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 Chris Berg on Aug 5, 2014 15:10:30 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Chris was looking at some kind of laser show while she spoke, but she definitely had his attention. He wondered if Mirror's girlfriend, Eve, was the same person she'd gone to the mansion for. To be honest, he didn't know much about the X-men or what they did. He'd been too nervous to talk to any members when he'd been staying at the mansion. He mostly used his abilities to keep himself alive, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate what the X-men did for the city and for mutantkind - or the sacrifices they went through to keep people safe.
"For what it's worth, I think you are important," he said in a low voice. "Show humans that we aren't all thieves or psychos." He turned back towards Mirror as another thought struck him. "Do you get paid for being in the X-men? Is it a full-time job, or more like a hobby? Calling. I mean calling."
He realized that he might be coming off as a bit too curious and quickly added: "Don't worry, I'm not thinking about joining. Just curious." She probably wouldn't think that a scrawny, nearsighted fish mutant who had been caught breaking (sneaking) into an arts museum would have any interest in joining the X-men, but it was always good to be clear.
Posted by Chris Berg on Aug 5, 2014 14:19:48 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Aaand here's the continuation of Chris' archive after the long break I took (ca 2011-2014)
I'll Borrow That, Thanks Chris is missing a jacket and tries to steal one from a passer-by. Unfortunately it's a very expensive designer jacket that belongs to Malakai, who isn’t very amused.
Running Into an old Friend After an incident with the police Chris tries to shake them off with his old van. That's when he runs into an old friend... quite literally.
Fishing For Favors Chris meets the undead southern belle Emily and ask for her help with buying sashimi. Things then take a turn for the worse when they hear a scream from a nearby abandoned building.
The Exhibition After sneaking into a museum for modern art, Chris is apprehended by Mirror.
Two's a Company After running and hiding from three men Chris unwittingly drags the young mutant runaway Tim Silver into the fight.
Old Favors After dithering around in New York it’s time for a slightly hesitant Chris to return to the Mansion.
It Came From Below Chris is out looking for a late-night snack… and so is Sylar. Unfortunately, Chris seems to fit that description pretty well…
Of Rain and Thieves Chris successfully steals a wallet from Margo Jewell, but decides it’s not worth the bother of having an overly polite teenager following you.
Posted by Chris Berg on Aug 3, 2014 16:22:11 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Chris weighed uneasily from foot to foot. "As long as you don't call me sir," he mumbled. It felt weird, when he had done nothing to deserve any respect.
When she explained that she'd just been out exploring he raised an eyebrow at her - or rather, the area where his eyebrow would have been if he'd had any hair. "As for safe, it looks pretty safe to me." "Technically, you did just get your wallet stolen," he commented in a flat voice. He had a bit of a habit to state the obvious.
Chris tapped his fingers against the garbage can's lid, not really sure what to do. He should probably leave - it wasn't his business where other people walked. If she wanted to explore this area of the town, she had a right to do so. He hesitated slightly before giving up his name. "Chris," he said, and then added "Who are you?"
He might be a thief, but he still had manners. Sorta.
Posted by Chris Berg on Jul 31, 2014 16:10:38 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
So apparently he didn't qualify as a mugger. What did you say to that? Thank you?
Chris squinted his yellow eyes and gave her a longer, more thorough look. He didn't feel guilty about stealing from her: he never felt guilty about stealing from anyone anymore. But there was something about her that reminded him about Casey. The chestnut hair, the way she approached him without fear... The more he thought about it, the more he felt that he wasn't meant to have her wallet. She had him beaten, she had earned it back. It was no loss for him, after all. He just needed to find someone with slower reflexes.
He placed the wallet on the lid of the garbage can and pushed it towards the girl with a webbed, four-fingered hand. "Then take it."
He withdrew his hand and added: "But I'm honest about the advice I gave you. Money isn't worth losing your life over." He tilted his head to the side and gave her a puzzled look. "This area is not the safest one. Why are you even here?"
Posted by Chris Berg on Jul 31, 2014 6:05:03 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Suddenly he felt a grip around his arm. He quickly tore himself free and spun around; the girl had chased after him and they were now face to face. Chris took a few sidesteps so he ended up with two garbage cans between them - the girl didn't seem aggressive, but he didn't want to risk another black eye.
This was a bit of a dilemma. She would want her wallet back, and he wasn't fast enough to outrun her. Usually people didn't follow him when he ran - the thiefs in New York had a nasty reputation. But now he had to decide; should he give her the wallet back or try to get away with it? For now, he choose to just keep on his side of the garbage cans, prepared to start cirkling them in case she'd try to get a hold of him again.
He peered at her over the top of the can - she was uncannily calm for someone who'd gotten her things taken. Usually it involved more screaming, swearing and throwing stuff. But then again, she was young... younger than he had thought. "Nowhere," he said suspiciously, wary of any sudden movements she'd make. "You shouldn't chase after muggers. You never know which ones might stab you." It might sound like a threat, but Chris only stabbed people in defense. Stealing was one thing, hurting people another.
Posted by Chris Berg on Jul 30, 2014 15:33:39 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
When Mirror mentioned her girlfriend Chris nodded. "Aha. Yes, she would probably be helpful." He knew as much about dating as he knew about wine tasting; it looked like fun, seemed to be a lot of rules to it that he didn't get, and it probably wasn't for him in the end. He knew that some considered dating someone of your own gender wrong, but he had never understood why. Besides, regular gender norms weren't exactly applicable to Mirror.
When Mirror went to lock up the bathroom Chris continued to look at the light installations. He began to understand that she probably had a point with what she had said earlier - this wasn't just something you could pop in and expect to understand in just ten minutes. Maybe he really should have started from the beginning...
When Mirror came back from the bathroom Chris was looking at a video installation of a girl who was dressed from top to toe in lightbulbs. They went out one after the other, leaving the room she stood in in more and more darkness. But what was the point of it?
"Yeah. Thanks for reminding me." "No problems," he answered, and then admitted: "I think I begin to understand why people find art frustrating."
He looked over his shoulder at her. "Why did you join the X-men? If it's okay that I ask."
Posted by Chris Berg on Jul 30, 2014 14:06:01 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Chris had a very pragmatic outlook on stealing. He knew it was morally wrong, and that most people didn't appreciate someone else getting their hands on their goods... but sometimes it was needed. To him, it all balanced out in the end: one day he would steal from a store, the next day someone would pull him into an alley and take his stuff from him.
It was like the circle of life, only less poetic.
Usually he only took what he needed, but sometimes it wasn't an object he needed, but a favor. Like when he got a flat tire on his van. Usually he moved it around and parked it in different spots during the day - he often went on trips outside of New York, too - and losing his mobility made him vulnerable.
So there was nothing other to do than to obtain some funds for the repair.
He had been hanging around this area of the town for a couple of hours; there weren't much people around, and if someone went chasing after him it was easy to lose them in the maze of alleyways nearby. Well, most of the time. A little old lady hadn't approved of his tactics and had socked him in the face with her handbag, which had resulted in one black eye. Despite that setback, he had managed to collect half of the money he needed. A few more should be sufficient.
It was raining when he caught sight of the girl with the chestnut-colored hair in front of him. She was standing under a streetlight and didn't look in his direction, so she probably hadn't noticed him yet. Chris snuck up on her, and when he was close enough he dashed forward. He was used to catching fish with his bare hands - quickly sticking his hand into one of her pockets and snagging her wallet wasn't a challenge. "Sorry!" He turned around and started to run from the scene - he was a slower runner than most regular humans, so he relied on his victims being dumbfounded for a while.
Posted by Chris Berg on Jul 30, 2014 8:30:03 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Hmm... I think money would be what he'd need the most (unless she carries around large cans of fresh water or gasoline ) Actually, Chris has pretty bad eyesight, so he probably doesn't even notice the age of the people he steals from. Would you like to start? Preferably in a place with not too much people around!
Posted by Chris Berg on Jul 30, 2014 7:57:24 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
I'd love to let Chris meet her! I would suggest him stealing from her, but he is picky with his victims and wouldn't steal from a young girl unless it was something he really needed... Or they could just bump into each other, or she could catch him stealing from someone else and try to stop him. Interested?
Posted by Chris Berg on Jul 29, 2014 6:49:40 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Locke seemed to be in a good mood. He had put on some more muscle, and seemed to have changed a bit from the timid guy Chris had met in the library. In retrospect, it had been a small miracle that two of the biggest introverts in the mansion had gotten out of their respective shells long enough to hang out when they were teenagers... but Chris was glad they had.
His two years in the wilderness had made him put on some muscle too, but he had gone the sinewy, wiry route. Other than that he hadn't changed much outwardly - he'd gotten a bit taller, but not very noticeably. The biggest difference, except from his worn-down clothes, was probably that he didn't move as if he expected an ambush waiting for him behind every tree.
Chris walked in through the gate when Locke gestured for him to do so. While the other mutant explained what he'd been up to lately Chris let his eyes wander over the Mansion grounds. The building was familiar, and seeing it still standing there was strangely soothing.
"Here and there," he answered honestly. "I... had some things I needed to figure out. Needed to be by myself. I went back to my grandfather's place for a while. He's dead," he added helpfully in the same tone of voice someone might say look, it's raining. Locke might remember that it had been Chris' grandfather who'd raised him, but Chris didn't remember telling him that the old man was dead. "I took his van, and have been moving from place to place since then. Mostly north of the border, around the Great Lakes. I've been back in New York for... three months now, I think." The days had a tendency to run together when you didn't have a real job or took any classes. He didn't go into much detail: somehow he doubted Locke wanted to know exactly what he'd been up to since returning to New York. Not all of it had been, strictly speaking, legal.
He glanced back at Locke. "Glad to hear you got into college after all," he said. Hopefully Locke would remember their library conversation from three years ago. "So what are you studying? Something with a lot of math?"
Posted by Chris Berg on Jul 22, 2014 9:44:51 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Chris was gliding slowly throught he water now, trying to not make any sudden movements. He could see something glittering right in front of him: fish scales in the vague moonlight. Just before he made his strike something spooked the fish: they scattered in all directions, and he could feel them swimming quickly around him. He tried to catch one, but his hands just threaded through empty water.
Suddenly he could feel the smell, too. There was the unmistakeable smell of raw sewage, combined with something he'd never experienced before. Whatever it was it immediately put him on edge. Was someone dumping hazardous material in the lake? In that case he needed to get out of there.
Suddenly he heard a very faint splash, something that sounded like a small fish breaking the surface. It came from right above him. A dark figure shadowed him from the faint moonlight, and the figure was swimming downward at a breakneck speed - as it got closer he could hear the water ferociously slooshing around it.
Right then he didn't care a single iota for pointless questions like how, why, who or what. The only thing he cared about was getting as far away as possible from whatever the hell that thing was.
His first instinct was to swim deeper, but after just two near-panicked breaststrokes he reached the bottom again. He swiftly tore up a muddy cloud that hopefully would confuse his pursuiter, and then quickly started swimming forward through the darkness in a zig-zag pattern. His heart was beating madly and his survival instincts had kicked in, making it hard for him to think straight. He only had a single thought echoing through his mind: must get away must get away must get away! Even though he didn't have time to stop and enjoy the irony of it, the experience was pretty much like what the bass and carps he'd chased earlier had gone through.
Posted by Chris Berg on Jul 21, 2014 17:32:39 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
In Chris' opinion, Central Park was overrated. Sure, it was the biggest and most famous park in New York, but it was also the loudest one, and the most dangerous. He never went there during the day unless he could avoid it. At night it was quieter, but even more dangerous. You never knew which bush was just a regular, neutral piece of greenery and which bush hid a robber, ready to shank you for a handful of dollars.
He had his own way of avoiding trouble, though. When you were out in the lakes people on land had no idea knowing where you went, or even that you were there. It was usually too dark for people to see him out in the lake, even when he went up to the surface for air. On the other hand it was pretty hard for him to see his prey, but when he was in the water he relied more on his sense of smell anyway. Lake water was usually too muddy to see very far in, even during the day.
Chris swam slowly through the Harlem Meer, an eleven acre lake famous for it's fish. During the day you'd see fisherman standing on the shore, trying to land the biggest catch, snapping a photo of it and then letting it back into the lake again. Needless to say, Chris had no intentions of letting anything he caught go. He considered it a favor to the eco system, though - the fish in the Harlem Meer had gotten way to complacent, growing fat from the corn visitors threw into the lake. He was introducing some much-needed fear of larger predators into the schools of fish.
He was swimming close to the bottom, close to the shore with a couple of weeping willows casting their shadow on the moonlit water surface, feeling his way with his hands across the muddy ground. The scent of fish was strong here, and it was usually a good place to snag a resting carp or two.
Posted by Chris Berg on Jul 21, 2014 15:04:22 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
Chris turned around at the sound of the opening gate and suddenly found himself getting embraced. At first he went completely rigid, feverishly considering the quickest way to get loose - elbow in the guts? Bite the arm? - but then he recognized the guy who'd hugged him. "Locke!" he exclaimed happily and relaxed visibly.
He didn't hug back, but when Locke withdrew he clasped his hand between both of his and gave it a shake, which was about the fondest gesture you would get from Chris. He was sure Locke wouldn't mind. Chris looked up at his old friend - it seemed as if the Earthwalker had gotten taller since the last time he'd seen him, or maybe he just remembered it wrong. His hair was shorter and didn't cover his scar and his white, dead eye anymore, which made him seen... surer of himself. Less vulnerable.
"It is good to see you, my friend," Chris said somberly, but he was smiling a genuine smile. He gave Locke's hand a last shake before letting go. "I was hoping you'd still live at the mansion."
Posted by Chris Berg on Jul 16, 2014 11:48:11 GMT -6
Epsilon Mutant
79
1
Mar 20, 2015 9:51:23 GMT -6
It was late in the afternoon, and Chris had been sitting in his old worn-down van outside the gates of the Mansion for the better part of an hour. Through the gates he could see the familiar grounds, and behind them, the old mansion itself.
He had intended to return sooner, but had always found a reason not to. It was first recently, after he'd met Mirror, that he'd tried to put a finger on his resistance towards returning. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the Mansion - it was probably the safest place for mutants in New York, and the few friends he had had lived there. Was he ashamed of leaving? He had no reason to be ashamed, he told himself. He'd learned a lot since he left, and now he was able to stand on his own legs and look out for himself. His appearance was a bit ruffled and threadbare after living on the streets, but that didn't bother him.
This introspection had no purpose. It was just making him nervous. Chris had come here with a purpose: to see how the Mansion had changed and if any of his old friends still lived there, and to attempt to pay back what was owed.
It was drizzling slightly when he exited the car: not that he minded, the moist was good for him. He decided to take it as a good sign. He walked up to the gate and frowned when he caught sight of his old nemesis: the touch-screen entrance console. He put his finger on it, but, just as expected, it just skidded straight over the surface, leaving a slightly slimy trail on the console. Chris tried two times more until he gave up - his old code would probably not work anyway, he'd been away for two years, after all - and pressed the ASSISTANCE REQUESTED button next to the console. He weighed from one foot to the other while waiting for the answer, feeling a bit antsy.
he's a pragmatic thief that way. So, gas or money to buy gas. Sounds good!