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.
(And now H1N1 has been confirmed on my campus. here's hoping I don't get sick again >.<)
There was slightly less restless squabbling than a standard flock of crows might raise, crowding together in trees, but then they didn't need sound to communicate; they were all in each other's heads already.
But still alternately too close physically or too far, depending on how the wind blew and the tree shifted and the sun fell upon them. Black was a goo, warm colour, but it still wasn't that warm out. It was hardly summer. Summer would have green and rain and that particular strength to the sun, and picnics and easy side jobs interesting people willing to hang out on weekends. No one really wanted to do anything in the winter, especially here. Although that might be because he didn't really know a lot of people here, and wasn't as close to them as he had been to others.
Crumb alert.
Several dozen heads snapped towards the ground. Eh, not much. That kid again. Hm. He seemed to be looking around for something. He should probably clean up that mess before whoever he was looking for showed up. The first of his feet started hitting the ground even as he finished agreeing about that, finally quick enough to snap up a few crumbs. Hah!
(Sorry for the slow and less than perfect reply; I'm fighting off respiratory and stomach flus >.>)
It was a nice day. Crow liked being out and about on good days.
Oh hey, bread! Half a dozen crows raced for the prize, though he wasn't starving. He was all too slow, though, and was forced to land in a disgruntled pile while some silly pigeon, previously giant and weirdly coloured (which, of course, Crow thought nothing of, because really, there were plenty of stranger things around this odd southern country) flew off.
He sighed a couple times and hopped back into the trees. Couldn't catch a break when he had a full belly any better than when he was starving. There had to be something wrong about that. You know, really wrong. Big-scale wrong. Maybe he'd offended karma at some point?
... no, getting two rounds from a shotgun at pretty close range probably countered any bad karma he had.
"It is." Crow polished off his bit of seed and tucked his hands back into his pockets before the still-cool air could worm its way into his flesh. "There's a couple dozen of us. Counting is too much effort." He tried not to stare at Gryph's teeth or flicking tail. Gryph. Gryphon? Bird+cat. Double dose of predator. Right. Plenty of respect on Crow's part! Hopefully it would resonate with, you know, the mutant running the double dose.
Whooo! He still had what it would take to pass a high school world geography test! Possibly. He could get at least one question. If one of the question happened to be "where is Belfast?" "We know what you mean. It is very green where we are from. Well, very grey, but from weather rather than pollution and steel." He grinned. "How familiar are you with North America? We're from the southwesternmost province in Canada, British Columbia, but from as far north on the coast as you can get before you end up in Alaska. Lots of snow, lots of rain, not too much sun but when it does show it is simply glorious. And all the trees and mountains and ocean you could ever want." Or be deprived of, but there wasn't enough left there now for the landscape to hold Crow. Nothing but ashes and gravestones!
"Eh, we're from farther north. Had reliable shelter, though, unlike when we first got here." The weather was what the weather was; in the grand scheme of things, since it hadn't proven lethal, it was a relatively minor issue.
Crow snorted as Gryph laughed. "Do we sound like we're from a city with people from all over?" he joked. "Belfast. Northern Ireland?" he asked, trying to remember his world geography material. The usefulness of a dogwood! Figuring out what country (or whatever northern Ireland was currently classed as; Crow wasn't confident enough to venture a guess that might get a literal piece taken out of him) random mutants hailed from!
His snort relaxed into a full chuckle. "Oh, these aren't tattoos. Each of these is one of us." The markings on his face shifted slightly, the edges almost seeming to pull away for a moment before settling back down. It was too cold to split up entirely, and the conversation was pleasant enough for everyone to be agreeable about continuing it. "We are Crow because we are crows. It's too cold to show off, though." He winked. "It's warmer together."
Oh, food! Gryph was so friendly. It was too bad Crow didn't have anything he could offer back; he had only his clothing, which would be too big for the kid anyway, and his necklace, which was far too personal. He accepted some politely, and tossed a bit back. Mmm, not bad.
Ah, a feathered fellow with similar views. Crow gave the kid some space to land, marvelling at how easily he moved through the air. And at how well his clothing worked. He'd have to try to pry the secrets from him. Politely, of course. Crow was no monster!
"We haven't been around long; ended up in this town just in time for winter." He fluffed the back of his hair; he still wasn't convinced it had been the best place to stop, but he was hungry and tired and dirty. Ah, well. The longest night had passed, and the weather would soon begin to improve for the long term. "You from here?" He spoke idly, cheerily, not concerned about how the kid answered or even if he did.
"Crow! Not so creative, but a friend thought it fit some time back and it does. How about you?" His mood did still for a brief moment at the sight of the kid's teeth, but it was only momentary. Predatory mutants were still mutants, and that allegiance came first. Plus this was a kid. It was much nicer to simply converse and be friendly.
Oh, Crow was jealous! He grinned. "If we were able to lift anyone, it wouldn't be particularly sneaky," he said drily. "And we admit it wouldn't be nice to drop most people." Sure, some could earn a less than accidental drop, but the average person certainly didn't, and there were easier ways to take out a bad person than dragging them into the sky for a long drop and a sudden stop. "Sounds like your trick is much nicer," he said cheerily, and eyed up the nearest stranger.
He angled his head. "Birds are what birds are," he said neutrally, hardly an advocate for birds in general. He did kind of enjoy terrorizing magpies, after all. Clarification. He loved terrorizing them. "Crows are pretty laid-back, though. Frequently lazy, not too territorial, and happy to warn before taking drastic measures." He grinned briefly. "We aren't good at agreeing, though. Social doesn't always mean agreeable."
Crow's first warning was the screech. Avian, a little more predatory than the jumpier birds preferred, but a little off. Crow's head snapped up and he caught sight of...
Someone flying on feathered wings. Sweet and really? Crow admitted that he felt a tinge of jealousy at being able to fly reliably (as opposed to crash into the first object not soft enough to not injure himself on) in such a form, but he wasn't hard-hearted enough to spurn a welcome meeting with someone of similar form. Keeping himself facing the stranger, he realized that the lighter-feathered flier had significantly larger wings than his own, both in span and in proportion. 'Kid' might be more apt than merely 'stranger,' come to think of it.
Watching the kid fly, Crow did his best to pay attention to the details and mechanics. How his wings moved, when he moved them and how much. Crow figured that a large part of his problem was the number of minds involved; when each flew for itself, it was easy, but trying to get everyone to agree and work together with that degree of synchronicity? Yikes.
Crow raised a hand in greeting as the kid slowed before him. "Nice weather for the season," he said welcomingly.
Hm. That spot there might be decent for fish. Crow leaned forward a bit, the tips of his wings flicking to keep his balance. Hmm. Hmmmm...
Eh. It wasn't the sort of fishing river he was used to at all - even Prince George had better water, and PG's water was downright nasty most of the time. NYC's drinking water wasn't too bad - for all he knew, the city had hired a unicorn mutant to purify it all or something - but the wild water was another story. Crow wasn't too concerned about the quality of the fish the river before him might hold, though. Crows were scavengers, devourers of carrion. If roadkill of dubious age didn't upset his stomach, why would a perfectly fresh fish of dubious pollution?
He'd keep that spot in mind. Leaning back for a moment, he gave his wings a lazy flap and rolled his shoulders. He was warm enough, with warm pants and his current best-modified jacket, and the sun was very pleasant, but staying still for too long still threatened to stiffen his previously cold-abused joints.
New York, New York. A much nicer apple to hang around when one's bellies were filled and one didn't have to fluff up every single feather on every single bird just to keep from freezing them off.
Of course, it was colder now, but Crow didn't have to go out until the sun was comfortable and had made the air a bit more pleasant. Well, he didn't have to go out at all; his current home cared for all such things. He wasn't that lazy, though, even if his current state of (un)employment might be interpreted that way. Hey, he was a visible mutant without a whole lot of special skills. C'est la vie.
Unemployment did leave some nice time for sightseeing, though. There was no denying that. Of course, Crow wasn't currently sightseeing, not per se. He wasn't marvelling at one of NYC's many, many named places. Or perhaps this was a named place, but it was not one of the Places that tried to draw in all the tourists and newbies. Some places were quieter...
On second thought, probably not. He probably wasn't supposed to have climbed that rusty old fire escape, but he thought the old building he happened to be on might have a nice view. He was right; it wasn't bad. He might even be able to work out what stretch of the river might be accessible for fishing. He stretched his wings to bask in the winter sun while he leaned against the ancient railing, and found himself content.
Mmmmmmmmmm bloodlust. It was absolutely delightful, especially compounded through as many minds as composed Crow. He wasn't the top of the food chain, though. The Predator certainly was, but scavengers were assistants, not lords. His lord of the moment, though, called him to give battle.
If ravens could, crows could. He swirled above Sylar's head, cawing his agreement from dozens of enthusiastic beaks before he began to pour down upon the defenceless humans. Blood coated his tongues and tantalized his throats, danced before his eyes and flecked his feathers. His talons left streaks and drops of blood as he scored and scratched and clawed any bared flesh any of his many eyes could spot, curving and darting to seize upon near-hidden skin with an unnatural perception. With so many eyes in the sky, nothing went unobserved.
Such as the stranger emerging confidently from the shattered ruins of a building. Too confidently to be one of the prey-things at the Predator's mercy. He passed by the potential flockmate's head with two synchronized birds, cawing the query before rejoining the swirling, savaging murder. Come play~
Crow grinned. It was so, so, so nice to chat with someone who had a similar view of the world. Not necessarily opinions or interpretation, but not the limited sight of people who were only themselves and nothing more. Not that he looked down on them! No, not in the slightest! It was just nice to not have to constantly try and see things from a smaller perspective.
He nodded. "The currents along the coast travel south, so it's arctic rather than tropical water passing by. Fends off the hurricanes, at least. Can you imagine all the natural disasters we'd get otherwise? Earthquakes, tsunamis, avalanches, and hurricanes? At least the mountains take out any real chance of tornadoes." For once, Crow wasn't merely referring to himself when using the plural.
Crow smiled as disarmingly as he could at the nervous stranger. It may not have been as effective as intended, given just how obviously a mutant he happened to be (or seriously in love with black and white, if his wings were ignored for a moment), but it was an honest, welcoming smile. The smile of someone who didn't react to an uncomfortable, prejudiced stranger with any negative emotions whatsoever - though if the man chose to do more than leave, in the vein of his discomfort, Crow would be just as happy to give him a hand over the railing.
Crow blinked. How many? That was an odd question. "Couple dozen. It's hard to do a headcount when everyone is 'one.'" He shrugged and smiled again. "Not enough to blacken the sky with furious wingbeats or to lift a person, unfortunately. That could be fun." Probably not the best choice of words to reassure the human. Oh well.
Oh! Look at all the snakes! Crow gave them a little wave once everyone settled back to the floor. That was an instance where his wings were useful, and they settled back to his back after their brief, effective fluttering. "Well, why not tell more people? Everyone loves happy people, and engagements and weddings are a definite mark of happy!"
He laughed aloud again, without restraint, at the imitated angry-face. "Yes, we do imagine that should do the trick on anyone with the slightest bit of heart. Just make sure you keep him in line, arright?"
Ooooh food. So many options! Opinions and decisions fluttered through his minds and face like so many shed feathers under a roost-tree on a windy day, and then he finally managed to come to some consensus and rambled his cheerful order. And then turned to see some big guy pouncing on Andrea and mashing his face into hers.
...
Oh, they knew each other. Cool! He stretched a wing in front of him to straighten a few crooked feathers while they chatted. Oh, that was his name! Probably. Some people just talked about crows, since they were wonderfully ubiquitous unless there were magpies around (and then they should be ubiquitous, and drive out the silly cowfeatherthings), but he rather thought that Andrea was referring to him in this instance. It would be logical, yes? So he waved to the guy. Oh! Food-place owner! Nice.
"Face, arms, everywhere. Our wings aren't marked - that would sure look weird! - but we're there too." Crow flicked a shoulder casually. It was very nice when people caught on to his system quickly. If they did, he didn't have to work to explain things in a way they could understand without breaking their minds too much. Sometimes messing with people was fun, though. Only a little. He didn't want to actually be mean to most people, after all.
Crow grinned freely. "Don't you get so much better a perspective when you aren't all crammed into one point?" he asked cheerily, entirely heedless of whether or not he might be crossing any boundaries. She was nice, she had a clue, surely she wouldn't mind some congenial verbal proximity. Her own line of questioning confirmed his subconscious musings.
"Quite a ways north and a loooong ways west. We started out off the coast, actually, but haven't been near our home ocean in a long time. Life moves onwards and all that. Not much point in wishing for the past to come back or anything, and if it did it would undoubtedly come with all the unpleasantries that clung to it for the first go-around!" Private and secretive Crow was not. He was probably slightly more tactful than secretive, but even that might be debatable at times, since if he decided (and remembered) to keep something quiet he could. Probably.
((Sorry for the wait. I've kind of been a bit out of things for a while >.>))
This was fun and so very, very satisfied. The chaos, the carnage, the sheer majesty of the Predator so truly in his own.
Even if the Predator's logic was a little bit of a spoilsport. The birds nearest to Sylar sighed, but one peeled off to go see if there was anything recognizable as reporting to Roach within range. Poor bird had to go and be responsible. Such a pity.
But everyone else got to have fun! Except for the one that just got a hand in the face. Idiot wasn't paying attention and no one else happened to be looking in that direction at that moment. No more harm than perhaps a bruised nare, though, so after suffering a moment's derisive cawing that bird sprang back into the air and rejoined the fray.
