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.
Victor watched her face, slowly gaining an understanding of how her features worked. They were there, just way more subtle. She waved off his complement and explained what the drink was. It was interesting, perhaps he should give it a try. But later, he was getting enough alcohol as it was. Nice tingly warm alcohol. He was going to have to be careful. He might become an addict at this rate and he definitely didn't want to bring that home with him.
It was hard not to notice her verbal surprise at his skin shift. The alcohol was probably doing more than making him feel good then. He must actually be getting warm with it or it was doing something to him. Not surprising, well it shouldn't be. Throw beer on a fire, you're going to get a bigger fire.
"Sorry,"<<The color-changing surprised me. It's really cool. Why? If it isn't too personal to ask?>>
He shrugged it off, "It's no big deal. I tend to change color based on the temperature. I guess the drink is actually making me warm. I thought it was just a feeling." He held up the beer, peeking at the proof. It wasn't that bad, though he had to wonder what a higher proof would do to him. Well only one way to find out.
He downed his second beer at a far faster pace. It burned but not so bad the second time around and the warmth was far greater this time around. He could feel himself gathering heat and now he knew that his skin was definitely reacting to it too. And this was only beer number two.
<< I come here more often than I would like to admit. It's a good place, with good quality music. They're pretty chill about mutants. And they make really good Old Fashioned's too.>>
He looked from her to the text and back again. She tended to stare at him a lot and he might have done the same to her. It was hard not to. Prawn woman or not, she was pretty in her own unique way and he was never one to discriminate with his heart. Beer in hand he wondered how his body would take the alcohol. From his knowledge there wasn't too much alcohol in beer so it was probably safe to experiment with...Probably.
"Yeah, I really do like the music, though I'm not as familiar with the drinks as you seem to be. What's an Old Fashion?" In classic Latino fashion most of his drink knowledge tended toward beer and more fruit-styled alcohol. He was familiar with drinking at least, hard to avoid when grandfathers and uncles insist you have a taste even when you're underage.
Taking a swing of alcohol he was surprised by how much more it burned going down before feeling pleasantly warm. He might not have noticed it himself, but for Jack she would see his skin get a touch brighter. Fire and alcohol might not usually mix, but Victor was enjoying the sensation. He accidentally ended up downing the whole thing.
Man it felt good and all from one beer? He raised his hand for another. He wasn't a light-weight after all. Plus he was here to get loose and have a good time, this would help.
The strangers grasp was firm, skin, shell perhaps, was colder than his own. An imitation of a real crustacean or maybe he was just warmer than he thought. He couldn't read their facial expression, if they even could have one. It didn't look like the arrangement of their head made communication easy. Though he was sure they had thought of something to over come that.
Victor had nearly missed at the strangers attempt to talk. Jack was the name he was sure he heard but he could have heard wrong. The other mutant seemed frustrated by their own mutterings and reached for their phone. He waited patiently for the other to type the quick message.
<< It's a pleasure, Victor. I'm Jacquelyn, but I prefer Jack. Is it your first time here? >>
He blinked and looked up at, well, her. He was sure now that this person was in fact female. "Ah, yeah, I heard some really good things about it. What about you? First time too or more of a regular?" he asked, trying to push down any questions that might have been considered rude. He may not have been out in a long time but still knew how to socialize...Mostly.
The Looking Glass, he had been told, was one of the number one spots for mutants to gather and relax in New York. The jazz club boasted a standard menu of snacks but a much bigger menu of alcohol. Though it wasn't the alcohol Victor was coming for. It was the music. The orange mutant didn't dance to it often but he was familiar with the tune. Jazz reminded him of his grandfather and perhaps a little of chicha cumbia.
So that's where Victor found himself wondering into, glancing around the cozy setting. The band was playing something nice and bouncy, making his toes tap along to the beat. Lord in heaven he could feel it in his spine, familiar sensation of want to move. But toe tapping was as far as it got. Perhaps after a few drinks he'd be up for trying to dance again.
Heading over to the bar after showing his ID, he found himself seated next to prawn looking gentlemen. Well they might have been a man, he really couldn't tell. It might have just been the mutation covering their gender. It wouldn't be the first time he had a case of mistaken identity.
He ordered a beer, trying not to think of what it might do to his new body, then introduced himself. "Uh, hi...Sorry if I'm bothering you, it's been a while since I've been out and well...I'm Victor, nice to meet you." he held out his hand, trying not to seem as awkward as he felt. Things like this had felt so much easier when he was a kid. Then again, he wasn't a big orange mutant back then. Still, this was another physical mutant like him, so maybe they could get along for tonight and he wouldn't feel so lonely.
(Ooc: It's cool, I'm gonna wrap up so we can move on. Let me know if you want anything edited.) "As it turns out, you're not the only one with that problem. We usually offer two choices - an interview or an essay. Usually, applicants pick the essay, but if you'd prefer not to, you'd have to make an appointment with one is the members of the application board. And would you look at that - I happen to be one of the members of the application board."
"I'd appreciate that sir. An interview would be easier than an essay, simply because my hands really don't fit keyboards any more. Besides, I'm pretty sure I've shown here today that I can speak pretty confidently." He grinned and wished he could wink. But he settled for a sly look instead.
He was beginning to like Jaager. Despite giving him the chills at first, the predator feel must have only been a false positive. Jaager was a good man, baring his out burst earlier. Though he really couldn't blame the man for being upset. This cure was a big deal. If it could help mutants like him live more normal lives, then that was a lot of profit to be had.
"Well, looks like you're set until next time you come here. If you're seriously considering that scholarship, the application form is on our website, and we handle everything else. Is there anything more you'd like to know?"
He thought for a moment but decided to pass on more questions. "At the moment, nothing I can think of. I'll go ahead and fill out the application. Thank you for all your help sir. I really appreciate it." He hopped off the table and held out his hand to shake Jaager's. He had a really good feeling about this.
Mr. Jaager seemed to catch on rather quick to what sort of game he was playing at. And that was fine by him. It would get things to the point a lot faster. No reasons to play around with ifs or buts.
"All I'm saying is that Faust is woefully understocked in comparison to me, and unless you're a chemistry sort of guy, you'd be hard-pressed to get a good job with her. She produces pharmaceuticals only - we produce anything and everything mutant. If you really want to help our species, I'd suggest coming to work here - no bias on my end, of course,"
Of course. That smile didn't feel as predator as the previous. A bit more playful rather. The man was suggesting he could help their species. Though he'd hardly counted mutant as a separate species. He still wanted to believe he was human, no matter how he looked. That at the end of the day he still belonged to his family.
"And engineering's always a good choice - it's generic, and people are always looking for engineers. Anything you pick, really, if you get that scholarship, JW is pretty much obliged to hire you. We need mutants to work for us, after all, since many aren't open enough to wish to do so, and I'm sure you'd be qualified for whatever you put your mind to. You seem like a very determined sort of man."
He thought it over, or at least pretended to. He didn't really have to think it over. If he could get a job where he's respected with just as good of pay as his current job, he would do it. No more worrying about getting fired because some ass thought he didn't deserve it. Plus, working for Jaager may mean he could get a promotion instead of being stuck in a job going nowhere for the rest of his life.
"What would I need to do to get the scholarship? Do I just apply or is there an essay involved or something?" He hadn't written an essay since high school but he was sure it wouldn't be that hard to pick it up again. He would just need someone else to do the typing for him since his hands no longer fit computers.
He took the card and glanced it over. Flipping it to the other side he saw a number and other contact information. Good, he was sure he would contact them in the near future for better fitted clothes. He was sure they could work miracles with what he already had. "Do you guys do just suits or is it possible to get some of my everyday clothes fixed up?" He glanced back and watched the young man work, grinning at the talent.
"How does that feel? Too loose, too tight? I let it out a quarter inch, but we could do more or less, no problem."
"Mmm, a little bit too tight I think." He murmured before looking back at Panu and chuckling at the little one's fix for the situation. Yes that jacket was far too big for him, even more so than the hoodie. The young tailor's gasp of horror made this even funnier. "I like big clothes. They cover more. And they are heavy. It is a good weight."
Obviously the young man had never worked with picky children. Thankfully he was sure he could think of a solution.
"Here, let me dry off your hoodie and then you can wear it." He took the soggy piece of clothing, removing whatever was in the pockets before wringing out what extra water he could. Then folded it, pressed it against his body, and brought up his temperature. He had done this with blankets before when they didn't dry all the way. It took a few minuets but well worth it to keep the tailor from having a heart attack.
He checked it a few times before handing the hoodie back. "There, how's that? Much better right?"
"You have a tail! No one told me you had a tail, the measurements are going to be all off! You are not walking off without me modifying those, the Sarto family name would never live down the shame of an ill-fit customer."
Victor would have told the younger mutant it was fine but all too soon the tailor was fussing over him. It took him a moment to catch up with his babbling.
"Do you like to tuck it, or flaunt it? We could let out the fabric a bit, or lower the waist line, or--"
"Tranquilo, easy, no need to rush. Now, I can't tuck it in, it's a rather thick and inflexible tail. I'd prefer to let out the fabric or make a hole for it. I've found that lower waist lines tend to make the front uncomfortable. Do you think you can work with that?" He tried to keep his voice easy going and calm for the talkative teen. Obviously the poor guy was under a lot of pressure to succeed.
In talking with the teen tailor he kind of forgot about Panu for a moment. So he didn't notice the kid changing. Thankfully the too bigger bodies covered the child just fine and nobody else noticed either. By the time he did notice the boy was pulling on his still wet hoodie. "Panu, isn't that still too wet to wear?"
He chuckled at the young man's rambling, a mutant who looked like someone ran headfirst into a craft fabric shop. Not in a bad sense either, it was rather cool looking to be honest. And looking at the selection of clothing in the back it was clear the young man knew his way around a sewing machine. Or perhaps he was the sewing machine.
"Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. We really appreciate it." He tried to keep his smile toothless. Looking at all the clothes it looked like several of them would fit just fine. So he grabbed a pair of suit pant first and pulled them on under the blanket tied around his waist. It fit fine, if only a little snugly around the tail area.
"Did you make all of these? They're great!" He was tempted to take way more than he actually needed. It wasn't often he'd get clothes that would fit him so well. Especially not tailor made suits. But given that it was all on Ambrose's bill he didn't want to anger the man on accident.
Thankfully the doors of the van's back covered them enough that nobody really saw the quick pull on. He glanced down at Panu. "How would you like to get dressed? You could probably change in the van or we can see if we can use the inside bathroom?" He didn't want to expose a child or anything but changing in tricky situations like this always proved a challenge.
The ease with which the boy called the secretary made him wonder again. It seemed like the moment the phone was against his ear, he was already talking. And now that he was thinking about it, the little helicopter had been flying around with no visible controller. Maybe the boy was some sort of tech mutant. Wouldn't be that far off, given the mutant was probably one of the easiest to profit from.
Again he worried Ambrose wasn't being a good influence on the boy or there was some form of abuse going on. But for now all he could do was push the thought back and wait for when he could talk to the man in person. He didn't need another flare up to scare Panu.
He listened curiously and wondered if he should step in, tell the secretary not to worry about the top half of him. Honestly it was still warm enough that he could get by shirtless. It wasn't like he was going to go anywhere after this. He's just go home and hope that his little closet of clothing would last him till he could get replacements.
But before he could suggest it Panu was already hanging up after giving the secretary a complement. "<Our clothes are there.>" He looked up and saw the car slowly coming there way, herding the employees out of the way.
"<Oh, so it is. That was fast. Here, take my hand.>" He offered his hand to Panu so they could meet the black car together. Plus he didn't want to loose sight of the kid just yet.
With all his angry thoughts he hadn't realized Panu's discomfort until the soft voice spoke up. "<You are getting warm, is it okay if I come out from under your arm?>"
He lifted his arm quickly, letting steam out of his mouth at the same time to release some of the heat. "<Sorry, I didn't realize.>" He needed to watch his temper before he accidentally hurt someone. All this talking with Panu was having his brain run around in circles. Unproductive, biased circles. Panu was smart but maybe he wasn't speaking as clearly as he seemed.
He needed to wait till he talked to Ambrose before he jumped to conclusions. Maybe talk to his aunt, see what she had to say. As a nurse, the older woman had worked with her fair share of kids and probably could tell him if he was jumping to conclusions.
Or maybe he could talk to the secretary, see what she knew. Though some how, he was getting the feeling that Panu was supposed to be a secret. And therefore not something to share with secretary. Or at least not share with a secretary that would share that information with him.
Speaking of which, "<Did the secretary say when someone with clothes would arrive?>"
"<I think I do not understand your words? Mean and angry are different in my language. If you have seen Mr. Jaager angry, then you know he is angry for reasons. I do not give reasons. So he is not angry with me. And never mean, mean is when people hurt for fun. It is not mean or angry if I give reason first, then it is just... correcting behavior?>"
He could give several reasons why mean and angry have interconnecting history. That anger could lead someone to be mean or cruel. That being mean isn't just hurting for fun. Though he had to question where Panu came to that conclusion. But all that internal reasoning fell away when the boy mentioned correcting behavior.
Punishment was not uncommon and not neglect all on it's own. He knew time outs and bedroom confinement and taking away cellphones and game consoles. The occasional light tap or restraining hug wasn't bad either. But the way Panu said it felt like there was more going on. The ache in his gut burned into a low fire and he knew Panu could probably see it on his face now.
"<How does Mr.Jaager correct your behavior Panu?>" He was thankfully able to keep the growl out of his voice, keep it friendly and his hand relaxed. But it didn't stop the warmth from growing, nor his teeth from barring more than they should.
"<Mr. Jaager is nice, I did not have a home so he let me stay at his house. It is a very big house. I am very small and quiet so probably he does not even notice me. It is a good house.>"
It aligned with his secondary thoughts on what could be happening. But his gut feeling still applied. He wasn't going to be sure until he confronted Ambrose about it. He didn't know how much the boy was covering for the man. There was an odd pause so there was still a chance that the whole thing could be a lie.
"<I see, and Mr. Jaager takes good care of you? I've seen him get angry before, but I doubt he'd be mean to you.>" He had to be carefuller now. He had seen the man gouge the wall in anger, scare off his employees in a fit of rage. But Panu didn't look like he'd been harmed, didn't look like he had met the pointed ends of those claws. Looks could be deceiving though. The man could have threatened Panu, come near to harming him and restrained himself. Which meant it was only a matter of time before restraint wasn't enough.
Something told him Panu was no stranger to abuse. There were so many things wrong with that very idea that it made him sick to his stomach. He felt the very distinct need to set something on fire.
He tilted his head, a little concerned, wondering for what reason Panu would live in Ambrose's house. Though he hadn't mentioned it there was still a possibility that perhaps one of Panu's parents worked or lived with Ambrose. A live in maid like his grandmother back in Peru used to be. But if there wasn't a parent then why was Panu running around the office unsupervised. He was tempted to look around the crowd and see if there were any family members looking for their child.
Then Panu had to add on to it before he could ask clarifying questions...
"<He gives me things when I am good. See?>"
Alarm bells went off in his head. Like fire trucks blaring down the street. Like that time when he watched the neighbors across the street, how the father's hand gripped too tightly, too roughly. How the kids had been shy and quiet, carefully wording sentences as if afraid to upset the adults. The only thing that was missing from this situation were bruises. He knew something was wrong, something in his gut knew something was wrong. Buying a child's affection was not unusual, but buying it on top of these already alarming signs only compounded the issue.
Maybe he was wrong and Panu was a victim that Ambrose was caring for temporarily, until a better home could be found. But he was going to have to confront Ambrose about this now. There was no way he couldn't. Not with a child at risk. Still it wouldn't hurt to glean more information from Panu.
"<Can you tell me why you're staying with Mr.Jaager?>"He asked, trying to sound more curious than worried. He didn't want to make it seem like Panu was in trouble or would get in trouble for talking.
"<Mr. Jaager's secretary. She said she would send us clothing.>"
"<Ah, good. Wouldn't want you to catch a cold.>" He had noticed that the kid was damp from helping him out. But of course had no real way of fixing it. Not without scooping up the child and warming him himself. However that would probably be fairly strange for everyone involved given his state of dress. "<Are the researchers happy again? I stopped listening.>"
He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, "<I don't blame you. They seem to be happy or at the very least distracted.>" Indeed the group of researchers were huddled together talking to each other. He caught a few words that led him to believe that they were discussing the cure and what could have gone wrong. The other words he caught were a slurry of chemical mumbo jumbo that he wouldn't understand even he knew the words.
Still, calling on Mr.Jaager's secretary just led him back to his earlier conclusion. Panu must be Ambrose's child and now he had to ask, "<Panu, is Mr.Jaager your dad?>"