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.
Situated in the back of the mansion library, Agnes sighed as she sat in an overly plush, comfy hair, reading a book of poetry on her lap. The teenager was dressed rather comfortably in jeans and loose purple shirt that she had had for far too long. It was faded and there threatened to be a hole opening up, but she did not bother to get rid of it. Mainly it was for sentimental reasons, but also because she simply did not have clothes. She was going to have to go shopping eventually.
Reaching up, she tucked a strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear, absentmindedly nibbled on her bottom lip and stared at the book she held. It was a heavy volume with those roughly cut pages that made it look like it was done by an amateur or that it was an extremely old volume. The heavy, earthy smell of the dust, the rough texture of the pages, the elegantly scrawled words and all Agnes could think about was…how can people read this stuff? Agnes was good at the sciences and math, she had never been one to be able to interpret poetry. The minds of those writers were much too hard to crack. She would rather attempt to a complicated math problem first than read this.
Still though, Agnes could not quiet. She had to read poetry last semester and to be honest it did not go well. She barely squeaked by passing the class but there was still so much she did not understand. And she knew she was going to have to take that same teacher again so it would work out for her if she at least attempted to figure it out on her own. She had to make herself learn this, however uncomfortable it may be.
So it was with a heavy sigh that she flipped the page onto the next poem and attempted to tackle it. Already she was getting lost in some of the language. But she did remember a good tip. If she read outloud, she may…just MAY be get a better understanding of what it was about. So, clearing her throat, she looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear and began to read…
“They sit there, resting in the warm soil, Thin and jade with their faces closed up tight, Never realizing the work and toil It takes to make their beds in the bright light.
Innocently they sip and feast all day Yet still they deny a peek of their masks. They seem indifferent gluttons, but what say You when, in the warmth of the sun, they bask?
Arms outstretched, colorful shields unfurling, And beauteous scents to cloud the air, they Greet the sun. They stand up tall, rivaling The rainbow’s hues, and all the work, they say, Is worth it. In that one moment, they’ve won Our hearts…just being flowers in the sun.”[/i]
Agnes sighed as she looked away from the poem, done with reading it. Quietly she gulped as she looked it over, once more reading a line or two while she stared at it. In the end though, Agnes could only shake her head as she muttered to herself.
“…the hell?” she sighed as she closed the book and tossed it aside.
Agnes could only twist her mouth in a discomforting way as she attempted to interpret that poem she just head. Her teacher would have a field day with it, going over all the lines, the choice of words, the imagery involved and pluck out things that Agnes could have never thought to look at. She did not know why the “T” was capitalized there, or why “gluttons” was used in that particular area. It was all Greek to her. All of it was done with an artistry that she simply did not have the mind to figure out. It was not that she was stupid and she did not want to try, it was simply that it took a certain mind to figure out poetry.
At least that was what she thought as she glanced over the page once more at it sat haphazardly on the edge of the chair. But, as she gave it a sidelong glance, the runaway arched her brow as she peered closely. Then…she caught something.
The rainbow’s hues, and all the work, they say, / Is worth it.
Pulling the book close she read that one line over and over again. The words began to connect, click and make sense. It was more than just a poem about pretty flowers blooming, more than just a poet’s attempt at a quick poem that made no sense. There was more under the skin. He was talking about something deeper than just our understanding of a flower…he was talking about life in a grander scale.
“Is worth it,” she repeated to herself.
To be honest Agnes did not know where she was going with this. Only that there was something there. There was something in the back of her mind telling her to focus on those three words because they spoke more volumes about the poem than an entire encyclopedia could, at least that’s what her teacher would say. Still, while her idea was vague, while it did not make the most sense right now…it was a start. It was something she could latch onto to, something she could explore.
With that Agnes reread the poem again, but kept a theme in the back of her mind. She may not understand poetry, but she had a feeling that if she kept working at this, which was difficult, in the end, however useless it seems…it’ll be worth it.
