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.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Jul 21, 2016 15:49:58 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
Bowen
It took Serena a while to answer. She probably didn't really get what he meant. He shouldn't have said it anyway. He barely knew her, knew basically nothing about her. They were just running the same direction on the same path at the same time. In a story of any medium, this scene would get cut for its useless pointlessness.
And then when she did speak, it was like she was agreeing with that thought. Not the same. Never the same. Sometimes he almost forgot that he was the weird one. The outlier. That puzzle piece that didn't fit anywhere properly and had kind of a weird, vague picture that made you wonder if it was even supposed to be part of that puzzle to begin with, except it didn't match any other puzzles either so it was probably just a factor defect. Mis-cut and mis-printed.
Aiden's pace slowed a little bit. It would be best if she pulled ahead of him and this awkwardness just went away. He couldn't edit the pages out of his life, but he could at least change the scene to something more useful. Like...
...
The mansion had writing supplies for students. He might not be a student anymore, but he could probably still hijack some paper and a pencil. He didn't need fancy stuff to draw.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Jul 21, 2016 13:50:18 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
Bowen
Gahhh he missed running with music. It was so hard not to concentrate when all he could hear were footsteps and breathing and fabric-on-fabric!
He'd spent so much time running, or carving out paths in the snow so that he could run. It wasn't cold or anything, the problem with running in six feet of snow. It was simply being able to physically move through it. Especially wet, heavy snow. There were so many times everyone openly expected him to die of hypothermia or at least get sick from the cold, but the worst snow ever did to him was bruise.
That was more ice anyway. The main thing in common between snow and ice, though, happened to be the only part that he'd willingly, openly label good: they were both cold.
It was not cold here. It was looking like it was going to be ungodly hot once again... at least by Aiden's very biased standards.
Why had he worked so hard to come back to somewhere so warm gahhhhhhhh
Because warm or not, this was where the people who cared about him were. There wasn't exactly an excess of those. Plus he had a job to do. He'd both agreed and decided to do that job, so he'd better get back into it.
"Have you ever been somewhere where there wasn't anything?" Nothing but pain. He should at least learn how that had happened so that he could avoid it ever happening again.
It was like a literal version of how the world had felt after Conri died. Empty, so empty that it wasn't even dark. The only real thing was the pain.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Jul 21, 2016 10:29:22 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
Bowen
"My choice, my-" stretched out yawn, and a few moments to get his jaw back into place after it cracked on both sides "my risk. If you wanted to smack some of them a bit, though, I wouldn't argue too much." Team-building did not mean constant socializing and he didn't want it to now any more than he had then.
Coffee? He supposed, although he was kind of meh on the taste. It was usually hot, though, and it was way too warm out for him to tolerate more heat. It was almost too warm out to sleep easily, but then he was so, so tired...
He was tucked into the join of back and arm before Cafas returned, already well into the realm of sleep, but the much heavier x-man's footsteps roused him. He pushed himself a little more upright and rubbed a palm across his face. Hadn't Cafas just stepped out? He was back already? Or he'd fallen asleep. That would explain it. Time hung in the air when he was asleep, almost a reverse of the suspension that haunted him. Flying by entirely removed, as compared to floating out of reach and only ever taunting him.
Aiden nearly almost smiled a tiny, tiny bit when Cafas passed him the 'coffee.' The ice cream, leeching tendrils of white into the pale coffee underneath, chased away the shadow of memories that would be better off on fire than rolling around in his head, and that was just from looking at it, and the smooth not-hot feel of the container against his palms.
He started with the straw, though, because if Cafas was going to catch him up on stuff that had happened now he needed to be at least slightly more awake than he was. It wasn't like there wasn't space on the awake-scale for improvement. He was kind of hovering around the not-awake end.
"City seems kind of freaked out," he said, half questioningly, through another yawn.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Jul 16, 2016 12:14:58 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
Bowen
Aiden continued to utterly fail to even attempt to make eye contact. Serena didn't try to talk or nag or pry, though, and that was good. He could appreciate that. Being near people who didn't try to rip him open was okay. It wasn't the same as being alone, but it definitely wasn't like being tossed around by a staring, jeering crowd.
It was...
He wasn't sure he'd call it nice, but there was a sort of reassuring calmness to it. Just being with someone, without all the negative connotations and associations of being with people. It had mostly been Conri who'd pulled that off, and Conri had been special. Aiden had since come across other people he could tolerate, or appreciate in other ways, but while he had nothing but respect and appreciation for Cafas it wasn't exactly calm time.
He thought a lot more when he ran without music, he'd found. He was closer to being able to getting music back, but not yet. So he thought, and then thought about thinking.
"Something happened while I was on a training mission with the west coast branch," he eventually said. When he did say it, it was quiet but not hesitant. He'd had a lot of time to think about this. "My mutation was involved somehow but..." he shook his head. "And then I couldn't even get word back here. I couldn't do anything until spring." And spring was late-coming there, so far north and so deep in the mountains.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Jul 15, 2016 2:33:53 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
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Aiden wobbled a little when Cafas let him go, exhaustion teaming up with lightheadedness to try to knock him over. He caught himself, but now he really wanted to go to sleep. Maybe for a week straight. Without putting himself in a coma. He'd had enough of that.
Cafas deserved an explanation, though. Of all people currently alive, really, Cafas did the most. It was just taking a minute to resupply on air. All the rehearsals he'd laboriously gone through while travelling seemed useless now. None of the words seemed to fit, nothing was right.
Of course, that was probably just that he never seemed to be sure what words were right, especially when people were involved. "I think I thought I was dead for a while," he finally said. Couldn't they at least go somewhere he could sit down? He might run the risk of falling asleep on whatever piece of furniture he found, but it was a whole lot more attractive than standing around here for however long this took.
Over there. Cafas would undoubtedly follow if he moved. Even Aiden could see that in this situation, and so he turned to head to the living room. Cafas'd get a better explanation if Aiden didn't have to focus on staying upright anyway. Win win.
"I... don't know what happened, really. But eventually I was... I dunno. I was me again but everyone had left. The only people around were from a ranch. They found me pretty much by chance, but they didn't have phones or internet or anything, and fall was getting on so they couldn't go to town until spring so I-"
He bit back the tumbling words and fell more than eased into a padded chair. Scratch a bed, he'd take this if he thought no one would come bother him. Kids would, though. In a few more minutes, that might well not matter. "I would have called if I could've. I wished so many times I could've." Especially when he remembered that emptiness, that flecked searing pain, and woke up in a cheap motel with his throat raw from screaming just to try to make sound, and people pounded on the door to shut him up.
"I didn't ask for any of it," he said quietly and so, so wearily.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Jul 15, 2016 1:52:56 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
Bowen
He almost thought he heard someone, heard his name, but the almost thought fluttered away before it could be almost processed. Almost didn't get him horizontal on something soft and familiar. Cold, soft, and familiar would be best, but at this point he'd just take not unusually warm by everyone else's standards.
He almost almost thought he heard footsteps, but while this thought made it closer to processing, it instead ran out of time. Massive arms around him, familiar but not quite the same, and then crushing.
Also way too warm, but breathing came first except it wasn't, he couldn't force his ribs apart enough to get anything in or even out. He also couldn't budge those arms with his own, and his feet were off the ground, but then they were down again before he could get a foot up to push back. It shifted Cafas' arms a little bit, though, and he dragged in a breath.
"Air," he wheezed, and swallowed a bit more air. "And heat," he added once the pain-fire in his chest subsided a little. A little more oxygen and coolness and he could deal with the next in line of issues.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Jul 14, 2016 21:45:09 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
Bowen
The more he looked at her (not that he really looked at her so much as in her direction, especially unable to meet her eyes even if he could at least go around without sunglasses now) the more vaguely almost familiar she seemed. Especially with her accent. Accents and languages did tend to hold more impact for him.
Still, he couldn't name anything he'd done with her, or if he'd actually spent any time talking to her. A classmate, maybe? One of the people who was around enough to make a subtle impact without the enormous splash of someone like Cafas?
Aiden also decided he liked her more when she offered not-talking, and he nodded. He tried not to be relieved about not being prodded and nagged into pretending to chatter, but it still swirled up his spine like the scattered snowflakes that drifted into existence as he fluidly began moving again. That was something Cafas had given him: acceptance of his mutation, or at least what he truly knew of it, and then the habit of moving smoothly and gracefully whenever he was active. It wasn't flaunting his power, just building the subconscious habit so that it would be closer to hand if trouble arose.
"Running's been one of the only things I could do properly," he said after a while. If he told a handful of people the gist of what had happened, he'd get fewer questions. It would be less interesting, and he'd be left alone. "I'm a lot more used to running alone."
Posted by Aiden Killian on Jul 14, 2016 21:21:30 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
Bowen
She seemed surprised that he didn't seem to remember her. So they had met before? Aiden racked his brain, but in all honesty most of his previous time here had been tangled up in denial and heartbreak and social incompetence. Some of the stress was going, but he still rated his social skills at maybe a one. If the scale was at least a hundred. Probably more, but rounding was probably okay.
And it made sense that word was getting around that he was back. It brought back the weight of everything he had to do, to play catch-up with. Couldn't he put off sensible for a while longer? He just wanted to be home for a while, and be able to just be.
"Last night," he confirmed, quiet as he always was. Was... was he supposed to say anything else? Was she expecting anything else?
Hopefully she'd ask. Or just keep running. It would be nice and calm if she kept running.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Jul 14, 2016 20:57:01 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
Bowen
Sleep did amazing things, especially when it was in the building that had proven itself to be more of a home than his parents' house had become. The only part of his childhood home that had truly been home, he had come to realize, had been his brother, but Conri was dead. It still hurt, but he could at least think the phrase without crumpling in on himself.
Sure, he had slept in a guest room last night, but still. It was the closest he had been to home in such an incredibly long time.
He'd woken early, body still used to farm hours, and had slipped out to run rather than wander the still-sleeping building in lost idleness. There was a ton of things he had to do, most of which he was probably going to hate doing, but it could wait. It was still so early. He'd just run for a while.
Running had helped him more than just about anything else after he'd woken up to find himself as... himself, in himself, in the way he knew himself to be. He hadn't fought nightmares all night but he still enjoyed the run. His body needed it too, both after the forced inactivity of traveling and before he slipped back into the chaos of being an X.
Whatever was going on now. The city was tense.
As he jogged, he began to see people around. Other early morning people, mostly out for a bit of exercise. He couldn't place any of the faces. They didn't seem to place him either, so there was the perfect level of socializing: a brief nod and nothing else.
Then someone called his name, and he stopped hard. She was... maybe kind of a little bit familiar? He rubbed a bit of sweat from his forehead as the last few snowflakes of his jogging settled to the ground and melted. "Hello?"
Posted by Aiden Killian on Jul 14, 2016 20:13:04 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
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Aiden Killian had been missing the X-Jet pretty much ever since he began the longest journey of his life. It had only taken a handful of hours, if that, to travel. To return? Cars, buses, airplanes, more airplanes, trains, more buses.
And now, feet. For all of his relative inactivity, he was exhausted. He knew why, at least. Planes and buses and trains all had lots of people, and with so much travel there were strangers wanting to chat just about every day. Aiden wouldn't have been comfortable with that before he'd spent a year or more on the side of a mountain, with a handful of ranch hands the most company available. Plus it was summer now. Heat was... Heat was not his friend.
He accepted the silver lining. He carried next to nothing with him, just a last few coins and a small bag so cheap it was already splitting and threatening to spill out the handful of clothes he had collected on the trip. He wasn't hauling much weight, and even now the bag was light on his shoulder.
He knew this road. He knew how the shadows fell along it at this time of late afternoon. The lines had been repainted at some point, but not recently. Had he been away so long? Some of the trees seemed larger, only one or two were missing. A few new shrubs and flowers. Different cars, he suspected. Those were harder to determine. They moved all the time, always changed.
The mansion looked much the same. The gate seemed a little worse for wear, some recent repairs showing in the last of the vivid sunlight, but the building itself didn't look like it had any major fires or explosions of late. If it had been repaired, it had been done very well.
Somehow, his gate code still worked, and he slipped in unchallenged. Young people out on the grounds, most drifting inside as the insects began to gather and the lowering sun gave less and less warmth. They bothered him as little as they had on the ranch. Maybe he just smelled too much like snow for them or something. Had they ever harassed him much? He couldn't remember.
The door felt so familiar under his hand. As if he had never left, had never been stranded. What did everyone think? They probably thought he was dead. He'd thought he was dead, until he woke up and he was... he was him and not everything-nothing, not just pain and presence and movement, a headache without a head tied to stabbing agony everywhere and nowhere but mostly nowhere.
Aiden could feel his expression darkening, the mood that had tried to revive from the clawing negativity of crowded travel sinking back down and down and down. Sleep. Sleep in a familiar space, even if it might not feel familiar anymore, sleep in a space that wasn't empty of light and sound and existence. A space that existed even when his eyes were closed. It took existence to counter absence, he'd found. Existence was armour against that emptiness.
He pushed the door open and let himself inside.
Home.
And so, Aiden Killian, x-trainee, dragged his exhausted, miserable self back into the school that had sheltered and educated and encouraged and saved him, mismatched eyes downcast and stormy, and plodded towards the residential wing in the vague exhausted-logic hope that his room still existed.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Mar 21, 2014 10:49:17 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
Bowen
The spoon was gone.
In its place was a chocolatey girl.
What. The. Wait, he licked her? So she was the spoon so she was a mutant and that was significantly less weird. Wait - the double spoons? Had one of them been a real spoon, and one of them the girl? Well, that was bad luck all around.
Something fell over. Aiden twisted around; apparently Persi was panicking and running away. Through a chair. "...Psycho?" he repeated hesitantly, turning back to look at the girl again. She didn't seem very psycho even though he had just -
...he had seriously licked her.
He sidled around the girl to the sink and splashed some water in his mouth. "Sorry!" he said hastily. "I thought - I mean, you were a spoon, so- " Definitely on the awkward side of things.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Mar 19, 2014 13:20:10 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
Bowen
He tried to point out to himself that the lack of vibration had continued. The sky did seem the proper distance away now, although he didn't trust someone as issue-ridden as CS not to have something to do with that. Okay. He gradually relaxed a little bit more. He could breathe. He could listen to something outside his head. Crazy people who came up with whatever this thing was were talking. Okay.
Survive. He caught that word. That was not a good sign. Specifying survival meant that a failure to survive was a viable, reasonably likely possibility. Something about legal something. Probably waivers that HE HADN'T SIGNED or that crazy people like CS didn't care about liability.
DOOR DOOR DOOR FREEDOM DOOR
Aiden didn't flail or run or act particularly panicky, but he did get out of his freaky airplane seat, grab a bag (his, fortunately), give Persi a particular get your ass out of here because I'm not staying on this messed-up horrible contraption and I don't want to be alone with these people stare.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Mar 19, 2014 10:14:58 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
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Person answering the door don't run don't run that was not a parent. Hm. Not Persi, similar to Persi. Brother? Aiden's twitch was mostly internal. Oh good Kaitlyn was talking he could let her talk okay. This was a good time to have practice in looking outwardly not-panicky. Friends was a weird word but some people liked to call people friends.
He briefly wondered if this guy would realize what time of night it was and whether or not he'd think it was odd. Oh! They could be out wandering the city for the holiday and had a bunch of people to get to, and Persi was just low on the list. Right. That made sense. City people wandered around the city, didn't they? He wasn't a city person so he wasn't sure, but he thought so. He'd spent enough time around social more-city-ish people. Not willingly, but he had. He nodded in agreement.
"Is he in?" he asked quietly. He couldn't see into the apartment from where he stood and he didn't fidget trying.
Posted by Aiden Killian on Mar 17, 2014 13:20:53 GMT -6
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Sept 12, 2017 15:21:55 GMT -6
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"Reputation makes the world go around sometimes," Aiden said shortly. He had to admit that Persi had a few points, though. He was quite familiar with the forest, and had seen the maze if not entered it. He hadn't noticed a lot of floor-changing except when someone broke or burned something. ...He definitely had a point about the weird powers, although some of the ones he'd come across would be weird even for Harry Potter.
"The mirror thing was probably Mirror," he said distractedly. Oh hey, spoon. Spoon wasn't needed anymore. He accepted it and wandered over to the sink, giving it a good lick on the way.