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.
The swearing stopped the moment she realized what exactly she'd barreled head first into. She didn't need her glasses to easily spot a cop's uniform. Or his gun-belt for that matter.
Disentangled, she was promptly hauled to her feet. Thankfully gently. "-sorry! I totally wasn't watching where I was going... this guy just tried to run me over and--" Oh god she was rambling. She probably snapped her jaw shut and stared, horrified, at the two cops... as well as the small group gathered around. She'd just embarrassed herself of a handful of strangers. Lovely.
”Ya alright, love?” Her head snapped in the guys direction. Woah... he was huge! He easily dwarfed the two guys inching closer to him, as well as one of he cops. Well, both of the cops really. It was hard for her to really gauge height seeing as she was five-foot nothing. "..Y-yeah."
”Think, that be assaulting an officer.”
Her eyes widened a fraction and her spine jerked ramrod straight in seconds. Shelby'd never, in all her life, ever gotten in trouble with the law. She'd spent a good portion of her life remaining on it's good side. The very suggestion that she'd gone and done something like that, while ludicrous, still make her panic slightly. More rambling, nonsensical apologies spilled forth.
"You sure you're alright? That was quite a spill." The other officer swung his light around, temporarily blinding her, and added, "You should really watch where you're going, lady. You never know what you're going to run into in this City, speeding around like you were-- HEY!" His attention was promptly captured by the handcuffed detainee who was now outside the cop car. The blinding light left with him as he turned and hurried toward the guy.
"WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, JERK!" She shook a fist at the taxi that was speeding off. The driver responded with an arm out his window and a finger aimed in her direction.
Smirking, she stepped fully out of the street. If she didn't say so herself, she was getting the hang of this big city thing. Back in Seattle she would have scooted out of the way of the taxi without uttering a word, but maybe shot a glare as his retreating vehicle. Twice now she'd opened her mouth and tried to mimic the New Yorker attitude in regards to the city's poor drivers. If ya can't beat em', join em' and all that jazz.
Glancing at her watch, she shuffled back into action. She was allotted exactly a half an hour to wiggle a jog in before she had to retreat back home to finish an essay. Being stubborn she'd decided that she absolutely couldn't put off her evening workout. Didn't want to get fat, after all. Heaven forbid she be a little squishy.
... Okay, maybe her late jog was more from being bitter about a comment about how 'curvey' she was, that someone who she'd never speak to ever again had told her a few days ago. She had a frail ego. And now she was torturing herself across the span of a few blocks to try and make up for it. Stuffing her ear-buds back into her ears, she drowned out the city sounds with music and took off down the street again, turning at the corner at the end of the block.
... she ran smack into the back of a cop. The both of them tumbled to the sidewalk in a mess of flailing arms and legs, while she cursed and got the air squeezed out of her lungs.
How she'd missed the lights in the first place, she'd never know.
His apology caught her off guard somewhat. Hadn't she been the one who'd chosen that particular girl? Maybe it was more because the girl had seemed to know about him. Or maybe it was a dragon thing. She didn't let it weigh heavily on her mind whatever the reason.
Instead she tucked her notes under her arm and shoved her behind an ear. "More than i'd hoped for, actually." She replied honestly, though didn't elaborate. She wasn't sure if he was aware that she was studying him as well, though she wouldn't put it past him. He seemed smart enough.
She also didn't mention that she'd already met quite a few mutants in her time, but that they were way back in her home state. Also, possibly the most boring mutants she'd ever met in her life. New York just seemed to bring a... a spark out in it's mutant population that Seattle lacked. "She's not to different from me, really."
Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, she hummed to herself and sighed. "It's human nature, really. We treat things that are different differently, and in doing so the people that fall into that category struggle to justify why. It doesn't matter in the end if it was because you were a red head or if you had wings- the end result always seems the same."
She'd seen it countless times from a variety of sources. I'm this was, so you treat me this way, thus i'm this was because of you. Lather, rinse, repeat.
"It's kind of sad, really... but understandable. There were always the special few that chose to look past the differences. They are rare, though. Everyone else spends their whole lives battling against each other because of a few people from their pasts. They allow the stigma to last longer than it should, because it's the only thing that justifies them being different."
Sighing, she caught herself at the end of her verbal essay and flushed red in the cheeks. "Eh... sorry. Lapsed into class-speak." Wriggling uncomfortable, she fought against the urge to explain further, but ultimately lost. "You know how it is, take one psychology class and your brain suddenly thinks it's got a degree."
Honestly it was hard to wipe the surprised look off her face. She... hadn't really taken him seriously. Could he really fit all of that inside him? Compared to his order she didn't feel quite so bad about pigging out with a burger and fries.
Grinning, she laughed outright at him and handed her card over to the guy behind the counter. "Where are you gonna fit all of that?!"
Once her card was back and her receipt, she tucked both away into her bag and stepped off to the side. There was a separate area for food pickup, and she was ready with their order number floating around her head.
"But really, how--"
"Shelby!" Sherry's bubbly voice pitched over the murmurer of the crowd to reach her. Instantly the smile melted off her face, replaced by a grimace. She'd been hoping not to run into her classmates again. Their personalities were rather draining on her.
"We didn't see you when we got here. Thought maybe you'd gone home or something." David chimed in as the two of them sidled up with Alex and Shelby. Each had an empty, or nearly empty tray in their hands. Apparently they had just finished eating.
"David, Sherry... sorry, I took a little longer than expected getting here." The brunette bounced on the balls of her feet, a happy grin on her lips. Tossing her tray on top of Davids, she all but flung herself at the poor Ginger, who in turn had to struggle not to dart out of reach like a frightened animal. She hated people touching her... hugs, hand holding, shoulder squeezing. If she hadn't gotten so good at suppressing the knee-jerk reactions of knocking peoples hands away from her in order to preserve a meager image of tolerance, she was sure no one would talk to her at all. Which made normal life rather difficult.
Still, it was obvious to most that she was uncomfortable. Sherry, unfortunately, wasn't one of those people. "Have you been down the exhibit yet? David and I have. There are so many amazing pieces!"
David, who was looking at Alex, shot her a questioning glance. "Oh, right. This is Alex. He's a... friend I ran into on the way here. Thought he might want to tag along so I invited him." She shot Alex what she hoped was an apologetic half smile, instead of a panicked grimace... which it felt like. "Alex, this is David and Sherry. My classmates."
The brunette pouted slightly as she let go of Shelby. 'Classmates' may have been too formal, but the ginger didn't exactly think of them as friends.
Smirking, she shrugged her shoulders at his joke. "If they let you. I've heard rumors about getting between New Yorker's and their food."
The line shuffled up a little, and she followed. The man directly behind them in line rolled his eyes at her joke, but said nothing. Eventually they were front in line. Shelby ordered for herself; plain ole' burger and fries with a soda. " I'm buying for his too." Then she stepped slightly out of the way so Alex could order for himself.
Man behind the counter, who looked to be in his mid forties, chuckled and adjusted the cap on his head. "Ah, you kids are cute. What with your unorthodox dates and all. You know, in my day.."
Someone cleared their throat behind the line, and he cut himself off while casting dirty look over their heads. Shelby fought to keep a pleasant smile on her face, even though she felt like groaning.
Turning on her heel with a flourish, she headed back down the hallway. A helpful sign pointed them towards the elevator. They passed quite a few sculptures and paintings on the way, but she put her blinders on and ignored them.
"I know you'll like this place. It's pretty chill, but they have awesome food."
Maybe it was a little presumptuous of her to assume he would like the food and/or place just as much as she did... but she was generally honest with her opinions. He seemed like the type to like it, so that's where her mind settled on the matter.
Stepping aside once they reached the elevators, so other people could exit, she smiled at him. Boarding the elevator she bopped the 2nd floor button and waited for others to shuffle in before the door closed. The ride could have been described as tense, as every other passenger kept glancing at the bird settled on Alex's shoulder nervously.
One short ride later they were all filing out, some more glad than most to be free of the confined box. Pointing toward where most of the small crowd was heading, she followed after. One spacious hallway led them past bathrooms and a few unlabeled doors, until it widened into a cavernous room that smelled primarily like burgers and french fries. It was packed with other museum denizens all stuffing their faces with various things. Shelby dodged and danced her way up to the front of the line, making sure not to move too quickly lest she lose her guest.
Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted his attention on the wall and stopped momentarily. "You like?" A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I've seen his work before. He paints something new every time. Doesn't like things lasting forever like other artists."
Glancing at the painting herself, she decided right there she didn't like it. The colours looked off to her. The texture of the wall, while it made a statement, wasn't her favorite thing. She preferred neat lines in most cases. Of course that didn't take away from the overall feeling of the painting. Art was supposed to be like that.
"Kind of awesome really. Somethings just aren't meant to last forever. We have to enjoy them while we can, before they're gone."
He was probably one of her favorite local professional artists, simply for that fact. A lot of people put too much value in their work and she left they lost the meaning behind of it because of that.
Glancing at him, she tucked her recorder back into er pocket and glanced at her watch. They hadn't been in the museum very long, but she had promised him food and she only needed a handful of pieces for her project.
"How about some grub? I could go for a bite right about now." Or even just a coffee. She hadn't met her caffeine and deliciousness quota for the day yet, but there was still time!
Waiting for his response, she headed forward toward the next room anyway. There were usually signs to point them in the direction of the cafeteria she wanted. It was on the second floor.
Oh. Wait... He was either talking about his brain being chaotic, or referencing his...whatever it was he did with his power. Either way she didn't really know what he meant full...
So, she chose to awkwardly ignore what he had said like she hadn't heard it and moved to stare pointedly at one of the other paintings. It was colorful. Vibrant hues of orange, red, and a smudge of blue. She could pick out the shapes of leaves and branches. Swirling patters that probably represented a breeze. Toward the middle of the canvas the brushstroke shifted from lazy and swoopy to shark and direct. If she squinted and turned her head slightly sideways she could just barely make out the image of what looked to be a fox.
While chaotic, she liked this one. She was ever the hypocrite. But, this one was full of color and if there was one thing that could sway her opinion it was color.
Switching her recorder on, she documented the name and tile and chewed on her lip. "... The colors of autumn. Reminds me of home. Bright and stylistic. Really catches my eye."
Switching it back off, she turned to plot the next course of action.
She let him take the lead as she turned to a painting at her side and took a few quick audio notes about it. His comment drew her attention back to him, though. Casually, she wandered to his side.
"Mm." The sculpture he was talking about was pretty interesting, if she did say so herself. Not her usual cup of tea, mind you, but still thought provoking. She took a peek at the title of the sculpture and hummed to herself. "A collab, huh?"
The piece itself was a giant spiral of different minds all melded into one body. She could make out a few distinct things, one being a foxes head, and another being what looked like a gas mask. All in all there were a few different images that made up the entirety of the statue. Though she wouldn't know where to begin when it came to differentiating between them.
"eh... I don't tend to like art like this. Too.... chaotic."
She flinched away from his lifted hand, her face contorting in a near stereotypical expression of fear. He was being... less frightening, and yet that was even more terrifying for some reason.
Yep. The boogey man was totally real. He was it's definition to a T. Arguing that fact now would be like arguing that earth rotated the sun. Or that the moon came out at night. Unless she was concussed, or drunk, it wasn't likely to happen.
Of course instead of focusing on the fact that he was letting her go, her mind decided to latch onto his vague threat of always being in the shadows. Watching her. Of course that hadn't exactly been what he had said, but right at that moment she wasn't really thinking clearly. She bobbed her head at him in response to her promise, her expression shifting into one of terrified determination.
The moment he was up and backing away from her she bolted. Fear had overruled her legs for once, and with a speed she probably wouldn't be able to match ever again she was sprinting off down the alley towards freedom. He had been right that she was going to ignore her phone-- for what it was worth she didn't exactly feel like it was more important than her life. She'd just save up and buy another one... somehow.
Shelby turned the corner back onto the road at full speed, nearly losing her footing on the slick sidewalk, but manage not to add 'slipping in the rain' onto her list of embarrassments for the evening. She was already covered in god-only-knew-what, probably reeked of sweat and tears, and she was more than likely going to have a strange array of bruises here and there that she'd have to come up with excuses for.
Well, that is, if she ended up telling anyone once her mind cleared. She was sure that if Jennifer was home when she burst in through the door she'd get a rambling earful from her, but after that Shelby knew herself well enough (well, normally she did) to keep her mouth shut when things she was uncomfortable with came to light.
And this... this incident she was definitely uncomfortable with. As she sped away gasping for breath, she was sure he was going to leap out of every shadowy corner at her.
She blinked and chuckled. Of course it wasn't real blood! Only the crazy artists did that.
"A good point. It could also be commentary on the phrase "blood, sweat, and tears." She had been about to argue her point to him, but at the same time what he had said was being carefully poked and dissected in her brain.
"Perhaps the unspoken voice behind it isn't trying to pay homage to all of the work that goes into music, but rather a pointed jab at what some people call music. Like... " She floundered for a moment, trying to recall some kind of song that was unfairly popular these days. "Like Dustin Gleaver."
Moving around the piece to stand at his side, Shelby pointed at the bloody bench with her pencil. "A mockery of all the hard work that used to go into music, now paraded around by shirtless, scantily clad men and women who can't really sing when you take away the auto tune."
Clicking her recorder off, she smiled at him. "See? I knew you'd do fine here." Turning on her heel, she moved off down the hall toward the next item.
"I'll bet there will be more in the next room. It's not normal for one piece to take up a whole area, but some artists can be picky about where they place their stuff."
The grin she threw at him over her shoulder could have been described as nefarious. Turning at a sign with a large arrow pointing toward the modern art exhibit, which took them down a short ramp into a longer hallway, she tugged out a pad of paper and a slim voice recorder.
The very first display they came across was a plain white piano sitting in the middle of an empty room. Everything from the legs to the keys had been painted pristine white. The only color came from a deep crimson red splashed upon the keys, which had dribbled down the front of the instrument and onto the bench. There were no words, no explanation of what it was supposed to mean, just the artists name in plain black letters on a small plaque atop the piano.
"Well this is interesting at least." She commented, bending down a little to give the ivory keys a skeptical once-over. Then, clicking her recorder on, she took a little breath in and started.
"Artist Jean Pastolli. Piece is untitled. Subject is piano supposedly covered in blood. Hmm.. Bloody keys. Maybe it's meant to be a metaphor for all of the work musicians put into their music? Blood, sweat, and tears and all that jazz." She paused, jotting something down in her notebook and glanced at Alex. "What do you think Alex?"
She felt the overbearing weight of his mere presence crushing in on her and huddled further into herself. Was fear supposed to make her feel this paranoid? This... this aware of just how scary everything was?
She'd never been so scared in all her life so she didn't have anything to compare the feeling too. Like she was slowly going completely bonkers and she couldn't stop it. Every shadow made her flinch. Every noise set her nerves on fire. The very fact that he was squatted down on her level and yet he wasn't choking her to death or eating her face off or whatever was even more terrifying than if he was actually doing it. The expectation, the anticipation, of it was killing her.
She nodded her head once at him in response, quick and jerkily, not wanting to piss him off by ignoring his question. She internally agreed with him, the part of her that was still struggling for some semblance of sanity that is. She did have terrible luck. Always had. This incident was just a wider, deeper notch on its belt.
"I'm sorry... i'm sorry. I didn't know you were real... Jen said you were but I didn't believe her... I should have.. I should have believed her.. " Oh lord there were the tears... fight it! Don't cry! Don't let him see you crying! She squeezed her eyes shut and fought against her protesting lungs for air.
"I'm so sorry, I won't ever do it again. I promise! I never break my promises!"
Though her voice had barely carried, the emotion and fear in it could be easily heard. She was one fraying nerve away from breaking completely. Autopilot was telling her to do whatever she had to do to survive, even if that mean cowering and begging for forgiveness from the mutant.
