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 11, 2015 17:56:16 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
Jaager Worldwide had a respectable skyscraper downtown. Jiri craned his neck back and back, and watched the reflection of clouds going past its windows. Very modern, very stylish. A little intimidating. Was he dressed okay? He was wearing black slacks and a white shirt, he'd even borrowed a tie from one of the older kids, but it felt like he was playing dress up more than anything. The closest he'd come to stepping foot in a corporate office was going into a bank. This was on a whole different scale.
He was totally getting class credit for this.
He'd peppered every mutant-run business in town with emails, in the hopes that someone had a soft spot for li'l mutie high schoolers doing a school project. Little fish, big fish, he'd hit them all--Java Jimmy's, Insomniacs Anonymous, Faust Pharmaceuticals...
And one of the biggest fish by far, Jaager Worldwide.
He'd dropped a hook baited with corn off a dock, and reeled in a lake monster. Mr. Jaager's PR department had been thrilled to hear from him, had informed them of their continuing campaign to connect with local schools and charities and put a human face on their business, and would Tuesday at 9:30 work for him, because Mr. Jaager had a cancellation and Madeline could slot him in--
It had happened really, really fast. With corporate efficiency. He took a moment to finger comb his hair in his reflection off the lobby windows, then pushed through the spinning doors. Cool air greeted him inside, and polished tiles, and air-quality-friendly potted plants tucked between casually artistic arrangements of chairs. He would not be surprised to find a koi pond somewhere in here. It looked like that kind of place.
He straightened his tie, hiked his backpack further up his shoulder, and approached the front desk.
"Umm, they said to ask for Madeline? Mr. Jaager's secretary? I'm Jiri. O'Leary. His nine-thirty?"
The receptionist gave him an off course smile, and called upstairs. He barely had time to sit in the offered chair before the elevator doors dinged open and a tiger walked out.
A white tiger in a black business suit. The employee badge clipped at her waist marked her as Madeline. She walked like a jungle in stiletto heels, and shook his head with immaculately groomed fur and just a hint of claws against his wrist.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. O'Leary. We've got you set up in the Midgard conference room."
" 'Set up'?" He trailed her back into the elevator.
Her smile was a flash of perfectly straight, perfectly inhuman teeth. "PR prefers if you use their camera. Better resolution than the one you've been using. Do you need make up?"
"Umm no, I usually stay behind the--"
"Good," a single claw clickpunctuated the word, as she pressed the button for their floor. "I abhor men who hide behind makeup, don't you?"
"Umm." Ummmmm. The doors dinged open again.
"Right this way, Mr. O'Leary."
He followed her stripped tail down the hall, to where a team of techies had already set up a laptop and camera for him. Yeah. Yeah, they did look a lot better than his. He tucked his bag down at his feet as he sat in one of the leather chairs, and slid it out of sight under the table.
"Water? Coffee?"
"Tea?" Jiri asked.
"Tea." Her teeth flashed again. "Mr. Jaager will be right with you."
"Okay." Okay. The tiger woman sashayed out, and techies unconsciously scrambled to give her a respectful space as they finished the hook up.
If that was the secretary, what was Jaager? A force of nature?
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 16:38:00 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
This was some kind of punishment. The kind of punishment that had plausible deniability: where if he tried calling anyone on it, they'd give him their what could you possibly be talking about faces.
His first interview with the staff of Xavier's was Maya Csendes. Ghost. The greeter who had possessed his body during a tour. And he couldn't even talk about that with people, because they were just like, well did you start it? And he would have to say yes but that was not the point. He didn't care if it was hypocritical, what he did was at least sort of natural. What she did was like--like--like taking a steak out of the fridge and gluing googly eyes to it and cutting it down the middle and sticking her hand in for a puppet show. It was not right. Or okay.
But he had to interview her, because this was clearly some sort of psychological warfare perpetrated by the Mansion's counselor, aimed at making him give up before he'd even started. If he turned this one down, made excuses, all of the other staff and X-Men would find excuses, too. He knew it.
Jiri clattered and clunked around the social studies room, making way more noise then necessary as he set up his lone laptop and its webcam. He dragged desks around just because he could and he wasn't going to put them back afterwards, either. They wanted him to film this in a nice normal looking classroom, with the picturesque Mansion lawn out the window behind her? Fine. Sure. But someone was going to have to fix this room up first period on Monday and it wasn't going to be him.
Eventually he ran out of ways to ruin the room's feng shui, and sat in a desk, his leg twitching as he read through the preliminary questions. People were so excited to talk to Ms. Csendes. Apparently she used to run a hippy bookstore and her husband was a literal unicorn. It was a little sickening, how readily the internet bought in to her innocent face.
Don't worry, internet. Jiri would be the one asking questions, here.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 14:32:50 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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35
Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
That was supposed to be the easy question. Everyone already knew the answer to that one: she was Aura because she did things with her aura. It was pink. That was supposed to be the easy, no-baggage-attached question.
Instead they'd started things off with her leader--Lady Miracle?--cutting little girl's spines in half, imprisonment, and oh yes everyone died at the end.
She then proceeded to answer the question about her skunk, without much change in tone. She sounded a little sad for one, a little happy for the other, but she switched between them with no hesitation. Jiri stared at the squirming skunk in her hands, and wondered if poker face even began to cover it.
The internet seemed to reflect his confusion: a ton of questions about her past cropped up, as well as... others. In the same way he sometimes felt eyes on the back of his head, he felt Lisa's smile, just out of sight.
With great discretion, he picked the questions that seemed safest. Or at least, most likely to reflect well on the young woman in front of him. He kept his eyes safely on his laptop screen as he read, buying himself some time to figure out how he was supposed to react to her.
"How old were you when the, ah, school yard incident happened? Were you being bullied?"
"When you say 'locked away' do you mean like in a jail, or somewhere else? Did you have a fair trial?"
...And the third most popular question, because the internet did not have priorities (Jiri preemptively facepalmed on behalf of humanity and mutants alike, staring through his fingers to read it):
"What is the skunk's name, and can they be litter box trained like real cats."
He did not read that one like a proper question. That did not deserve to be a proper question.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 14:00:29 GMT -6
Noel likes this
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
The whole "stupid humanity is stupid starting up the stupid stalker bots program" thing could help break that faith in humanity a bit, as well, while also giving her non-human targets to pound. It's only a little side step from that to pounding the flesh bags, as well~
Jiri probably won't be of any use, but once Panu's up and running, if you want him to make your life miserable in a million little ways and fray her nerves just because he can, that could be arranged. <3
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 8:46:40 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
Victor sighed the sigh of Jiri's victory.
"Yes." A little first-air-pump was in order. He'd totally made his first non-Mansion recruit for this project. Miss Taylor was going to groan so loud when she heard and it was going to be awesome because this was a good idea.
Victor could cross his arms all he wanted, he'd agreed. And responsible adults did not go back on their word to kids.
"I'll see you Saturday, then. Noon-ish? I'll totally meet you in the foyer. Just, ah, come on up, ring the intercom. I'll let the staff know you're coming."
This was his cue to run off before the guy changed his mind. Because responsible adults were prone to doing that, if you gave them a chance.
He had a feeling he was forgetting something, as he waved.
It didn't occur to him until a half block away. That whole pick pocketed thing. The don't have money for the bus thing. That. He almost turned back, but there was no way he was trying to bum another two bucks off this guy. He really would get punched.
...He sipped his lemonade, and walked home. The walk of victory.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 8:22:58 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
That was not a no, which meant that it was a yes. So said every teenager ever.
Jiri's grin broadened. "Awesome. Then all we have to do is pick a date, so I can let people online know when to expect you. We can do it at Xavier's, your place, or pretty much wherever. It just needs to be somewhere quiet, with an internet connect. I'll bring the computer and webcam. You just need to bring yourself."
So maybe not Victor's place, if he lived with the three kids. As awesome as kids were, putting them in a room with a camera and an audience was like giving them permission to be as goofy as they could manage. Well, maybe not Sophia--she was definitely at that age where she was trying to be the most mature kid to ever mature--but the other two. And Victor might not want his family in the other room while he was answering questions, either. For some reason, talking to strangers on the internet was a lot easier than talking to people who actually cared about you, sometimes.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 8:03:25 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
Victor had a good laugh. Like listening to a big cask of aged scotch rumbling, or something. Deep and rich. Kind of at odds with what he was saying, but kind of not--like it was in the past, and part of him, now. Or something. He was taking that metaphor way too far.
He snorted a laugh at the guy's counter-suggestion. "Or they're just that dumb," Jiri agreed.
>> "But, I get the feeling your about to spout another idea. Go on, let's hear it."
The teen realized his grin had been inching wider and wider with every word out of the big guy's mouth. Just a regular guy, yes, do go on. Hold down a job just like everyone else, my, how fascinating. Family and friends, not just your mutation, you don't say.
"So," Jiri said, drawing out the syllable: sooooo. "I'm doing sort of a project for class. I go to that mutant school, Xavier's. And they're all about getting humans and mutants to understand each other, right? Except they've been trying to do it by throwing vigilantes at crime and cleaning up parks. It's not, like, real stuff." Because who did that stuff for real?
"So I've kind of started going around and getting people on tape, answering questions from humans. It's a livechat thing, like reddit with a camera but more polite, if that makes any sense. So that humans can ask questions they'd chicken out about if they were really talking with us and they can see mutants answering like totally normal people. So. Umm. Would you be interested?"
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 7:10:32 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
He was just going to keep saying stupid things around this guy, wasn't he? 2010. If he was 16-ish in 2010, then he was (com'on summer school math) 21-ish now? Not thirtyish, or fortyish.
Jiri took a moment to face palm. "Should I just, like, get one of those Hello my name is blank stickers, and put sorry on it? You're just so... you're really big, and all responsible, and big, and you apparently have good self control if you haven't hit me yet because I'm apparently going to keep giving you reasons." He slid the hand down his face with all due teenage drama, until it flopped at his side.
But the guy--the young, not much older than him guy--continued to be cool about this. Which was a good thing, since according to Sophia, lighting him on fire was a legit option here. Not that he wouldn't have deserved it.
He tried for a grin. "To be fair, no one's ever going to ask for your ID at a liquor store." If they did, they would supplant Jiri in the running for a Darwin award.
"Did they really?" Jiri asked, with regards to the museum. "Look on the bright side, I guess: if they were staring"--and hadn't the little girl mentioned something about people taking photos of him, before?--"then it means you come off as, ah, approachable. If you weren't, they'd just run screaming."
"You know, it's exactly this kind of thing I was talking about with the responsible-adult-types at my school." They were not teachers. They were, what... a guidance counselor, a guy-girl-thing that ran around with an X on his/her chest, and a ghost-person whose possession powers were even creepier than his? None of them were teachers. Staff was as far as he was willing to go, and he wasn't even sure on that. "Ordinary people need to just talk with mutants like you more. Not going to lie, you're pretty stare-worthy. But, like, you're okay to talk with too, right? And it's way easier to just talk with you than stare, now."
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 0:39:49 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
"Esta doe uni wha?" The teen tried, and failed, to repeat. "How does that shorten to 'gringo'?" It wasn't a real question, more of an exclamation. Languages were weird.
He realized he'd been holding his lemonade for a few minutes now without actually taking a sip. His hands were cold from the ice, and a little wet from the sides sweating. He wiped a hand against his pants, and gave it a try.
...Really not bad, for a random street vendor.
He shuffled his feet a little. "So I keep saying sorry, but I haven't said thanks. For being pretty cool about me being not-at-all-cool. You're less terrifying than I'd have guessed." He gave Sophia a courteous nod. "Though I guess if I'd listened to the lady here, I'd have figured that out awhile ago."
He took another sip, and shifted the cup to his other hand so he could regain feeling in his fingertips. "You've really looked like that since you were my age? What was that, like, the eighties? How do you deal with people being as stupid as me?" He didn't ask about the ones that were even stupider. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Two things should have been readily apparent after that. First, that Jiri was honestly curious. Second, that he was taking it for granted that Victor was way older than he actually was.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 11, 2015 0:12:50 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
She said she didn't have much to hide, and Jiri's shoulders relaxed another fraction. Nothing to hide meant nothing to be ashamed of, and that meant she had a clear conscience, right? So there was a reason behind what she'd done--the things she'd been accused of doing--something that explained it all. That was good to know. Really good. He was actually feeling a little... was excited the right word, when a part of him was still a little terrified? But he wanted to hear what she had to say.
She reminded him of Alex, in a way--how she seemed so open about all this, so ready to talk to someone.
He laughed at her joke--break him out? She made it sound like the Mansion was a prison. She had a great poker face, just like he'd thought: if he didn't know better, he'd think she was dead serious about literally breaking him out of school. Good to know she had a sense of humor.
He jumped a little as her power trickled down her fingertips, but flashed a smile. "I'm not really here to judge you, or anything. I'm just the guy that reads the questions, so don't worry about me."
"If you're ready, then..." He waited for her acknowledgement, then flipped on the webcam. "Umm, hello there, Internet. This is InvasionOfTheBS, from the Audubon X forum. I've got Aura here with me. I see people have been putting up questions already, but yeah. We're officially open for business, here."
"First question, and I think you've already demonstrated this for me, but maybe you could for the people at home? Why did you pick the codename Aura?"
Like he said, they were starting easy. He had a few more questions in the same vein, things to help both of them feel relaxed, just like she'd said.
"I don't know if everyone can see," he reached up, and tried to angle the webcam a little bit, "But we've got an extra guest with us. So, umm, you've got a skunk for a pet? What's up with that? And should I be worried?"
"Why did you agree to this chat? What are you hoping to get out of it?"
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 10, 2015 23:38:09 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
"Naps are amazing," Jiri sighed, like a blind man sighing over the color blue. "That's kind of what activates my power, though. And you really, really don't want me taking you over."
Had he mentioned he was a body snatcher? He couldn't remember, really. But they'd talked about him being a mutant already, so probably.
He nodded as the big guy spoke. Cancel cards? No problem there, he wasn't really old enough to have cards. How old did this guy think he was? Was he one of those adults so old that he'd forgotten how to gauge kid's ages? Probably. He seemed pretty substantially learned.
The only thing he really needed was a new school ID, and to grieve the lose of his twenty-some dollars of allowance money in private.
"What does 'gringo' mean? You keep calling me that."
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 10, 2015 23:09:12 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
The sigh said it all. Disappointment, mingled with just a hint of fulfilled expectations. That sigh said of course the dumbass kid can't even follow through on buying apology lemonade.
Jiri had the irrational urge to put his own cup back on the counter, but it wasn't like he could get a refund for the guy. He'd just be making a scene. Worse, he'd be turning down a drink that Victor hadn't wanted, but had paid for anyway, because he was a genuinely okay sort of guy.
Unlike Jiri. The teenager wasn't even willing to peg himself as an okay guy, right now.
The chuckle just drove home the point: never should have trusted the flakey teenager.
"Somebody picked my pocket I forgot I am so sorry I can't even buy lemonade right have I mentioned I haven't slept in forever and now I'm making excuses I'm sorry." It came out more like one very long word than a sentence, and he didn't make eye contact for any of it. He just stood there, holding his medium-sized lemonade in both hands, really wishing there was a rock he could crawl under to die.
And he hadn't even dealt with getting back to the Mansion, yet. Walking. Walking seemed the least shameful route, at this point. He really, really didn't want to try to explain his lack of basic street smarts to the Mansion staff.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 10, 2015 22:48:29 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
She wasn't at all what he'd expected, actually. Maybe he was an ass to have expected what he'd expected (what had he expected?), but she wasn't it.
He rose as the door opened. The young woman who entered was... well, cute. And pretty normal. She was shorter than him by a few inches, which was startling--he'd grown up seeing her on the news, and here she was, and he was taller. Everything about her was neat and tidy: she could have just as easily been a young businesswoman fresh from a meeting as a... well, as who she really was. Her smile was actually pretty cute, and he flushed a little in response as he offered his hand.
"Ms. Whilver? Sorry, Aura. I'm Jiri O'Leary. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Unexpectedly, it was. Maybe more surprising than pleasant, but he suddenly felt more optimistic about this interview. Maybe Lisa really was right: maybe there was a story here, something he really could help get out to the public. Set the record straight.
Also she was carrying a skunk. At first his brain tried to process it as a small dog, some kind of obscure mutt--but no, when she sat down and he had a chance to really look at it, it was definitely a skunk.
That was a little weird, admittedly, but even having a pet skunk helped distance her from the image he'd built up in his mind from news reels. Her eyes roved over everything in the room. There wasn't much to see--besides the two arm chairs and the little side table where his laptop and webcam rested, it was pretty bare. Just him and her. He took the action as a nervous one, even though she didn't look outwardly nervous. But with her history, it would make sense if she'd developed a good poker face.
"Do you have any questions before we start? I figured we'd do a few easy questions first, then start looking through the ones the internet is throwing out. Keep in mind you don't have to answer any of them, the last time I did this, some were really silly, and some were a little... sensitive. If you want to skip a question, just say so."
He flashed a little grin, some of his own nervousness showing through. "The Mansion isn't going to know about this until we go live. What are they going to do? Ground me?"
He admitted that some of the staff were cool. The counselor had a good head on her. But adults were still adults, and they really didn't know what was best, sometimes. This was for their own good.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Aug 10, 2015 22:20:55 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
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Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
Okay. Buy lemonade, apologize three or four more times, then awkwardly part ways and never see this guy again. That was the plan. It was a good plan.
The stand was nearby. The usual corndogs-and-pop kind of place. Jiri ordered five: three smalls, one medium, one large. Not to be size-ist, but Victor looked like a large. Jiri handed the cups down the the little ones, then got out his wallet.
Umm. Then he got out his wallet. Which was in his left pocket. Right pocket? Back left. Back right.
Oh. He remembered. And he froze, not willing to make eye contact with the guy in the stand, and definitely not daring to meet Victor's eyes. Eye.
What did he even say? 'I got mugged but forgot about it'? He'd forgotten because Victor had scared him way more than a little pocket picking. 'Hey I know I promised to pay, but I guess it's on you,' and Jiri had ordered one for himself, so now the guy had to pay for one more than he'd even been planning on. And the guy had already been complaining about money.
Jiri was rapidly turning red. Redder-than-Victor-red. Was there a way to die of mortification? Jiri was finding that easier to do than speak.
