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.
As the shadows danced in the alleyway bathed in orange light, she glanced over her shoulder. He was still following, arms brushing along the alley's walls, leaving slug-like trails of melted brick. Going slow, watching. Waiting. Impatient, like a fire.
Johnathon. Her ex.
It wasn't every day she saw an old flame.
She wasn't scared. She didn't want to be. Didn't want to confront him, didn't want to fight. She didn't want to see his face. The last time they'd parted, it had been on bad terms. Before that, it had been painful. He was as much a memory as he was a real person. She didn't even know how he'd found her.
Lenna rounded another corner. It didn't matter how he'd found her. She was going to lose him. If he really wanted to talk, he could find her again. If he tried to, she'd repeat the process. With red spiked hair, board shots, and volcanic vents in his elbows and the backs of his legs, he stood out enough to avoid.
To repeat the refrain, she wasn't scared. He had fire in his eyes, and his veins. Could set things ablaze. She knew. Wasn't afraid of it, just cautious. She knew. Her adapted aura couldn't stop a fire once it had begun. She didn't want him following her back to her home, if he had murder on his mind. She didn't have the heart to shoot him. Running was the best course of action. She knew. It never stopped pissing her off. But what else could she do?
It took a while, but she lost him. Through buildings, up elevators, down fire escapes, down stairs. She cut a path through the city, using New York as her distraction. By the time she'd finished, it was dark.
Lenna slumped down on a bench in Central Park, tired. Her hand dropped to a side pocket and found her phone. Speed dial. She brought the phone up the her face, and spoke. "Michael. It's Lenna. Where do you live?" Her voice wavered.
She'd never been to his place, never had reason to, but hey. It was the only other course of action she could take. And no, this really was no April fool.
The Ranger sat at a desk with a reloader mounted atop it. Sure, he could buy ammo, but it was cheaper to reload your own, plus it carried the added benefit of allowing him to load them the way he liked, or more importantly the way his pistol liked.
The day had been one of maintenance. Assorted bits of work on the Fordasaurus, pistol cleaning, rifle cleaning, replacing the stock on a shotgun, and ammo reloading. This having necessarily lead to bits of metal, wood, oil, powder, and plastic finding their way into every corner of his apartment.
He pulled down the lever and forced a bullet down into a casing and his phone went off. Across the room he could hear Stevie Ray Vaughan playing. He rose from the chair and made his way to the phone. Lenna was calling him, he smiled and picked it up hitting the answer button.
She announced it was her, which was unnecessary since the Ranger had her number plugged into his phone, and then asked where he lived. Her tone made it clear something was amiss and this was not a social call.
The Ranger told her where he lived, both the actual address in terms of street names, building number, and apartment number as well as a brief description as to where it was relative to other places. That done he asked, "What's wrong?"
"I'll tell you when I get there," Lenna forced the words out. She hung up. The woman hurried out of the park as fast as her legs could carry her. She caught a cab, and gave him the address. It didn't take long to reach the destination.
The building the Ranger lived in was stone, multi-storied, and plain-looking. She didn't spend much time looking at it. Through the entrance and up to the appropriate story, she went. Knuckles rapped on Michael's door.
She'd tell him when she got there. "Alright. See ya soon." With that they hung up and he assumed her to be on her way. The Ranger set down the phone and looked around his apartment. If Lenna was coming over he should clean up some, it may be far from a social call but there was no need for him to have a hand grinder on the table and engine oil covered clothes laying about.
He used the bit of time he had to stick the grinder in a drawer, clothes away in a hamper, and loaded up his side arms. If Lenna was calling him because something was wrong, having as much lead as possible ready to be fired would be needed.
Not long later there was a knock at the door. The Ranger made his way there and opened it. It was Lenna. He took a step back to make room for her to enter, "C'mon in." He gestured for her to enter, whatever the problem was if she didn't want to talk about it over the phone than he'd wait until she was inside to inquire.
She didn't need to be told twice. Lenna entered, slipping past him. As she moved, her eyes swung around the room, taking things in. They settled on Michael. She frowned.
Lenna made her way in and announced she was followed earlier, but she thinks she had lost the pursuer. The Ranger looked out into the hall and then closed the door.
"Do ya know who it was that was followin' you?"
He led her to the living room area where there was a couch where she could take a seat.
Lenna took a seat on the couch and the Ranger sat down next to her. She knew who was following her, which was good it makes it all the easier to crack their skull. The Ranger was not sure what to expect, but he sure wasn't expecting her to say it was her ex!
Lenna had never mentioned an ex, though why should she the Ranger never had and besides they were in the past. Granted, it seemed Lenna's ex was some kind of crazy as he was able to leave Lenna this off balance.
"Yer ex?" It wasn't a question of surprise from her having had an ex, rather from surprise that her ex was following her.
They didn't leave each other on the best terms, and she gave Slate his boss' brain? The question was was that literal or just that she served him up for some Jedi mind tricks? The Ranger guessed the latter. The Ranger nodded, any of a myriad of things could be motivating this guy. Revenge for what she did to his boss, scorn from them breaking up, etc.
If this guy was able to find Lenna, a needle in the worlds largest haystack, once then how long before he found her again? "What's the plan?" Do they kill this guy, force him to leave Lenna alone, does Lenna stay here, do they dig in outside of the city, do they fortify her place, or track him down and rain down a hail of lead?
"Ugh." Lenna grumbled, placing her head in her hands. She was visibly off her game today. Fingers locked and she rested her head in the digit cat's cradle for a bit. "I just don't know. I don't want to kill him. If I did, that would have been easy. I wouldn't have bothered you about it... I guess we keep our heads low for a while... and if he shows up, you explain to him nicely to keep the hell away..." Maybe with bullets. Maybe not.
Lenna raised her head again. Absentmindedly, she glanced around. "So, this is your place...?" Any subject was better than Johnathon. "It's... cluttered." She'd just noticed. How did he ever find anything at all?
The Ranger could see Lenna was having a hard time, her voice and actions made it clear. He put his arm around her to comfort her. She stated that she didn't want to kill him, they could just lay low and if he were to come around the Ranger could tell him to keep the hell away.
Lenna then commented on his place, that it was cluttered. The Ranger looked around, he had done a little to clean it up but it had been little good. "It's a... functional mess. An' I normally don' have visitors" And only kitchen and living room areas were a mess, his bedroom was at least straight.
"My place is better... I mean... sorry." She realized what she'd done and blushed. "I'm just stressed. Your place is fine. I'll have to get used to it, I guess... if I'll be staying here for a while..."
Oh, wow. She'd never actually lived with a man before, had she? Staying together small increments of time did not count. This would be interesting...
What did he even have to do outside of guns and weapon maintenance?
She leaned against his shoulder, resting her head on it with a sigh. "Please tell me you at least have books..."
Lenna commented that her place was better, and then apologized. She stated she'd have to get used to it if she'll be staying at his place for a while. Staying at his place for a while... Sure he knew they'd be laying low and it best they be at his place for that but he hadn't yet thought that that meant she'd be living here with him in the meantime. "It's fine. This place is hardly a home t' me, so it's hard t' take offense." an apartment could never be a home to him, to him a home was a house and had a yard.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and asked her to tell her he at least had books, "Yeah, I have a bookshelf in the bedroom. I hope ya like non-fiction." There of course was some fiction but the vast majority of his books were DoD official handbooks on various nations, a few texts from long dead philosophers, books detailing military history, and books detailing ballistics and various other firearm topics. The books of course were not just in the shelf, but the few boxes around it. There was hardly room anywhere for a large bookshelf.
"... And clothes." She realized. "I'll have to buy clothes, if I don't want to run home..." Ugh. That was not a fun thought. "Maybe we should kill him," Lenna deadpanned. "Just a little..."