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 Sept 27, 2015 9:12:08 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
290
35
Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
Jiri downed his second cup of coffee, picked up his laptop, and yawned his way to the counselor’s office.
At some point he was going to have to talk to this lady. Like, really talk to her. About the whole a Mansion adult karma'ed me with her power and then physically assaulted me with my own laptop thing. Seriously, what even was Ghost? She didn't seem to teach any classes. And he really, really hoped she didn't get paid to welcome students, because someone needed to get their money back on that deal.
He knocked on the wooden door, and bounced in place as he waited for Ms. Taylor to answer. Today they'd be talking, all right, but not about him. Today was all about her. The questions had been rolling in all night, ever since he'd announced the interview yesterday.
AMA With Xavier's Counselor, Talk To The Woman Who Talks To All The X's!
This one was going to be huge.
And he was definitely, definitely going to stay awake for it.
“Good morning,” Jiri said once the door opened, with a bleary blink.
Character's full name: Dr. Rudolph Kipperling Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Headmaster Ruddy Gender: Male Age: Late 60's Nationality: American Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: German
Appearance
Hair color and style: White and unkempt, life is too short for hairbrushes Skin Tone: So very white, and a little wrinkly Eye Color: Blue Height: 5'8" Build: "Spry old man" Visible mutation: There's sometimes more than one of him at breakfast in the mornings. Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Sometimes has fresh tattoos, preferably crazy big ones, but they never last long.
Most commonly seen clothing: A tweed suit with an eccentrically patterned bow-tie.
Character
Personality: Jovial, encouraging, and completely willing to go with the madness. Can and will try to sign you up for every class at the Mansion, even if it causes conflicts in your schedule. (Note: The "original" Ruddy is far more cautious than his clones. If you say, "Can we go to that large volcanic eruption? Can we, can we?" He'll say "Sure kids, take my clone as a chaperon!", but will not go himself. He is a master at living vicariously~) Hobbies/ Interests: Piloting. He specializes in vintage aircraft and blimps, but we can't let that ol' stealth jet in the basement get dusty, now can we? Job description: Mansion Headmaster, and coach of the Aviation Club
Mutations
Mutation description: Self-duplicator. Headmaster Ruddy can make up to 10 copies of himself at any one time. The copies live for 72 hours, and "fade away" over the course of their final hour. Their memories return to Ruddy. Strengths: Ruddy can be in as many threads as we need him to be, without worrying about messing up his timeline, woo! Clones can have slightly different personalities from the original Ruddy, so it's fine if other players change how he's played. He maintains a lose psychic connection to his clones (to reabsorb their memories), so he's juuuust psychic enough that he can use Cerebra if we want him to. Clones blip out of existence in an Adapted field, which is perfect for dodging certain counselors and their talks about "responsible behavior." Weaknesses and Limitations: Each clone can live for only 72 hours. They're "born" with all of Ruddy's memories, as well as the certain knowledge that they only have three days to live. This can lead to the clones being a bit more willing to engage in crazy "if it was my last day alive then I'd _________" hi-jinks than the typical human.And since hi-jinks are more fun with a friend, they like to drag students (and the X-Team) along for the ride.
"Everyone quick, get on the X-Jet! I'll explain on the way!"
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 20, 2015 10:10:36 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
290
35
Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
The laughter was grating. Even more so because it came with color commentary from her thoughts. Illegal street race, illegal gambling, so sue him if he hadn't really put those facts together yet--one of them had driven this car here tonight knowing what she was getting into, and one of them had literally woken up behind the wheel in the middle of her death race. There hadn't been much down time to think, all right?
Suffice it to say that the Iranian teen was sulking in her head. "Lady you cannot be more worried about me taking your body drinking than you are that I'm going to use you for a suicide bombing. You cannot." This was the new ground rule for their relationship. It was important to establish that fact before he stepped outside of this car.
Her next words were far from comforting. Pick up the illicit cash, sure, fine, whatever. Avoid being laid by half the crowd? Oh god, that mental image, he did not need that. If Jiri had ever needed proof that he was straight as an arrow, the very thought of that sent him cringing to the hetero side of the ball field. Or whatever it was, when you were currently (literally) dressed as a girl. Misandry had never seemed so appealing.
The punching, by comparison, sounded like just the right level of testosterone to shore up his manliness.
"Lady," he said, curling her lips into a smile, "I make no promises."
(S)he popped the door open, and stepped out into the night. Some sauntering might have resulted on the way to pick up their cash (damn their womanly hips).
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 20, 2015 9:54:40 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
290
35
Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
She didn't look like a girl who taste tested ice cream. She looked like a sprinter, or a long-jumper. Maybe a pole vaulter? Not like a young woman who went around spooning custardy treats in her mouth.
These were not words that were going to leave his mouth.
"Soccer," he held the warm chai cup between his palms. "And, ah, dream interpreting. If that counts." He flashed a grin. Dream interpreting. Yep. Definitely what he did. Every. Single. Night.
"So what's with the taste test thing? What got you started on that?"
Moving the topic back to her, now. Girls liked that, right?
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 20, 2015 9:26:12 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
290
35
Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
Jiri caught the ball on the rebound, resisting the urge to dramatically limp while he ran. There were no refs here to suck up to. One thing bothered him, though, and it wasn't Leo's helping.
What the heck had the ball rebounded off of? Leaves? He'd kicked enough balls into bushes to know that usually there was more crawling-in-after-them-and-getting-scratched-by-branches than this.
Jiri kept the ball closed and controlled as he jogged in, and took a shot. A perfect, dead center, high speed, no-goalie-in-sight shot. If a certain x-negative Hispanic needed some shouldering out of the way for him to make it, then clearly they were just instructing Alex on how to body check someone.
The ball went in. And promptly came back out at full speed, chased by a gust of wind that stirred up leaves from the ground.
"Umm," the Iranian teen said, enunciating each letter carefully for maximum clarity.
Ummmmm.
Yeah. That.
He wasn't going in first, but damn straight he was going in. Jiri didn't take that kind of physics from hedge rows.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 15, 2015 20:55:53 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
290
35
Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
Jiri was not entirely certain the woman knew that he could hear her thoughts. Like the terrorist line. And the 72 virgins thing, especially the part where she contemplated 72 virgins in bed (seriously who even had time for that) and then proceeded to be more worried about her car than about the human bodies which might soon be denting her car.
Jiri tried helping her out a little, by not-so-subtly giving her some thoughts of his own to read. Ones so ridiculous she had to figure out that he was faking them. For good measure, he even played up the Iranian accent, sounding a lot more like his father than himself.
Not that this string of words would ever come from his dad's head.
Allah protect me, the infidel is on to me! Give me the strength to survive this wretched race, for here I can only kill dozens, but by evenings' end thousands shall burn in the hell that awaits their capitalist souls--
Yeah he couldn't really keep that up. Especially not with the distance between car and crowd rapidly closing. He followed her directions exactly, praying that her love for this car was enough to protect the stupidly cheering masses.
It wasn't until they'd safely parked and (s)he was taking deep, calming breaths that he had time to think again.
To be fair, his power would rock for a terrorist plot. Hijack a body, blow it up, lather-rinse-repeat until all the infidels were literally in crispy toasty pieces--
...And that was enough of that train of thought, really.
"Are you legal to drink?" Jiri asked, in her voice. "I'm not, but I'm pretty sure no one's checking my ID."
He'd never gone drinking before. But television and movies told him that this was precisely the time to do so.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 12, 2015 15:39:29 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
290
35
Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
The children fell unanimously silent as the big black dragon emerged from the woods, and even more silent as he said a bad word. They looked at each other, each daring the other with their eyes.
"Asshat!" The vine manipulator yelled, back at the evil sorceress. The cry was taken up by a dozen young voices, gleefully bouncing behind the safety of their new protector and revealing in this amazing new word. "Asshat! Asshat!" It was their battle cry, their call to their champion, their urging onwards to victory.
The dragon soon proved himself to be perfectly polite and civil and a storybook lesson in not judging a book by its scaled dark-themed cover.
"This was our home first!" One of the other kids shouted, which was supported by a chorus of yeah!'s. None of the children remembered this angry blonde being at the Mansion, so clearly they'd been there first. "Damnit!" The kid added, for good measure, with that certain thrill of saying a bad word. But she'd started it.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 12, 2015 10:35:38 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
290
35
Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
Oh god his awkwardness was infectious, it was like the black plague of awkwardness, he could see it spread to her and she coughed lightly on the last sip of her drink which was really kind of cute and that just made him blush even harder.
I'm not hitting on you, he wanted to say, I'm just a mutant trying to change the subject.
Yes. That is definitely what was happening here.
"Cascara soda. Got it." And then he fled down the stairs. There might or might not have been some face palming involved when he got to the bottom. He'd forgotten about the whole the upstairs has a big gaping hole that looks down on the first floor thing, so she may or may not have seen him do it.
"Cascara soda," he repeated to himself. Right. What was cascara soda? Hopefully the people at the counter knew, because if this turned out to be the snipe of sodas than he was going to excuse himself to the bathroom and climb out a window.
Happily, the guy behind the counter didn't even bat an eye. He just asked, "What size?" Which was a whole different conundrum. He didn't want to go with a regular, because that might make him look cheap, but was large like saying she looked like a girl who really liked her soda? There was no way to win, with women.
"Medium?" Jiri ordered.
And was half way up the stairs again before he remembered he'd forgotten to get a drink for himself.
...Several minutes later, the Iranian teen returned, one medium cascara soda and one small chai in hand.
"So yeah. What do you do besides stalk people with cameras?"
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 12, 2015 10:05:54 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
290
35
Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
Jiri couldn't help shifting in his seat a little as the man answered the are we human or not question. It was a heated topic at the Mansion, one that Mirror had very definitively answered as no during her own AMA. But here Jaager sat, the head of a company on the leading edge of genetic research, giving a very reasoned yes.
He wasn't entirely certain how he felt about that, actually. But the way Jaager explained it didn't seem too bad--more like genetics were a grey area than a black-and-white. He also feel into the green eyed category, and that had never made him feel like a different species.
The answer about the drugs was reassuring, too. A suppressant. Not something that changed your genetics, just something that helped control things.
...Would it be weird to ask about joining the drug trails, after this AMA was done? He probably needed parental permission to sign up, anyway, and his mom had pretty much vetoed further drug tests after they'd found out he was a mutant, not a real narcoleptic. But this was a drug for mutants, so that might change her mind. Right?
Oh god he just wanted to sleep again.
The teen thought that now might be a good time to not be sitting down. He stood up, and read the next batch of questions. Hopefully that didn't weird Ambrose out. But seriously, it was better than possessing the CEO mid-AMA. "With regards to certain companies, what do you have to say with regards to the Faust financial situation? Do you believe the Wolf exposé, or do you side with Faust's press statement that this was a juvenile hacking attempt, and all records were falsified?"
And a follow up question, from that same discussion thread: "Everyone knows Faust Pharm and JW are the two major players in the mutant cure business. Was this corporate espionage?"
And that was probably enough serious questions for a bit. Here was a nice fluffy fringe conspiracy one:
"You have black wings remarkably similar to those of Jabberwocky aka Jörmungandr aka Death Dragon. Your company is working on a power suppressing drug. Admit it: 'Ambrose Jaager' is nothing but the pill-popping alter-ego of the wanted mutant terrorist."
He couldn't even keep a straight face, reading that.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 12, 2015 9:44:39 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
290
35
Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
The little brown bat held very still as the girl got up. Intellectually, Jiri knew from the size his anxious little chirps were bringing back that she must be a fellow teenager. But realistically, it was hard to think of her as anything but a looming giant that could crush him with a single misplaced foot.
The anxious chirping continued as she crouched over him. His wing was well and truly stuck, there was nowhere to go, he apologized fervently in his (their) head to the bat for getting it killed--
A warm hand landed gently on his back, and another worked patiently at untangling his claw. The bat's heart beat loudly in its chest as he worked to process this. So... not their impending death, then?
She lifted him up to eye level. The bat stayed still in her hands, tucking its wings neatly in against its sides after an experimental stretch of his newly freed wing to make sure everything still worked. Jiri was careful to keep his claws from poking at his skin.
A series of not unhappy chirps left him as she pet him. Jiri's large ears swiveled forward as she spoke.
>> “What are you doing in here? Did you get lost, or maybe you came in through an open window?”
The bat tilted its head in consideration. Could he pantomime I am a student possessing a bat? ...Yeah no, probably not. He'd try for something simpler.
The little bat gathered itself in her hand, using one wing to prop itself up into a vaguely sitting position. The other it stretched out towards the piano. Then it let out a series of little clicks, that tried (and mostly failed) to be musical.
I heard you playing, was the rough translation he was trying to get across, with a subtext of, oh hey by the way I'm a student not a bat, please continue to not maim me.
Posted by Jiri O'Leary on Sept 12, 2015 9:27:18 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
290
35
Jul 27, 2018 20:39:53 GMT -6
He got a grin and an outraged glower from his ball stealing, which was satisfying on all counts. Jiri flashed a yes I did just do that, what you gonna do, go cry to your very nice mother? grin towards Leo. From the way the other teen had caught the ball, it was clear he was no stranger to the game. All was fair between veterans.
He fell into an easy, I-could-outpace-you-if-I-wanted-but-we're-being-friendly lope across the lawn. The hedge maze was pretty easy to spot. It was the giant wall of slightly overgrown bushes towering between the Mansion and the forest. It was taller than a gargantuan mutant, and impenetrable as his old school's meatloaf. The only way in or out (without being a lame cheater) was a single entrance, a little wider than a normal door. It looked in on another hedgerow, one that stretched unbroken to left and right until each path turned sharply at the outer edge and disappeared into the depths of horticulture.
>> "So I'm curious about the maze. It's like Harry Potter full of spiders and death traps, right? I mean, is that crazy to ask? I feel like that's not outside the realm of possibility."
"Totally possible," Jiri said. "I've been hearing crazy stories from some of the other students, like actual minotaurs or vine traps or that the groundskeeper himself went in and never came out. You can still hear him in the night, his shears shinking metallicly from from deep within." Which would totally explain why the thing looked like it hadn't been pruned in a few years. "And, not gonna lie, I am so past not believing the crazy things about this place. Because apparently we have a holodeck, a scary metal hat room, water cannons turrets in the lawn, and a hanger with a decommissioned air force stealth jet under the basketball court. Seriously. You can see the seams where it opens."
Some of those he'd seen personally, and some of them he'd heard from people he trusted. Really, as soon as the holodeck turned out to be real, Jiri had suspended all disbelief. At this rate, he'd even be willing to believe that the Morris twins were just one man with a cross-dressing fetish.
So, in a word: he was totally down for exploring the possible hedge maze death trap.
>> "Or we could make it the penalty. Say...whoever looses has to explore the maze?"
"Alex, whoa," Jiri said, with a totally straight face. "No fair sending in the human like that."
Because Leo was going down so hard, it was a foregone conclusion.
Jiri grinned again. "Last person to get a goal is the first one in?"
