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.
Shane had found himself in a bit of a rut. He’d recently moved into the Sanctuary, but despite the kindness from most of the mutants he’d met there - and there were few that he socialized with – he couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t where he belonged.
Although he’d spent the first few years of his life with a normal family, he’d spent the majority of that life alone in the woods, and now the woods were what really felt like home to him. Most people craved a roof over their head, but for him, that roof just felt like a cage.
He wasn’t ready to leave for his trees again just yet though. It had only been a few months since he’d first arrived in New York and he wanted to make it work if he could find a way. It was only recently that a conversation with a young boy helped give him some sort of plan. Or rather, a plan that would lead him to an actual plan. The boy had told him about a mutant that could predict the future, and an authentic prediction that could help him figure out what direction he needed to be heading in seemed like just the thing he was looking for.
He didn’t, however, have much information about where to find this psychic, so he was amazed at how quickly he was able to track the place down. There was fairly minimal advertising for the little shop, but he’d managed to rummage together little bits of gossip and hearsay to at least set him up in the right direction. Shane was anything but social at the Sanctuary, but he was a good listener, and quite skilled at leaving people unaware that he was doing it. He’d stumbled upon a conversation on the very subject in the hallways and soaked up all the details (the few there were) from what they’d spoken about.
The info had gotten him this far though: the general area where the shop was supposed to be located. And sure enough, a little rooftop scouting brought him a visual of the little shore, just as Chase had implied it would look like. It was a rather unassuming looking building, not drawing any attention to itself. "Future Sight" the sign read. It would be easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it, though it did look a little beat up at the moment, like renovations had recently been done. Shane started to get worried that the shop might not be opened.
He climbed down from his rooftop perch carefully, as always with the goal of keeping off everyone else’s radar. Although he’d improved, he still felt uncomfortable walking around with his mutation visible for everyone to see. The street outside the shop wasn’t too busy though, and with his oversized jacket he was fine being out in the exposed intersection. Tentatively he approached the shop, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open.
Shane looked around the shop, unsure of the procedure. It was rare that he ever ventured into a store of any kind, let alone one of the supernatural variety. The purple room he stepped into wasn’t much like any other shop he’d visited, looking instead like a residential apartment, or at least an apartment designed for group meetings, anything but a more traditional retail store. He wasn’t really sure why he was expecting different, but surprise was written all over his face as he looked around.
There was no one in the room, but there were signs that people had been around recently scattered across the tables and floor, the most obvious being a still-hot cup of tea steaming on a table near what appeared to be a cash register. Cash register, excellent. At least now he knew he was in the right place. He looked around to see if he could find a sign somewhere with the hours listed. He let out a faint “Hello?” in the midst of the search.
A young girl, no older then 15, popped out from behind a purple curtain, shooting a smile in Shane’s direction while heading straight for the tea. “Well hello there,” the girl said with mild enthusiasm as she brought the cup to her lips. She looked him up and down as she quietly sipped the warm drink. “What can I help you with today?” Shane resisted the urge to say something along the lines of “Shouldn’t you already know? You are a psychic.” Things went smoother when he didn’t try to make jokes.
“I’m here to find out my future.” He said with minimal confidence. “I am in the right place, right?” The young girl nodded, moving behind the desk, positioning herself by the register. There was one more sip of the tea before she set it back down again, replacing it in her hand with a pen.
“This is the place.” She answered cheerfully. “We do need payment upfront though.”
Damn, he thought to himself. He’d never really had much money; again, shopping wasn’t really something he did often. He reached down into his pockets and pulled out the mess of crumpled bills and change that were stashed away. The girl was tapping her pen on the desk, counting the money in her head and it piled up on the counter.
“Hopefully this is enough,” Shane said, confident there was nothing else buried any deeper. It wasn’t a very impressive pile, but he was surprised by how much he had accumulated. The girl mouth out numbers as she added it up in her head. Then she smiled, popping the register open.
“I think that should be enough.” She put the pen back down and started putting the money into the various slots of the machine, the slammed it shut, grabbing her tea again. “I’ll be right back with the oracle.”
Then she disappeared behind the curtain again. Shane grabbed the pen and started tapping it on the desk himself.
After a few moments of pen tapping alone in otherwise silence, the girl emerged again, shoving a yawning boy out through the curtain ahead of her. This kid looked even younger then the girl who led him out in the first place. He wore sunglasses, but they did little to hide the youth behind them. This whole place was really starting to seem a little bit like a scam the longer he was there.
“Sorry for the wait, this is the Oracle.” The girl said, gesturing towards the boy. He moved towards a table in the center of the room with a crystal ball on it, plopping down in one of the seats. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and his body language backed that theory up. “Please, have a seat.” The girl said, pointing towards the table and proceeding to pull that chair out.
Shane dropped the pen and shuffled over to the table, dropping into the seat with a thud. He wasn’t horribly impressed, and it was showing. The boy, however, seemed to match Shane’s irritation with an equal amount of indifference. He stifled a yawn, finally making eye contact (Shane assumed) through his sunglasses. The girl dimmed the lights before disappearing behind the curtain again.
“What answer do you seek?” he asked, his voice carrying the monotonous tone of a line spoken far too many times. Shane was caught a bit off guard by the question though. He hadn’t expected to need a specific answer, just a general read. The Oracle’s head started to drift to the side and a look of impatience was already starting to develop on his face.
“I want to know what direction I need to be heading in life.” Shane asked. He realized this wasn’t much of an answer, but then again, he didn’t have much else to say. “I feel like I’m lost in the woods. I just want to find the path again.”
“Alright then,” the boy responded, his full attention on Shane now. “Let’s take a look.” He took his sunglasses off and the two of them locked eyes.
The next thing Shane knew, the two of them were flying through a tunnel of his own memories. It was exactly how he’d always conceptualized dying, having your life flashing before your eyes. He could see himself as a child playing with the other children, before his mutation had manifested itself. He could see how happy he was.
He could see his parents vividly. Two people he hadn’t see in years who had, and still did mean the world to him. He could see them tucking him in to bed and reading him stories until he fell asleep. It felt good.
He could see himself surrounded by people dressed in all black on a murky day. It wasn’t raining, but the clouds were threatening to start pouring down on them. Everyone seemed to have umbrellas, Shane did too, only his was open, concealing his face. His mutation had started to kick in. Most people were crying. The tombstone in front of him read: JAMES MARKSMITH. This was his father’s funeral.
He could see himself in the wilderness, defending the small shelter he’d built from armed men who’d come to attack him.
Then he started seeing images he’d never seen before. They seemed less focused and shorter glimpses.
He could see his mother again, only much older, himself sitting with her.
A shadowy man creeping through a house with a handgun.
Himself kneeling at his father’s tombstone, a new one beside it now reading: KATHLEEN MARKSMITH.
There was a clink of glass as he cheersed with Blood over a pint.
A man with a unicorn’s horn spoke to him in a soothing voice, but he couldn’t catch the words.
His body had grown to a larger size then he’d ever seen before, and he wasn’t alone in the room.
There was a girl in front of him, hands on hips giving him a very stern look of disapproval.
He could see a church. He didn’t know the location, but it’s image lingered longer then any other, and it stayed with him.
Then the images faded away, leaving Shane breathing heavily, trying to remember where he was. The Oracle replaced his glasses, yawning again, but still remaining focused on the client. One image had stuck out for Shane, and that was his mother. He hadn’t seen her since his early teen years, so seeing her so vividly was an intense image.
He may have been skeptical before, but after that experience he had little doubt of the authenticity of that “reading.” He was quite literally left speechless. He sat in silence, his eyes rapidly moving around the room, not actually looking at anything, but trying to help him remember. It was like waking up from a wonderful dream and trying to remember all of the details before they vanish forever. He didn’t know if they’d vanish on him or not, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
“Th… Thank you.” He finally managed to let a few words leave his lips. He stood up from the table, only half paying attention to where he was, still partially living in his dream world in his head. As he turned to head for the door, he was whispering to himself about the vision, “church, mom, Blood, gun…”
He knew what he needed to do now. He needed to find his mother.
