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.
Tyson couldn't help but flinch a bit when Danica pointed her finger in his face. He fought back a sudden urge to snap at it, a wolf thing he supposed. As for what she said, he felt a least a bit reassured that she was so adement that he was not a 'thing'. It was hard for him to thing otherwise when there was nothing about himself that was familiar anymore. Tyson wasn't just dealing with a new ability, but with a complete loss of identity with himself, which was a lot more scary to him. But it was nice that she cared about it none the less.
He also considered the institute. He really didn't think he had much of a choice but to stay there. He had been wondering more along the lines of where he could go besides the institute, but that was just one of the consequences of his poor verbal skills. Still, he guessed it was a start. If nothing else maybe they had room for a janitor. Not his dream job, but it was better then loaning himself out as a guard dog. He wasn't planning on letting him Mom know anytime soon, he still hadn't come to turms with thism how could he expect her too?
He considered her offer to help. He wasn't sure she could, he wasn't something easily fixed. There was so many things that were wrong with him that he could be here all day. Well, he supposed he had to start somewhere, and honestly venting seemed to helping him feel better. "Hrrrrr toooo maany scents hrrr, toooooo maaany sooounds, grrrrr harrrrrrd to speeeaak, feeeeeellll hhhhhrrrrrrr teeeerrrrrrrritorrrrrrrial, haaaans rrrrrrr dooon't woooorrrrrrrk weeelll, keeep dooing hrrrr annimaaal thiiings..." he started, listing one thing after another. He hadn't even gotten to his attacking people. He hoped Danica didn't have any plans for the rest of the day.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
Honestly Tyson wasn't comforted much by the prospect of putting his affairs in order. it sounded too much like he was dead. He didn't really think that he could simply walk away from everything he had known and it really didn't help when he thought about his mother in this way. Did setting affairs in order mean leaving her behind. She was the only family he had as far as he was concerned, and possibly the only person in his life who could actually accept him. Yes that was the risk that this might not be the case, but he would be happier if he could preserve that one last part of his human life. He could understand not living in the past, but what she described felt more like a rejection of the past which would leave Tyson more less alone in the world. He didn't think he was ready for that.
As far as future, where to begin. It was not as if his new form was suited for a life in the normal world. He had been interested in psychology and ethics, and such a profession would require him to be able to speak, a task now difficult for him but the best of times. As for any physical professional, his hands were next to useless when I came to delicate tasks. Unless the task at hand was limited to only move something, he would not be able to perform it without potential he damaging something. What really did that leave him? His appearance, fangs, and claws were made to intimidate, or worse, to attack. He wasn't sure that was a profession that he would want to be a part of if that were the case. It just didn't seem like he had any thing that he could aim for that we would actually be happy with. "Hhhhrrr noohwherrre to goooo," he growled, "grrrr whaat is theerree foorrr rrrrr somethiiing liiike meee?"
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
Tyson had to think about the question, offhand they sounded like the same thing, but the subtle different was not lost after a quick examination. Unfortunately, Tyson still wasn't sure. "Hrrrrr Yeeess... Nooooo...? grrrrrrr dooon't knoooow," Sometimes it seemed like it was both rolled into one, he did things and wanted them, only to realize that he didn't want them and didn't want to do them. He would devour a raw steak happily only to turn around and throw it up in disgust. His mindset and actions seemed like they contended at every interval, shifting into rational thought to automatic reaction seamlessly to where he couldn't tell where he ended and his instincts took over. "Hrrrrr caaan't teeeelll, hrr keeeeep ackkting liike aaahnimal."
When Adder asked him about the institute, he wasn't sure about all the details, after all he was still pretty new here himself. He was here for help with his condition, but it looked like a lot more happened here then just that. There were students and classes like a college, but it seemed to also include more... unusual classes that revolved around more unconventional college topics. He hadn't really participated in them all that much since he couldn't stand being around a crowd with his hyperactive senses, but when a class was titled 'flight 101' it wasn't that hard to picture what was going on. "Grrrrr is schooooowl? " he said, trying to boil it down into the simplest terms he could use to avoid having to try and form complicated words. "Hrrrrr schooowl foooor peeeople wiiiith grrrrrr aaabilliiitiiiies." Honestly that was about as much as he knew.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
Tyson took the hit without flinching, though honestly he didn't feel much better about the situation. She said to learn to look at it as something new, but that was the problem in itself. Everything was too new. There were too many scents, too many sounds, too many new instincts to deal with, too many changes in his body to deal with and too many new rules that apparently came with this. He was drowning in 'new' he wanted some relief, something that could anchor him through all this, but there was nothing left to hold onto...
“But I swear if some emo wuss that sparkles in sunlight shows up, I'll kill'em.” It broke his train of thought, and despite himself, he gave a snort and some sort of barking woof. Apparently that was what his laugh sounded like now. His first laugh since this had all happened. It felt good, even if for a moment. He couldn't say he looked cool, it was hard too look in a mirror every morning to a face you didn't recognize, and even harder to accept that it was what you would be seeing for the rest of your life. Not that he exactly had too after breaking the mirror in his room.
At Danica's last comment, he gave a short growl with a bit of a frown. "Grrrrrr myyy moooms huuumaan," he growled, "Hrrrr don't waaaan't to sccaaarrre." That was a confrontation he wasn't looking forward to. His mom didn't know yet. He had been sending letters through transcription, and she thought he was just attending college. She hadn't seen him, nor even know what he had been through. He had thought he could lie low until he was cured, but with that out the window, what was he going to do? He couldn't even see himself in his face, how would she? Would she scream? Faint? Disown him? Melancholy set in again, "Hrrrrr wwoooouuulllddd raaaathheerrrrr hhhhhrrrr beeeee norrrrrmalll."
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
Having let out a good deal of frustration, even if it wasn't the way he intended, Tyson was feeling a bit less, bite-off-your-face-ish. He considered what Danica said, people did have their own problems, and she probably did receive a good deal of guff for being a mutant. He wasn't stupid, he knew the kind of stuff that mutants got targeted for. He just felt it wasn't fair that it was forced on him. Yes, he had an x-gene apparently, but it had been latent, he would have been normal if not for his father experimenting on him. He supposed he would feel a bit better if this had come as something natural, but he knew all that would have done was left him angry without a target to blame. He was still angry, but honestly, this wasn't her fault. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't even the institutes fault. It was his fathers fault, his alone. He wanted to tear him apart, so he shouldn't be taking it out on others.
He let out a long sigh, trying to release a bit more tension, sitting on the bank and thinking about it. Finally he said, "Hrrrr, tooo shooooorrrrrt, I'd mhiiiss," he said, hoping to break the mood somewhat. Maybe he did need some company, someone to vent his frustrations to. It was better then being alone, he supposed. "Hrrrrrr doooon't knooooow grrrrrr if ihhhh caan liive hrrrrr like thiiiiis," he admitted, he had been hoping for a cure, but that wasn't coming, and he couldn't fathom living a life where fangs and fur were part of his norm, "Hrrrr scrrraaarrred." So far everything had been a horrible experience for him, overstimulated senses, mauling people, feeling like he was losing himself to the animal side of him. He didn't know where this road was going to lead him, and he didn't have a choice to turn away from it.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
Tyson listened as the woman tried to reassure him. She was trying to tell him it wasn't his fault, it was self defense. Was it? He had tried to run, they had attacked him, yes. That made sense. Was he just acting in self defense? Did it count that way in this situation? He had to believe it did, he was barely holding on as it was. He was only trying to protect himself and lost it. That had to be the case, he wasn't a monster, he wasn't. If he gave in now there was no hope, he would get a cure, he had to hold out until then, he couldn't let the monster in him win. He had to hold on.
The womans words helped, he started to come out of it. She was right, they needed to call someone for medical attention for these guys. Even if they had attacked him, he didn't want them to die because of him. He wasn't a killer. He began to rise, fighting the feel of nausea and weakness that pulled at his limbs. It felt like trying to move through molasses. He was still suffering the aftermath of the shock, but at least he was moving. He had to lean against the wall, but he started walking, slowly, trying not to collapse under the weight of emotions still running amok in his head. He realized his hands and face were still covered in blood, he could only imagine the panic if people saw that when he came out of the alley. He didn't have anything to clean it off, not after he had torn his shirt away. "hhhrrrrr blooood ooon meeee," he said weakly, "wiiiillll scarrre peoople hrrr." If he could run, he could probably get by without people really noticing, but right now he was strggling just to keep walking, he couldn't muster the incentive just yet to go all out like that.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
Tyson could barely hear Darkshift as she started talking, he was still in a state of shock and horror. He felt weak in his limbs, short of breath, he was in no state to make a run for it. It was the logical thing to do, it was probably what he wanted to do, but his body wasn't responding. Instead all he could do is stare at the bleeding body, at what he had done, flashing back to a darker time when he had been forced to do similar things. But this time he had no excuse he could rationalize, he wasn't under someone's control. This had been him, he had lost control and done exactly what he had feared he would do. It shook him to his core, destroying more of his grip on his humanity, his belief that things could get better.
"hrrrrr whaaat havvve I doooone..." he repeated to himself, lost in the horror of what was before him, cycling through the event over and over, "whhhhat am I?" A monster, he thought, exactly what he wanted, his father. He turned him into a monster, and there was no escaping it. Even separated from the man, whatever he had done was still in him, a dangerous, feral creature ready to kill and maim. He huddled into himself, griping his arms so hard his claws dug into his flesh and started bleeding, but taking no notice, numb with the revelation that he was little more then an animal.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
Was she still following him? You would think most people would take the hint not to mess with an angry wolf man. Let sleeping wolves lie or some existential nonsense like that. And then she had the nerve to say she knew what he was feeling. Of course her little display of power was probably the coolest thing he had seen so far, but it only hammered down the fact that she had something that could be accepted, she at least looked human and had something that could go unnoticed, it probably didn't even interfere with her daily life. He was like this 24/7, he couldn't talk without making some major effort to form the words right, his hands may as well be boxing gloves for all they could accomplish, and she didn't have to deal with some unseen force urging him to eat raw meat and mark his territory.
'Take a hint and leave, you get to look normal, you get to act normal, you know nothing about what I'm going through!' he wanted to cry, but as before all that came out were a number of snarls and growls without any real semblance to words. Frustrated he brought his hands to his snout, trying to calm down enough to focus on getting something intelligible out, "Grrrrrrrr noooooooottt saaaammmmmeee hrrrrrrrr, mooonssterrrrrrrr grrrrrrrrrr leeeeaveee hr alloooooonee!" He held his head in frustration, everything was so difficult, so different, so wrong. He had no outlet for it that he could properly do, all he had was claws and teeth and rage, it was too much. He just let it all out into a scream... which came out as a long, angry, mournful howl. Dogs in within haring range started barking over the sound. When it was all out he clawed at his face, his sharp claws digging into his skin, leaving a few cuts that immediately began healing themselves, "Hrrr caaaannn't eeeveeeen scrrrream," he said in a self deprecating manner.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
"Now what on earth did these poor trees ever do to you?"
Tyson paused and looked in Danica's direction, a snarl on his lips, growling furiously. If he had been in a better mood he may have worried about scaring her, or even pondered about the fact that she didn't seem to react to his appearance at all. Right now though, the thought didn't even cross his mind. Teeth bared he yelled at her, 'GO AWAY!' however, in his temper he couldn't form the words, so instead all that came out was a very canine "GRRRRR HRRRRRRRR!" He wasn't in a mood to talk to anyone right now, and he stomped away from her, his claws digging into the grass leaving small gouges where the claws sank in.
He came across the shore of the pond, where a number of ducks were paddling out, and the city reflected in the water. He may have found the spot nice, but right now he didn't care. He scooped up a rock and threw it furiously at the water, driving off the ducks as he splashed in. He grabbed another and another, pulling up grass and mud as he did, hurling them one by one into the pond. He then saw a rather big stone stuck halfway in the ground and grabbed at it, his claws etching into the stone as he tore it up, then hurled it into the middle of the pond with a huge splash. He wasn't even winded, but he panted with frustration anyway, he was blowing off steam, true, but it didn't feel like it was releasing enough pressure to make a difference. He was still stuck as a monster, no matter how many trees he scratched up or ducks he terrorized. He crouched at the ponds edge and looked into the water, seeing his reflection. Snarling again he thrashed at the water, wishing he could wipe the stupid image away.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
It wasn't fair. That was the short of it, it just wasn't fair. He was supposed to be normal, he was going to get a cure. He was supposed to go home to his real life and forget this nightmare. He wasn't supposed to be... this.
The news had been exceedingly hard for him to accept. He had been stubbornly convinced that the institute would cure him. It was why he thought he was here, but apparently he had been mistaken, or maybe he had just been too blind to accept it. A mutant. That's what he was told he was. This wasn't something that could be reversed. Even though his 'x-gene' had been latent, his father had activated it, and once active, it could not be turned off. He was stuck like this. There was no going back. It wasn't fair.
It had been the only thing keeping him together, and now, it had been pulled out from under him. As a result, he was pissed. Plain and simple. He wanted to tear off the face of anyone who talked to him. Not exactly a good thing when he was fully capable of doing this in a very literal sense. His room was now very much worse for wear after his initial reaction to the news, and since then he was just in a bad mood all the time. So much so that he couldn't stand being in the mansion. Even though his last venture into the city had been awful, currently he didn't care, if someone attacked him, it was their funeral. Still, he had more sense then to go downtown in this mood, so he went to Central Park. A bit less crowded and less chance of someone messing with him.
Of course this did nothing to improve his mood at all. He was still mad at... Well everything. Despite the natural setting, he was still agitated, growling and snarling at nothing in particular. He walked into through the trees, swiping at the low hanging branched, wanting to lash out at everything. More then a few trees bore slash marks where he had clawed them in frustration. It just wasn't fair, why him, why did he have to be stuck like this? Most of all he was mad at his father, who had done this to him. Right now he was just wanted to slash him to pieces, regardless of his feelings about hurting others.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
More instincts with fur then without. So he could turn them off if he wanted. It was frustrating that he didn't have that option. It was on 24/7 wither he liked it or not. "Hrrrrr alllwayys oooohn frrrrr mheeee," he growled, trying to form his mouth around the words, "grrrrrr chhhassse, eaat, fiiiiight hhrrrrrr, nooo contrrrrrrooolll, I hhuuuuuurrrttt peeeooople, grrrrr wwwaaant it toooo sttooopp," the was more desperation in his voice then he wanted, but honestly he was desperate, this situation was driving him crazy. It was bad enough that he couldn't talk right, he couldn't write or play video games because his hands wouldn't respond the way they used to, throw in overstimulated senses, over territorial temperament, and wild urges and his life was completely upside-down and inside-out. Right now he was holding out for the institute to come up with a cure to turn him back to normal, but he wasn't sure how long he would last like this.
"Hrrrrr soooorrrry," he said, realizing that he hadn't apologized for almost ripping off Adder's face. "Diiidn't meeean toooo attttacccc," Well, not entirely true, some part of him obviously felt the urge to, just not the human part of him. If he still had a human part, it was getting hard to tell if he was even human anymore, everything felt wrong, he did things he would have never done before without even thinking. There was nothing to ground him, and nothing that made him feel any less of a monster. The face in the mirror was something he didn't recognize, he was in a strange place, surrounded by strangers and losing himself little by little.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
Tyson looked at Adders ears and teeth with some interest, after all, he hadn't met anyone with a canine related ability before. It created some form of reliability, at least in his mind. He had met a few people with physical mutations of course, but they didn't seem to have the accompanying instincts that made things so difficult for him. He wondered if Adder's ability were purely physical or if he also had to deal with overwhelming instincts.
"Are you always part-way?"
Tyson nodded, it was easier then trying to pronounce everything. His father had made him this way, and whatever he did didn't come with an off switch, leaving him trapped as whatever it was he was now. "Hrrrr aaaalways, tooo muuuhanny hhhhrrrrrr trrrriggerrrrs." he said, referring to his oversensitive instincts. Anything seemed to set him off without warning, and he found himself doing things that were more wolf then human, "Hrrrrrr yoooouuuu alssoooooo?" he asked. Adder seemed much more... in control, or at least at ease with himself. Either his instincts were separate as he changed shape, or he knew something about keeping them check. If that was the case, maybe he could get some pointers. Right now he was desperate to find some measure of control over himself, before he hurt someone... again, or lost his mind completely.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
Tyson watched as the stranded looked him over. He felt uncomfortable, which was natural considering how he looked. He was self conscious about his appearance and feeling like he was on display didn't help. Still, he was starting to calm down a little, now that the initial shock was over. He started noticing a few details about this person he'd been too distracted to notice before. Not so much how he looked but how he moved. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but the movements were, natural? Fluid? No, it resonated with something in his subconscious, not so much something human, but something more animal about it. Was this guy... Curious? Something about it communicated something non-verbal his animal side picked up on, even if his human mind couldn't understand it.
"Ahhhdderrrrr?" He repeated after the stranger gave a name. A strange one, maybe it was sort for something, or maybe it was a nickname of sorts. He noted his... Fangs? No canines, his teeth had a familiar look to them that he saw in his own reflection each morning, just in s differently shaped mouth. He started putting two and two together, and felt a bit of relief that he may not be hallucinating after all. "Hrrrrrr, yoooou, shhhappppeshhhhiferrrrr?" He asked, if nothing else then to confirm to himself that this was the case. He supposed that helped him feel a bit better, though not by much. At least he knew in future what to expect if he came across a real wolf.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
Tyson dragged the body around the corner before dropping it. The man was bleeding, unconscious, but alive. The wolf man scanned the alley for more attackers, eyes falling onto the limping woman. Hunting instinct kicked in, and Tyson was reflexively crouched, stalking forward as he sized her up. The scent she gave off was predatory as well, fresh blood on her. It made him pause, as it was not in his best interest to target another potentially dangerous animal as a food source. Injured prey, yes, but currently, he was not hungry enough to make take the risk...
Wait.... Why would he need to hunt? Why... What was he doing...
As adrenaline died down, the flight or flight instincts subsided, and Tyson began realizing what he had just done. The taste of blood, human blood was on his lips, which was stained red, just like his formally white shirt, which was now crimson. As he recalled what he had done, a pained expression of panic washed over his face. He felt sick and weak in the knees. He collapsed onto the ground, rolling to a sitting position and grasping at the side of his head as he processed his actions. " oh god, oh god, oh god," he repeated, not at all focused on forming the words which came out as unintelligible growls and whines. He was shaking with the horror of realization, and felt bile rising in the back of his throat. He leaned over onto his hands and began hurling a mixture of stomach acid and blood. He could hardly breath, and realized he was still covered in blood. He tore at his a shirt, quickly ripping off strips of material before managing to break through the collar and tearing it away from him, throwing the to away before curling up into a fetal position, all but paralyzed with fear, loathing and disgust for himself. What had he done? What was he? What was wrong with him?
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
Tyson didn't know hat to do, he was being torn apart inside by everything that was happening. He felt like it was too dangerous to be around him, what if it happened again? He couldn't take it if he attacked someone again. However, the stranger didn't even look concerned about it, just asking for clarification. It confused him even more, if some monster had tried attacking him he would have freaked out. He looked at the guy, hoping that he didn't go off again, "Grrrrr hrrrrrrr meeeeeh," he said, as far as he knew he was the the only thing dangerous about the place, "hhrrr noooot saaafe to beeee arrrroooound hhrrr."
He didn't know who this was, at first he assumed it was a mansion resident, however, his nose was detecting unfamiliarity with his scent, so he couldn't be. And his comment of course. "Hhhrrrr hhwhooo arrrrr yooouuu?" He asked, keeping his distance, just in case. He didn't want to hurt him, and he didn't trust himself enough to let his guard down least he attack him again.
I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going through your head when you don't even understand it yourself. Wolf
