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.
Life certainly did get complicated. Here Sara sat, in the muddy brown station wagon, with a partner for the moment. Joey, back at the bonds office, hadn’t allowed her or, her new partner, Edwards, to take on the latest failure to appear in court, (FTA) alone. The truth was, he wasn’t happy about only sending two bond enforcement officers (Other wise known as a bounty hunter.) on the case, but two employees were what he was down to at the moment. So sending a third, would mean sending himself. Something that was as likely to happen as a telekinetic moose, laying an egg.
Sara didn’t blame the others for quitting. Especially Lela, who was Joey’s secretary. Stuck in the office with a, constant, yelling, stress case. Not fun. The job sucked, lately, but at least it was a job.
Under any other circumstances, Sara would find a way of sending Edwards away from the case. She liked to work alone, and it was during the time, that she was dealing with the dangerous individuals, that she felt the most strong, and at the same time, the most vulnerable. Vulnerability could always be BSed and turned into vindictive, pain in the tail side, Sara, but there was always a chance that Sara’s softer side might actually be seen. She hated that fact. She hated that someone who was working with her, might receive pain, no matter how much of a pain they could be back, and she hated knowing that her job might be the end of who ever she was working with. Even if they was their job two.
The having to work with someone was especially hard, during the long stakeouts. Sara kept her emotions from getting the better of her, by following patterns. Often falling into, what the police called, protocol, because there was a comfort that a pattern brought. Sara could speed up what was going on, because she knew what was happening with the rest of the pattern, or she could slow things down. Giving herself time to think. The reasons stakeouts, with another individual, became a problem, was the unknown, the unpredictable, and the waiting that gave Sara a chance of over think. The fake front always fell when she was given a chance to over think.
The two of them had been seated in Sara’s old, mud brown, station wagon for about an hour in a half. Sara was behind the wheel, Edwards reclined in the passenger seat. His hart muscular arms crossed behind his head, making himself comfortable. Their file resting open, over the arm rest, between them. Sara was leaning back against the seat, but her eyes kept moving to look between the picture, in the open file, and the street. She had long since memorized the information.
Her and Edwards had been sent after a Charles Morgan. Morgan had been arrested back in February, suspected of arson and murder, His herring came along, where bail had been set, and a friend of Mr. Morgan’s had bailed him out so he could wait for his court date in the comfort of his own home. Funny thing was, he had other plans. So when his court date came around, he became yet another FTA on Sara’s list.
According to Charles Morgan’s paper work, he lived down town. Sara and Edwards had searched through the apartment complex’s, and ended up doing a lot of foot work the past week. Following a familiar pattern of questioning neighbors. Sara would listen to their vitals, to tell how truthful they were being, and how they reacted when the photograph of Charles Morgan. The pattern was repetitive, and familiar, till it hit an incongruent step. Sara showed the picture to a young woman. Her expression had faltered, for a moment, and her heart actually skipped a beat in it’s own pattern before speeding up. Edward and Sara, ended up speaking to the girl for over an hour. Not all of her answers were straight answers, but the information that they were able to receive, based on correct and incorrect answers, led them here.
Here, was two miles north of Charles’s original address. On the right were tall run down apartment complexes. The type that had fire escapes residents liked to use as balconies, and to the left was a row of ware houses that didn’t look nearly so unkept. Large trucks continuously came in and came out as if they were giant Bees returning to the hive.
Posted by WereCat on Sept 29, 2008 11:38:32 GMT -6
Mutant God
1,872
8
Aug 31, 2017 18:09:18 GMT -6
“You’re doing it again.” Edward’s gravely voice found it’s way into Sara’s thoughts and she checked what she was doing. Apparently Biting her nails bothered him, because without thinking, that’s all Sara had been doing, nibbling on the claw in her left thumb, till she had gotten to the quick. Sara pulled, what was left of, the nail out of her mouth and examined it.
“you’re not my mother, you know.” As soon as Sara stopped the nibbling on her thumb nail, the butterflies crept back into her stomach returned. There was a sting at the tip of her thumb, where she had bitten too hard.
Edwards snorted from his passenger seat. He had barely moved, the entire time they had been sitting there. His large, muscular arms relaxed and crossed behind his head, and his seat reclined back. His, yellow, eyes had barely been open. If it wasn’t for the facthis breathing had never changed, Sara would have thought he’d fallen asleep.
Edwards was like a rock. In personality and in physique. Sara was sure he had a mutation of some kind, that kept him above par, and alive, in this line of work, but the subject never came up. Edward didn’t ask about hers, she didn’t ask about his. The pairing was an odd partnership. Partially an understanding, partially a stubborn will.
The two of them fell silent, again, for another ten minutes. Mean while, Nothing had changed, outside the car, and Sara’s thumb nail had found it’s way back between her teeth.
Edward reached over, and clasped his hand around her wrist, pulling her hand away from her face.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Sara asked. Yanking her wrist out of Edward hand, and indignantly making her knuckles collide with the window, when he let go. Ouch. She hit her hand just in the right spot to make her fingers go numb.
“You want your fingers mutilated, I’ll be happy to do that for you.” He grumbles. Now leaning over the arm rest between them, where Sara mirrored his actions. “If not, leave your claws alone!”
Sara’s head tilted. She’d been warning the illusion the entire time her and Edwards had been working together, and she didn’t know how Edwards would know about her claws, that were actually the things that she was biting. She slowly leaned back against her seat, and a beat later, Edwards did the same. Carefully, watching her reaction, before his head turned forward again, and rest against the seat.
There was another reason why Sara and Edwards didn’t get along. Edwards always treated Sara like a child. Even when Sara was a child, she had never been treated like one. He just knew he bothered her. She was thirty four years old, for crying out loud.
With out biting to have done, Sara’s claws began looking for other things too do. Their FTA file had already been reorganized, and tapped together so that all the papers laid neatly over each other. The change, in the cars build in ash tray had already been stacked, and sorted, not only by dime, nickel, penny and quarter, but also by date. That left finger tapping.
Sara leaned back in her seat and her right index finger began to slowly tap. Edwards cleared his throat, making her finger pause in mid tap. Oh that bothered him two, did it? She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was glaring straight a head at the street. Hunched against the opposite door.
Slowly Sara’s index fingere began to move. This time, not only in light taps, but heavy taps, throwing in some light scratching sounds with the tip of her claw, circling, against the fabric. Filling the car with her own version of a hip hop beat. Treat her like a kid and she could act like a kid. After all. He started it.
Edwards lifted his hand above Sara’s as if he was about to press his palm over hers to shut up her wordless protest. His hand hovered there, then he turned the gesture into a stretch. With his arm moving across the front of her face. Just an inch in front of her nose, and he leaned the seat back. Returning to the position with his arms crossed behind his head.
