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.
"Why don't you throw yours in for science." Jiri held his remaining shoe close, protecting it from further experimentation.
Fortunately, Alex had gotten the data they needed. A force field, huh? So was it to keep things out, or to keep things in--
The cry that rent the air was of such loss, such despair, as man can but hope to go his life without experiencing. Jiri stood rooted to his shoeless spot for a moment, before sharing a look with the two other boys.
"Men," he said, "We're going in."
With shoe in hand, he aimed for the soft spot Alex had seen. The hedge maze opened up to the right and left around him, the unkempt shrubbery towering higher than he could see. But the shout had been from... left-ish? Maybe? Without knowing what was around each bend, or how the path through this place really went, there was no telling. Maybe the fastest way to go left was really to go right.
An evil cackle boomed through the leafy stillness, followed by another heart-wrenching wail.
Left. Because they had to start somewhere.
"Alex, can you get us a bug's eye on the layout of this place?"
It was totally cheating, but it was for a good cause.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Oct 11, 2015 13:33:21 GMT -6
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"Likewise," Jiri laughed, only a hair nervously. "Zero stalking, promise and pinkie swear."
Number twenty came up to the curb, and he was relieved when they weren't the only ones getting on. Two other Bird Watchers, sitting together in the back. To not make things awkward, and be that guy who assumes a girl he just met wants to spend an entire bus ride talking to him, he took the seat in front of her. So if she wanted to talk, he could totally sit sideways and talk. But if she wanted to just pull out her phone and pop in headphones, then cool, he wouldn't be weirdly staring at the back of her head.
Though now he had to fight the feeling that she was staring at his.
As the stops rolled past, and the other two bird watchers departed, Jiri began to get a bad feeling. A really bad, teakettle coming to boil feeling. His leg twitched up and down, he tried propping his arm on the narrow window sill but it wasn't comfortable so he took it off, he tapped his fingers on his thigh.
Two more stops until the Mansion.
One more. They were the last people on the bus.
And now they were pulling up to the curb, and Jiri was definitely not going to be the first one to move. What, was she trying to photograph nocturnal birds? Or did she actually live around here?
"Mine's the next stop," he said, with a grin.
"End of the line." The bus driver called. "I'm putting on the out of service sign after this. Everyone off."
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Oct 10, 2015 15:04:17 GMT -6
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It rapidly became apparent that Jiri was not walking her to a bus stop, he was walking her to his bus stop. An irrational part of him--the part that tended to fudge the line between dream and reality--urged him to say good night and just keep walking. Pretend he was taking the next stop up. Who knows, maybe he could get on a random bus, and go on crazy hijinks, and--
Yeah that was the sleep deprivation talking. He was going to be a mature adolescent about this, and take his own bus. His actual bus. Besides, who even said they were taking the same exact one? There had to be, like, a bajillion that stopped here. It was downtown New York, after all.
"I'm on the number 20, how about you?" He commented casually. Almost immediately he regretted it: that was the bus heading in a very Xavier-wards direction. But it wasn't like it didn't stop at half a dozen other places, right? So it was cool. Totally fine.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Oct 10, 2015 9:32:53 GMT -6
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Jiri took the coffee cup slid his way as the less than subtle hint it was. He was being rude, he knew he was. He'd asked her to do this, she'd made time in her schedule, and here he was half asleep for it. But honestly? This was just how his stupid power worked. He'd been half asleep since his mutation had come online.
But even by his standards, this was ridiculous.
He tried to sit up straight. He tried to focus and look attentive like a good little web journalist. But as she talked about the definition of 'adapted' and hugging all the problems of the world into submission he kept finding his head
alarmingly close
to the desk
Jiri shook himself, took a gulp of the offered coffee, and started reading the next set.
"Respond to allegations that you were, quote, 'hired to keep mutant children under control,' unquote. AKA, are you secretly a security measure?"
"If it really came down to it, who would you side with, mutants or humans?"
"Are you powers... are your powers... detrimental to mutant childr..."
Some people went blind or mute or lame in Gemma's field. And some finally
finally
FINALLY
got some real sleepzzzzzzzzzzz
Jiri slumped forward, head on desk, looking more peaceful and decidedly more at-home-behind-his-eyelids than he had in months.
oh my god,
the internet helpfully said,
she killed him.
dude this is even better than the psycho ghost interview
i know rite?
I hope she keeps answering questions, I mean, at least until the cops show up.
dude shes totally banging a cop they're just gonna cover this up
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Oct 9, 2015 19:10:32 GMT -6
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Jiri really didn't want to put his hand down that pocket
(except he really did)
Except did she even realize she was telling a teenage boy to touch her ass?
(well if she insisted--)
No. Though it might take all the self control he had ever possessed, Jiri kept his (her) hands to himself.
"I'll take your word for it, Mags," he said. "I'm Jiri, the passenger inside your head tonight. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Yes. Yes he had been talking to him/her/themself where people could hear. Jiri scowled at the money man and that look on his face.
"Oh come on, gramps, you know this isn't the craziest you've ever seen. And you--" he pivoted on a heel, and poked the driver he'd beaten in the chest, "don't even think about starting something, bad or good. If I'm not getting into my pants, then neither are you."
Jiri stuck out a demanding hand. With a certain let's keep the druggie happy raise of his eyebrow, the money guy started counting bills into their hand.
Lots of bills.
And he kept going.
Holy crap, why was he in high school, clearly drag racing was what the smart boys and girls did.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Oct 9, 2015 19:03:05 GMT -6
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The world was like crackled glass. It was more the way things felt, suddenly, then a sight--but there was that, too, at the corner of his vision. The Iranian teen backpeddaled from the terrified woman. In his hand, the flowers dried up, the petals turning gray before flaking off one by one. They turned to dust before they ever reached the ground.
He raised his other hand in the universal teenage gesture of what did I do? combined with it wasn't mewith, with just a smidge of what are you even talking about in the roll of his shoulders.
"Nothing. I didn't do anything. I just, ah, brought flowers. Into your dream."
He hadn't even done anything crazy, and she didn't seem to have a surplus of personalities to clue her in, like his roommate did. There was no way she knew what was going on.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Oct 9, 2015 17:50:05 GMT -6
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Oh, the interwebs would be queried, all right. The interwebs would be queried so hard. If mutant soccer wasn't already a thing, then Jiri may have just found his true calling in life. Take that, Mansion greeter who liked to stifle the dreams of children. And take that, human coaches who couldn't handle a surplus of insanity on their fields. He'd start a mutant soccer league, and they'd work in rules for powers, and then everyone could play.
In the mean time: he noticed lap tops getting closed, and drinkings being finished. The meeting was wrapping up.
"Did you take the bus here?" Jiri asked. "I could walk you to your stop. I mean, if you'd like."
And if she didn't like, then hopefully they weren't walking to the same stop. Because then he'd just come off as a creeper.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Oct 9, 2015 17:43:29 GMT -6
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Leo was going all Scientific Method on this thing. Alex was going full mutant. Since he couldn't contribute to the latter without laying down for a nap, he stepped up to help with the former.
"You can see through their eyes, right? Or did I dream that?" He asked his roommate. Sometimes that happened, with the little details. "Let us know if you see anything. My vote's on the gardener getting a power growth and possessing this place."
He'd heard there was an alarming rate of people pretty much disappearing from the Mansion. So much so that they apparently didn't search too hard for people. So that could totally happen.
Jiri jogged back to the equipment shed, and brought back every type of ball he could find.
First things first: another soccer ball. Just in case the maze had something against that specific ball. Nope: the new one got tossed back out, too. All right. What about if he aimed over a side, not through the entrance? Yep, tossed back. Okay. That was pretty solid empirical evidence that hedges didn't like soccer.
Ah, but what about basketball? Jiri threw it in, but it was Leo's chest it came rocketing towards on its way back out. Heh.
Footballs: rejected.
Baseballs: returned to sender, fast pitch style.
Hockey pucks: ditto.
This thing was definitely not a sports fan. But maybe it was just anything? Jiri picked up a handful of stuff: a twig, some leaves, a dandelion head. They came fluttering back at his face.
With an air of great scientific discovery, he wiggled out of his shoes. The left got tossed back, but not his right. He couldn't even see where it landed, except that it had made a very distinctive getting-swallowed-by-a-bush sound on its way in.
"Oh come on.Give that back! Don't make us come in there!"
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Oct 9, 2015 17:24:01 GMT -6
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The bat fussily settled itself on the piano's top, much like a dog figuring out the most comfortable spot on a pillow. His human brain initially tried for sitting, but suffice it to say that a bat's tailbone was meant for being a tail, not to mention a part of its flight system, and was very much not adapted for sitting. Standing was out, too. After a great many moments, he finally figured out that a belly flop with his wings tucked next to him was the best way to go.
From there on out, things were simply divine. The girl played like the night itself, deep and all-encompassing, with sparks of light. The bats ears swiveled to catch each change in cadence, even as his eyes slipped shut without him even noticing.
The song she made for him was silly; as silly as anything could be, sung in her voice. It was like listening to an opera starlet preforming a children's CD. The little bat catch the tune and chirped along.
At some point, the chirping changed to humming.
It took a disorienting moment after that for Jiri to realize he was in his own bed again, and human, and also probably waking up his roommate with batty lyrics. Literally. Which meant that downstairs--
He vaulted off the bed, and out the door, whispering a quick sorry-didn't-mean-to-wake-you to Alex on his way out. On bare feet he thumped down the stairs (...as quietly as he could. People were sleeping.)
On the piano, the bat stared at the girl for a moment in terrified alarm, before wheeling off.
Not a minute later, a middle eastern teen in a tank top and batman boxers stumbled into the room, panting.
"That," Jiri gasped, "was awesome. You're really talented, you know? Why haven't I seen you around?"
It didn't occur to him that she wouldn't know who he was, now that he was rather distinctly bipedal. He obviously knew her.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Oct 7, 2015 17:32:44 GMT -6
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It was nice to know that at least one of their staff members was properly certified for her position. Even if she was totally covering for those who weren't.
Jiri yawned into his fist, then read the next batch. He should probably stand up, before he fell asleep.
Yeah.
Probably.
He'd do that, in just a minute.
"What's the difference between an Adapted and a mutant? Isn't anything not human a mutant? Why the different classification?"
"Are there any students who avoid you for your powers?"
"Why aren't you on the X-Men? With your power, you could stop many mutant criminals in their tracks, without making a huge scene. You wouldn't even need to fight, you'd just need to walk up to the criminal."
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 28, 2015 16:55:24 GMT -6
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Jiri scrolled past the usual stupidity.
take off ur shirt!
it's an AMA tradition
hes totally gonna skip this. dictator!
don't censor our freedom of boobs, Invasion!
yeah old lady boobs, real classy
'Up voted' did not always mean 'best question.' And that was where he came in. And why he kept his computer screen facing towards him, where the counselor wouldn't see it.
"All right, first question. What made you want to work at the Mansion?"
"What's the craziest thing you've seen while working there?"
"Do you actually have a counselor's license? Because it seems like some of the quote-unquote 'teachers' at the Mansion don't have teaching credentials."
She was going to kill him later for that last one, but seriously. He'd been noticing that, too.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 28, 2015 16:46:53 GMT -6
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"Fresh... pickled..." On reflection, he was not touching that one, just as she hadn't touched his dream interpreting. It was probably some pop culture reference he was failing at. Either that, or there was a mutant-owned ice cream shop in town: it wouldn't surprise him. Though somehow, he thought 'fresh pickled toads' would get PETA protesting outside their doors.
He took a sip of his chai. "I used to play for a club, at my old school. I, ah, moved recently. The new place doesn't have a team, though I'm trying to start one."
If 'got Alex to kick around a ball, and determined that Leo was a worthy foe' could qualify as starting one. Still, that was three down, and only eight to go.
Eight, and Ghost's words about human teams not letting mutants join their leagues, because they were afraid of crazy x-cheating. But frankly Ghost was an awful woman and maybe she'd just been lying to crush his dreams. Maybe. He could hope.
...And if anyone would know...
"Out of curiosity, have you ever heard of a mutant sports league? I'm suddenly picturing mutant soccer, and that would be..."
Out of his own league, what with his lame normal-human-physique. But still.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 28, 2015 16:38:36 GMT -6
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"Your name is not Magnum," Jiri commented, shouldering aside a guy who was too busy talking to his friends to make way for a lady. When the guy glared at them, he blew a kiss. It seemed appropriate. "Magnum is a type of gun. People don't name their kids Rifle or Glock, and they don't name their kids Magnum, either. Don't make me search this outfit for an ID, neither of us want my hands going there."
He was starting to feel a little sassy. In a manly way. And she was feeling... what? Nervous? It was harder to tell, suddenly. Probably worried that someone was going to key her precious car while it was out of her sight.
He bumped another guy out of the way, and stood face-to-face with the man she'd pointed out earlier.
"You the guy who gives out the money?"
That guy he'd just bumped? Definitely the other driver. He looked about as thrilled that this chick didn't even recognize him as you'd expect.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 27, 2015 9:31:24 GMT -6
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Familiarizing herself with...
Oh god. The horrors she'd seen.
"You really didn't have to," Jiri said, far too late to save her innocent adult eyes. "We're doing kind of a modified thing, anyway. The internet gets really stupid," and gross, really gross, "so I'll just be skimming for the good questions, and I'll read them to you. Then you answer on camera. Just, ah, remember it's a live stream."
So no throwing things at him, or the internet would know.
"Also keep in mind that I didn't write any of these."
So please no throwing things at him. Especially not his own things. Especially if they weighed more than a pound and hard hard square plastic corners.
"Do you just want to sit behind your desk for this? It's pretty good staging." He set up the laptop and camera as he spoke, sipping coffee liberally. He was on auto-pilot, a bit. Maybe more than a bit. He'd done this half a dozen times now, and setting up a webcam wasn't the hardest thing to begin with. It just clipped on the back of his computer. He was using the shiny new one from Jaager Worldwide. Now that had been an interview.
He sat down across from her, and gave a nod and a final yawn. "Let's. We're live in three, two.."
"Hello, Internet, and welcome to another exciting addition to our AMAs at Xavier's Mansion, aka the Bird Sanctuary, aka please-stop-taking-pictures-through-the-gate-it's-creepy. I'm InvasionOfTheBS, and I have here with me someone who's a bit more 'special' than usual."
"Ms. Taylor, would you care to introduce yourself to our viewers? The usual questions are 'what's your name,' 'what's your position at the Mansion,' and 'what's your power.' But I'll, ah, let you explain that last one."
