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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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.
Posted by Kiva Augillard on Mar 15, 2014 13:44:38 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
92
2
Feb 27, 2015 12:39:25 GMT -6
Kiva had really, really missed the Mansion.
It was funny. She'd lived in that apartment of hers for years, and had rarely missed it when she left it to see her family. But this place, it was different. A cynic would say she just liked it better because it was fancy, but it wasn't that. This place just seemed to embody something important to her, though she couldn't quite put a claw on what specifically.
She wasn't thinking too hard about it right now, though. Right now, she was too giddy over the fact that there weren't snowbanks taller than she was and arctic winds making it minus forty degrees. Manitoba was a lovely place, but it was freezing.
Quebec had been better, sure, but that good part had been balanced by the fact that Kiva had lost most of her French by this point of her life and she was pretty sure that the people there actually took more offense to her being an anglophone than they did to her being a mutant. Which did have a certain amount of logic to it, since she could re-learn French if she wanted to. And she had, a little. Or, well, she'd learned some very impolite words that one of her cousins had ended up yelling at somebody, but still.
Nevertheless, it was good to be home. Clover clearly agreed, as the little black cat was prancing at the very end of her harness' leash from the moment they stepped through the gates onto the grounds, and Kiva couldn't help but give a deep chuckle as she knelt down to unhook her from it. "Okay, okay, kitty cat. Go have fun. Just be back upstairs for supper."
Clover raced out across the grass in pure feline joy the moment she was free, and Kiva watched her go with another chuckle. Yep. Good to be home.
However, there was one thing missing from this picture, and it was little and blonde with shape-shifting powers. If there was one thing Kiva had really missed about the Mansion, it was Paige.
She headed for the doors, her leather boots crunching against the grass. She was in her full 'biker chick' attire, black jeans, leather jacket, and all, her wings folded snugly under said jacket. Kiva's mouth was practically stuck in a permanent smile as she thought about inviting her friend for a ride on her motorcycle. It'd been too long since they'd done something like that. And of course they'd have to catch up on everything that had gone on since she'd left.
First on the agenda was checking the living room, though, since she needed to find her friend in order to hang out with her, and the big, scaly woman peeked her head in to see if it was occupied.
Posted by Kiva Augillard on Sept 16, 2013 10:31:14 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
92
2
Feb 27, 2015 12:39:25 GMT -6
Sorry, people, should have posted here earlier. Sometimes I don't realize I'm falling off the edge of the world until it's gone and already happened.
My recent absence is influenced by a bunch of real-life stuff, but the big thing is that the majority of my muse is being poured into a fantasy novel that I had put on the back-burner before I joined here and has recently thrown itself into the front of my mind and demanded to be written. I've wanted to write a book for years, and this one requires a lot of research and careful world-building on my part because I want its medieval-like setting and various creatures to have their roots in reality. While I love every moment of the process, it's draining and what little muse that's been trickling down to RP-related endeavors gets snatched up by sites I've been on for years.
So I may not be doing much around MRO for a while. I will try to get on and lurk, and may post here and there, but my activity's probably going to be very low for a while.
Posted by Kiva Augillard on Aug 10, 2013 15:45:13 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
92
2
Feb 27, 2015 12:39:25 GMT -6
Kiva winced a little when the kid nearly did fall out of the tree, and she almost apologized as she got his balance back. She didn't, however, because she noticed he didn't react to her voice, but to her appearance, and that made a small frown replace her smile. She put the smile back in place as he peered down at her, trying not to let it get to her. At least he hadn't screamed like some people did.
When he let out that little 'um', the smile became a bit less forced but a bit more sheepish. Had she had a free hand, she would have fussed a little with her black ponytail. Why had she decided that random conversation-starting was a good idea, again? It was probably Chloe rubbing off on her, she decided, given that she'd met the butterfly-shifter by being on the receiving end of much the same.
Only neither of them had been in a tree and Kiva wasn't nearly as much of a motormouth as Chloe.
Kiva gave a faint, deep chuckle. As she spoke again, her voice crept up a little in pitch to sound a bit less masculine, but still very androgynous. "Yeah, she's a great model. When she's willing to sit still, anyway." She shifted the arm she had her own sketchbook tucked under, then found herself grasping for something else to say.
Introductions seemed like a good start. "Name's Kiva," she said, "I go by Drake, too, for, uh..." She briefly flapped her small wings. "...Reasons that are probably really obvious."
Posted by Kiva Augillard on Aug 10, 2013 14:32:52 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
92
2
Feb 27, 2015 12:39:25 GMT -6
Clover was suddenly very, very confused.
You see, Clover was not a cat who had met many mutants. In fact, she had met none until being adopted from the shelter by Kiva. Then she had met a grand total of two: her current owner in all her scaliness, and Kiva's aunt, who looked completely normal and didn't have flashy powers and so didn't stand out at all as different from any other human to Clover. Only now at the Mansion was she starting to see more of them.
Thus, shape shifters were nothing the common house cat had ever seen, nor could really comprehend. It was simply one moment, person, and the next, spork.
Spork that had a person-voice coming from it, at that.
Clover simply stared at spork-Paige in that unblinking way cats did, then plunked her rear down on the carpet, looked up at Kiva, and meowed in pure bewilderment.
Kiva on the other hand, winced and grimaced as she looked at the talking spork in the hallway. She was just making things worse for Paige, now. "Sorry," she mumbled as she shoved her key back in her pocket and knelt down to gingerly scoop up the spork.
While she would usually just carry her currently-a-utensil friend in her hand like the object she resembled, Kiva didn't know if Paige still felt pain while in this form, and so instead cradled her in her arms in a way that would probably look quite ludicrous to any hypothetical onlooker who didn't realize that the spork was a mutant.
Clover followed at her owner's heels as she walked into the room and shut the door behind her, the cat's eyes still fixated on Paige. Kiva carefully set Paige down on her bed, laying the scoop part of the spork on her pillow and then pulling the blanket over the handle. "You can rest here for now."
Clover hopped up onto the bed, and Kiva moved to stop her, but instead of trying to bat at spork-Paige like a toy or something, she instead curled up next to the pillow, her preferred napping spot, and so Kiva left her be.
That left her standing next to the bed awkwardly, and she stretched her wings slightly, tapping one of the spikes on her jaw with a claw. "So, um...If you need anything, I'll just be at my desk over there so, y'know, just let me know..."
Posted by Kiva Augillard on Aug 10, 2013 13:29:55 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
92
2
Feb 27, 2015 12:39:25 GMT -6
'Look on the branch above your head,' said the Gnat, 'and there you'll find a snap-dragon-fly. Its body is made of plum-pudding, its wings of holly-leaves, and its head is a raisin burning in brandy.'
'And what does it live on?'
'Frumenty and mince pie,' the Gnat replied; 'and it makes its nest in a Christmas box.'
Kiva Augillard was dragon-like mutant with an overall frightening visage. Her aunt had precognition. Her boss's wife had spikes running the length of her spine that she could retract at will. Her roommate had the ability to shift into inanimate objects. Her roommate's girlfriend could shift into the form of a butterfly.
Kiva lived in New York, the city with the highest concentration of mutants in the United States, perhaps even the world. Kiva even now lived in the local mutant school. She liked to think she was fairly jaded toward the bizarre, largely unafraid of monsters due to being one.
Falling down a hole and landing in a forest broke her of that delusion.
Kiva had slipped out of her room in the Mansion late at night, and found her way out into the grounds, having woken up from an unpleasant dream. Not a nightmare, per say, but strange and somewhat unsettling, the kind she usually got when stressed. Maybe that intolerant idiot earlier in the day at the tattoo parlor, who had been yapping about her employer facing eternal torment for having given her a job, had bothered her more than usual.
A deep breath of night air had helped settle her, and she'd stepped barefoot onto the grass, the thick scales on her feet meaning she hadn't been the slightest bit uncomfortable as the walked, trying to calm herself fully so that she could sleep.
That was when she'd noticed a flash of white out of the corner of her eye, and then she'd turned and seen something dart behind a tree. Curious, she'd taken a few side-steps, trying to see behind the tree.
That's when the ground under her foot had stopped being ground.
Falling, falling, falling...then thump.
Kiva picked herself up, shaking out the bits of grass and leaves that her hair had picked up from the underbrush she'd been ungracefully dumped in. She froze and gaped as she found herself staring into a mirror that was, somehow, part of a gnarled, leafless tree, surrounded by other trees that appeared far more normal.
The mirror-tree itself was strange, but not too scary. What scared her, instead, was her own reflection. Her scales, her claws, her spikes, her wings...Gone. Her face was still her own, still the sharp, brown eyes, large nose, and harsh angles, and her body still had the thick bone structure and the muscles she had built over years, but it was like something had stripped away the outside layer her mutation formed.
She didn't look like a human, however. No, she looked like something altogether different.
Kiva stared at her hands, looking at the shiny, bronze exoskeleton that had replaced her reptilian skin, and the lack of hooked claws, her fingers instead each tipped with a much shorter, pointed edge. Twitching behind her looked like a quartet of holly leaves, but when she went to flap them, they responded by buzzing much insect wings, and she felt a shudder run down her spine.
Calm down, Kiva, she told herself, Just stay calm...
Her clothing was different, too. Pants, shirt, and a vest that were all a strange brown colour, with splotches of darker colour with no real pattern, she ran a hand over the fabric to feel its odd, bumpy texture. There was a scent about it, like...fruit? Fruit, cinnamon, molasses, and a trace of alcohol. She was wearing a hat, too, a small top hat, and she pulled it off. It was deep purple, and seemed wrinkled, smelling of raisins and...more alcohol.
Well, she supposed you would have to be awfully drunk to put on an outfit like this. Kiva put the hat back on, for lack of anything better to do with it--eating it seemed out of the question when it stunk that strongly of brandy--and stared into the mirror. She stepped forward and touched her hand to the glass.
Nothing.
She retracted her hand, and it was then that Kiva noticed something carved into the bark of the tree that housed it, and she wondered if it had been there a moment ago. Sitting above the glass, right where it met the wood of the tree, were four simple words:
We're all mad here.
Another shiver ran through her, and she took one step back, then another, stifling the urge to immediately turn and start running.
Kiva didn't know what was going on, but she did know one thing: She needed to get out of here.
Kiva roughed out the position her cat was in, then started on the details, her pencil moving in practiced strokes despite the awkward way she had to hold it in her clawed hand. She didn't go for the kind of dark, heavy shading she'd normally give a black cat, for the most part just focusing on capturing the grace of the pose.
She paused for a second and laid the sketchbook down, once she was sure that she'd drawn enough that she could potentially finish it from memory if required, then grabbed her water bottle. As she gulped down a few mouthfuls of cold water, however, she caught something out of the corner of her eye and paused.
Was something in that tree over there?
Kiva put the cap back on her water bottle and looked over, peering at where she'd thought she'd seen very un-tree-like colours. She blinked a couple of times at what she saw.
Oh. Someone was in the tree. And he was holding a...
Okay, now she was curious. Sketchbook under one arm and water bottle in her free hand, she approached, moving from shady spot to shady spot until she was standing only a few feet away from the tree.
Yup, that was a sketchbook. And judging by the direction this kid was facing, they'd had similar opinions on Clover and her value as a model. Kiva paused there, considering whether she just wanted to outright strike up a conversation with some random artist kid.
Eh, if she startled him and he fell out of the tree, she'd be able to catch him. He didn't look like he weighed that much.
Putting on the friendliest smile her harsh-featured, scaly face would allow, Kiva idly stretched her wings and relaxed them as she called up in her usual rumbling, somewhat masculine voice, "Really is a beauty, isn't she? Her name's Clover."
The joys of living in a school during summer. Namely, the fact that it was much quieter. Of course, the Mansion was no ordinary school, which was why Kiva lived there in the first place; those who were left were people who, for the most part, didn't gawk like idiots over her monstrous appearance. Some of the little kids, of which there were fewer simply due to the general timing of mutation expression but that did exist, even thought she was cool.
The lovely school grounds were also a plus. She was happily nestled under a shady tree with a sketchbook and art pencil in her claws. There were some clouds in the sky breaking up the sunlight and it wasn't blisteringly hot out that day, but Kiva was still just wearing her back tank top and black jean shorts, her wings visible behind her and her exposed scales glittering in the places where the sunlight shone through between the leaves.
She also had her water bottle sitting nearby, a couple of slowly-melting ice cubes floating in it that were helping keep it cold. She took keeping herself from overheating very seriously. She kind of had to, what with her condition.
Kiva watched a familiar sleek, black form lope across the grass some distance away. Clover had taken to her new home like a fish to water, like she did pretty much anything. The once stray cat was a thing of beauty after years in Kiva's care: shiny coat, gorgeous green eyes, and a slender form that was not the extreme of a siamese or similarly-built cat, but exuded grace all the same.
Clover eventually paused and laid down in the grass, her back straight and forelegs extended in front of her like a sphinx as she tucked in her back legs and curled her slender tail around her hip. Her stared forward, ear position and gaze equally relaxed. The black cat looked downright regal.
Kiva smiled, and she flipped to a blank page of her sketchbook. Hopefully, she'd be able to capture this moment of beauty before her best feline friend decided that she'd much rather do something else.
Oh, good, she liked the idea. Kiva considered the question, looking at Butterfly and then around at the nearby trees, including the one she was sitting in the shade of. "If you want to climb a tree, sure. It'd help with getting the hand placement just right with the vines, since the sprite would be sort of reaching down from her resting spot. I could get a good result with you on the ground too, though, so don't feel like you have to or anything..."
Kiva did imagine that Butterfly was fine with climbing, what with having suggested it in the first place and it being highly unlikely that someone who shape-shifted into a winged creature would be a afraid of heights. Still, she was pretty much hardwired to say such things due to her day job at the tattoo parlor.
"You can shift after we get the main pose done," Kiva added, "So we'll know exactly what angle I need to sketch your wings from for it to fit right."
Well, so much for keeping a straight face; Kiva let out a loud, very ungraceful snort of laughter at the word 'cooties' that dissolved into a few snickers before she managed to quiet down. The grin she was wearing stayed for a while afterward, though.
Ty using the word 'perfect' certainly didn't hurt, and Drake didn't hide the fact that she was proud over that. She looked between the sketch and the place where he wanted the tattoo, forming a proper mental picture, then set the book aside and grabbed what she needed to sterilize the spot on his chest.
Noel's comment on its permanency didn't offend Drake any; she gave a small nod. "She's right. If you want me to tweak it in any way, go right ahead and say so. You're the one wearing the ink, after all." Her eyes flicked to her own bare arms very briefly. "I know I'd be picky as all h*** if my skin could be tattooed."
Posted by Kiva Augillard on Jul 30, 2013 21:24:03 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
92
2
Feb 27, 2015 12:39:25 GMT -6
Kiva's a little heat sensitive, herself, actually. Her scaled skin doesn't allow her to sweat. She tends to adhere herself to shady spots on the hot days and carry a bottle of water if she's going to be outside for any length of time.
As for what she likes sketching, her main focus is on living things: People, plants, and animals (it's pretty much impossible to flip through a sketchbook of hers and not see an image of her own cat in there somewhere). She'll do a quick sketch of pretty much anything that catches her interest if she's in the mood to and it's not moving, though.
If they did end up sketching the same thing, Kiva would probably end up making some sort of observation about the subject--not him sketching it, but the subject itself--to see if she could start a conversation.
Posted by Kiva Augillard on Jul 30, 2013 18:25:34 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
92
2
Feb 27, 2015 12:39:25 GMT -6
Well, Kiva's got a day job, so she's more likely to be hanging around in the late afternoon or evening unless it's her day off. Sleepless nights where she wanders out of her room in the middle of the night happen, but they're not all that common. She likes to sketch things out on the grounds or hang out in the living room, mostly, but I think I can think up reasons for her to be most places around the Mansion if need be.
Posted by Kiva Augillard on Jul 22, 2013 20:12:50 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
92
2
Feb 27, 2015 12:39:25 GMT -6
Oh, I'm certainly still interested. Kiva needs to meet more people, especially around the Mansion. And there's no horror stories here; the big dragon woman's had a very normal life, at least compared to most. Some harassment and fights, sure, but nothing she dwells on. Kiva's the type who tries not to let what she is define her when she can, and is very much a gentle giant.
Posted by Kiva Augillard on Jul 15, 2013 17:21:50 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
92
2
Feb 27, 2015 12:39:25 GMT -6
If you're at all interested in Aiden meeting a highly visible mutant, Kiva's a friendly sort of person and lives in the Mansion now. She's not likely to even blink at his sunglasses since she's covered in scales and has claws and wings. She's also an artistic type who's often carrying around a sketchbook, and has a very sweet, friendly black cat for a pet.
Posted by Kiva Augillard on Jul 15, 2013 16:59:07 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
92
2
Feb 27, 2015 12:39:25 GMT -6
"Anytime," Kiva said softly, as Paige snuggled into her. She didn't smile. She couldn't if she'd tried right now.
As she entered the building she made the decision to try to avoid the more populated areas with things the way they were. She really didn't want to make any more a spectacle out of the two of them than she had to, more out of respect for Paige's pride than anything. Luck looked to be on her side as she made her way through the halls to the residents' rooms without running into anyone, until she reached her room's door.
She'd locked the door behind her when she'd last left it. That meant that she had to unlock it. The key was in her jeans pocket and both her arms were occupied carrying Paige.
"...S***."
Kiva had not thought this through at all.
The obvious answer would be to put Paige down, but she really didn't want to do that. A floor that kids and adults alike trod upon daily was not something she wanted to go putting her hurt friend down on. However, given that the next three options to enter her mind were attempting to fetch her key and unlock the door while holding Paige and risk dropping her, calling for help, or kicking her own door down, and she didn't want to do any of that either, there wasn't much choice here, was there?
Shame she wasn't a telekinetic or had an extra prehensile limb or something. Stupid useless mutation...
Kiva sighed. No time for that. Just standing here wasn't helping anybody. "Gotta put you down for a sec. Sorry," she told Paige, before she very carefully set her down near the door, the arm around the blonde's legs gently lowering them to the floor before the one around her shoulders gently eased them back so that she was resting against the wall. Kiva really hoped that was comfortable, or at least comfortable enough for the few seconds required to get her door open.
The moment she did open her door, however, a sleek, black, furry shape slipped out and wove between the dragon woman's legs before noticing the other woman on the floor. Clover automatically made her way over to Paige and, with a soft mew, the black cat lightly rubbed her head against her hip as if trying to comfort her.
Posted by Kiva Augillard on Jul 14, 2013 21:51:34 GMT -6
Noel likes this
Epsilon Mutant
92
2
Feb 27, 2015 12:39:25 GMT -6
Drake managed to keep a straight face through Noel teasing Ty, though it wasn't that hard since she gave that little 'you can ask me to stop' speech before every tattoo for a reason. There was no shame in not liking being jabbed with pointy needles, or being nervous about it.
"So," she said as she fetched the book she'd drawn the sample letters in for Noel's tattoo and found an empty page. "Killer skeleton fish. How about..." She trailed off, having been more-or-less speaking to herself as she rapidly got to work, occasionally glancing up to look at the hummingbird on the young man's chest and where the fish was supposed to go.
"Hmm...This?" She showed what she had so far to Ty.
In front of him was a creature that could have once been called a simple set of fish bones, but now was a fearsome undead beast. The ribs were viciously sharp, and the vertebrae of the spine more resembled spikes running down its length, leading to a pair of longer, slender spikes in the place and general shape of tail fins. Its mouth was open, ready to strike, and was crammed full of teeth that brought to mind an exaggeration of an angler fish, and the eye sockets had a slant to their shape to suggest angry eyebrows.
Hopefully, he'd like it, but, like always, she was happy to sit here and tweak it until it was perfect.