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.
Rayne. Her name was Rayne. Wonder how she spelled it? She rolled through a few spelling options while waiting for it to be removed.
All she felt was a little slide, really... and then the strange absence of it. It was a very welcome feeling.
Shelby cracked an eye open to see how it was going, and was relieved to see that her thigh was needle free. She just about deflated as all of of the pent up tension left her body.
She nodded slightly at the advice. It was pretty sound, really. Her parents would probably make her go anyway.
"Thank you... really. I have a-" She glanced at the syringe and shuddered. "-p-phobia of needles..." It had always sounded lame before, but now that someone has literally stabbed her with one she felt a little justified.
She glanced around at the mention of something to eat or drink. Huh.. they were in a store... but it was currently under duress.
"Do you think-" A child with a police officers baton ran screaming past, followed by a lanky teen struggling to hold on a too-big officers outfit.
Shelby blinked, she teeth chattering slightly. "... I dunno if this is a safe place to be. Could you help me up?"
"Maybe I can head to that little stop n' shop on 3rd and get a snack or something."
Shelby nodded about the missing time bit. "Yes!" A little hopeful flutter kicked up in her chest. "Like, 10 years!"
Quickly, she glanced over to where the bartender was setting up someone else's drink. She shifted herself and her drink closer to her conversation partner and lowered her voice.
"My ID says i'm supposed to be 28.... but the last thing I remember is being 18, in Seattle Washington, and being at a mutant's rights protest with the girl I liked." She paused to take a shaky breath. "I've been wandering this god forsaken city for three days now trying to figure out how and why, and finding nothing but dead ends."
The Pinkette laughed suddenly, lifting her drink to take a couple of gulps.
"I thought I was the only one!"
It was a relief, in a way. If there were others, didn't that mean there would be more people to put their heads together and figure out what had happened?
"I'm Shelby, by the way." She held a hand out to shake.
The teen nodded dumbly. "S-Shelby." Okay, talking. She could do talking. "What's going on outside? I think I must have passed out or something. I don't remember how I got in here." She decided to leave Olivia's name out of it, just in case. She didn't need anyone overhearing and having a name to go with a face late if her friend really had escaped.
She was watching the woman like a hawk. A very shaky, confused hawk. When she rolled the stretchy fabric up, Shelby just about passed out from nerves alone. She hadn't even seen it yet for Christ's sake!
The Artist turned her head to the side and screwed her eyes shut. "I won't hit you, I promise! Go ahead!"
Ohgod, was she ready for this? Maybe she could just live with the needle in her thigh for the rest of her life.
Shelby was a bundle of nerves, but this lady seemed calm. That helped. She started to focus on settling herself down enough that she wouldn't jerk around when touched.
"o-okay.. I got this. I'm calm."
Deep breath in, deep breath out. Calm.
Ohgod, what if the needle was huge?! Why did it have to be a needle anyway!? She hated needles!
She what the woman was going while trying to control the shaking that has overtaken her whole body.
"Lady, if you can get this thing out of me I will kiss you." She paused. "In an entirely platonic way." Another pause.
"But only if you want though."
Was that her teeth chattering?
She settled her hands down at her sides and one of them encountered a purse. It was draped around her shoulder and neck, but... it wasn't her purse. She had never seen it before in her life.
Now that she thought about it, she was wearing different clothing too. She had definitely not left the house in stretch pants and an over sized Ironic t-shirt.
Who the hell was the Blue Torch and why was he ironic?
"What the @#$%." It felt like the millionth time she had whispered that in 20 minutes.
The pinkette tucked her pen away, listening to the woman (why the hell hadn't she asked her name yet?!) talk. When she looked back, she was smiling slightly with a rosy blush dusting her cheeks. "I mean, are you volunteering?"
Holy @#$% she was flirting. Olivia would probably be pissed. Or proud? Maybe a mix of both.
Also, Olivia was like... ten years ago. It was inevitable that she had moved on during whatever had happened to Shelby.
The Artist leaned in with her elbows crossed on the counter.
"Uhm. Hang on, did you- Wait. I er. Well hun, I sort of woke up in an Alley with no memory of coming here the other day."
....wat.
Shelby reeled back like she had been struck. With a mystery maybe, but like it had been physically thrown in her face. Her thoughts swirled, growing attraction screeching to a halt as she temporarily moved onto more important things.
"...Y-you did?" Her racing thoughts were almost visible on her face. "So... I'm not the only one? Other people are going through the same thing? What... what the @#$%..."
What the @#$%!
She looked back to the woman with a bit of a desperate look on her face. "Did.. did you find out what happened to you?"
Permission granted. Shelby was off in an art inspired haze immediately, eyes flicking back and forth from the woman and the napkin she was working on.
"I'm sure you've heard it before, but I'm also sure that 99% of those times it was just used as a common phrase to try and get in your pants." She locked eyes with the woman, stoic and certain. "I mean it. Your angles and color scheme. The shape of your lips. The curls in your hair. They all combine to make something otherworldly beautiful."
She had a rough sketch drawn as a base, so she dove into filling the rest of it out with undivided focus. The condensed beauty of the woman before her that was lodged in her skull would be fleshed out on the thin paper. Her curls framing the curves of her face, head tilted back ever so and lips slightly parted. A delicately shaded nose, eyes framed with pretty lashes and eyebrows that perfectly accentuated them.
She sat back after she as done and gave the little drawing a once over, before setting her pen down and sliding the napkin across the counter to it's owner.
"I have a weird fixation on beautiful things. Do you know how many impossibly beautiful people are in this city? It's weird... like there are models running around everywhere."
She dove back into her drink with a gusto, chewing on another olive as she clapped it back down.
"I have no idea what I am doing here..." She felt a little lost, even with alcohol and a beautiful girl beside her.
"Just the other day I was kissing this wonderful, beautiful girl in Seattle and then... i'm here. Woke up in a grocery store of all places."
"I haven't, thankfully.." She fiddled with her pen nervously. "Just discovered that I am part of the group they are supposed to keep an eye on, apparently. Been avoiding practically everyone for three days since..." She paused again, her throat going a little dry.
"Since getting here."
"I tend to doodle for stress relief, yeah... planning on selling art for a living some day, so it fits in with the whole... dynamic." She pulled a face at herself, "And drinking helps, ans if I knew where my sorta-girlfriend was that would probably help out too but." She flipped her hands in the air and shrugged to end her statement.
"It's nice..." She started, thinking back to her home city. "Or, it was. I don't know what it looks like there anymore, it's apparently been a few years. Could be a lot more like this hell hole now I suppose."
She complimented her hair. Shelby blushed and took a moment to really look at the gal.
She was gorgeous. Lacking bright colorful plumage, yes... but the artist knew beauty when she saw it. Her blush deepened a little and she flipped her napkin over as inspiration hit.
The artist glanced up at the compliment for her doodle. "Thanks." She smiled a little. She supposed chatting was better than stewing in her own depressing thoughts. "I doodle when stressed." A little chuckle, and she set the pen down.
Then the gal said something that caught her attention more than fleeting art compliments. She thought the robots were weird too!
"I know, right?! Like... I do not remember those being a thing. I can't even-" She sat up a little straighter, turning in her chair to face the woman more. "Like what kinda dystopian nightmare is this where they have robots who can specifically find and track mutants? How did an idea like that make it out of the preliminary stage?"
She fidgeted with her drink some more, glancing at the bartender who was more of less ignoring them. She probably heard a lot of shit on a daily basis.
"This @#$% would't fly in Seattle, let me tell ya."
She started doodling on a napkin while she waited for her next drink to arrive.
When the new spicy red tomato drink was plopped down in front of her she pushed the little doodle off to the side where she could continue drawing, but also drown herself in her drink.
"That's an understatement."
The comment was soft, but directed at the woman only a few seats from her.
Understatement of the century, really.
Her little drawing was unfolding into a patchwork of swirling flowers and leaves, with small eyes filling in the empty space. A full jungle. Mystery. Yeah.
Shelby popped one of the olives from her drink into her mouth with a sigh.
A TV behind the bar was broadcasting the news. Current weather, breaking stories. Something about another robot glitching out and going on a mutant hunting spree.
Shelby was still in a silent shouting match with her leg. She did notice what looked like medical supplies though, and her brain did a little backflip trying to connect the dots. This woman wasn't an officer, no uniform... so she must have been a regular person either attending the protest or someone who just got sucked into the mess.
"Do I take it out or leave it in?!" The words tumbled from her lips in a panic as she gestured uselessly at the needle. "They never went over this in health class! Why would someone stab me? I'm I nice person!"
She was a little on edge. Totally on on the verge of crying... totally.
Where was Olivia? Had she left her here? Had she been arrested during the ruckus?
A million and one questions were rushing though her head, all of which led straight back to the fact that she had been honest to goodness stabbed.
In all her life she never thought it would be her. Nope... maybe someone else, but not boring ole' Shelby. Didn't this kinda thing happen in New York and stuff? Not Seattle!
"C-Can you help me get it out?"
Crap she was stuttering. Endorphins were wearing off.
It was cold. This city was more crowded than her home had been, and the bed in her hotel room had a mystery lump that her back disagreed with.
IT had been two whole days since she had woken up in an entirely different city, in a different year and in different @$%#in' clothes than she had remembered. She had run into dead end after dead end. Her Mom's phone number was answered by a stranger, and her dad's was disconnected.
She was no closer to finding an answer that she wanted to hear, even if there was an inkling of truth burning a hole right through the unfamiliar purse on the bar counter beside her.
Oh, yeah... she was in a bar. She was 18, or... she thought she was? @#$%. Whatever. The ID in the purse said she was old enough to drink and had her picture on it, so forgive her for abusing the situation to try and calm her nerves.
She was nursing a Bloody Mary like she was nursing a hangover, which she wasn't. Might as well have been though with the headache she was dealing with. The picture she had found in the wallet, of her lookalike and some dude in what looked like a Las Vegas wedding, and another of a baby. Who's baby? Hell if she knew. She didn't tend to like kids a whole lot herself.
Oh, right, she nearly forgot about that one other thing was totally caught her off guard.
Apparently she wasn't human anymore too.
"... The hell is going on?..."
She vaguely recalled hearing another patron as the bartender what the place was called.
... Huh, she hadn't even looked at the name when she had wandered in to sit down.
"Fat Pint Tavern, love." The woman quipped back, using a rag to dry a newly cleaned beer mug.
Huh. Sounded like a Portland pub name to her.
"S'cuse me, may I have another please?" Shelby lifted her mostly empty cup as proof.
It all started when she ran out of milk. An empty jug led to a list of other things the house needed, which led to her visiting her dad in order to get him to watch the baby for her while she went out to collect the groceries.
She probably should have been more cautious with the string of recent attacks against mutants. She should have thought ahead a little more than she had.
Hindsight is 20/20 though.
She pulled into the parking lot of her go-to grocery store. Dutifully remembered her reusable bags to do her part to save the world, and locked her car with cheerful mechanical chirp because she was a real adult.
The artist made her merry way onto into the store, stopping to collect a cart along the way.
Where she made her first mistake was remembering that she had left an item in one of her paintings and popping away real quick to retrieve it.
How could she have known that she would attract the attention of a psychopath with basically an agent of war in their hands?
She went about her business with the kind of single mindless only a tired new mom could have, unaware that someone was following her at a comfortable distance while they prepared themselves.
Mayo? Check. Aspirin? Check. Milk, Diapers, and wipes? Check, check, and check.
She paused in the cereal isle to try and remember what ridiculous brand it was that her husband liked again. Crunchypuffs? Cookiepuffs? Poofycrunchycookiepuffs? Why where there so many damn versions of the same thing?!
"Excuse me..."
Shelby turned toward the voice and found a woman standing a little bit too close to her with a warm, strange smile on her face.
"Can I help you?" She smiled back, but it may have been obvious that it was fake. She hated talking to people while shopping. Who didn't hate talking in stores?
"You have very tired looking eyes. You must have had a pretty hard life for someone already so young."
...Wh... what the hell? The Artist gaped at the woman mutely for a second. Who ran up on a stranger to assassinate their appearance like that!? Was she being trolled??
"I have never-- who the hell--- RUDE. Holy shit RUDE." Her cheeks colored in a way they didn't often seeing as she was a rather chill person naturally, but she needed to defend herself here or else... I dunno... she'd lose her mommabear card or something.
At the very least she needed to get a jab or two in so she wouldn't feel so bad later while nursing a pint of ice cream.
Speaking of, that was totally the next aisle she was hitting up because damn.
"It's okay though. No need to lose your temper, my dear. The future is bright for our kind, past and present."
On shit, she was a nutjob. There was no point arguing with a nutjob unless you wanted to get stabbed.
"I don't know what kinda Illuminati flat-earth bull@#$% you're peddling, but I don't want any koolaid right now thank you."
She turned to try and speed walk her cart away like any sane person would so, when she felt a sharp pain explode to life in the thigh closest to the crazy.
HOLY@$%^ SHE GOT STABBED.
She actually stabbed her! It had been a joke!
The artist stumbled, distracted by the sight of a goddamn syringe buried to the hilt in her thigh. Weird squeaking tumbled out in place of words, and in a panicked last ditched effort to escape she reached for the necklace dangling from her neck where one of her pocket worlds was carefully painted.
...
She never made it,
That same reaching hand slapped onto the linoleum with the rest of her as things gradually started to go dark.
Like someone had snapped and with it taken a couple years worth of memories, her current self floundered in rushing darkness briefly, before it swallowed her whole.
And with that Shelby Walters, age 28, mother of one and wife of Saphirus, was gone....
- - - - - - - -
Gradually, she started to come back. She blinked and her eyes felt sticky and ached. Her head hurt... no, scratch that, most of her hurt. ? What was she doing on the ground? Why were people running past her a million miles an hour?
Gradually, she realized that the sounds she was hearing around her were the sounds of chaos and she recalled what she had been doing last. A protest! She must have gotten knocked out somehow. Had Olivia dragged her somewhere safe?
She reached up to touch her lips, feeling dizzy and suddenly giddy at the same time. Olivia had just kissed her. Her! Boring old Shelby who wasn't colorful or exciting in the least. Her beautiful, wonderful friend and crush had grabbed her amidst the rush of bodies around them and kissed her.
Maybe she had died and this was some abstract form of heaven.
She needed to find Olivia!
Throwing herself up into a sitting position proved to be the worst possible idea. "Ah! @#$$%!" She discovered that there was a syringe jammed in her leg, and she couldn't fathom why it was there. She felt a bit like Ace Ventura for a moment sitting there with something stabbed into her, hands hovering uselessly at the sides of it cause she didn't know whether to take it out or leave it in, screaming into the void in her head while squeals and gurgles actually came out her mouth.
"OW."
It was all very distracting and not at all welcome.
"Oooh, fixer-upper! I likey." She could get her hand's dirty painting and really making the house their own. "I will concede you an Owlbear Man cave, so long as you agree not to start wearing capes or digging under the foundation." She paused, "No Gull boy sidekicks, either."
She shot him a dirty look at the twenty kids comment. "I thought we agreed no more than fifteen!" She shot back. "My uterus isn't a congo line for babies!" Her glare developed into laugher only a moment later, and she laid back to enjoy the rest of the day with him.
--
"That was the worst decision I have ever made," Shelby stated loudly and miserably to the whole two of them in the car, while she sat in the driver's seat. "I am never letting you convince me to do that on a beach ever again." She shot her husband a dirty look from the sides of her eyes, a full-on pout in pace on her lips. She was slightly sunburned and itchy, and her hair was stringy from ocean water.
They were pulling off the freeway into Seattle, which was just as congested as she remembered it. She was back in her element. "First stop is the hotel, a shower, food, and then we can go out and about." Someone honked at her a millisecond after the light turned green. She stuck her hands out the window to double flip them off before moving.
Two hours later she was fresh-faced and belly full.
"Well, what should we do first oh beloved husband of mine?"
Shelby really probably should have patted his back and offered him a napkin, or maybe worried about the water in his nose or... or something.
"PPFFTAHAHAAHAHAH!"
Instead, she was laughing at him. On her back, legs kicking with her arms around her middle. Chortling and snorting at all his pain and suffering. She even cried a little.
After that subsided and she rolled over on her side to deal with aftermath cramps, she couldn't help but grin at him. "I think he faster we get a place the better. Gotta set up the baby's room and settle in before I pop it out and our lives get turned upside down."
They still didn't know what they were having. The first ultrasound hadn't been clear enough, so they were waiting until it was a little bigger to try again.
"I'd like a bigger place... one we can grow into instead of having to move out in a few years. Like... four or five bedrooms. An attic. a basement. Attached garage. All the shmancy stuff." She propped her head up on her hand, fully hoarding the beach towel now.
Her smile was full of adoration when she looked at him again. "What are you looking for in a place? What's your dream home, babe?"
