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.
The worst thing about being in the shower is that Jack felt weak in the knees, and the floor was slippery. If that wasn't a recipe for disaster, she wasn't sure what was. Jack gladly accepted the towel, welcoming the kiss that they exchanged before toweling herself off, too. She ran the towel through her hair (her hair, how novel) before wrapping the sheet around her. The air was cold agaist her skin, which had been warmed by the shower (and the activities throughout). Goosebumps raised on her arms as Emma took her hand and led her down the hallway.
There were five dresses all splayed-out upon the bed, all ridiculously long, all different colors. None of them were Jack's style, honestly-- because dresses weren't Jack's style to begin with. She wore mens' clothes. Those were what was comfortable to her. She didn't wear dresses.
"Which one's your least favorite?" Jack answered Emma's offer with a question of her own. Even if "none of them fit her" and they'd "all look hot on Jack", the prawn didn't want to choose a dress that her hostess liked, only to accidentally tear through the stretch-knit when she reverted. Not only was it a distinct possibility-- Jack believed it to be inevitable, particularly given how robust her chest was.
Once the least favorite had been declared, the towel was shed. (It would seem that, even in human form, Jack didn't know what it meant to be self-conscious about her physique. She accepted the offerings of panties and (begrudgingly) a sportsbra. The prawn wasn't sure what size bra she wore and wasn't about to try on anything that could accidentally impale her. Once sports bra and panties were wriggled into, Jack pulled the dress over her head. The skirt fell about her, and ended just above her ankles. Jack looked down at herself, than swayed slightly, watching the skirt move around her. Everything was so... squishy and not-angular.
Jack smiled at her hostess, and shrugged.
"It'll be hard to top the shower," she said, humored, "I'd hate to invite myself to your pantry, but... I know that things taste different when I look how I usually do. I'd love to have a soda, or... maybe we could go grab a bite to eat?"
It was, however, raining... and Jack was in a sun dress...
>> ”Security f’r a club is its own animal. The right mix of alcohol an’ bad decisions can damn near start a riot.”
The prawn rumbled a laugh of affirmation. Wasn't that the truth. She sipped her mixed whiskey drink. She wasn't sure what to say beyond that, besides that Michael's interpretation was accurate.
>> ”How long y’ work security there? An’ How long y’ been runnin’ this club?”
"Security sore six years, or close to it," the prawn clicked, "Running here sore... al-nost a year I sink."
She'd given notice at Chrysalis back before... times-that-won't-be-named... and that had gone down in June of last year. Had it really almost been a year. She blew a lost whistle, in spite of herself.
>> ”Is there anythin’ y’ need from me security-wise? Either overt or covert t’ help manage the worst uh times.”
Straight to business. Jack could talk business.
"Since it's so exclusi'e, hasn't had duh usual clu' dra=na y'see around," Jack murmured, "I sink... jus' 'ein' around sore iss sings go sou-s is e-nuss. Just kee' doin' what'cha 'een doin'."
Honestly, the trouble in this place was fairly few and far between. Since everyone was either high-profile or members of Inferno, they were less likely to cause scenes... except... those who were more likely to cause scenes. The prawn let her gaze slide around the room and, at a reasonable distance, saw Nate gesturing towards her, pointing Jack out to a redhead woman. The prawn gave a casual salute of acknowledgement to one of very few of the other familiar faces at the gathering.
>> "I have to say.... Those novels don't have anything on you."
A bashful chuckle answered the smaller woman. Jack lay beside her, a primary hand upon her waist. Her face was burrowed against the crown of Skye's head.
“You slatter nee,” the prawn all but purred, nuzzling Skye affectionately, “'ut I had sun, too. Sank you.”
Jack had been brimming with pre-molt hormones. But now that the deed had been done, the prawn was comfortably sleepy. Idly, Jack trailed her hand along the young woman's side, soft lavender eyes surveying Skye's expression.
“Wanna just slee’ in here? You're welcome to, iss you don't mind cuddling wiss sun one as shar’ as nee.”
If Skye wasn't the type to want to cuddle afterwards, Jack would need to prep the couch before she conked out.
Posted by "Chief" on Mar 3, 2018 21:04:55 GMT -6
Ranger likes this
Beta Mutant
darkturquoise
lesbian with exceptions
it's complicated
502
113
Apr 25, 2024 23:17:11 GMT -6
Sophy
The bartender slid a rocks glass towards the prawn. Jack nodded appreciatively, lifting the glass to swirl the drink contemplatively. She turned to face the club proper, which had at this point accumulated a few more attendees.
Socializing. Yeah, no problem. No problem at all. Jack unhooked her surgical mask, and took a sip. Jack was more inclined to seek out a familiar face. Devon had arrived, and… was that Nate?
In her bout if indecision, someone else found her first. He looked very… Western. And he seemed to be familiar with Jack.
>> ”Howdy, Chief. Glad t’ see y’ here, been tryin’ t’ find a time t’ make it down here t’ meet y’.”
Cool lavender eyes studied the man. Was he a former Chrysalis patron? No, he had to be Haven, that's why he was here.
>> ”Michael Hunter, head of security. ”
Oh. Jack extended her hand, exchanging a handshake.
“'leasure to neet you,” she clicked. She wasn't much for conversation, so she cleaved to something they had in common, “You know, I used to work security at a-nudder nightclu’, 'e-sore Hadden snatched nee u’. Was dere sore years.”
It probably wasn't hard to imagine, given that she had over a foot of height on the man in front of her.
Emma sauntered towards the shower, and set the water running. There was an initial spurt of frigid water, which stung at the woman's pale skin. Jack winced at the sensation, sucking air through her teeth. Through some quick adjustments on Emma's part, the water turned warm, and Jack relaxed. She would honestly me content to just stand beneath the water, but something more pressing stood before her. Emma gave her some directive about the handprint, and Jack nodded despite only somewhat hearing her.
Jack stooped low for the kiss, and was not disappointed by a hungry response. The way Emma kissed her made Jack's knees weak, and the former prawn mostly followed along due to lack of experience alone. Both of Jack's hands lingered near Emma's neck, occasionally pushing into the other woman's hair. Her hands slipped lower when Emma began the assault against Jack's neck, and her efforts earned a rewarding groan. Everything was so much more magnified, so much more sensitive.
The taller woman had pushed her hands up Emma's shirt, by the time the smaller woman asked the most essential question. Jack was already putty in the other woman's hands, so the request to join was well received. Jack pressed her lips to Emma's, nipping at her lip, while deft hands helped remove the fabric obstacles between them. Her movements were careful and measured, but the kisses with which Jack interspersed with each article of clothing shed showed that she was eager to be joined.
The pink came back with a vengeance, especially as the other woman closed the distance between them. A hand pushed it's way through Jack's hair, drawing her in for a kiss. The taller woman resisted, momentarily, because the sensation was altogether foreign, and she was in disbelief. Her response softened, but only shortly just before Emma withdrew again.
A bewildered, flushed, and luminously-pink woman stared blankly at Emma as she dismissed herself. Jack was pointed in the direction of the shower. Dumbly, the woman in sodden clothes plodded towards the bathroom. Emma flit about her, but the bewildered look never left the prawn's expression. With absentminded hands, Jack prodded at her own lips. So that's what a real kiss, between two humans, was like.
She became dimly aware that Emma had asked her a question, and her head snapped in that direction. Something about dresses.
"A dress would probably be best," Jack said distractedly, "Something stretchy, I don't want to rip anything when I revert."
When the other woman departed, Jack began to peel out of her wet clothes, first the pants, which fell heavily to the ground, then her boxers. Then, her wet tank top was peeled over her head, and a very naked blond woman (whose appearance was entirely foreign to the prawn) stood facing her in the mirror. A quiet chuckle escaped her, "Holy crap."
Jack twisted and turned, switching between looking at her reflection and surveying herself directly. There was a handprint on her waist, but that was by far the least bizarre thing for her eyes to behold. Wow, human!Jack had a really nice butt! Wait, Emma had said more than just "Let me get you a dress," hadn't she?
The door swung back open, and the prawn... forgot to be self-conscious, for a moment. Just standing as naked as a jaybird in the middle of a stranger's bathroom, surveying herself... and now Emma was bearing witness to it. Slowly, Jack realized that most would be embarrassed in this situation. A flare of pink, a flush creeping into her face and neck and shoulders.
"Uh..." she smiled-- What else was there to do?-- and ducked into the shower. Why? Emma would want to know. Jack peered back out, "The... kisswasnice." Did she really just say that?
Wide eyes, flicking to the carpet, "I... don't know how the shower works?" more pink, "You could come show me, maybe." Now she was looking at Emma again, a coy smile touched her features, "And we could try kissing again?"
Among other things. They probably didn't even need the bathroom lights, right now, with the pink, pulsating light that was emanating from Jack.
The worst thing about feathery touches was that, with chitin, Jack couldn't feel them. The signals that Skye seemed to be sending, however, were very clear, and sent a shiver through the larger mutant.
"Is diss going... where I sink it's going?" the prawn murmured. Reflexively, one of her primary hands raised, catching Skye's chin and tilting her face towards towards Jack. she wanted to look her in the eyes, "Cuz iss it is... I'n totally into it."
Oh, she was very into it. That was one way to put it. Jack carefully stooped down to pick Skye up, sliding the smaller woman onto the counter. Learning to kiss with a mouth like Jack's had taken a lot of practice with Zinnia... and she didn't want to gross her newfound friend out, either.
"Whaddya say... wanna ex'erience a trashy san-tasy ro-nance sirst hand?" Jack laughed, tilting her head at the other woman. There was no other word for it. Fooling around with Jack wasn't exactly like fooling around with any random woman.
The room was drowned in pink lights, emanating from the smaller mutant woman on the counter. If the affirmation from the light-show wasn't plenty, a soft but resolute "Hell yeah," encouraged the prawn to go one step further. Once again, Jack scooped Skye into her arms, this time padding out of the kitchen. She held the smaller woman close, seemingly effortlessly, one hand beneath her thighs, the other on the small of her back. Jack's mouthparts carefully entertained the nape of the smaller woman's neck, the lobe of her ear. At some point, she switched the tea kettle off. Somehow, without seeing, she padded down the hall and into her room. All of this was done carefully, so carefully.
Still fully clothed, the prawn took a seat on the bed, pausing to look at the smaller woman.
"You're al'ays wel-cun to call it quits, iss you want," the prawn reassured Skye. One hand was still beneath Skye, while the other slinked beneath the other woman's shirt. The smaller mutant was practically in the prawn's lap. Still, Jack was being careful, testing the waters... she'd only been with one other person, and never someone she'd only just met. If Skye decided this was too much, too real, or not something she wanted... the prawn would back-off.
Jack lingered behind Emma as she unlocked the door, shifting her weight from foot-to-foot. Emma welcomed Jack in, asking which Jack would prefer first. The taller woman curled her fingers into the fabric of her shirt, peeling the wet fabric from stomach.
"Shower first is probably best," she murmured, "Just my luck I'll catch a cold while I'm all fleshy."
She gave a crooked smile, blissfully unaware of the fact that she was being appraised by the other woman. The floor was warm against her cool feet. And, for the first time, Jack was realizing how chilly she was. She shrugged off her coat, which was heavy from being water-logged. She draped it over her arm, looking rather soaked.
"Do you have somewhere good, for me to dump these?" Jack asked, "I'm gonna ruin your floors with the puddle that's forming."
She held her coat in front of her, and pushed a coy hand through her hair. The pink was returning again, just a tinge of color creeping into her hair.
Thankfully, the prawn had already set the water to boiling. Her head was reeling far too much, now, even for such a simple task as that. She had to pry her eyes away from Skye. Jack nodded dumbly in response to the thanks, primary hands bumbling into the cabinet for two ceramic mugs. She nearly dropped them, too, but managed to catch them and deposit them without breaking any of them.
>> "Like what you see?"
Jack could feel her face getting hot, and a ripple of her own bioluminescent light-show rippled up the spines of her arms, and across her cheeks. The lighting in the kitchen was dim enough that her lights were faintly apparent, too.
"Yeah," the prawn admonished, her eyes flicking back towards Skye. She wanted to stipulate that she liked the lights from Sky's mutation-- yeah, totally just that, and not that she was checking her out at all. Oh, no no no-- but her throat clenched, and her words failed her, "I... I do."
She planted her hands against the counter, leaning casually. How did normal people broach this subject? How did normal people form complete sentences when faced with an absolute vision? Or look someone like Skye in the eyes??? Jack released a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding.
"I'n sorry," she said, an apologetic smile knotting at her mandibles, "I... I'n trying not to 'e cree'y, 'ut you're really cute, and, un... you nake it hard to sink clearly."
A nervous chirr. Jack rubbed her head with a primary hand before retrieving her small basket of tea, and carrying it to the smaller woman. Her bioluminescent pores flared slightly when the distance between them was closed, and the prawn held the basket of tea out as a peace offering, "I has a good selection, choose whate'er sla'or you'd like."
With her free hand, Jack idly twirled a lock of hair-- huh, her hair was purple, wasn't it? Diverting her attention to this change caused the color to start to drain out of it. While Emma spilled a summary of her life story, Jack was quite the contrary. Despite the direct line of inquir, she was tight-lipped. She hadn't even told Zinnia, her last serious girlfriend, about when her upbringing had taken a sudden turn south... why on earth would she tell a total stranger? And, just like that, Emma's apologizing again, squeezing her hand. The gesture with her thumb against the back of the other woman's hand pushed color into Jack's cheeks. If anyone called attention to it, though, she'd blame the weather.
"You have to be much more familiar with me, to unlock my backstory," she said simply, playfully, looking at Emma through her lashes. A smirk twisted at her lips, an expression that just felt so natural. Emma's honest response about Jack's kindness was met by another attempt at downplaying the situation, "Well... I mean... I'm not a native New Yorker-" she winked cheekily, "-any decent person would make sure you were okay."
The promise of food was appealing, but Jack didn't want to impose too much. She wordlesssly shook her head, and let herself be led onto the streets ahead. The pavement was cold and wet beneath her feet, but thankfully it had not been a snowy day. Jack could feel the bumpiness of the sidewalk... she stepped on a bottle cap, and it actually hurt! Her gaze unfastened itself from Emma (how long had she been staring?) and pointed towards her feet. The last thing she needed was to step on something that could give her a cut or an infection.
Before she knew it, they were at Emma's apartment complex... and, a short journey later, they were inside. It was a relief to be inside, out of the elements. Jack's wet feet peeled against the warm tile floor. The taller woman bobbled aimlessly around the foyer until Emma caught-up, and then trailed dutifully behind her. Jack didn't know where they were going, afterall. She breathed a low whistle.
"Nice place," she commented. This was just the entry, of course, but before the prawn had moved-in to Devon's complex, her place had been barely liveable. Then Jack went ahead and blew a hole in the side of her complex. Ha, now it deifitely wasn't livable. Carefully, Jack followed Emma up the stairs, keeping her eyes trained on her feet as opposed to Emma's... but staring was rude. Jack looked back to her feet.
Jack had actually come down before the party proper. She was the manager, after all. The frozen doors rose her ire-- how the Hell could she do her job if she couldn't open the goddamm door?! She had half a mind to blow the dam things off their hinges, but thought better of it. Jack was mid-phone call to Devon and almost back to her apartment when the vibrating notification of an email reverberated against her chitin. An impromptu night off, huh?
She wasn't much for trendiness, but she did have a few nice vests with slacks and ties. Tonight's ensemble was predominantly black, with a midnight blue shirt. Her surgical mask was a solid black, too. Overall, she looked very dapper. The prawn stepped lightly towards the door, where Haley stood. Jack thought of her as a shadow-king, the backup for when Devon was out, though she knew Haley was, more specifically, Devon's assistant.
"Apologies for the lack of forewarning, Jack. Weather froze the doors shut, so we decided to make the best of it... you saw the invite, I hope? If you don't know someone, get to know then. And welcome in."
The prawn huffed and nodded. She much preferred managerial stuff over socializing. Ah, well. The prawn stalked over to the bar, her antennae lifting at the sight of the bartender.
"Evening, Chief," the bartender greeted.
Jack nodded. Without any further words exchanged, the bartender understood precisely what Jack wanted to drink. Jack leaned upon the counter while he worked, her eyes sweeping the floor. There was one other person there, a vaguely familiar woman in a skimpy dress. Jack elected to get her drink first. Then she'd think about being social.
Jack rooted around the kitchen, filling her kettle with water, setting it into the base, and flicking the switch to turn the kettle on. She’d get some tea boiling, whether or not Skye wanted any. The prawn strolled back into the living room, only to be met with an eyeful of Skye’s bare midriff and low-cut shirt. She was slender but curvy in-places.
“I… started roiling sun water sore tea,” the prawn announced, “Dunno is you drink it, or… got sun cocoa too.”
Consider her attention snagged. Skye’s hair was pink, and her hands, too, were luminous.
“It’s… it’s not nuch,” Jack said lightly, her eyes drinking in the sight of the other mutant. She could guess what pink meant, but… she didn’t want to read too much into things.
Jack’s hair flickered pink at the sudden contact, and a flush crept into her ears. That was easy to say when she looked like this! But a compliment was still a compliment.
“Force of habit,” she sputtered, managing a closed-mouth smile, this time. Emma went-on to say that she hadn’t encountered many mutants until she’d left Washington for New York, and the remark made Jack’s blood run cold. An anxious and lingering purple rushed into her hair, and her smile faltered.
“Oh, you’re from Washington? What part?” her voice was still upbeat, but a note of hesitance had wiggled its way in, “I’m from Mount Vernon.”
The mention of her home-state had chased away any of the cheerful pinks and oranges that had wriggled into her hair, and a stubborn purple hung-on. A bashful smile still quirked at Jack’s features at Emma’s flattery, however.
“You did see me before this-“ Jack gestured vaguely at her face, “-happened, right?”
There was no hostility in her tone, just… a sort of self-deprecating humor. Here Emma was, insisting that she was cute and pretty and all of these things, but it was all the result of Emma’s mutation. It was artificial. And yes, it felt damn good, but that didn’t change the fact that it wasn’t real. She wasn’t human, she wasn’t cute. She was some hell-spawned anthropomorphic shrimp-and-rainbow amalgamation.
Most of these thoughts were dispelled when Emma took Jack’s hand and led her off the train. Apparently she’d been more lost in thought than she’d realized. Jack followed dumbly. One thing that this new face did not change was that she was still very, veeeery weak to women.
The varying surfaces beneath the woman’s bare feet felt so foreign and strange, and so Jack took to watching her feet as they wandered through the station—mostly in order to be sure that she didn’t step on glass or some such thing. The pavement was damp and she could feel it—cold, too. The metallic sting of the escalator was almost unbearable, and yet there was also something so wonderful about it.
“Do you… drink soda?” it was an entirely random question, but—with her modified tastebuds, Jack hadn’t been able to eat a good many things (such as junk food). That could be something else that she’d try while not-prawn-y.
