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.
Sylar nearly laughed out loud, but refrained as the girl switched gears and began to exchange jabs with him. "All mutant girls are just trouble. I need more girl friends like I need a whole in my head." Sylar quipped as he turned and move towards the bench she had been sitting on earlier. He began feeling around at the ground, moving from the bench to a nearby rock before blindly finding what he was looking for, a small bag. Though his eyes were turned from Charlotte, his ears weren't. Any sound out of the ordinary and he'd be ready to react.
She perceived him to be an alien, not the first to think that. He was predatory, primal, but not like any animal of this earth. "Maybe I am, I've also been called the Boogeyman. I at least know I'm a mutant." Sylar answered as he removed the shirt and pants from the bag. She made a joke about borrowing clothes, the clue being her giggle. This girl was a prime example of why Sylar disliked dealing with mutant girls, all blunder and fuss one moment, giggling at you the next. At least the humans were all equally terrified and easy to deal with. He sighed as he slid one of his claws up his shirt, cutting the wet cloth in half and throwing it off. He pulled the new one, and feeling better turned his head to look at Charlotte, noticing her coming nearer to the land. Good, less likely she'd want to keep fighting. More chance he could win if she did.
Sylar guessed that was a fair enough statement, generally people didn't intend to intrude upon his territory, or wherever he might be at the moment. It was hard to turn the territorial alpha instincts off. "I guess that's true. The rock just sort of ticked me off." He mumbled as he wondered what to do now. He could just bolt and be out of here, but talking with a mutant generally was an experience he didn't pass on. Might as well test the waters out a bit more, and make sure he didn't need to show the girl not to mess with him again. She offered him something, a small heat source? Oh a cigarette, he recognized that putrid scent. He held up his claw in a no gesture. "No, can't stand the things." He replied bluntly.
While he was turning down her friendly offer of a cancer stick, he unfolded his new pair of jeans and pulled the last piece of clothing free, his jacket. Charlotte was actually getting a rarity in her encounter, Sylar didn't have his usual hoodie on to hide his androgynous alien face, or red mane of hair. His tail swished behind him as he wondered if he should wait to switch pants or not, girls usually got bothered by that sort of thing right?
It seems both of them had planned a trap, Sylar's eyes watching as the background behind Charlotte, the river rose up at her command and struck forward after him. His body spun, slamming her with his tail, feeling a good solid blow against her but he'd have to immediately take another blow. The boy quickly rose up, bringing his arms together to guard his chest and soften her strike as a column of water struck him. He felt a solid force strike right into his arms, his guard quickly pressed back into his chest and pushing him back. This was stronger than her first strike, and felt almost like taking a horse kick to the chest. "Crap." He mumbled as his claws skid back in the dirt a bit before the water dissipated.
His armor had held, but a lovely bruise was forming on his arm and chest right now. He was going to feel like crap tomorrow. Having stood his ground, he watched as the girl stood hers, seemingly floating atop the cold surface of the river. Just like he thought. "I can't catch a break, another uppity mutant girl." He mumbled as he shook his arms, trying to shake off the impact she'd landed on him. If she could control water, going any closer to her now would basically be suicide. Never follow an animal into it's den, and the water was this girl's home. He backed up a few more steps, standing now as opposed to his odd crouch from earlier. "A water mutant, never met one of you before." Sylar said, unaware of her limitations and assuming they were at a stalemate so long as she was water bound.
"My hoodie and a pair of pants actually, not sure you'd want it lady." He said, his senses glued to Charlotte now, not missing a single signal she'd give off. "I hid it around here, and when I come back you're right on top of it." Generally Sylar wasn't a talkative person, but he didn't like hurting, or being hurt by other mutants, might as well talk her down a bit. At least till she got off the water.
Sylar followed Clyde through the front door, though the closer they got to the mansion the odder Sylar's posture got. It was like watching someone go from confident to cowardly in fast forward. On the outside he was safe, able to flee into the open at anytime. But inside was like being in a cage to Sylar sometimes. He pulled his hood tightly as he passed through the door, his speed slowing down as he followed Clyde into the Mansion. "As much as I break onto the grounds, I wonder if I should be on that registry." He thought aloud, revealing that this wasn't his first time sneaking onto the Mansion's grounds.
A precaution he said, which was fair. Mutants were all like walking time bombs, with various insane powers that could level buildings or just destroy other people. Sylar alone could knock down walls, flip over cars, and tear people in half. Nobody should have this kind of power naturally, able to be misused at the slightest loss of control. Clyde claimed they were all still human, but Sylar knew better. He was half a human at best...the rest was a living weapon. "Most of us are, I started all human too you know. But now i'm probably just half a human, eventually I'll just be it." He said, giving away some of his inner thoughts as they crossed through the foyer of the mansion and into the main house of various mutants whom Sylar was acquainted with.
So Clyde didn't know about Sanctuary, made sense, Clyde seemed normal enough, still plenty human. He didn't need to do the things mutants like Sylar or other Sanctuary inhabitants did to get by. "It's another big home for mutants here in New York. Not as...homey as this big Mansion feels, but still a safe place for out kind. I figured the two might be working together in some way." He continued to think aloud, though his body language seemed anxious. Sylar was suddenly looking around, as if checking for something that would come out and bite him. Mostly it was just that nagging feeling he got when he was inside, like he didn't belong in a place like this, in a place so normal.
No human could hit harder than that, it was like taking a 2x4 to the face. Anyone else would have serious head trauma, only Sylar's dense musculature and bones made the blow more like a punch. And it still hurt, he'd rather not take any more knocks to his skull. The girl was either a mutant, or had some kind of weapon he couldn't see. Time to find out. "That would have knocked anybody out girl, but I'm still standing. You'd better worry about how hard I can hit." He growled, putting on his best monster act.
If the girl was a mutant, than perhaps this night could be salvaged, then again the last mutant he fought had no wish to compromise, best to take a winning position before bargaining. Her smile was wasted on Sylar, his blind eyes unable to see the gesture. As was the frown. "Then maybe you shouldn't pick a fight woman!" He hissed as he suddenly darted forward dodging the rock she'd thrown at him, closing the distance between them, but then stopping abruptly short, maybe three feet away from her, spinning his body on the ground and lashing out his own whip, a heavy armored tail at her, with the intention to knock the girl right across her chest with it. Time to test Charlotte's mettle.
This move would force a response but leave Sylar time to observe and judge the girls reaction, was it a weapon? A gun or self defense thing? Or was it a power, either way he'd know now and be able to react in the future. If he hit her, it'd be just as hard as the whip that cracked him across the head, but otherwise he could act based upon her retaliation. "There's something here I want, something that's mine." He responded to her earlier question, his mind shifting into the predator as he began to give up what little civility he had left.
Sylar's plan had been to pounce, and either send the girl running, or pin her long enough to silence her. He'd already irked the cops on one side of the river, no reason to get a bunch people coming after him now when he was still ice cold. However as his body flew through the air towards Charlotte, a third option seemed to get selected. He couldn't make it out very well, but some secondary movement around the girl lashed out at him, smacking him straight in the face. He'd already been hit with a rock and now she'd hit him with something else, his ears were starting to ring.
A solid bit of force, like a good solid punch to the face sent him spiraling backwards while his body suddenly downwards towards the ground. He hit the dirt with a thud but quickly righted himself, shaking his head to banish the ringing still in his ears. what did she hit him with? It wasn't another rock, honestly it felt...wet? What the heck was going on here. His tail flicked back and forth, as the monstrous boy turned to stare at the girl again. She'd moved while he hit the ground, and for whatever reason was standing near the water instead of running for civilization.
Sylar remembered another night when he had to deal with a fighter, what was it about women lately. Usually they just screamed and ran, or worse fainted and had to be moved. Only mutants gave Sylar trouble like this...wait. Sylar hissed a bit, an action that would come off as hostile but was actually the boy feeling annoyed that he could guess how this would turn out. "You hit me...hard." Sylar slowly turned to face her, crouched low like a tiger threatening it's prey in a fight. "You should be running, I know you're afraid." Sylar's tail swayed behind him like an angry cobra, slowly from right to left and back again. The blade always pointed at Charlotte, like it had a life of it's own. "But instead you back into a corner, and stand your ground...like you could win the fight, why?" Sylar couldn't be sure, but he had a feeling in his gut.
"What's making you stay human?" Unlike before, Sylar held back clearly cautious. She'd hit him with something, he needed to figure out what. Either to know if he should run...or take this seirously.
The display of power between predator and prey was one of nature's more interesting moments to witness. Each creature attempting to convince the other that picking a fight would be a bad idea. And now this moment was happening between Sylar and Charlotte, and the first move from Sylar was definitely a good one. His nature affinity for appearing terrifying put his foot in the door of her mind. Sylar's eyes watched the girl for any sign, of fear, or of aggression, his eye sight revealing so much more than a normal person's could.
Her voice was shaky as the girl spoke, asserting herself against Sylar's presence. Sylar pondered on exactly how to act towards this girl, all he knew was that he wanted to get warm quickly, so best to scare her off. "I'm a monster, the darkness is my home." He crept forward another step, his body low to the ground at an angle that would completely tear and murder a normal person's muscles. His tail swayed back and forth a bit, the blade at the end curling towards the girl, gleaming in the moonlight. She tried to threaten throwing something else at him, and Sylar just smiled a bit.
An alien hiss crept from his throat, mixed with his breath as the cold air began to fill his lungs and his body began warming up. "Rocks? You'll need a lot more than rocks girl." Sylar finished his sentence, and silence fell on the area, an ominous setting before the sewer boy leapt forward, pouncing towards Charlotte with all the speed and ferocity of a tiger.
Swimming across the river was rarely fun, and with winter chilling the water to an uncomfortably numb feeling on his flesh, Sylar definitely wasn't having fun tonight. However sometimes swimming was the only way to avoid...unnecessary attention. He didn't need to steal to feed himself anymore, but old habits die hard they say. He had crossed the river to avoid any of his usual suspects he bumped into on a raid, and had managed to find a few places worth checking out. However coming back across had suddenly ended with a very odd bit of happenstance.
Sylar was heading for a specific point on the home side of the river, where he'd left some spare clothes to change into once he'd exited the freezing water. That spot however had now seemingly attacked him with a rock. He was sitting beneath the water, his monstrous form hidden beneath the murky shade of the river when a good solid rock sank through the surface and landed right on the boy's head. His shadow on the surface would have stopped dead, followed by a brief release of bubbles escaped to the surface as the boy mouthed the word "Seriously?". He sat for a moment, trying to figure out why a rock came at him before realizing somebody must be on the bank throwing them in.
Sylar needed his fresh clothes unless he wanted to catch the worst cold of his life, so it was time to play his favorite part and scare whoever was throwing stones out of their mind. The shadow in the water began to move again, this time straight towards where the rock had come from. Reaching the bank quickly, what crawled from the water was no human being, no pleisosaur, but just a monster clad in darkness. His armored arm erupted from the surface of the chilled water, a black claw digging into the earth and pulling more of him free of the river. A humanoid form rose as water ran off his flesh, the frosty air sending a shiver down Sylar's spine as he looked up to see a woman standing on the bank.
His tail flexed, curling up behind him like a serpent as he hissed out his first words of the encounter. "Did you seriously throw a rock at me?" He questioned, his black eyes glued to Charlotte from beneath the soggy mane of red hair weighing heavily off his head.
Clyde reacted to the word mutie like many other mutants did, the word was a racial slur, a hate term. Sylar didn't usually feel things like offense or disgust as normal people did, so to him the word was just a word for mutant. "That's what they call us, so I just always used the same word. I'll try to avoid it." He said rather bluntly, his lack of social skills showing in adopting a term used by the hateful masses that forced him underground.
Seemed everyone who lived at this Mansion liked it, and the world it represented. A community of mutants, people who all knew what it was like to be feared, living together like normal people do. Was it pretending to be like the normals? Or was it a true mutant life style? Sylar didn't know, this world entirely different to how he lived his own life. "With how different we all are compared to one another I'd figure they keep a list of all the different powers. I've yet to meet another like myself, it's almost like were all whole new species of people." Sylar remembered some of the biology he learned way back, how species could eventually branch out into new ones. The world of mutants certainly seemed like that sometimes, though most of them still looked normal, unlike himself. So that made him the outlier, the extreme, the freak. It was funny kind of.
"There's another community like this i've seen, over at a place called Sanctuary. I wonder if this building and that one are affiliated with each other." He questioned aloud as his thoughts focused on things less chaotic or dangerous than his life normally contained.
Everyone had secrets, and often kept them from people they should tell. Sylar's little mental issue was more dangerous than the average secret, something good to learn now rather than later when he might be more dangerous. "I guess Roach should have warned you, he's helping me control it." He mumbled as he followed behind Megan. Though what Roach was doing might amount more to embracing this inner monster, rather than leashing it properly. After all one of the first lessons he'd given Sylar was murdering a man.
The situation turned from serious to absolutely comical though as they made their way back to the counter, wading through terrified people and the remnants of a fight. A powerful scent filled the air as a chilled ovoid shape slapped right into Megan's face. She questioned what it was after it happened, but Sylar was able to figure it out a moment sooner. This tough as nails girl had just been assaulted with a mackerel. She questioned the situation and the man who had tossed the fish, but Sylar took this moment to do something he hadn't done in months, or a year even.
"Ahh...Pfft...Hahahaha!" The monstrous boy clad in black began to laugh out loud. His life was a chaotic mess rife with danger and fear, living with a girl who easily toted a gun like it was nothing, or the giant criminal bug man who was now his boss, friend, and mentor. But for Megan to take a fish to the face? This was actual laugh out loud comedy.
The uncharacteristic behavior was quickly suppressed as Sylar tried to retake a serious stance. Megan immediately requested for Sylar to grab whatever he wanted from the butcher's area, which he moved forward and grabbed a lamb body and various smaller hunks of meat, some beef steaks. The man began to demand payment, though Sylar didn't even need to try to intimidate him, his appearance alone enough to stutter the boy's speech. Sylar carried the packages out of the back and retook a spot next to Megan. "This good?" He asked, his posture again the stoic boy that had followed her into the building.
She claimed the store would be payed from Roach, again raising the question in Sylar's mind about just how powerful or influential Roach really was. Sylar let the thought linger for a moment, until he followed Megan out, hauling their supplies easily with his superhuman strength.
The girl went about preparing food humming some tune as she worked. Did she enjoy working with food that much? Sylar couldn't remember what it was like to enjoy being busy, since most of the things he did with his life now were either dangerous, or done to keep himself from starving. Leisure must be an interesting concept. The girl began to discuss her attitude after his comment.
"It's a good quality. Some spend too much time in the past, and some of us spend too much time afraid of the future." In Sylar's case, his possible future was what scared him the most. What would he become when the last bits of human vanished beneath the black? He could only remain trapped in the present, always forced closer to a future he was terrified of. Andrea however seemed very enamored with preparing food, happily chopping potatoes or messing with the cook ware. It was odd to watch, a human shape messing with various objects some of which Sylar knew he'd be eating soon. His thermal sight really did make the world appear an entirely different way than it was.
"Sadly I"m not so good at restraining myself. I'll eat meat raw sometimes even." Sylar mentioned, revealing that his dietary habits were a little out of the ordinary compared to other peoples. He of course didn't reveal that his taste in types of meats extended into dangerous areas though. The girl went on to mention a lesson learned from her mother, something Sylar didn't have any memory of. An orphan boy abandoned by two parents who didn't even want him anyways, deep down he felt a pang of jealously towards Andrea but didn't act on it. "Nice that your mother taught you to cook, a good skill to have." He said instead.
"Certainly a noisy way to do somebody in. Seems to be asking for an audience really." Sylar mused aloud, still pondering on who exactly it was the girl was spying on, and how dangerous this night could have been. Sylar always seemed to get himself into the oddest sort of scenarios whenever he met another mutant up here. It seemed his behavior elicited the word shy from her, not the term usually applied to Sylar. But at least she seemed more relaxed that she had been earlier.
He tugged on the hood a bit, pulling it snug around his head. "Sorry...I'm not so good with people." He mumbled out in response, his voice hiding the faintest bit of embarrassment. Sylar was unaware of the emotions showing on Kaitlyn's face, his vision not very good at noticing the details of people he was looking at, her face a blur of temperatures to him. "I guess that means we don't have to worry about more running tonight then." He said trying to turn the subject at hand away from himself or his behaviors.
Other mutants seemed to take great offense at words like the doctrine this injured punk was spewing at them, but Megan just rolled with the punch and turned it back at him. An amusing moment to witness, though Sylar didn't really care anymore. He had been bothered by their hate once upon a time, ashamed to be a monster with a boy's mind. But meeting people like Serena and Evelyn who looked just as normal as this thug, but didn't care about his appearance helped. They saw what was beneath the monster, and Roach was teaching him how to accept and find a middle ground with it. In the end, Sylar didn't care what this man thought, because human thoughts were wasted on him. Sylar was a mutant and a monster, and he was starting to enjoy it.
Sylar remained silent as they exchanged words, Megan driving her point home as she turned to leave him here. She mentioned the food, which caused Sylar to unconsciously lick his lips as he was still staring down at the man. Sylar spoke softly, his words more sinister than what he usually spoke. "You're right you know, you should have killed us all when you had the chance. Because now the monsters are growing stronger, and you know what we've learned? Just how weak...and tasty your kind is." Sylar turned on that, leaving the man with an ominous threat.
Sylar immediately caught up to Megan, taking a spot behind her as she walked back into the store. "There was and I'm seriously getting hungry. It's hard...to hold back when I'm hungry like this." He thought aloud, warning Megan about one of his unique traits, the Hunger that lived in his guts and drove him to such aggressive actions as she'd seen earlier. As they returned to fetch their supplies the boy's tail began to sway behind him happily, and the blood on his claws began to dry.
Sylar let his obsidian eyes gaze upon Kaitlyn for a moment, sizing her image up for a bit. It was odd, Kaitlyn was a tiny creature, her thermal not as powerful as even other women, but she played a dangerous game like this and seemed to be perfectly fine. People like her made Sylar look like a nervous wreck the way he gave in after an...episode. "Fair enough, I'd guess a spy has good nerves." He reached back to grab his hood, pulling it forward again over his eyes, hiding the feature that perhaps dehumanized him the most.
Sylar stood up as Kaitlyn seemed to figure something out about the recording. It was true, if you had someone that close at hand to kill them, it would be a bit odd to let them live a bit longer, unless it was a sadistic pleasure. Sylar himself enjoyed the feeling of being feared as he hunted, so the idea of delaying the kill wasn't outside his realm of imagination. "A dangerous or powerful man he must be then. Playing dangerously like that isn't the brightest thing to do." Sylar mumbled, knowing that when you delayed or played around, it was one more moment for the game to get turned around on you.
He wasn't sure what this meant about the situation, but it seemed to be an important thought to Kaitlyn. "Think he'll care much about some spectators to his game then?" Sylar seemed to find the same thought she was currently mulling about in her own head. Sylar could easily cover his tracks if otherwise, switching to a different sector of the sewers, or laying low for however long he felt he needed to. When you were a semi legendary urban monster that lived in the sewers, little of the surface world's problems really bothered you. Funny how things that terrified or disgusted others could bring comfort to him.
Sylar's potential as hired muscle seemed to be skyrocketing as his little adventure with Megan went on. Perhaps he would be truly destined to end up a mutant criminal or enforcer. Either way, she had requested he prevent this man from running away. Sylar let his gaze turn right and back to the left, seeing if there was something to use as a restraint. However the streets of a city rarely had something so easily manipulated to tie a man up, better to just injure him.
Turning his cold gaze back to the man currently within his grip Sylar spoke, his voice laced with dark intent. He turned and tossed the man to the sidewalk behind himself and Megan, the man hitting the pavement with a thud and the sound of his breath escaping his throat. Sylar walked up to him and reached down to grab his food, lifting it up into the air briefly. "The lady said you're staying right here, so this is going to hurt." Sylar clenched his fist, the pressure of his super human musculature exerting more force than any other hand could hope to muster. A cracking noise escaped from the man's ankle, followed by a muffled scream as the pain raced from that same foot to his brain. Sylar had cracked his ankle bones, spraining it to the point of nearly shattering. "He won't be going anywhere on this foot."
Sylar's ferocity and lack of mercy might seem surprising from his previous timid attitude. But it was simple really, Sylar was still riding on the high of a fight, the boiling blood that filled his veins when he started the hunt. The hunger turned him into a twisted version of the boy clad in black. And the more time he spent with people like Megan or Roach's...friends, the easier it would become to let this darkness take the reigns. "What now Megan?" Sylar said short and simply.
The girl went to work on her piece of technology, looking for some bit of information that might make sense of the situation. Sylar couldn't use computers, so he basically saw them as an extraneous device. Though most people seemed obsessed with the things. She played a recording of what she had been spying on, which seemed to be mostly Spanish gibberish. Then some English and a warning that a man was about to be killed. "Are sports so interesting that we let people watch them before death? You keep tabs on odd people Kaitlyn." Sylar mumbled from his spot, sports another thing he didn't really care or pay mind too. After all, there was no sport for a monster to play.
The sound of gunfire, various chaotic noises, then the shattering of glass. Kaitlyn seemed bothered by the audio, perhaps picking up on something he hadn't. After all, it was hard to understand a conversation when you spoke literally zero words in that language. "Find something that bothered you?" He questioned, his own response to hearing a man killed basically the same way he responded to anything. That man's death didn't effect Sylar, and like a gargoyle he sat, stoic and uninterested.
It wasn't that Sylar was numb to death or violence, but his sense of caring for those around him, a trait most humans had had grown dull. When you fight to survive, you stop wasting time on caring about other's ability to fight over your own. He was a timid boy, but he'd grown quite tough in just a few years.
