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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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.
Posted by transmission on Aug 30, 2011 8:07:25 GMT -6
Guest
When the subway finally came to a screeching halt into 57th Street station, Claire was nearly crawling up the walls with anxiety. Even with her iPod turned up into maximum volume, she could still hear the faint buzz of static around her, but her cellphone bleeped off a warning of poor reception. It unnerved her beyond words and when the doors fell open and the throng of commuters began to slip out of the train, she instinctively sucked in a breath, allowing herself to be lead by the collective movement toward the stairwell. Claustrophobia be damned, she only allowed herself to breathe again as her feet found the first step. There, on autopilot, she marched up the cement steps, and on her earphones Robert Plant drawled the first lines of Heartbreaker.
It was early, and though the sun was already high in the sky, the buildings cast a cool shadow over the street. As the Brit emerged from the stairwell, the morning breeze hit her and instantly she was relieved; crowds weren't her cup of tea. Adjusting a pair of massive sunglasses over her face, Claire began to trek up the Sixth. Alex, from the Department of Computer Science and her favourite nerd, had told her about a bookstore at the 57th, and, trusting Alex's good judgement, she decided to visit the place, hoping to cross the last item of her to-do list: a gift for their colleague Lana's upcoming birthday.
A book was always a nice gift; it held an implied meaning, the appreciation of the gifted person's mind — or so she had been told. And truth be told, Claire wasn't feeling particularly original. Just like the crowds, buying gifts wasn't one of her strongest points. At least, not before her morning intake of caffeine.
Turning the corner from Sixth into 57th, she was quick to spot the bookstore's revolving door, gleaming under the bright sun. The need for coffee momentarily forgotten, Claire perked up and crossed the street toward it.
Full Circle, as it was called, was small but pleasantly cosy. It was neatly sectioned by subjects and packed like a library, and despite the early hour, it was also crowded. Several people hung about, some leafing through the books, other reading them, leaning against the loaded bookcases. At the front desk stood an Asian young man, dutifully ringing up the sales.
A sinking feeling began to make itself known as Claire realised she had no idea what to buy. She navigated aimlessly through the fiction sections, from science fiction and fantasy to mystery and crime, half-hoping for an amazing book to pop out before her eyes, ready to be purchased and gift-wrapped; instead, she found herself at the romantic literature area. Harlequin novels popped and Claire sneered at the lurid, suggestive covers. Their awesomeness level was certainly below zero — about as bad as the saccharine pieces of vampire literature that cluttered the displays. On cue, Robert Plant moaned in her ears and Claire yanked the earphones off.
It was when the clink of cups and plates found its way to her and the redhead spun on her heels to find its source. Near the back of the bookstore, the unmistakeable sound of an espresso machine could be heard and Claire's heart leapt at the sight of the coffee bar. She skipped her way to it, hastily bypassing other customers fueled by the intoxicating scent of fresh coffee. It was her own sure-fire way to get things done; gift-shopping could wait until after her fix.
Posted by Aurum Mellitus on Sept 5, 2011 14:12:56 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
924
0
Feb 13, 2014 21:49:19 GMT -6
Aurum grinned at the customer in front of him. "We have a new blend in today. Would you like to try--" A redheaded woman, quite pretty actually, skipped her way up to the front of the line, bringing Aurum to a mid-sentence halt. She'd cut through all five people to interrupt an order. To interrupt an order... Aurum finished, ignoring her. "It."
The woman who'd been there already eyed the redhead, smiled weakly at Aurum, and said "Sure."
Posted by transmission on Sept 6, 2011 8:47:03 GMT -6
Guest
Coffee. Coffeecoffeecoffee. The scent of it, the sound of the beans being ground into dust, the whoosh! of the boiling stream of water. These were the things that occupied Claire's mind the moment she reached the coffee bar, to such an extent she barely noticed how many people she had just passed by. All she wanted — needed — was an espresso. Maybe a double.
Yet, the nagging feeling she was being observed quickly caught up with her and she looked for its source. At her right, stood a woman — a tall brunette, a few years her senior, sporting a look that meant business and too much mascara — who eyed her disapprovingly. At first, Claire didn't realise why; pushing her sunglasses to the crown of her head, she raised an eyebrow at the woman, her chin stuck up defiantly. What?, it clearly asked. Still, the look didn't subside.
Intrigued, the redhead took a gander over her shoulder to the line behind the business woman. Apart from the bloke at the end of it, the line she apparently had just cut was composed of women, all of them shooting her looks of different levels of dirtiness. This struck her as odd; even odder was the fact none of them voiced their blatant irritation out loud.
Claire turned round in time to hear business woman speaking to the barista and become further confused. A delicate smile touched the woman's face as she did so, and her voice seemed out of place, lacking the confidence her look projected.
The answer to her mystification became evident when Claire's gaze wandered to the working barista. Even with his back turned to her, the Brit could now see that the reason behind all that hostility was this chap. She tilted her head to the side, taking a good look at him. Very nice, indeed. Clearly, this wasn't as much about line-cutting as it were about the amount of time they'd have to wait to be served by him.
Claire couldn't help a smirk. "This ought to be interesting…". And with that thought in mind, she took a step to the left and away from the angry fan club.
Posted by Aurum Mellitus on Sept 6, 2011 19:38:37 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
924
0
Feb 13, 2014 21:49:19 GMT -6
The women were waiting for him to serve them. Serve them, Aurum did. One customer after another went by. Quickly, the line thinned. Unfortunately for those women, each and every one of them did not get the attention they longed for. Aurum kept shooting awkward glances towards the line cutter who, thankfully, had backed out of the way. He had decided to serve them all as quickly as he could so the ever-so-patient redhead could take her turn. Because, really, who cut in line then waited patiently?
If his little sister had been there, Aurum was certain she would have said something about the long line of women. She might have even tried setting him up on dates. As it was, he didn't have any real reason to ask any of the fine women out. Not since the last customer he'd gone on a date with. She'd been nice, but... maybe just a bit obsessed. Also, too eager to get him out of his shirt on date one. Not his cup of coffee, that.
Finally, the last of the customers made their exit. Aurum turned to the redhead cutter. "Next." He said.
Posted by transmission on Sept 8, 2011 9:02:12 GMT -6
Guest
One by one, the women on the line reached the much coveted highlight by the counter, only to be dispatched with haste, along with their orders of very little coffee to god-awful amounts of skimmed milk. Trust Americans to drink their coffee as if it were nitroglycerine." The English girl shook her head, rather amused by it. The last of the women, perhaps under the impression the redhead was poking fun at her, cast her a withering glare, right after ordering the novelty blend the barista had announced beforehand. Claire scoffed discreetly. Blends, for crying out loud!
The woman turned to leave, order in hand just like the others before her, but not before making sure Claire fully understood her contempt. Impertinent as always, she returned the woman's cold stare with a scowl of her own.
Thank heavens the bloke ordered his coffee simple and black. He was quick to leave and soon enough, it was her turn. >>"Next," called the barista. Claire stepped in, now sporting a broad smile.
"I'd like a double espresso, please," she trilled, at last face to face with the object of such fascination. He was quite handsome, Claire had to give him that — the four sneering witches hadn't been wrong. "And do you happen to have any chocolate muffins?" True, she could just turn to the side and see it for herself, but really, looking away wasn't an option at the moment.
Posted by Aurum Mellitus on Sept 11, 2011 12:48:02 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
924
0
Feb 13, 2014 21:49:19 GMT -6
>>"Trust Americans to drink their coffee as if it were nitroglycerine."
Aurum had to object to this statement. His coffee was good. Better than the rest. To be called anything but the finest... was an insult to him as a human being. He did not say anything about it, though. Yet. Because she was a customer, and he was a professional. A professional.
He kept reminding himself that he was a professional.
This lady was getting on everyone's nerves. Customers. Him. He'd professionally deal with her order than help her to the door.
Finally, it was Her turn.
He smiled politely, professionally, as she ordered. "Of course," He said. As he said it, he got to work getting her order ready. It didn't take long. After it was bagged and cupped, he turned and announced how much it would be.
