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.
Ty's laughter and humor were contagious; Magnum soon found herself overcome by good-natured laughter. "You could always say no," her voiced pitched in self defense. "Besides, there may come a day when I decided that I want to climb a tree, and then you decide you want to kiss me. What would happen then?" She laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Right, exactly what I just asked you would happen."
"Although," she smiled, resting against his side. "It's a good thing you'll never have to worry about burning trees. Fire seems to stay away from me, for some odd reason." Tiredness left over from her sleepless night started to numb the tips of her fingers. Slowly, it began moving up, but Mag didn't make a move to stop it. They had no place to be, and no reason to leave. They also weren't running from anything (for the time being). These facts started eating away at her resolve to stay awake, allowing her eyes to slide closed and a slightly mumbled sentence to slip out. "When did you get your powers?"
Magnum gave a soft laugh with him, letting it fade into a smile as Ty's words settled. "I trust you." The simplest of proclamations, and, yet, three words that redefine someone's world. If he were any other person, Mag would have stopped the conversation there. The dangers of trusting someone, especially someone like her, were immense. She would have told them this, and that life cannot heal some wounds. She would have warned them that her powers were dangerous; she would have ended the relationship with a simple warning: Death follows me like a hawk. Yet, it was Ty - the first person to show that they cared about her since she moved away from Chicago. He seemed to understand, at least somewhat, the concept of living on the edge of the law, running from people, and constantly being afraid of the moment that your past catches up with you.
For those reasons, when his arm reached her shoulder she moved up toward him instead of away. She nestled into his side, careful not to aggravate the bruises. She smiled in bliss.. maybe everyone could get used to living in ignorance for a while. Not even his comments and subsequent wince brought her back from the momentary abyss. It was just her and Ty.... and the couch.
"Well, it looks like we won't be taking that drive this evening, since you aren't in a mode to fight centripetal force. So, as payment, you have to answer a question: would you climb a tree to kiss me?"
Magnum groaned in annoyance. She'd have to confess to being in a drug-altered state while racing next time she saw him, and then face the wrath of the track's bets collector for driving with senseless danger. That would be a long talk, and the twit that put her in such a situation deserved his subsequent long sulk. Jiri had reminded her that teenage boys were the worst.
"Yeah? Then why do you do it? Did you drop out of high school, and it's this or making fries at McGrease King?" he asked, completely unaware that, though exaggerated, his assessment was true. However, the idea of schooling made Magnum laugh in a manner demonstrating just how preposterous she felt school to be. "That's not right at all. I've been off the grid longer than you've been alive, child," she mocked. "To go back now would be stupid and nearly impossible - normal life is excessively difficult after living like I have for so long."
Previous thoughts of distaste regained their footing after her minor flashback, getting support from his constant obsessing over her behind. A butt was a butt, though apparently her hijacker had felt as though female butts were significantly different than male butts. As one who spent a fair amount of time getting to know both, Magnum knew from personal experience that a well-toned body had an equally fine butt regardless of the host's gender.
Annoyance turned into anger with his suggestion of donating her winnings to a church. "There is no way in hell that is happening." Jiri would probably select the Satanic church he attended that taught him how to steal bodies or some backward shack in the middle of nowhere. A Catholic church wouldn't work either - Mag was done with that portion of her heritage and never going back. She hadn't shown up at church since her mother died. No, Magnum would have none of that. As the realization sunk in deeper that an entire night's earnings were down the drain and she'd have to deal with a lecture in the morning, a real hatred started to build. She wanted to find and kill whatever body this demon inhabited next, just so it could deal with the pain it caused.
"That's always reassuring, because I don't think I ever want to go through that again," she mumbled, a hint of sarcasm in her otherwise low voice (to minimize the headache). "Although, I do have one question: have you used your powers to learn about me before this?"
The buzzing in her head was, for the most part, gone. With it, her voice rose to a normal level. A deep breath told her that, although the visions hadn't toyed with her powers, their aftermath had. Neither of them had anything to worry about, though, as the problem seemed to be resolving itself with the clearing of her headache. In the process of talking, Magnum had noticed that every time she closed her eyes the pounding pressure lessened, so that's what she did; her head found a perch on Ty's shoulder and rested there. At least, it did until he started talking.
"Sooo....now that we got all of that out of the way....You feeling any better? It should subside after several minutes," he murmured above her. Instead of sitting up, she sunk lower on the couch, eventually laying so that her legs dangled over the side of the couch. They kicked slowly into the air, aimlessly wandering through the open space that the world presented to them. "Yeah," she managed a weak chuckle. "I'm doing better. Now, what's on your mind, broken one?"
Magnum felt gross. And obligated to do the cleaning because it was her mess and he had enough trouble just standing. And still dizzy from whatever his power did to her. And a strong dislike for her body. But mostly, Mag felt ashamed. The kind of shame that cuts through every shred of dignity a person has left and leaves them gasping for breath. “****, I’m sorry,” she swore under her breath. “Look, I can get it if you’ll just…” Unfortunately, Ty was already gone, pressed by his gentlemanly code to clean.
So, she did the only thing she could do: Mag stumbled to the bathroom.
After rinsing and brushing her teeth, she took a step back to lean on the pedestal sink. Her eyes raked over each flaw, loudly announcing her horrid appearance and then every little inch of skin that needed covering. Being in the bathroom, with her fingers gripping at smooth porcelain, reminded her of the many nights she’d drank to forget. She sighed, splashing water over her face a few times before trying to reassemble her appearance.
After succeeding, she walked back to the living room. Ty was picking up a few straggling items left over from his cleaning as she sat back down on the couch, head in her hands. She took a deep inhale as he sat, sitting up in a slightly happier manner. “Yeah,” she laughed. “You owe me a hell of a lot of apologies. Fortunately, I think cleaning made up for most of them.”
The sun was shining, the birds were out, children littered the park… Today was, just like every other day, disgustingly perfect. Thoughts about her night with Ty had roused her at the ungodly morning hour of 10. Curse him and his southern charm for invading her dreams. He needed to learn to mind his own space, and to realize that fricking dream flooding was not okay. Except it wasn’t his fault, exactly.. it was Mag’s own brain repeatedly running with its obsession. She frowned inwardly. It had been a whole 10 hours and her internal dialogue hadn’t forgotten him. This issue needed to be remedied post-haste.
Gleeful giggles from a gaggle of girls grated against her generosity, slowly grinding it down to the grain. This granted a glare from the glowering grouch. Envious of their childish delight, Magnum hardly stopped to give them a second glance as she walked past. In the brief moment of staring, however, she was able to see six young girls and two adults, one with a plethora of knots tangling her strands of hair. Mag's feet struck the ground deftly, making absolutely no sound as she walked around the paved sections of the park. The wandering, though aimless, gave her space to think that she desperately needed. “Children, why can’t you go play elsewhere? Some of us have bigger problems than shoelaces,” she growled in discontent.
A lone robot strolled across the park of its own accord. Magnum thought back to a few weeks ago when the announcement had first come out: New York had released robo-cops to lessen the death rate in conflicts with mutants. They supposedly scanned for an X gene and handled the problem on their own. This made her immediately nervous. If the robot could really determine that she had powers, then it would mark her. Combined with all of the other sins in her file, being labeled as a mutant would kill her chances at semi-normal (if illegal) life. She turned on her heel, slowly making her way toward the trees to avoid attention. If she climbed, this little scout shouldn’t be able to recognize her as a mutant, and she could escape the shrill joyous cries of little girls.
Well, that was settled. He had accepted that her name was Magnum, and provided her with his own: Jiri. It was all she could do to keep from laughing as her 'brain passenger' tried to act like the toughest person on the block. Although she was good at fist fights, Mag was pretty dang certain that there were people here would could beat her without batting an eye (she was just that tiny). However, she had to admire his egotism. Not many people could walk into her life and roll with the punches like he had been doing in the past half hour. More than that, he almost seemed to be enjoying it. When he started to sass the race manager, though, she cautioned him, “Hey, be careful, I’m on commission to race here. Don’t ruin it.”
As the bills slipped into her hand, Mag’s laughter spilled over. She found his thoughts hilarious, namely the ‘holy crap, why was he in high school, clearly drag racing was what the smart boys and girls did’ commentary. She didn’t manage to recompose herself until after the bills (all 3 grand of them) finished their sliding exchange. Jiri was well on his way back to her car, a few thousand dollars heavier, by the time she managed to talk. “Don’t drop out of school, racing is a short term thing that lasts as long as the cops don’t catch you, your reflexes don’t fail, and your competition doesn’t kill you.”
Someone at a care would have labeled her harsh. Someone at a military field hospital would have called her soft. Either way, although she didn’t enjoy seeing Ty wince and writhe, she was a little rough while cleaning and bandaging him up. Blame it on her gang experience. As far as the bloody sweatshirt, Mag still wasn’t sure that she wanted it sitting on her couch (she’d just purchased a new one and was now regretting the fact that it wasn’t leather). However, the blood splotches were beginning to dry into a deep brown, so she started worrying about it less.
“I’m going to show you what happened,” Ty said, seeming to walk a fine line between whatever ideals around strength he possessed and shrinking back into himself from the pain. He explained the process, and something told her that the words coming from his mouth contained truth. Gray scale meant lies, color meant reality. This was simple enough to follow, except that his eyes proceeded to glow for a few minutes and, when they stopped glowing, he looked like he could wretch all over her hardwood floor. His nausea faded, leaving them back where they began. The quarter hadn’t even changed shape, which Magnum found to be slightly disappointing. He offered it to her as if the object held new found significance, causing her to take it with caution.
The moment her fingers touched its metallic surface, images invaded her brain, nearly paralyzing her own thought process.
It was a beautiful day, children, leaves, trees, a park…. And lots of men. In fact, Ty’s vision seemed to target the males. Especially the rich-looking ones. The pictures were in color. At first, her brain shrugged this off as the fact that he was bisexual and hadn’t admitted it yet. As his eyes continued to seek out the men, though, Mag realized that he was target hunting. Of course. Well, at least he wasn’t wearing black this time.
Then, the visions made her feel like she was falling. Her reaction was to scream, loud and shrill, but whether or not this actually happened or had been contained within her mind could not be discerned through the assault of memories. Before his fall could be completed, the quarter showed her a picture of the sky. Obviously, Ty had landed on his back. Someone went to help him, and then everything turned bright red. She freaked out again, but less violently than the first time. Red vision trumped plummeting toward the ground any day.
An image of a small girl with four dead bodies appeared, then disappeared as she got the distinct impression that he was walking away. After a short distance, he stumbled, fell again, and then the lady who had helped him the first time was back at his side. She walked him to Mag’s apartment.
All of a sudden, the images stopped. Her mind was her own again. Spikes of pain shot through her brain, down her spine and found their way to her stomach. Seconds after the images ceased, she discovered that her stomach was not nearly as strong as Ty’s. Remnants of last night’s dinner (mostly just acid by now) ended up on the floor as her forehead glistened with a cold sweat. Mag realized that she could deal with blood, guts, and gore, but mutations were an entirely different beast. For once, she was glad that the only real side effect of her powers was exhaustion to the point of incapacitation.
To her face, Ty recounted a story of taking what any elementary school boy would consider fun, then tried to claim that he took another tumble after his tree branch walking stick broke. Magnum didn't believe a word of it. "Fell out of a tree," she scoffed, in a slightly heavier Hispanic accent than usual. "You expect me to believe that bulls*** story would put you in this condition?" No matter her complaints, though, Magnum moved up beside Ty and managed to position herself where she could support about half of his weight. He would still have to balance, being as he was significantly taller and most likely heavier than her.
"Sorry to drop in on you like this," he apologized. To this, she responded with her best attempt at a joke: "Better me than the cops," Despite the lightheartedness of the comment, she remained extremely angry at the situation - whoever hurt him was going to pay. As if reflecting this sentiment, the air surrounding her became slightly thicker, but this was nothing compared last time's storm.
With a lot of effort, they managed to make it into the apartment and to the couch, where she set him before going off to get rags and hydrogen peroxide. On the way back from the bathroom, she also grabbed a gauze wrap and a small wooden dowel. "Can you move without it hurting, or do I need to splint something before I worry about the blood you're depositing onto my couch?" she asked, kneeling on the carpeted floor before him with her medical supplies. Ty definitely needed to be more careful... Later, she'd realize how the sirens were probably his fault and she'd berate him over those too.
As evidenced by the hastily applied sweatpants and water dripping down her tank top's back, Magnum had just removed herself from the shower. Her makeup was significantly worse than usual, having been transformed to watery black streams by the spray and her skin had dark red splotches from where the water was hot enough to turn to steam before touching her skin. This was the ritual of waking up - burn away the memories. It reminded her that the pain of the present required more attention than the pain of the past. It also made her feel clean.
When Ty knocked, she had been wandering bare around her apartment, attempting to find a towel or other sort of cloth to dry with when the sirens began. Hers had been soiled with the mud from yesterday's fight. Stupid water manipulators, she grumbled internally. After ditching her reaction to run, Mag shrugged it off, assuming that some hungover hobo had tried to break into someone's house under the impression it was theirs. That happened often. Which is why, needless to say, Ty's presence caught her off guard. No one ever knocked on her door, much less calling out - in an extremely pathetic voice - "Hey, Mag? You there?" She exhaled a silent breath of relief when she realized that the cops hadn't come knocking.
Besides this being the most attractive of outfits to greet a love interest with, she had to wonder why he'd come knocking on her door. Their meeting wasn't until later this evening. Another part of her wondered why he sounded on the edge of crying or screaming. Despite her reservations about appearance, she opened the door. The sight that met her eyes was definitely more pitiful than her own state: Ty, heavily bruised, hunched over, and smearing crimson red over her apartment walls. "¡Coño!" she flipped out, completely forgetting that Ty's first language was not Spanish. "¿Qué carajo hiciste?"
Magnum was terrified - not of Charlotte, but of herself. As the first whip struck, she had poured so much concentration into attempts at defusing the clouds that she didn’t notice it until the water crackled in the air, losing a few bits of liquid. Immediately, she jumped back. This was followed quickly by the admonishment of, “Don’t be a coward.” The whip moved again, this time coming almost to her face. It was close enough for Magnum to notice something: the very tip of the water stream started disintegrating. She did not know if Charlotte had noticed, but she knew that this was her power’s way of protecting her. The rain from the clouds could pour down all it wanted, but the water manipulator’s streams would never hit.
Raindrops began to swirl around the blonde’s dome, coiling tighter as they slid to the ground in a never ending supply while attempting to exhaust the demi-forcefield the manipulator had placed around herself. Lightning crashed through the air. Magnum had no extensive practice with her power and was working almost entirely off of emotions and mental images. Currently, she was trying to recreate a small scale hurricane around Charlotte to cut off her supply of water. This might result in the two girls becoming locked in a battle over molecules, which Magnum prepared for by advancing. She couldn’t walk on water, but she was fairly certain that if she lunged and managed to catch her opponent they would both go toppling into the lake. Based on body builds, it would be easy for Magnum to dominate a close range fist fight.
And that would be how she could win - by force rather than power.
Well, almost nothing blew up. Magnum noticed his nerves, but not nearly as much as she noticed the fireworks exploding in her chest. Of course, these were not real explosions, but nerves and “butterflies” of happiness flittering around as they used her body like a jungle gym. These emotions left excitement, everywhere they touched, the kind that made someone feel at home even while endorphins flooded their brain.
All of the muscles in her body were relaxed. Miraculously, very little alcohol had been involved. Here she was - eyes locked with someone she’d met only hours before - feeling so at peace that her powers affected not a single drop of dew in the surrounding air. Magnum was focused on one thing, and one thing only: Ty. The way his hand felt brushing through her hair, the way it glided across just enough to cause small goosebumps, softly tugging in a way that emulated massage.
Throughout this, their eyes remained fixed on each other. She slid a little bit closer to him, making the heat convection a conduction system. Bliss flooded her system, causing what would otherwise be referred to as a melting sensation. After the longest while, she allowed her eyes to stray downward (to his lips), and then closed them. Her head found a small niche in his chest and settled there.
The moment was perfect, and, as long as Ty didn’t have a bloodthirsty gang nipping at his heels, Magnum caught a glimpse of herself enjoying moments like this in the future.
Magnum knew exactly what he meant about regions not meant to be inked, but that didn’t stop her from laughing. It was a very light hearted, airy giggle - the kind that she liked in other girls, but rarely produced herself. She was genuinely happy. Her lack of shoes allowed her to bring her feet up onto the couch, which is what she did as Ty’s arm slid around her. Had anyone been looking closely, they would have seen her cheeks tint a light shade of pink. This was not the most surprising development, though… No, a few deep inhalations later he shifted. After noticing this shift, curiosity caused her to tip her head into a slight upward angle just before his lips met hers. Mag, though quite shocked, was pleasantly surprised. This likely explained why she ended up kissing him back rather than smacking him away. However, just as quickly as it appeared, his kiss was gone.
It left her reeling - in typical girl fashion - though this time it was not a question of whether she liked him, but whether she was ready to engage in another relationship yet. If tonight’s earlier escapade indicated anything, it was that she had not come to terms with her ex’s death (though she was obviously acknowledging his absence). The action a few moments ago had not felt like cheating though, implying that she was on the way to coping with the tragedy.
The confusion did not deter her responses. Mag turned to his shoulder and smiled, attempting to hide this action behind his muscle shirt. After an extended (but not awkward) period of silence, she found a response articulate her feelings. “I liked that,” the words came out softer than intended, being mildly muffled by black cloth.
They laughed together. The cheer of two usually depressed people filled the space with a sort of melodic beauty, as if the universe were respecting that such events were infrequent and precious. “That’s truly a shame, painless really is the way to go for some things,” she giggled, a note of seriousness in her voice. A tattoo without needles would be fricking amazing.
Then, he mentioned that she hadn’t pissed anyone off in the 5 hours they’d known each other… Well, that wasn’t completely true. “For starters, there’s all the men I snitched from tonight. Some won’t notice, but some will. Generally speaking, though, I think we might manage to coexist by mutual irritation.” The words sounded funny rolling off her tongue, but Magnum hoped they made sense. They did in her mind.
She noticed when he sat closer to her. Mag responded in turn, leaning over a little so that their shoulders touched and Ty was more or less supporting her. Her eyes closed as she revealed in the moments of touch. “What are you going to do when you run out of room? Expand into your lower torso?” It had been a long time since Magnum had enjoyed herself this much. The shine that Blaze had said he loved - the spark that appeared rarely, and hadn’t shown itself at all after his death - it was finally back in her eyes. Tonight? Tonight was a good night, with good company and good drinks. Magnum was happy.
The urge to laugh became too great, so she gave in about the time that Ty leaned back in his moment of bliss. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, but a remark on how absurd and yet completely believable his story was. It also may have been the alcohol loosening her tight emotional restraints and allowing her to actually have a good time. Luckily, no coffee was spilled in the process. When her senses returned, Mag found herself smiling. She cut her eyes over to him with what could be described as a devilish grin. “So the moral of your story is to never piss off an ink manipulator, unless I want to become a work of art,” she teased. “I guess it’s a good thing that I’ve always wanted a tattoo, then… because I have a habit of pissing people off.”
She brought the coffee to her lips and sipped it again, waiting for a retaliatory comment of some sort. Though the brew itself wasn’t bad, it seemed strange to be drinking caffeine this late at night - for this, her tongue protested slightly with every drink. In between fighting with her tastebuds, Magnum removed her heels, because even tragically short people get tired of wearing death-traps strapped to their toes.
