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.
The sound of running footsteps echoed over the ruined walls of abandoned buildings as Miles tried to keep some distance from his pursuers. Their taunts and insults were getting closer but the young mutant had figured their game plan out. They wouldn't get that close. They would stay at a distance themselves.
He had Astor running in front of him while Tinaker had been left behind, hiding under a rusting pick-up truck and waiting for their enemies to pass. Linking his vision to that of his smaller dog, he had managed to see who was after him, what weapons were they carrying and how many of them were giving chase.
Miles found some cover inside what used to be a small bookshop. The doors and windows were long gone and the books spilled all over the floor made for excellent tinder to be roasted in but the walls were thick and the place still had a semblance of a roof. He figured the roof would be vital to his survival as he took his rifle in his hands and hunkered in.
The two men screaming insults, questioning his bravery and his sexuality were loud on purpose. One was a short asian carrying a machete, the other was a tall, bald and tattooed caucasian whose weapon, if he had any, Tinaker never saw. They had back-up not too far away from them in the form of two gunmen, one of them wearing olive green and a kevlar vest, the other a multi-pocketed jacket and a headcap. These two were silent but they'd try and shoot his dog down if he sent Astor to party with any of them. Miles survival on the wasteland was completely dependent on his dogs staying functional for as long as possible, so he never risked them unless he was certain of their success.
Their whole strategy was revealed when Tinaker glimpsed a fifth man. This one was on high ground, on the sixth floor (which was now the roof) of a broken down building and if he was there, it meant he had the firepower to kill from that distance. He was located northwest from Miles and his pursuers were east, insulting him and egging him on to run some more. If he made that dreadful mistake, he'd be in direct line of sight of what he presumed was a sniper. The asian and the tattooed man where not pursuers at all, they were flushers. Two flushers, two gunmen and a hidden killer were after his rifle, his shiv and his backpack, which stashed a bunch of letters from townies writing to family members at the Haven, four pounds of potatoes, some leek, a screwdriver, a roll of duct tape, two pencils and a solar powered wrist watch with included compass. In other words, a freaking fortune.
Miles considered his options. The nearest entrance to Haven was due west but the closest chunk of concrete that could provide any cover was a good 150 yards away from where he was. If he dared to make the sprint, he would only cost his pursuers a single bullet to the head so the young mutant thought it through and decided to take a gamble.
"Astor" he told his dog while hiding behind an overturned desk, aiming his rifle at the library's entrance.
"Run"
The dog bolted outside, running west towards cover. While Astor was slower than Tinaker, he was still faster than Miles who was counting on the sniper not being an idiot. Any smart man would let the dog go, making the dog's owner believe that the coast was clear and he should follow behind. Miles figured the sniper had no idea he already knew of his presence and would be surprised when he didn't come out.
No shots were fired. The dog made the distance and even ran past the concrete cover. There were other buildings and obstructions beyond that point, so Astor had a clear beeline from then on to Haven and Miles relayed a mental command.
"Find the entrance to Haven. Find anyone who's armed there and let them know I'm in trouble".
Astor disappeared, trying to fulfill his master's orders. Miles was counting on his huge black dog with red glowing eyes to be unforgettable enough for the havenites to remember him. If they ignored the beast or shot it down, he was pretty much toast.
Joe’s bike rumbled along the partially destroyed road back towards Haven, it had been a simple delivery from Jorge’s little town to an outlying settlement, a job he really wasn’t needed for but the half a bottle of whiskey that rattled inside the saddlebag strapped to his bike was more than enough of to entice the Marine into taking the job. The hot wind whipped his brown duster out behind him revealing the tan Kevlar vest underneath as he yanked down hard on the accelerator with his fingerless gloves that had a strip of metal sown into the knuckles. The devil dogs legs were covered by a pair of black cargo pants with extra cushioning inserted into the knee’s with a pair of brown combat boots covering his feet and kicked down on the shifter causing the bike to jump into the next gear as the leather holster slapped into his leg slightly as the weight of the sawed off shotgun inside of it occasionally caught the wind.
Almost home, Joe thought to himself as he leaned back in his seat adjusting himself giving his back a small stretch easing the tension of the long ride. Letting his hand hang from his ride he rolled his shoulder and twisted his head glancing out to his left Enders spotted something running towards Haven, instantly his eyes narrowed at the dark colored beast as he tried to focus in on it and upon recognition his eyes narrowed more. That was one of Miles’ dogs if that was running alone at that speed towards Haven something was wrong.
Leaning hard Joe’s bike turned the rear tire skipping slightly at the hard turn, and as soon as he turned into the direction the undead beast had come from he let his own beast roar as he jammed back on the accelerator the front tire lifting off the ground slightly at the sudden increase in speed the sound of the bike able to be heard for miles around. Joe liked Miles’ as soon as they had both shown up at the Sanctuary at around the same time something about the kid Enders just kinda liked and since then he just sorta treated the kid as a younger brother Enders never had. Sure that meant The Marine gave the him some shit every once and while, teasing him and such but it also meant that if anyone messed with him they would pay the consequences of such actions. It was well known in Haven of the affection Enders had for the boy and as a result the kid was very well liked there as well thanks to the respect Joe had earned there as well as the things Miles’ had done for the community in the past himself.
It wasn’t long before Joe spotted two men standing staring at him one with what Enders thought to be a large knife and as he sped past them he tried to turn and see if he could spot Miles anywhere to no avail. Turning hard again he maneuvered between some piles of rubble and made his way straight for the two men he had passed now noticing an additional two he hadn’t noticed behind their cover before he now saw as two guns leveled at him and the sound of gunfire opened up. They weren't combat experienced they had never had to kill a man who was charging you with he sole desire to extinguish your life no matter what the cost, Enders had. Pulling the shotgun out of its holster he quickly leveled it on one of the gunmen and fired the twelve gauge slug tore through one of the men causing his body to buck backwards and crumble against the stone wall. The Marine didn’t have much time left to maneuver around the wall for a second pass instead crystals began to sprout up his legs and with a sharp turn of the he sent it into a skid his legs grinding against the concrete towards the still standing gunman and with a crash bike met legs met stone as the man became pinned between motorcycle and wall. Scrambling up quickly Enders let the crystal dissolve back into his skin and gripped onto the screaming mans face with his gloved hand and as the man looked into the masked face of Enders he knew what came next and in an instant the man crumbled to the ground with just the base of several crystals able to be seen where his fingers had been.
Enders turned and gripped onto the wrist of the man who had tried to bring a machete down into his neck, switching his grip on the man he wrapped his hand around his locking the machete in his grip and with a short jab the man howled in pain as his arm now had an extra joint. Wrapping a hand around the back of the mans head Enders turned the bald and pushed it through the mans neck as he bore into the him with his gaze. Throwing the bladed man to the side Enders locked onto the last attacker his breathing clearly audible through the respirator he wore. The bandit tried to back peddle away from the man who had just dispatched three of his better armed friends but Enders stepped forward the rage clearly displayed in his eyes as he stepped towards the man.
“Where is he?” Enders voice was raspy and muffled from the mask but people had gotten over not understanding him a long time ago so when the man responded with a, “Wa-wha-what?” Enders was on top of him in a flash his hand wrapped around the mans throat as he lifted him up his back pressed against the stone wall.
“Where is he!?” Enders roared as his grip clamped down on the mans throat. The Marine vibrated with anger as he lifted the man up and now held him completely suspended in air the mans fingers tried to pry his grip away before slowing and quickly dropping to his sides. Releasing the bandit he crumpled to the ground against the wall his neck already bruising from a crushed esophagus. Turning Enders began to look for Miles, his chest burnt and his vision began to narrow as he tried to take in as much air as he could through the respirator his breathing was audible for a few feet around. Reaching out he gripped onto the stone wall with his hand as he balanced himself as his vision blurred slightly as his body tried to get as much oxygen into his system as possible to little avail. “Miles!” Enders called out as he fought back passing out. “Miles where the hell are you!” The Marine was legitimately concerned for the kid he considered a brother if anything happened to him there would be hell to pay.
Miles didn't want to link his vision to that of his running dog. That trick worked best when he closed his eyes, specially if the dogs were far away and he didn't risk closing them now, not even for a second, for fear of opening them up to a gun barrel on his forehead.
The sound of a roaring motorcycle in the distance gave him hope that his gamble had paid off. He only knew of one guy in the area who rode one and if he was coming this way, his chances of survival were greatly improving. He thought Astor might come back with a guard or two from Haven, but apparently the dog had managed to nab the attention of the local mutant Rambo. Joe Enders was a trained military man, he wasn't afraid of facing overwhelming odds, he was well connected, well supplied and his mutation could make him pretty diffcult to hurt. They had met back in better days, down in Sanctuary, and he was the protective sort, always looking after him or giving him flak whenever he screwed up. One of the reasons Miles took up a rifle after the apocalypse was because he thought that's the sort of thing Joe would have done and he had never regretted the decision.
The motorcycle blurred past the ruined bookshop and while he couldn't see what was going on outside, he got a pretty clear idea from the sounds alone. There was a loud boom from Joe's shotgun and, AW MAN! Not the bike! He crashed it!
Miles got up from behind cover with his rifle still in hand and as he was going to exit the bookshop to give Joe some measure of support (probably just moral support, since the grunts, clangs and screams clearly evidenced Joe had things under control), he remembered something that the marine had no way of knowing.
The sniper!
Miles leaned his head past the west wall, looking up and trying to find the shooter. He noticed the silhouette of a man from the waist up, his rifle perched over a broken pillar, his eye obviously looking down the scope as he was trying to zero in on a raging killing machine. Joe moved too fast for him to take a clean shot but now that the sounds of battle were almost over, the sniper had a better chance at steading his rifle. The young mutant heard Joe ask his assailant the same question twice and then heard him calling out his name, no longer moving at blazing speeds. The sniper didn't move. He had Joe on his sights.
A shot was fired.
The sniper brought his hand to his abdomen and let his rifle drop off the building. He soon keeled over and followed his weapon's fate.
Miles had had the sniper on his sights as well. With him distracted trying to zero in on Enders, the young mutant had all the time in the world to zero in on him. He had aimed at the sniper's head and had managed to hit him in the belly, but if Joe asked, of course he would tell him it had been a headshot.
He was not proud of taking a life but he'd do it time and time again if it came to protecting his friends, not just due to the obvious reasons, but because losing friends was a guaranteed way for him to go emotional, turn into his dark mode and bring his friend back as a zombie puppet for life. It was a fate he didn't wish on anyone and he'd rather kill a stranger than fail a friend in such a spectacular fashion.
"I'm here!" he yelled, raising his hand and making his position known. "I'm... are you okay!?"
Joe did not seem in the best of shape and it was no wonder. He had exerted himself greatly and for a man with a respirator suffering from lung cancer, that must have taken it's toll. Miles approached him, offering his arm and shoulder for support, just in case he passed out.
Enders had completely lost all sense of tact as he screamed for Miles, no idea the whole time a man was leveling a rifle on him preparing to take the Marine out once and for all. As he screamed out again for Miles a shot rang out and instinctively crystals sprouted from the militant mutants skin covering his vital areas. He felt his head swimming from lack of oxygen to his brain but he pushed the thought aside as he forced his eyes to focus on a body falling from the top of a nearby building. It looked to tall to be Miles but Enders needed to confirm to make sure it wasn’t his surrogate brother. Before the grizzled Marine could make his way towards the now crumpled body he heard a voice call out bringing instant relief to the Crystal manipulator.
"I'm here! I'm... are you okay!?" Joe’s eyebrow raised at the young reanimator as he labored through breaths his whole body moving as he took deep breathes through the respirator. Releasing the wall he gripped for support he looked down at Miles his eyes filled with concern and a hint of anger. “First off kid the day you gotta worry about me is the day I retire.” Joe let loose a haggard laugh as he forced his way though shallow breaths. “Secondly, what have you gotten yourself into now?” The Marine asked as he began to slowly level his breathing and made his way past Miles towards the downed sniper.
Gripping the fresh corpse by the hair he lifted the body up examining him for any sort of identifying marks of allegiance or sect before tossing him to the side and lifting up the would be assassins dropped rifle he examined it closely checking all the usual spots including the chamber and magazine before slinging it over his shoulder and turning back towards Miles. “Not a bad shot kid, center mass. Nothing fancy, gets the job done. Good work. Whats the status on backup, has your pet arrived at Haven yet?” Enders kept working as he talked, scanning the area for any approaching threats, securing the their current location, and finally checking on his motorcycle.
Lifting it up he examined the damage done from sliding into the wall, the front forks were bent as well as damage to the entire left side fortunately enough it didn’t seem like anything Ruby and himself wouldn’t be able to handle. As Enders forced the bike back towards the center of the small area the two had secure he flicked the kickstand down letting the bike come to rest and took a seat on the crumbled remains of one nearby walls groaning with exhaustion as he sat. The weariness was evident on the face of the aging Marine and reaching behind his head he slowly released the latches that kept his respirator in place. Lifting the mask off he slowly stretched his neck from side to side before looking towards his young friend.
“It seems we have some time before transport arrives, hows things been going? Hows things over at Cervantes’ little town?” Enders had a respect for the aging former cop but their difference in ideals caused a slight tension between the two, both sides always believing the other was simply dividing their resources instead of working towards a mutual goal and neither willing to budge. Miles was the liaison between the two now and had stock in both places success.
