrina” was lacking in emotion, even for Slate who showed less emotion that the average Vulcan first officer or android lieutenant commander. (With many of her friends taking leaves of absence from the mansion, Katrina had been spending her extra time watching old Star Trek episodes.)
Katrina wasn't sure how to respond. If he had at least shown some glimmer of being happy to see her, she probably would have bear hugged him. His demeanor kind of put up walls, though, and she wasn't sure how that sort of thing would be received. “Slate,” her voice was conversational and polite, “long time no see.”
He wouldn't disappear on her now, would he? She had caught him unaware, and he obviously hadn't intended for her to walk in? Would he retreat behind Calley and avoid talking to her again?