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 whitenoise on Jun 28, 2010 16:51:59 GMT -6
Guest
Times Square, a populated center of commerce. A place where humans traveled about, in and out of stores, and and went about perpetuating the human civilization. It ran like a well oiled machine, and it needed a wrench thrown in it. This whole human capitalist machine was so finely tuned that any upset would send it crashing down. It could be repaired though, but weaker each time.
Roger knew what kind of wrench would leave a long impact. A human gunned down wrongfully by a police officer. That, was his reason this day for heading to Times Square. His black suit and tie would blend him in with the business crowd in the square, his goal was to be memorable to no one. Anonymity is power and protection.
Making his way across the square, with a radio in hand, cell phones, radios, and other electronic communications became fuzzy, but not to the point of any consequence. Crossing a traditionally highly crowded area he drew out a radio from his jacket with a string attached. Lowering the radio to the ground by the string no indication of him placing it there was given. If anyone saw it lowered they would most likely only recall a man in a suit who was around twenty, not much to go on later. The Radio did generate static when he turned it on but focusing on its frequency he broadcasted absolute silence.
Standing at the farthest reaches of his range White noise broke the radio silence by transmitting the sound of gunshots. They rang out, and rang out again, and they rang out again with the sound of handguns. Instantly people panicked, running this way and that. Roger used the confusion and people trampling to close in on a lone police officer speaking into his hand radio.
The officer was relaying information to dispatch, and a woman responded. Roger worked at duplicating her voice in his head, this would be essential in moments. Concealed carry licenses were rare in New York, but not uncommon. This scarcity led to distrust of those with guns, especially after the illusion of shots firing. And when three people amongst the crowd drew their side arms to defend themselves, the police officer called it in. The officer was a little green, this situation had him panicked and looking for direction.
Jamison was minding his own business and exploring the sites, trying to find inspiration in all the high points of tourism that New York City had to offer. Today’s adventure was to take in all that Times Square had to offer. He enjoyed the bustle, people walking here and there, basically ignoring each other. It was situations like this that made him feel really alive and the most himself.
A slight tickle across his eyes and chin, moving to his nose and cheeks, was his indicator of his only constant companion; his mutation. He kept his eyes on the sights, ignoring everyone else until… A shot rang out, and then another. Someone’s shooting?! His instincts warred with his training. Should he run or fight?
Either way, he took cover behind an empty taxi and assessed the situation. There were three people still not fleeing outright, rather they were standing around with their formerly concealed weapons cocked, loaded, and being aimed in random directions. Why is it people think a gun makes the invincible? He peered through the windows of the car. Which one of the armed individuals had started this scare? What did they want? Body language only told him that they were all nervous and he was too far away to tell then other way- by reading their emotions.
A few dozen feet to his left, an equally panicked officer was radioing in the situation. His face told it all: purple swirls over a green cloud. Paradox rolled his eyes. This young man was clearly in over his head and might need saving at some point. He readied himself, just in case he was needed. The officer might be green as grass, but he was serving his country and that deserved a measure of respect.
Posted by whitenoise on Jun 28, 2010 22:55:37 GMT -6
Guest
When the officer radioed in the situation Roger quickly scanned frequencies waiting for the tell-tale static to indicate he found it. Since most police radios are within a small rage of frequencies it didn't take but a few seconds. The woman at dispatch had only just begun with instructions when it became overloaded with static as the signal was bullied out by Roger's more local transmission. The officer held his gun in one hand and radio with the other, he called back to dispatch.
"10-9 that dispatch. You were broken and stupid."
There was a moment of white noise and then the woman's voice was heard over the radio. "Sierra-one three seven." Roger picked up his handle when he first contacted dispatch," You are advised to subdue the target, if needed deadly force is authorized." He placed the idea of firing on one of the innocent civilians in the officer's head. All that was left was to push this nervous, adrenalin high officer over the edge.
Roger hoped he would react without thinking, or this won't work. He moved to within fifteen feet of the officer and when the closest man with a gun pointed a gun near the officer, in his scanning of the area, and broadcast the sound of a gunshot out of the officer's radio and then pointed his palm toward the officers arm and blasted him with microwaves. Believing he was shot the officer fired on the man with his Glock, a nice grouping from a double tap, and the man went down.
"Officer hit." Roger let that go through, dispatch would have a record of him claiming to be shot. More ammunition for the District Attorney to ruin this man's life, and soil the NYPD along the way.
Roger then turned to walk away from the scene, perhaps he could find a vantage point to observe the mess he had created.
Chaos had erupted. Absolute chaos. One of the armed civilians -or potentially criminals Paradox mentally added an addendum to his classification- waved his gun wildly. Okay, so maybe all of them were swinging their firearms around randomly, but one in particular seemed to have noticed the police officer’s movement and viewed him as a threat.
One more lone shot rang out.
The officer reacted as though he was shot, but Jamison didn’t see any blood. Maybe it was a near miss? He immediately fired back at Suspect Number One, the man currently pointing a gun in his direction. The two reply shots found their target and he could see that they hit their target square in the chest. The man looked confused as he crumpled to the ground.
“Officer hit!” The policeman radioed in, “Shots fired, one suspect down. Two still with weapons.”
One man across the square dropped his gun and fell to his knees with his hands behind his head. “Don’t shoot me! I didn’t do anything!” The one closest to where Jamison was concealed started to back away, wary of the additional shots. When he reached the taxi, he tried to scoot around it. Jamison saw an advantage while the man was still watching the square and acted. He threw himself over the hood of the car and tackled the smaller man to the ground. They wrestled for a few moments, during which the gun was knocked away, but neither man saw to where.
Posted by whitenoise on Jun 30, 2010 19:48:45 GMT -6
Guest
Roger smiled, he had created a panic in New York which led to a police officer killing an innocent civilian. And his testimony as to why he fired on the man would see to the loss of his badge. Sadly though, one of the armed citizens dropped his gun and the third was tackled by some hero. He had wanted to lead to there deaths too, if it was at all possible. Oh well, sirens could be heard, it was time to leave the ground level.
Navigating his way around the outside of the square, Roger made his way over near where the third civilian had been tackled. He played the part of a curious onlooker, wearing a confused and horrified expression, and mumbling questions as to 'why?' and 'what happened?' Thankfully all the cars nearby where off so there were no radios for him to worry about. It is unfortunate when your thoughts are broadcasted on a station someone is listening to.
Roger scanned the area, he wanted to find a good vantage point but there were no truly good ones. So all that was left was to play the innocent bystander, scared by the events. "How can something like this happen in this city!?"
Even from his position on the ground, Jamison could see the red squares on one of the bystander’s faces. He was harboring ill intentions about something. Something that involved Jamison in some way.
He pinned his captive’s hands. “Would you stop struggling, already?!” He ordered, all the wiggling was distracting him from being able to see and read the clouds around him.
There! He saw it again in one of the people watching him. For a full minute all he could see was that cloud. It was a brightly colored patch of yellow and red in a sea of dull blues and greens. Everyone else in the crowd around him was concerned, curious, nervous, or still a little frightened. The shapes in this one, however, had sharp corners and defined edges. He was calm, despite trying to appear concerned. His thoughts were clear and focused, as though he was carrying out a plan. One that made him happy, yet was threatening.
Paradox shuddered. Maybe he hadn’t tackled the right gunman, after all. He squinted, trying to see past the cloud and to the physical features underneath. At the moment, he had to stay where he was until the police could pick up the guy under him. But he would remember that face. That face would find it hard to slip through the crowd, for he had a few questions to answer.
Fortunately, the next wave of policemen was arriving on the scene even as he was thinking those thoughts. Jamison got slowly to his feet, pulling the now whimpering would-be assailant up with him, readying himself to hand him off. The face always stayed in the corner of his eye.
Posted by whitenoise on Jul 3, 2010 13:07:55 GMT -6
Guest
No good vantage points existed, no opportunities to further disrupt New York in planned chaos existed, and police were arriving. It was time to leave. Roger back out of the crowd, and set off down the street. He walked casually, but with a purpose as always. People tended to shy away from disrupting those who move like they have a purpose.
Having put a block between himself and the scene, Roger slid into an alley. He assumed that the police wouldn't tape off this far and once they did he could watch from a distance the officer try to explain why he shot the citizen, And not have a reason which can be proven.
Paradox dodged many of the questions being lobbed at him by the approaching officer. The “Who are you”s and “How did you bring him down”s and the “What is your involvement in this?”s. The officer, while a rather attractive, petite woman was also rather annoying. He had a mission.
“Can’t a guy just do his civic duty, ma’am?” He forcibly turned the man around to offer his hands to the officer for cuffing then slipped away with a nod of the head.
It was slightly harder to spot his target when the guy’s back was turned. He was moving quickly, but not running. Jamison smiled, he knew he could catch up. He wasn’t terribly familiar with Time’s Square, so rather than try to head the guy off, he just followed him.
The advantage tipped in his favor when he tucked into an alley off the main drag. Paradox whipped around the corner, slamming the man into the wall.
“What was all that about, pal?” he demanded, voice dripping with annoyance.
Posted by whitenoise on Jul 8, 2010 14:36:34 GMT -6
Guest
He would wait for the suspects to be rounded up and the area to be taped off. That shouldn't take that long, following which there would be questioning and more questioning of all the people on the scene. Being patient and staying here until the initial control was established was the best option. Or at least, it was in theory.
Not all that long later a man came around the corner into the same alley and without provocation slammed Roger into the wall. This guy obviously never learned about how to make a good first impression, because this was by far not how to do it. This was in fact how you leave a first impression of irritation and anger directed toward yourself.
“What was all that about, pal?” The man demanded. Roger, who had been looking the other way when this man came into the alley, now got another look at the fellow. His aggressive face, brown hair and brown eyes. No smoothness to it, a cold sharpness to its features which were intimidating on person.
Roger, stared the man in the eye wearing a poker face and replied calmly with, "What was what about? You're the one driving strangers into walls." Feigning ignorance was always fun.
Paradox growled, deep in his throat. The reason for this guttural and rather impressive noise was twofold: 1. He was expressing his distaste for the creature he was pinning to the wall and his silly need to lie to him and 2. His throat tickled as his jaw shifted to become more square and kind of stubbly. Facial hair randomly popping forth always tickled extra.
It also gave him time to think of and reject several statements, such as ‘I saw you at the scene.’ Which, of course, he couldn’t say. He finally settled on: “Don’t lie to me! I saw what you did!” Technically not true, as he had not seen the man act, though the sentiment- that he knew this man had had something to do with the shooting, came across loud and clear.
“What are you? Some kind of terrorist or…?” he couldn’t really think of a worse accusation, so he let the end of that question drop. One way or another, he would get answers. Maybe when he was done with his own version of justice, he’d drop this one off somewhere to be picked up by the local police, too. It would be his just rewards.
Posted by whitenoise on Jul 10, 2010 12:04:05 GMT -6
Guest
The man proceeded to growl, apparently he was some kind of crazed animal man. A crazed animal man who needed to vacate Roger's personal space!
“Don’t lie to me! I saw what you did!”
He saw what Roger did? Beyond dropping a radio and pointing his palm at a police officer there was nothing to see. Although the possibility of him being a mutant who can see radiowaves was a possibility, this city seemed to be full of them. Which begged the question why they had not toppled the human establishment?
“What are you? Some kind of terrorist or…?”
A terrorist? No, more like a revolutionary of sorts. A revolutionary who can bide his time and chip away at all humans have created.
"I have done nothing illegal you could see!" Assuming this man was not a radiowave perceiving man, it was not a lie. "And I am too well dressed to be a terrorist. Now back off! This pressed against wall thing is really uncomfortable"
His confidence and arrogance were written all over his face. His tone was smug, too. But there was something there that betrayed a little bit of fear. Perhaps it was fear of being assaulted by a large man who was currently pinning him against a wall… or more likely, it was the fear of being found caught in a lie. This was a feeling Paradox knew well. A lesser man, someone less well versed in the world of lying and deception might also have missed the subtle confession in his words.
“That I could see, huh? And what about what no one saw- those first shots?”
He was close to the truth, he knew it. No one had seen the first shooter- the person who’d ignited the whole mess. He only had his instincts and the red flag, so to speak, that had been thrown up by this man’s emotional cloud.
Jamison thought of what his father would do in this situation. His dad was such an honorable man and he’d always said that ‘it’s in the intentions, son, whether you’re a hero or a villain it starts in the heart.’ Well this guy definitely had villainous intentions and he reasonably suspected that those intentions had been carried through to actions.
“Why’d you do it? What’s in it for you?” You piece of filth, he added in his head.
Posted by whitenoise on Jul 11, 2010 20:35:44 GMT -6
Guest
The man did not let off, and continued to press him for information. Literally and figuratively. And the man was smart enough to pick up on Roger's little dodge, and he continued to insist that Roger had something to do with the incident.
"Well I didn't fire a gun. And stop insisting I had something to do with this!" He emphasized his statement with a little push back against his assailant.
He wanted this guy to just leave. His chance to see what happens to the officer was more than likely gone by now. And if this fellow didn't leave soon he would have a first hand lesson in why not to stand in front of an active microwave with an open door.
Jamison let the little push propel him away from the man and the wall. He knew for certain that this guy was lying to him about not having anything to do with that tragic incident, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was no vigilante and also no police officer. Jamison also had no hard evidence against the guy. He hadn’t confessed, nor had Jamison really seen anything at the scene.
He shrugged. “I will if you stop insisting that you didn’t.”
From this new perspective, he squinted through the grey cloudiness, trying to see the man’s natural face again. In the time they’d been… discussing… the cloud had grown very prominent and thick. Grey wasn’t all that telling at the moment though, it was obvious that he was suspicious of Paradox and reluctant to tell him anything. Apprehension, unease, probably some nervousness. These things were given. The other colors were what he was really interested in, as they would be the most telling, but there was so much grey that he was having a hard time seeing anything else.
There! The cloud parted slightly and right in the center, he got a glimpse of dark, deep red. A patch of cruelty and hostility beneath the surface.
Jamison lowered his hands and took one step backwards. He’d expected misery or frustration, some kind of rational motivation behind the man’s actions. He… enjoys it? Other people’s pain?
Paradox shifted his weight, knowing now that he’d underestimated the guy and his potential to be dangerous. He needed to be ready for anything lest he be the one learning a lesson in this alley.
Posted by whitenoise on Jul 19, 2010 15:07:31 GMT -6
Guest
Roger's push back had worked better than intended, the aggressive hero backed off. Roger patted his own back, trying to knock off anything the suit picked up from the wall, and straightened his tie.
“I will if you stop insisting that you didn’t.”
Roger cocked his head to the side, "And here I thought people were innocent until proven guilty," He let out a little smile. "and you seem to be short of proof."
Normally poking a bear is a bad idea, but Roger wanted to goad this man into striking him. It may hurt, but with no proof to tie him to the shooting, this man would be guilty of assault. The attempted hero in handcuffs, nothing was sweeter. And it was only fair, right? This oaf had shoved him up against a wall and ruined his plans. Not to mention making him worry, even if it was short lived.
