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 little purrs and shivers only encouraged her in her quest to ‘figure this out’ as it were. And it was undoubtly kissing now. A little extraordinary but hey, Jac was an extraordinary kind of girl. Her hands rested neatly on the top of the chest armour, fingertips tracing the outline of a collarbone. Most of the times she had brushed, bumped or touched against her friend had been the solid exterior of the shell. She perhaps had touched against this softer skin once or twice when they were making the costume, but never with such intention. It was nice, and it felt like a metaphor.
Jac answered her question in the affirmative before asking her own and a thrill ran down her spine to linger under the massive hand that rested there. Was it ok? It was so much more than ok. And they’d waited long enough, the noodles could wait a little longer.
“Very ok with me,” she agreed, leaning in for round two, “and I wouldn’t choose anywhere or anyone else.”
Ok, well maybe not the middle of her parents living room, and she would have brought some flowers if she’d thought this was going to be on the cards. She’d hoped, sure. Daydreamed even. But the reality of it was so much better.
-x-x-x-
Several minutes passed in gradually more confident kisses across maxillae and the softer parts of neck and throat before the smell of the noodles permeated through to the spare part of her brain. Consider it figured. She drew back a little before bumping foreheads gently with the prawn.
“I’ll grab us some plates.”
She moved to the sideboard, keeping one eye on the prawn as she did so. Part longing to go back and push the noodles off for a few more minutes, part fleeting concern that Jac would be too shaken by her forwardness and take the opportunity to bolt.
To be fair- things were a little new for her too. She was used to soft lips, maybe a little difference between them, like moustache or lipstick, but still very lipish. Nothing quite like the mandibles that confronted her now. She was willing to give it a go- mash faces until something like kissing happened. Jac seemed contented to take it slower. She shivered at the tickling against her neck, but leant into it.
“Hmmm, because you’re beautiful,” she paused to peck the cheek closest to her, mindful not to get spiked, “and sweet,” more kisses across her temple, “and I want to be more than friends.”
Obviously.
She guided Jac’s chin towards her, scanning the big purple eyes for permission before trying a more front-on approach. She had seen Jac eat before, so she knew a little about the mouth structure but not intimately. Not as intimately as this, for sure. The largest pair of mandibles moved aside as she tilted in- as if to grip the sides of her face and keep her steady (these were for eating after all) but within there were smaller pairs, and these was what she focussed her attention on. Her hands skittered gently over the rainbow carapace, dodging spines and following the grooves that allowed movement. After a few moments she drew back for air, even though she didn’t really need to, to check in again. It was amazingly heard to properly look at someone you were that close to.
“Is that ok?” The kissing? The being more than friends? “Do you want to slow down and have some noodles?”
Because really, what went better with awkward advances at a relationship than noodles?
“I…” Just want to be friends? Have personal space boundaries? Have a boyfriend?!?!
”Was dat..” even allowed? The best you got? Where she thought this was going?
Panic gripped Zinnia and once again she cursed her time away getting out of practice reading the non-standard facial expressions. She was pretty sure mouth wide open was shock on any face though. The creeping up the steps seemed like embarrassment, or fear. Had she scared her off? Stepped so far over the line it was a dot to her?
Then her face was engulfed by a massive hand and her fears skittered away as antennae brushed gently against her hair. Jac’s eyes were respectfully closed, but Zinnina found herself unable to look away from the shimmering blues and greens of her did-this-make-her-her-girlfriend?-’s shell. Was Jac blushing? Something touched her cheek. She was too close to see it, but it definitely wasn’t a finger from the massive hand holding her still.
She closed her own eyes and tilted her chin up to meet… nothing.
She waited a beat then opened her eyes to Jac’s confession. Oh. This was tricky. She tilted her hand to catch the sliding primary hand as it slid down her arm and she held it tightly, her hand clamped fully around one of the large fingers.
“Maybe…” "'erhats," She halted to let the prawn finish what she was saying. She felt her own position on the matter was pretty clear. "We could... sig-ure it out?” Yeeeeeees. ”Inside?". The keys had never been retrieved so quickly and the door swung open. She tossed them at the entry table and placed the noodles far more carefully than her pounding heart wanted her to on the dining table. Her hand never let go and she practically dragged her friend into the house.
Not that she could have moved her if she didn’t want to go. Which meant she wanted to go.
“I’m game if you’re game.”
She surveyed the height difference and planned her attack. Making careful note of the face spikes she mirrored the cheek holding from a few moments earlier.
“But you have to come down here.”
Or she would have to fetch a stool from somewhere. She would totally do it too. Maybe she should start wearing platform heels? She tilted her face up towards the mandibles. They could figure this out. They had all evening. Or at least until the noodles cooled.
Oh yes, such a shame. She definitely hadn’t jumped at the thought of having the house to themselves. Not at all. In fact she wasn’t certain that the family hadn’t planned the camping trip precisely for that reason. Compared to some of her past relationships this was one her parents were very OK with, not a bruise or a broken promise in sight.
“Yeah I guess having both the boys in the house at the same time was too much teen-smell and they had to get out in the air.”
Summer time did seem to make the house feel smaller with everyone crammed in all hours of the day instead of at school for the bulk of it. She climbed the two steps to the front door and turned to face her friend to ask for the duffle to retrieve her keys from the side pocket.
But then her mouth was out.
And they were the same height with Zinn elevated on the steps.
Eh.
She’d never been one for self-control and good decisions anyway.
Jac didn’t really have lips per se, but Zinn planted hers firmly on the external mandibles. Eyes wide open with the surprise of what she’d done. Noodles forgotten.
Jac was not the only mutant that Zinn had heard express a fear of the medical profession. For some it was the echoes of registration, fears of being somehow tagged and then rounded up later. This was usually the same people who made abrupt turns to get away from META bots, or froze every time a police car went by. Not that humans were exempted from the fear either. More than once she’d had to calm down a terrified patient, certain that the masked medic was intent on harm. Once she’d even had to help pry a patient down from the curtain rail, although that was more a drugs issue than a fear issue. Frankly she was impressed the curtains had held up to it.
The walk to the noodles was filled with conversation and comfortable silences. More than once she considered taking the hand swinging by Jac’s side, but awkwardness and the difference in height stopped her. Finally they arrived at the shop nestled between two other, equally delicious, eating establishments. Jac held the door, and her tounge as the two elders gave them uncomfortable looks. Zinn didn’t care, let them judge, there was no shame in same-sex-dating-of-a-prawn.
The chipper wait staff seemed nonplussed by the mis-matched pair and Zinn was grateful. Good customer service was highly underrated as far as she was concerned.
“To take-away please, a satay chicken with egg noodle, a serving of spring rolls, the ummm,” she listened as the larger woman rumbled her order into her ear, almost too distracted by the proximity to relay the message, “two of the organic veg with lemongrass and a grassfed beef and blackbean.”
This was a fancy noodle shop.
The staff moved with practiced energy, ducking into the kitchen and emerging with their food an almost impossibly short time later. Their utensils were in the bag which Zinn took while Jac paid. Then, onwards, to the couch of parentals to eat noodles and watch movies, and maybe cuddle a little bit… Her mind drifted back to their last sleep over and a grin accompanied by a little blush crept across her face.
“More than I expected, but less than I hoped for. They had some extra-large and extra-small beds, a tank in case they needed to be submerged, special fire and acid resistant materials, and they have a special training program for their staff on how to deal with X-positive patients. It seemed a bit geneist in my opinion, but it was better than anything we have down here.”
It was the reason she had listed it as her preference for placement, a chance to see mutant specific alterations to a system which had been neglecting them for so long.
“lots of people were nervous about ticking ‘yes’ on the mutant box, and I can’t blame them, but other than that the mutants seemed pleased to have options.”
Was it worth missing out on seeing her friend? On giving up on bagels and decent coffee. Perhaps. Then Jac was shouting her dinner and all else was put aside for their dinner date… dinner plan…
“Mmmm, I’ve been craving noodles from that place near the gym for ages!”
That whole street was full of tempting and delicious food to tempt the gym goers to reward themselves for all their hard work, and ensure they returned to burn off the calories. She had caved to pretty much all of them at one stage or another. There had been takeout places while she was away, but nothing truly compared to that New York City noodle.
“My parents are out of town if you want to eat there?”
It was closer than her old apartment, and from what she had heard there had been a bit of difficulty moving on the person that had taken over her room while she was on placement. At this stage she would be back in the old nest, until either the new roomie had finished their stint and shuffled off, or-if it continued on for too long, she would need to start hunting for something else.
She missed her like Jac’s foot missed the pavement. The mask in front of her mandibles squirmed just a little, like she wanted to say something. Or like the admission of missing her was a jaw-dropping revelation. The antennae were perked, but Zinnia couldn’t tell if that was excitement or fear. She had been away too long, fallen out of practice with reading her friend’s particular style of body language.
Their faces were quite close as the prawn fumbled to keep the duffle in hand. Was that her signal? Was she supposed to lean in for the kiss? Surely not since there was a surgical mask in the way. Jac righted herself and joked about the bag. The butterflies in her stomach settled from a blizzard to a gentle swirl. But she had missed her too. She straightened her clothes absentmindedly, had she come on too strong? Maybe her friend was just that and not interested in anything more. Could she behave herself in the friend zone?
“They had a lot of specialised chemo stuff, for cancer, and a ward that dealt in mutant-specific stuff.”
Both injuries caused by mutants and rouge powers damaging their occupants. Sometimes both. She recalled the little girl who emitted gamma radiation. Her parents had both presented with blue spots, a telltale sign of radiation poisioning. Then the kid came with unexplained burns to her hands and feet. It had taken them a while to figure out what was happening- and once they did they had put the kid in the x-ray booth until they could figure out what to do with her. When she had left they were in the process of knitting her a lead set of mittens.
“Do you want to grab something to eat and take it somewhere?”
She knew her friend didn’t love to eat in public- something about the mandibles freaked people out sometimes. Her parents and the boys were camping so that house was an option. Alternatively, she had never been to her friend's place either.
The rumble of laughter was music to Zinnia’s ears and she caught herself grinning along. Had she stopped (grinning that was) since she first clapped eyes on her favourite rainbow? It was hard to tell. She walked alongside her massive friend and for an instant considered looping her arm into the crook of the main-arm elbow (the little arms were safely hidden beneath the shirt). Then Jac shifted the bag on her shoulder, and the moment skittered by like the dust past their feet.
She should say something. Being without Jac, Zinnia had noticed just how off the market she was herself. She hadn’t realised she was on the market, per se, but having the occasional hot doctor from her placement hospital ask her out had really brought to mind a flash of shell. She had had to dodge, dip, duck, dive and dodge those advances, giving the occasional white lie about someone waiting for her back home. Some adventure.
“Well I did I lot of studying, which means I should pass my exams this time!” (hopefully) “and I got to practice a whole bunch of new skills, which is always nice”, she had practiced even more with the intensive care people than usual. Cancer was a hell of a sickness. “Oh yeah I got to see a baby being born, which I haven’t seen live before.” Live as in not-recorded, not live as in didn’t make it.
“It was a much quieter city though and I missed the hustle and bustle.” (and you) “And you.”
"I like basketball. I'm not good at it, but I like it. Swimming's cool too. What's your power do in a pool?"
Her power was always activated, even when she was breathing like a ‘normal’ person, she hadn’t noticed any particular difference when she was swimming, except that she didn’t get the initial shock many people complained about from walking into a chlorinated environment.
“No real difference, except I guess I’m better at holding my breath than other people.” Little did she know that her body was storing up the chlorine, just in case. How could she know?
At mentions of bathtime she moved for the dishcloth to mop up the worst of the chocolate water feature, they didn’t need her help for the bathtime activities. Aside from the protests regarding his ears Rown seemed more kid than dog, she would have expected him to scamper away and hind under the bed if she’d had to make a guess. She shook Jude’s offered hand.
“Nice to meet you guys.” She dug a business card out of her pocket- you never knew who you might meet, and it was always better to be prepared with contact details than not. “Always handy to have an adult contact that’s not related.” For embarrassing moments or awkward questions. She offered the card to Jude before turning her attention to the sticky. She could find her own way out, she was sure.
There was nothing wrong with meeting a publicist as far as Zinnia could tell, mutants had enough bad press, there was no harm in the Xmen getting a bit of coaching on how to present as well as possible. Jude’s derision of the idea was perhaps based on having to baby-sit a chocolate covered puppy-brother. The fact that it may have been partly due to dating a celebrity who had swarms of (occasionally violent) fangirls never crossed her mind.
"Aren't you afraid of 'wrong hands' and all that?"
She was, but the neglect of standard healthcare procedures for mutants put both them and the healthcare professionals at risk. True there was risk for the mutants who would dare participate in a study, echos of registration still lingered in many people’s minds, especially those with an active Xgene. The announcement of the METAbots had reopened old wounds, even if they were supposed to be entirely different to the robots that used to drag people off into the night.
“Yes and no, I would hope that the sort of data I would be collecting would be more like ‘in general those with an active Xgene should supplement their intake of calcium as 89% of the studied cases were lacking’, stuff like that, it can’t be weaponised, but it could really help out mutants.”
His comment about delusions made her dip her head and smile, she had been a little carried away there, it was something she thought about often, which made it easy to get sidetracked into it. He was right though, so many mutants gave up on a ‘normal’ life to follow their destiny. Even here they were surrounded by the young and impressionable, aiming to be Xmen. She wondered how many of the students who filled the mansion’s many rooms wanted to grow up and be postmen, or office workers or stay-at-home-moms. A life of normalcy was so often denied to those with the X, and a life of shortness.
“There does tend to be a skew that direction, but humans have been getting historically taller and taller, it makes sense that the next evolutional step would be taller again.”
She knew a lot of the height discrepancies between historical figures and current humans was nutritionally based, but there was nothing to say it wasn’t also evolution working away quietly behind the scenes. Again, more research needed TM.
The dregs of the chocolate beverage joined the ever growing puddle which spread across, counter, puppy and floor. Were all the mansion’s residents so messy? They would have to have some sort of permanent clean up crew on standby. Or a sentient Roomba or something.
“I’ve never played basketball, but one of my brothers does. Do you play any sports?”
Swimming was kind of a sport, although not really in the way she used it. Other than that she was distinctly sportless.
“Well… almost, it’s a Zee, but some people call it Zed. Zee for Zeebra.” Black and white, just like her. Well, maybe not just like her.
Oooh, a dead language. So useful. Actually, if he was talking about Latin and thinking at all of going into a medical profession it was useful, as a general base in Latin was where a lot of the medical terminology came from. And then he was back to the creeping thing. Gosh it was like it was something that was drilled into kids or something.
“Yeah I met her here actually, running a First Aid class. She rang me while I was at work because of the accidents, I think she was worried since she couldn’t get hold of you guys. She was on her way to a meeting or something, and I was nearby.” So there she was. “It’s just lucky I found you guys.” Must have been required to drive the plotline or something.
“I don’t know her all that well, but she seems very nice. Plus I feel like if there was ever anyone I needed to talk to about… air stuff… she’d probably be a good one.”
With the variety of mutations abounding it could be hard to ever find someone who understood the weirdness that inevitably came with it.
“I’d like to set up some sort of knowledge bank of mutations and their effects on their carriers (that sounds a bit like it’s a virus)… their people… so that the medical world can progress a bit more in helping mutants. There’s still so many gaps.”
Actually, she was probably talking to exactly the right person. Were she to write her thesis on the struggles of different mutations she could get a bunch of data all from the one source. She’d have to give him different names of course, but still…
“Do you think there’s anything particular that mutants suffer from in general different from non-Xers?”
Aside from the hatred and victimisation. And power. And chocolate messes she was pretty sure were universal. She grabbed the dish sponge and began swiping the puddle in distinctly Zeebra-y patterns.
He chose the stickiest route. Her year of work experience at a preschool should have predicted that. The teatowel provided a nice wick to channel the cocoa to the floor. The sticky drip-drip was no distraction from the mallows. She made a mental note to swipe that before she went.
Then he was loudly professing the benefits of outside, and she generally had to agree- she imagined hollers were far more appreciated surrounded by grass than by tiles. He quickly adjusted to liking the letters instead when prompted and she nodded.
“A is a great letter. Can you guess what my name starts with? Zzzz, Zzzinnia?”
She stuck her finger in the cocoa pool and traced a Z on the benchtop. She had to wipe it now anyway.
“And you Jude?”
Not the graffiti scrubbing from what she could tell from their earlier conversation. Although she wasn’t sure if that was a class per say, or more like extra-credit towards X-manship.
“Does the Mansion run French?”
Because that would almost be like cheating… Or give him the opportunity to tutor others. Either way, easy marks were easy marks…
He seemed a bit embarrassed, so she turned her attention to the spreading pool of cocoa expanding from the puppymug. A quick splash in the sink and the tea towel was suitably damp, and she used it to corral the cocoa, like a reverse moat.
“You wanna use a spoon there bud?”
She slid a silverware to the pooch. Marshmallows were a coveted prize, and no matter what context they were served in – smoores, toasted over a fire, or apparently in hot chocolate – someone was bound to get messy. It was simply a fact.
The teen gestured to a wall and Zinnia inspected it thoughtfully. It didn’t look like a mutant. So she was fairly sure the power ping was through the wall. Either that or the mutie was a perfect chameleon. Like, really perfect.
“So more like radar, less like heat vision?”
Mutation, sooooooo hot right now.
A strength indication would be helpful, keep him from choosing weak powers to borrow, or challenging people with strong powers. She idly wondered whether he could tell a mutant that didn’t know they were carrying the X-gene. Whether it had to have manifested before he could sense it in them. She ruffled Rowan’s ears and offered him another teatowl to dry his sticky paws, um, hands.
“So, Ro, what’s your favourite subject at school?”
Did small ones have subjects? Or was it a big amalgamation of everything? She couldn’t recall.
Of course he was a strong little gent. A strong little gent who needed ice bobbing alongside his mallows. She quickly obliged, blowing on the steaming beverage all the way to the freezer where she found ice cubes easily. She also shook out the teatowel and replaced the pack she had been cradling against her forehead. She plopped three cubies in the drink and brought a spare in case he needed to hold it against his lips for a bit.
“Of course you are, here. I’m sorry I made it too hot, your kettle is much better than mine.”
Technically true.
"Mutations are kind of slippery things. Like shadows that I can't see and can only kind of feel. All my power does is point to new powers. It doesn't care if I have one. If I have it, it's old. Old is not as interesting as new, I guess."
So the copying had needs, demands to be fed with new powers, suggestions to run around grabbing people and imprinting from them. No double cackling manically the whole way, ‘muahahahahaaaaa!’. She was glad he had it under control.
She leaned in obligingly, her own feet swinging just a tad less enthusiastically than Rowan’s above the floor. His hands were warm. Then they were really warm and the pain tingled away. She wriggled her eyebrow gingerly. No pain. It was as if it had never happened.
Except that he was reminding her why exactly she received that fist in the first place. She nodded. In the future she would be far more conscious of how much like a kidnapper she looked when she was trying to… not kidnap… collect children. Which didn’t really sound that much better.
“Desperate times and desperate measures and all that. But yes, it was pretty dodgy looking.”
Particularly on the replay, where there wasn’t as much context coming from her own brain. She was lucky really, that he hadn’t just pummelled her into the dirt. She was still glad though, that she had found them and hopefully alleviated some of Maya’s worry prior to her meeting.
“So you can tell who’s a mutant just by looking at them?”
He’d probably want to keep that one under wraps, she suspected the police might like a mutant to use in the same way they used the META bots. Creepily sussing out who was a mutant from a distance.
“And will you have mine again now that you touched me?”
Or maybe because he was using the mutation he borrowed he couldn’t lose it. Or maybe he could copy multiples. Or maybe as soon as he stopped using it he would take on her power. Or maybe none of it. She popped another cookie into her mouth. With the caffeine fuelling her brain there was no telling where it might run off to.
