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 Jiri O'Leary on Aug 12, 2015 11:04:34 GMT -6
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"I know! And this was just in the presets. 'Simulation 46: Random Beach Paradise.' I've been flipping through things for, like, an hour, and I'm still not sure how high the numbers go. And apparently you can customize, but you're supposed to have a staff member help you for that. I'm barely old enough for the system to let me in without 'adult supervision.' " Air quotes surrounded that bit of institutionalized lamery. Jiri kicked off his shoes, and ran a few feet down the beach to splash in the water. Because they had holodeck water. He could tell at a glance that Victor would understand; he was practically turning orange with excitement. There would things that could go unspoken between Trekkies. (Jiri was more of a Star Wars guy, actually, but there was no need to ruin the moment.)
"My science teacher tried to say this place was all light holograms and robotics, but the student bets are on a mix of technomancers and reality warpers locked up in the basement. I'm pretty sure the government doesn't know about this because how would they not have requisitioned this place by now?" Forget war games and military training and all that boring stuff, what US Senator wouldn't want to spend his lunch break in this place? "And we could totally be filming movies here. Maybe that's where they actually get their funding, because as far as I can tell, only Hollywood studios and Columbia cartels could actually supply enough cash to keep this place running, especially with all the constant remodeling." Jiri, too, had read their wiki page.
Jiri was babbling and he knew it. But he was also proving a point: he wasn't just a kid who stared at people like Victor, he was a kid who stared at everything. And in here, there were way cooler things to stare at.
The teenager grinned at his guest. "We should probably get started. But if you want to give the computer some programming requests first, I would completely understand." They had to set the stage, right?
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 12, 2015 10:23:44 GMT -6
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>> "Politeness can go a long way too. I've never met someone who was polite and forgiving who couldn't get along with someone else."
...Was that a crack at him? He was pretty sure that was a crack at him. Her glitter just seemed more focused while her zephyr was saying it. Maybe it was paranoia, but there was something about the physical pressure of her wind that seemed like, just for a moment, she was pointing right at him.
Apparently the puppy question was just as indecipherable to her. She took a long time swirling it over, and then gave sort of a half-assed generic answer, in a weird reedy voice. Maybe it was just the reflection of her source-less sound waves off the confetti making her sound.
He wondered, just a little, how badly a sparkly purple pineapple could hurt if she tornadoed with it. The confetti had seemed so much more funny and harmless at the store.
The subway question had seemed more harmless on his laptop, too. Was she... going to cry? What would that even be, a rain cloud?
Oh god the puppy was her child. He didn't know she had a kid, how was he supposed to know she had a kid, he'd been spending every waking moment at the Mansion spending a discrete amount of energy to avoid her. He'd tried to do silly questions and he'd totally screwed up and--
And now she was condensing. He'd been joking about the rain cloud. Right? That wouldn't actually happen?
He pressed mute on the microphone settings, and put a hand over the webcam.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 12, 2015 9:52:44 GMT -6
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
He wasn't sure if the crack in her voice would show up on video. It was so small, so quiet. It didn't show on her face in the least. Were people getting this? Like, really getting this? Or were they just sitting there, treating this like reality TV?
He found a question both he and Lisa approved of. One that he suspected he might know the answer to.
"Did you kill anyone when you were having flashbacks?"
"Were you still a minor when you came to New York?"
"Did anyone in law enforcement ever try reaching out to talk to you about getting counseling instead of going to jail, or something?"
He was pretty sure he knew the answer to that one, too. This was... this was really messed up, wasn't it? His sickness was starting to twist into something else, and he wasn't sure what.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 12, 2015 9:04:38 GMT -6
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
The sweets sounds of Coco Cabana coming from a few old speakers strung from palm trees was interrupted by a buzz.
"Your guy's here, Jiri."
He wasn't sure how, exactly, one went about hitting the reply button in this room. He settled for shouting up at the artistically wispy clouds in the azure sky. "Thanks! Computer, ah, door? But hold the settings for when I get back?"
A little chirp accompanied the opening of a door. The mansion's hallway appeared at the entrance to a little pineapple-themed drink hut. Jiri scampered out.
"Victor! You came!" Not that he'd had any doubts. Nope. "We're down in the basement. Ever see Star Trek?" That might sound like a non sequitur, but it wasn't. This would become really obvious when they'd gone down a half flight, walked a bit down the hall, and found a sunny beach scene waiting for them inside a subterranean doorway.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 12, 2015 8:50:16 GMT -6
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
There was a weird, hypnotic disconnect between her words and her actions. The glitter kept on moving, tracing shapes and patterns that were almost beautiful before falling apart like a careless toddler walking through a sand castle.
She sounded like she was calming down, but it was hard to tell. There was no face to reference, no body language. The glitter rage cloud was a poor substitute. Jiri continued to speak slowly, carefully, and respectfully, just in case. It seemed like she'd almost vacuumed all the air out of the room for a moment, there, and he was a little worried that the internet wouldn't figure out what had happened if she killed him off screen. Twice he had met her, and twice he'd been left feeling like he was really, really, really far out of his depths. Some mutants were just inherently terrifying.
Also apparently the magical healer unicorn was an evil illegal alien. That was... he would crack a joke, but the internet was way ahead of him, and he didn't want to die.
He was very glad she couldn't see his computer screen, or she'd know that evil unicorns had just become a meme. The chat was still working out how to gussy them up: villain moustaches? sombreros? glitter clouds? all of the above?
More safe questions. He could do this. He could survive.
"How do I get mutants to like me?"
"Why did an incorporeal aeromancer and an equine healer have a puppy?" He didn't actually get that one--sounded like a the start to a joke--but puppies seemed like a safe enough topic, so he read it.
"Can you comment on whether your husband is or is not the evil unicorn behind the subway bombing a few years ago." And that one was just too silly to possibly be real. Maybe she'd laugh? Maybe?
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 12, 2015 8:30:53 GMT -6
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
He wondered if Lisa had some way of sickening him where he sat. She was no doubt watching the interview--livestream, after all, and it was all too easy to picture it up on one of her double monitors as she worked on other things in her main screen. Maybe she was a mutant, and the growing sense of... of the dryness in the back of his throat and the way all his muscles were tense even though he wasn't doing anything and the this is just wrong feeling was some sort of doom-power.
Or maybe that was just a perfectly normal reaction to hearing a girl a handful of years older than him casually relate how she'd been kidnapped, literally brainwashed, and... what? Used for mutant experimentation? Something?
There was a term in his lit class he'd never quite grasped until now. Unreliable narrator. When someone was telling things straight, but you still had no idea if what they were saying was true. She was straight up saying it might all be a lie.
"How do you live with that?" Jiri blurted out. He wasn't looking at the questions on his screen, he was looking at the young woman across from him. "I mean, have you tried to track down records and stuff, figure out what's actually true and what's just a mutant messing with your head? I just..." He just didn't know how to finish that thought. He just... didn't.
It was around then that he noticed her aura. There still wasn't much emotion on her face, not as much as he would have expected, but the eddies and currents of her power were speaking volumes.
Jiri swallowed, and returned to the safety of reading what other people wrote. He tried to scan for easy questions, ones that wouldn't cause bubblegum pink and nightmare fodder to hold the same place in his mind, but it he was starting to grasp the fact that he knew nothing about this girl. Not about who she was, not about how she'd react.
A little voice in the back of his mind was just starting to worry that maybe she didn't know, either. Not even the skunk's name was a safe topic--that dredged up a dead friend, apparently, and reminded her of other friends lost.
How did she live like this? With a skunk as her closest companion?
The psycho killing sprees were starting to make a lot more sense.
Safe questions, safe questions...
No, he was not reading anything else about the skunk, or asking who Solkat was. No no no he was not asking her to take off her shirt, shut up internet. So what did that leave him?
"How do you go shopping when everyone knows who you are? Is it hard or do you just walk in and people are oblivious?"
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 12, 2015 8:03:14 GMT -6
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"Where is it safe to throw around fireballs in the Mansion?"
This simple question had left his chemistry teacher looking alarmed. Really alarmed. As if he hadn't heard that one before, in a school full of mutants. To be fair, he probably hadn't heard it from the lips of a body snatcher.
Come to think of it, the freshman who could light his hands on fire was looking a little alarmed from where he sat, too.
"Danger Room," the teacher said. It was the same tone people would use to say BOMB, or GOD NO.
"No way, nu-uh, I will buy you coffee if I have to but you stay awake," the fire kid hurried to add.
Jiri's shoulders slumped under the weight of all their trust. "It's not for you. It's for a... friend."
The hesitation did not seem to reassure them. But it was. For a... friend. His friend's name was Victor, he was an eight foot tall four-armed cyclops monster, and there was no conceivable way that the internet would not ask him to throw around a few fireballs. Jiri was being safe and responsible, thinking ahead.
The Danger Room it was, then.
He'd warned the guy manning the gate intercom that Victor was coming, and he'd asked to be intercomed himself when he arrived so he could run upstairs to greet him. In the mean time... he had dragged two wheelie chairs and a real, physical card table into the room to set his real, physical laptop on top of. Because he did not trust this holographic voodoo.
But he admitted it was fun to play with. "Computer, switch to Simulation 43," Jiri called out. The space around him briefly flickered back to reality: a large, empty space, metal walls with a grid pattern. Just as suddenly, he was standing in a forest. His shoes sunk in to a mass of old pine needles, and a breeze tinged with the first chill of winter brushed gently through his hair.
"Simulation 44." A desert. The sun beat down on him. Should he show this one to Alex?
"Simulation 45." An awesome post-apocalyptic New York, with trees bursting up through cracks in the pavement of Times Square.
"Simulation 46." A balmy beach scene, with white sand as far as the eye could see, and gently lapping waves from a crystal blue ocean. The sun was warm overhead.
Ehehehe this place was awesome and he was never leaving again.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 12, 2015 7:23:00 GMT -6
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
Holy crap, they were actually going for it. The Morris obviously didn't like it, but the counselor was being surprisingly cool about it. It restored his faith in adults, in part--proved they could understand a good, reasonable idea when they saw one. Now if they could have started this meeting by looking for solutions instead of poking pitchforks at Alex, that would have been great.
As his roommate spoke, Jiri crossed his arms, and nodded agreement. "I could not have put it better myself. Divide and conquer, for sure. We can do the X-Men, the staff, I can see if any of the mutant-lead businesses want some PR, and--" and look into other criminals. Umm. Maybe he shouldn't actually say that one out loud; it seemed like the sort of thing that would set the adults off again. "--and get different perspectives, like Alex said. Lots of different people, different mutations. Yeah." Yeeeeah. Wholesome, responsible, Mansion-approved perspectives.
Miss Taylor's ground rules were pretty solid. Jiri nodded. "We can work with those. No more minors without approval, let the internet be silly and distracting, be smart about this. Check, check, and check."
He wasn't sure how much he agreed with her proposed lack of substance--but actually, yeah, a video of a mutant doing something silly would spread faster than a video about a mutant discussing politics. Fair point. It just took him a moment to think that one through.
"You're pretty smart, Miss Taylor," the teen said, flashing a grin. The Morris clone wasn't included.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 12, 2015 7:12:19 GMT -6
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
Heck no it's not! *adds Justin to the list* I need to wait for one or two more to wind down, but these seem to be quick threads, so it shouldn't be too long. <3
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 23:21:19 GMT -6
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
It was nice to work with someone who understood basic technology, for once. Alex hadn't even grasped the concept that a live chat could be recorded, and Ghost hadn't been able to identify a webcam when it was literally right in front of her. Mr. Jaager had sort of a patient you don't need to be explaining this, but I'm too polite to interrupt air that was really, really refreshing. Finally, he was among a digital peer.
His answer to the 'young CEO' question was so by the book that Jiri couldn't help but give a lop-sided grin over the camera. The sort of knowing grin that said between you and me, how much of that was scripted by PR? It was even framed like a speech: the 'hard work' thesis came first, accompanied by its supporting bullet points of humility, legacy, and tragedy. And let's not forget the subtle 'Murica! worked in, there. A true thing of beauty. Jiri leaned back, hands crossed over his stomach, admiring the work of an expert orator. It was a little worrying, actually. If Mr. Jaager kept up the perfect business man poise, it would be a good PR segment, but it wouldn't get passed around much outside the people currently present at the chat. PC soundbites didn't make videos go viral--
Was he
He was actually
Jiri held his breath, along with the rest of The Internet.
He was
He sighed first like he understood exactly how stupid this was and then he did it anyway, that sigh made everything so much better.
Ambrose Jaager, twenty-five, CEO of a globe-spanning corporation, took of his shirt. One little button at a time. And his suit, and his tie. He folded them neatly where the camera could see and sat back down, his wings doing nothing to hide dem abs. The chat's words, not Jiri's. Just to be clear.
What a smug, confident bastard.
Jiri wanted to be him when he grew up.
"Mr. Jaager," the teenager said, not even caring when his voice cracked a little in the middle. "On behalf of the internet, let me proclaim our viewers very happy."
There was a surge of questions and comments. Jiri tried, very hard, to keep the laughter out of his voice as he cherry picked a few.
"Now that you're comfortable again, Mr. Jaager, we have some new questions. Ahem:"
"Does your PR department recommend tattoo artists that can do your wings, I want some."
"What music do you want on the video of that suit coming off, I'm editing the clip right now."
"Cherry blossom petals or anime sparkles in the background, I'm editing it too."
"Do you have a license to hunt fan girls or was that poaching?"
Madeleine was behind were Jiri sat, so he didn't see her sign. It was just as well--there was very little keeping him from dissolving into laughter right now, and he didn't know if he'd be able to stop once he'd started.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 22:58:31 GMT -6
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He loved how matter-of-fact she was about the unicorn husband. She didn't even look up from poking through the confetti; it looked like she had more attention focused on the pink kitten stuck to her fingertip than to the camera. From an outside perspective, Jiri had to admire her dedication, her studiousness in maintaining this facade.
And belatedly, she rejoined the conversation. Was it bad of him that he was laughing so hard on the inside that the only thing coming out of his face was a little glitter of joyful tears?
...Then she got mad. Like, honestly mad. He didn't like her when she was mad.
Behind the laptop, Jiri hunkered down, green eyes wide.
"What is your favorite part of being a mutant," the teenager read, in a quietly terrified voice.
"Cats or dogs, boxers or briefs."
"The Full Circle was always my favorite place to hang out and catch a quiet moment. Why did it close and do you have plans to reopen?"
So apparently unicorns weren't as magical as they were cracked up to be. But hopefully now everyone understood just how scary ghosts were.
"Don't worry, I've got you covered." He'd known the power question would come up. The power question always came up. It was the first thing anyone asked when someone posted about a new mutant: what can they do? Jiri, excellent host that he was, had come prepared. He scrounged in his backpack for a second, then tossed a plastic bag over to Ghost. Confetti. For her showing-up-on-screen pleasure.
...The whole air vent thing gave him pause. Blinking pause. That was, umm, special? Okay, so maybe she had some crazy mutation problems too. But getting caught in an air vent on accident wasn't the same as taking over his body on purpose. Jiri had never taken over anyone on purpose. Minus that psycho clown, but that had been under the supervision of a trained X-Man. So that was like getting permission. She was going to have to try a lot harder if she wanted to make him fall for this ridiculously sweet mask of hers. Seriously, how did people not see through this? She was giving off so many tells that it was all an act.
Like the way she seemed to puff up her chest a little as she answered the next question, like some part of her was proud. Proud as she looked at him over the webcam and freely admitted that she wasn't going to admit to anything. Uh-huh.
Okay. She wanted to play the innocent card? Let's see how long she lasted under this questions.
"Is it true that your husband is a magical unicorn?"
"What's it like riding a unicorn?"
And just in case she was trying to play naive after that last one:
"Is it hard having a husband that so horny all the time?"
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 21:20:55 GMT -6
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Jiri hurried to stand as Mr. Jaager entered, tripping a little over his chair.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir." He accepted the offered hand. Was he shaking too hard? Too soft? Mr. Jaager seemed so nice, so natural, that it made the teenager even more aware of how weird it was to be greeting an international business tycoon.
A few weeks ago--even a few days ago--he might have spent too long staring at the man. Jiri had looked up pictures online, of course, but the man was just... more in person. His wings seemed bigger than they did in corporate photos, his eyes were a wolfish yellow Jiri didn't remember noticing at all before. In person, it was really obvious.
He'd seen worse since he'd come to the Mansion, though, like eight foot tall girls who'd step on a sleeping guy and kids who oozed glue. Heck, it was just a few days ago he'd met Victor. Giant one-eyed four-armed tangerine-colored monster, anyone? There had even been a black dragon on the Mansion grounds that one day. When Jiri still thought he was human, if he'd seen someone like Ambrose Jaager walking down the street, he'd have ever-so-casually crossed to the other side. He felt like he'd built up some kind of tolerance, during his brief time at the Mansion. He could look at a guy with predator eyes and wings that didn't exactly belong to an angel, shake his hand, and think to himself you're not so scary.
Besides, it was hard to be intimidated by Mr. Jaager--he was just so civilized. Plus, Jiri totally had an inch or two on him.
To be fair, the CEO of Jaager Worldwide had a couple hundred dollars on Jiri, when it came to the wardrobe department. So. They could just call that one a wash, then.
He sat when the older man sat. That seemed like the thing to do. The techies were clearing out now, and somehow, sometime, Madeline had slipped a cup of black tea at his elbow without him noticing.
"Yeah," he said. "Basically, keep things light and fluffy, no giving away company secrets or getting into heavy politics, right?"
He waited for the man's response, then got himself logged in, and adjusted the camera a little.
"All right. You ready to go? Remember, the internet can be stupid, so if you want to avoid a question, just facepalm. They'll get it." This brief tutorial on internet etiquette complete, Jiri grinned and took them live.
"Hi again, Internet. InvasionOfTheBS back again. We interrupt our regularly scheduled Xavier interviews to bring you Ambrose Jaager, titan of Jaager International. I see there's kind of a lot of questions piled on already, so remember to upvote things, okay? And don't forget to 'like' Jaager Worldwide on Facebook, and yes the PR people asked me to say that." He grinned a cheeky grin, even though the folks online couldn't see it. The camera was pointed at Mr. Jaager alone, and it was going to stay that way.
"So, Mr. Jaager, first question. 'How did you become a CEO so young?' "
"What's it like being a mutant CEO? Do you get the same respect as humans in your position?"
"mmmmmmmmmm n sorry my cat was typing but that reminds me could you take off your shirt? So we can see your mutation better." Jiri very carefully enunciated that one, to give the full effect of The Internet.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 20:52:30 GMT -6
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Oh. Ooooooh. She was good. That nervous skirt smoothing, that I'm-so-innocent hesitance to her answer, that way her eyes couldn't quite seem to find the camera. She was good and she was trying to paint him as the bad guy here.
But if she wanted to be the good guy, then he could be a good guy two. They've be two body snatching good guys have a friendly internet chat.
"The camera is right here," the teenager helpfully said, tapping his finger on top of the webcam clipped to the top of his computer so she wouldn't have quite as much of an excuse to get all I'm so sweet that I can't even make eye contact with an inanimate object on him.
Jiri chuckled a little. "No mutant ability for naming, huh?" Just a friendly, good-natured rib. "No worries. Let's see what questions we've got coming in... Oh! There's a couple decent ones. Let's see here..."
" 'Could you show us your power?' Pretty standard request."
"Do you use you ever stand in front of a fan and use your power and get shoved across the room."
"Do mutants tell the truth when people ask about their powers, or do they hide stuff so other people don't freak out?"
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 20:11:44 GMT -6
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The woman looked sweet and polite, with her anime-white hair and her breezy-casual skirt and her cute little head bobs.
Fool Jiri once, shame on you, Mrs. Cscendes.
He smiled as she came in because that's what you were supposed to do when adults were helping you. "Yeah, everything's set up. Just waiting for you." She wasn't late but maybe she'd think she was and feel guilty. Yeah. "So, umm, you can sit over--"
>> "Please take care of me."
"Ah... there? You can sit over there." Over there. At the desk he'd dragged away from all the others. "What does that even mean?" He had to ask because what?
"...I'll be over here. You ready to start? Any questions before we do? Okay good." He flicked on the webcam. "Hello, Internet. InvasionOfTheBS here, from the Aububon X forums. I've got Maya Csendes aka Ghost aka That Bookstore Lady here with me. So. Let's get these questions rolling."
"Why the name Ghost? Is it because you possess people?" He managed to keep his voice pretty light and bantering. Just what people would expect from a Mansion kid cracking a joke at a staff member's expense. His grin was a little less polite, and a little more toothy.
