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.
Garrett could see with the release of the streams of water that he had hit his mark. She was furious. He knew there would finally be retaliation and he knew it would hurt. It didn't keep the snarky grin off his face. Not by a long shot. her previous recoiling was only that of a snake, preparing to strike. He could see her telegraphing the punch that was coming and, unfortunately, he had to take it. Didn't step into it, as that would just be too obvious, so he vaguely tried dodging, though he was moving in anticipation of a mere fist, not one covered in spiky bone. It caught him hard in the cheek, the skin opening at the jagged abrasion.
It hurt. His eyes watered and the tearing sting ran over his face. But then it didn't. The nerves simply quieted down, the pain receding like an ocean tide. the message had been delivered, boys. In the movement of his body in response to the punch, Garrett's hand swung out and caught Isabel by the wrist. As her hand retracted, he was gripping her wrist firmly, pretending to shake off the blow. " Good punch." A trickle opf blood was streaming over his jaw already, his head still lowered as his nervous system got to work.
The moment they were skin to skin, light began to trace its familiar patterns along her wrist and hand, moving with a conscious intent up her forearm and bicep. By the time he could turn to look at her, the flood of neural symbiosis was working its way across her chest and up her neck. He knew that for things to go smoothly, he could not let go of her wrist. This also meant that soon he would get pain that had made the punch seem like angel feathers. He also knew that he could not numb it.
Nervous tension. It meant so much more than the stock reference when it came to one like Garrett. Possibly the only one. While his gifts aided him in most confrontations, on a day to day basis, it could really be a drag to be anywhere fun. And for a twenty four year old, that basically killed most leisurely pursuits in Manhattan. He had been to the clubs and ...no. The lights, loud music, throngs of people and their bustling, chemically altered nervous systems was a bit too much. Simply because he wasn't using his gift didn't mean that his highly refined nervous system wasn't streaming data in at all times.
So the Art Fair was becoming a slight headache. Taking in each performer would have been fine, but the cacophony of color, sound and movement was taxing him slightly. He would need a nice nap in a black room after this. Looking down at the clipboard, inverted as it faced possible signers, Garrett thought the turnout was fair, especially considering the venue. He casually looked at his wristwatch. He'd give it another hour and then pack his bags for Powernapville.
A new burst of sound and motion came to a general careening halt before him as a guy and girl, behaving as partners, slowed to a stop before him. The girl was pretty, fresh with a sheen of something. Innocence or glitter. The boy, dark and brooding. Maybe he didn't want to be at the fair. Or with her. The infectious smile and exuberance of the little lady made that a quandary. nevertheless, it was time to do his thing. He chose to speak to the girl since Glumbutt seemed unapproachable. " Hello there. Having a good day? Thanks for stopping by." Rising from his seat, his hand extended out. " Garrett Wills. You guys mutants?"
Garrett hated mimes. He wasn't sure why. There were no mime related traumas in his past and he was fairly confident that they were artists and had some sort of skill, but whenever they came near him, he started to twitch a bit. Now here was one, in the mime uniform of black and white, doing that walking against the wind routine. Was there nothing new for them to do? The guy was blocking the view of his table, so he looked at him sternly, only producing an exaggerated frown from the 'artist'. " Yeah, walking against the wind. Do you know 'Unconscious on the Ground'? You might. Shoo." The mime acted as if an invisible crook grabbed his neck and pulled him away. Whatever did the trick.
Once he had received a go ahead from Lori on the Sanctuary, Garrett took some initiative and contacted various local events to see if he could set up his MORA booth there. Visibility was key, as well as the possible recruitment of mutants to the hallowed halls of the Sanctuary. With RUPERT seemingly under the radar, he decided to keep his non profit in operation and use it as it was to promote mutant brotherhood. He still had a heart, you see. He was now just certain that it was a mutant heart and someone had to step up to work with his people. Why not him?
While the Arts Fair wasn't a prime target, there was always the possibility of mutants coming for enjoyment or to blend in with others who didn't necessarily fit in. His eyes instinctively flashed at the harassing mime on that note. The table was of the folding variety, with brochures for Faust Pharmaceuticals, Full Circle Bookstore, The Iris Clinic, and a sign up sheet with contact information. In khakis and a white polo, he sat beneath a large red banner held by two poles which read
Of course there was nothing wrong with her attitude. He could count all the times she had made a difference in the lives of others. All he could think of was the number of fatherless police families that mourned in her wake. Garrett was no cop lover, but really, if she couldn't see that all she did was fluff her own ego, it was too big to contend with anyway. "Don't you dare blame me for human prejudice. That prejudice was around way longer than I've been. Some people may be able to grin and bear it, or try to pretend that it doesn't exist, but I don't plan on doing the same. They wanna hate me? Fine. I can and will give them a reason to."
She was getting pissed off. So was Garrett. " Just shut the f**k up. Who wouldn't hate you? All you do is piss and moan about humans anyway. There are probably rats in this building who have gone outside more than you. The only time you ever leave this place is to go collect police badges. Otherwise you just roam the halls stomping your little feet and huffing. Huff again." He couldn't figure out why he had bothered talking to her anyway. Violence was inevitable with this ridiculous oaf so if that is what she wanted, that is what she would get. Garrett was already tuning out her next tirade, which only further cemented his opinions about her.
He could see her skin shifting, as if something were moving under her skin. Which of course it was. While the sensation of rage was fulfilling, he couldn't let it cloud his amplified vision. One would really have to be mentally deficient to know what Isabel could do and approach her. She was within his range as he was no doubt in hers. He was ready for it. His hand slipped into his pocket and produced a small orange plastic pistol. He pointed at her. " I'm not going anywhere. You want me out? DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!" With that, he pulled the little trigger several times, water zipping out in little streams toward her bow and face.
If Isabel thought she was annoyed, Garrett was more so. It was this very, nevermind. "It is this very attitude of yours that I want to speak to you about, Isabel." He stood his ground, his neural patterns shifting and changing like a Rorshach ink blot. He would be more than fine simply discussing things, but as he tried to convey his point, there was a fine chance that she might go ballistic and try to stab him. " My sorry ass is standing right here and yours is listening."
Doing this in the foyer was beyond inane, but he could see she was wearing blood tinted glasses and there was little point in not expecting a violent rebuttal. Resisting her was futile. " I went to the NYPD division of Mutant Related Crimes. Most of the most wanted are usually found within these walls.' He shifted to the right a tad, perhpas moving in a few more inches." While this may give you some sort of ego satisfaction, all you are doing is bringing the rest of us down. And I do mean us. Not just the residents nor the Orderlings, but us, Isabel. ." His palm pressed against his chest, extending out toward her. "Mutantkind."
His arms returned behind him. He had no fear of the situation. He was moving with it. " I understand why you feel betrayed. I destroyed Haywire. If I had the chance, I would do it again. The reason being, the backlash of its use would mean full on war between our own species and that of humanity. Again, I know you wish for such a confrontation. I assure you, either our numbers would not be enough or they would escape to their bunkers and use nuclear weapons. We as a people are in no shape to take on all of humanity. Yet. Blatant violence toward humans is a dying trend. So you had better take it down a peg." His arms opened by his sides, his nerves rustling like summer wind through barley.
Telepathy had to be the best gift one could recive. Pity he didn't have it, as the detective before him was one of those Mickey Spillane types, no doubt. Probably some kind of easy jazz and a running monologue going on in his head. A raised eyebrow in response to his matter-of-fact stance. Just a stance, but seemingly effective. A shrug to tie it up, corresponding with more pen clicking.
“Mr. Wills, as I said, if you have a problem with the way this department runs it affairs, then by all means, write the mayor, write your congressman, file a complaint. "
Standard red tape spew, mixed with a dash of personal annoyance. Tasted like sunshine and snow cream.
"My job is to keep people, both mutant and human, safe. And that’s exactly what I intend to do, even if that means fighting my own kind."
..fighting my own kind.[/i]"
That solved that little mystery, Detective. Also put a spin on things. Good or bad remained to be seen, but spinning all the way.
"Other than that, there is little I can say that will appease you.”
Garrett smiled and rose from the seat. " I don't know about that, but no reason to wax semantic. I think we know where we stand. " He stood behind the chair, pushing it up to the desk, his fingers drumming quietly across its back. " I'm sure we will see each other again. Perhaps next time we will both be wearing suits. The black tie type, of course. Don't be a stranger." Cryptic with a side dipping sauce of minor threat. A good appetizer. Garrett would scarf it down anyday.
He could see beyond the obvious pouting pose the murderess was known for. It made one expect a pouty lip to appear, maybe some Nellie Olsenesque foot stomping and tantrum throwing. The brief moment that would have allowed peaceful discourse came and went. She perhaps thought of Lori's authority briefly, but snapped back into her own defiance. Par for the course with this one. "I don't care who you've talked to. I don't like you and I don't want you here. You can go ahead and curl back up in whatever hole you crawled out of."
Well, she certainly wasn't going to enjoy what he had to say beyond Hello and I'm back. It had to be done though. This had to be done. But not here in the foyer. " Well, it is an inevitability, Isabel. We need to get some things straightened out. Not here, though. Surely you can agree that new arrivals need not see us hashing out our differences all over the carpet. Let's move this elsewhere. Perhaps the gymnasium or the parking lot out back. We are going to talk, however."
Stepping laterally to her position toward Lisa's borderline OCD arrangements on her desk, he cleanly pulled a pair of scissors from a cornucopia of items standing vertically in one of those plastic tubes that are commonplace with bureaucracy. Garrett imagined her eyes would light up at the thought of his being brash and stupid, but her logic would probably kick in right after. Removing the long sleeve shirt he was wearing, revealing his bare shoulders and arms in the wifebeater, he deftly took to cutting the shirt into strips. As he waited for her next spiteful and bratty response, he folded the strips, tucked them in his pocket and replaced the scissors, smiling to Lisa. " So where to?"
"We'll see about other work as it crops up. Lisa can fill you in and get you settled. Don't worry, you should have plenty to do." Boy, did she say a mouthful there. He had no doubt that with time and actions, he would be back in the upper echelons. There were a slim handful of mutants who believed as he did that mutants were a separate species, an evolution from the human race. Sure, the literature made it seem as if all were on board, but more times than not, the Sanctuary, and even the Order, merely contained criminals who happened to be mutants. They were mercenary. He was talking to one of the latters.
His agenda, and of course there was one, contained global ramifications for the furthering of mutant rights and issues. A step fprward into legacy began with the actions of today. The future was now. While he had no intention of leaving the Sanctuary and its counterpart, he surely had greater aims than thuggery and city domination. The shining day would come when mutants took their proper place on the planet. He would see to it.
"No, I think that about does it. Thank you for your time, Lori. I'll get to work on moving over the next week." They could continue their vague niceties, but why bother? They had what they wanted. He simply nodded his head with a slight bowing of the torso and turned his back, walking out of the corporation headquarters and into the day.
Garrett looked at the expression on Isabel's face. He fought a grin but it rebelled and pushed its way onto his face. She was not pleased, as expected. Her glancing at Lisa drew lines in the sand. Red rover, red rover, come on over. He took a few steps in approach, though there was easily six feet between them. He placed his hands behind his back and folded them, his well known mouth revving up.
"So, I thought I would let you know that I am coming back to the Sanctuary full time. I'll be residing here as well as taking my office back as Public Relations Director. I know you don't like it, but I've already spoken with Lori. It's done." He could almost feel her bones twitching beneath her face. " However, considering your long and ever faithful standing, I chose to come and tell you to your face, rather than you tripping over yourself when you see my name on the glass again."
His own spine straightened significantly. As he waited for a response, be it verbal or not, his sense of Smell slowly faded away, taking its sister Taste along with it, the neural stimuli moving to his optic nerves. His field of magnification remained the same, though now her colors were vivid, her movements telegraphed. It was as if he were seeing through a cat's eyes, the whiskers contained in the eye. Perhaps she would simply fuss and complain. He wasn't dressed as a police officer, so that was a plus.
"What I don't like about you is your fickle nature. One minute you''re efficiently getting business done, the next you're a bleeding heart running away with the unicorn."
That summed it up fairly well. While her hand was raised to prevent rebuttal, Garrett's mind worked away at the sentence, like a leaf cutting ant. Fickle nature. He knew that most of the politics concerning him gravitated to this one thing about him. It was never a thing he felt ashamed of, it was more an adjective, like Garrett is bald. Bleeding heart running away with the unicorn. The same unicorn that the Sanctuary relied on for healing. The Iris Clinic had never seen human patient one while he was there. Maybe now, but Ozzie and Harriet were no doubt doing dandy in thier little corner of the woods. No reason to really argue. If this was the ceiling of her ire, he was acing it.
"You're allowed to change your mind. You're even allowed to f*** up every now and again. Just don't mess this up."
He could tell that silence was at least silver at the moment. Perhaps its value would rise sooner than later. The this. What was this this? With her question of where his living arrangements would be located answered half of that question. " Sanctuary, full time. Though, I think rather than couching it, I'd prefer to have a room connected to an office, if that suits you. I imagine the office is still there, more than likely covered in dust and silence. Nevertheless, I'll be focusing my efforts and energy on the Sanctuary residents, yes. What about other work?" If she caught his order reference earlier, this would be obvious. Sure, he wanted to run the day to day of the Sanctuary again. But there was so much more to do.
Ever watch a tire go flat? Not with a burst of action, as if running over a nail, but more the slow, eventual descent into uselessness? Garrett saw this very expression in the detective's face as he spoke. It was no real surprise, to see the defenses go up when faced with an ethical question. All bureaucrats, regardless of specific titles, had a sixth sense for dispatching queries of a dubious nature. He would have answered in a similar fashion, though he didn't have the stigma of public opinion to be bothered with.
So, his face turned up in a grin as he nodded in approval. " Spoken like a bureaucrat. I can surely respect that. Also, if you wanted to amend your report and place me at the scene, it would be alright. I've done much more than dance in leather in broad daylight." Advantage denied. " There's no reason to take the deflecting tone, however. I represent no organization, only myself." Yet. But , who cared anyway? The Orderlings on the wall were all so blatant and messy. Focus would remain on them as others got things accomplished. Run circles, dog.
A click of a pen and the man was ready to move on to files. Garrett was not going in the out slot just yet. " As a matter of fact, there is something else. You may come to discover that I get around. So, it should be no surprise to you that I am aware of a certain paramilitary mutant organization that operates out of the Mansion. We know which mansion. I am also aware that said organization is in cahoots with the police. Is it wise to shun some mutants and praise others? It would seem as if mere compliance with human law is the golden ticket which absolves mutants these days. Your thoughts?"
Garrett had covered the informational and strategic fronts first. Always business. He knew that regardless of the outcome with Lori and the Sanctuary, if he was going to join the Order again, he'd have to go through Isabel. He suspected that talking wasn't quite going to cut it and that suited him fine. Isabel respected blood over all other forms of currency. Seizure was ready to play.
He stood at the golden doors, dressed in khaki cargo shorts, sandals and an open white button up with wifebeater beneath. His hand gripped the handle, opening it enough to walk in. First thing to see was the illustrious Lisa, who wore a face of interest and slight surprise. " Hey Lisa. Can you call Isabel up here for me?" He smiled, his hands flexing and pumping as he prepared himself.
He looked at the plush seats of reception, but chose to stand, facing the hall she would inevitably come down. Best to see her coming, should she skip any niceties.
Character name: Garrett Wills (Seizure) Current affiliation: Unaffiliated, but working on it. Faction interest: Order, because I belong there. What do you need to do next to join?: Tryout, which may be happening currently. Nah, I know I have to fight Isabel first.
Garrett liked the detective's demeanor, regardless of his genetic placement on the big picture. The two men displayed a kind of unspoken agreement. Their meeting was auspicious and the follow up was up in the air so far. It was clearly foreshadowing to the manipulator, who waited to see the response to his newest query. It was slippery.
“We do have an equal opportunity policy. Whichever experienced officers want to transfer to us are free to do so, whether they be mutant or human. Why do you ask? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
Like an eel, slippery and focused. One direction and that is the same as the one it attacks with. Garrett noticed his ability to use bureaucracy and spin yarns. Sure, he was a cop, so it was normal. Bureaucracy was on the buttered side of the bread when it came to Seizure. His mouth replied in kind, though perhaps a bit unkind, depending on how the gene pool turned out. " I'm sure you will be doing some research, so I thought I would save you some legwork. I prefer mutants to humans. It's just who I am. So, I wanted to ask you a little question that has been itching at the back of my optic nerves. Would you have permanently maimed Razorback had he been merely a huge human?"
Garrett cocked his head to the side a bit, like a bird might. Cops had other means. Bashing a wrench into the eye of a suspect until the entire organ is destroyed had irked Garrett more than a little.
He was pleased that she caught his order jib. There was something to like; a sense of humor. People who didn't have them were generally aging at an advanced rate. He heard her say the words and at once the universe opened itself to him, the cosmic powers of manifestation displaying themselves as would the shiny new wings of a new dragonfly. "You are asking me to take a risk on you." She did need him. " I believe if anyone knows about risk, it's me. I can't imagine why I would be a risk, however. The only crime I ever committed against you and yours was the aforementioned liberation of Syn from her mortal coil. That did nothing but catapult you from bartender to CEO. That's a risk? You could use more risk, then."
"You know I can't trust you and that I don't like you.I don't know how to get past that."
Taking a slight inhalation which could have resembled a half sigh, Garrett simply shrugged his shoulders and smiled. " I still have no clue why you don't like me. But, whatever. Your personal feelings are irrelevant to my agenda. The fact that we hold similar core ideals is enough. Regardless of whether you choose to hire me, I will still pursue the same goal. So, it's me out front recruiting kids as myself, or running campaigns backed with money and muscle. The latter serves us both best. Don't you agree?" This was the kind of deal that sold itself, so as much of a windbag as he could be, he kept it that brief. Turning him down was stupid and whatever Lori Faust may be, stupid? Not so much.
