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 night was perfect. There was no moon to cast its light upon the grounds. The darkness cloaked the frame of the young female that leaned against a tree. She didn’t move, she didn’t make a sound other than breathing.
It wasn’t the first time she was there. It wasn’t the first time piercing blue eyes were locked on the mansion not far away. It wasn’t the Mansion but it wasn’t far from it either. When he’d mentioned it, she didn’t think it was that near.
The night brought something new though. This night, Alexandra Kettler was going to dance with the devil. This devil had a name and a face that were carved into her mind for a while now. That couldn’t be erased, forgotten or simply ignored. Roland Pruitt. He’d forced his way into her life. He’d trapped her in a corner giving her no other possible escape but fight back. He made a declaration of war. Did he expect her to just give up? He wanted to be in her life. But did he know that that was more than an invitation for her to get into his?
She’d spent days and nights researching. She’d hired investigators. She’d bribed, threatened and tortured people just to take another step closer to her goal. He liked to keep her on a short leash. To insult her. To force her override her own opinions and thoughts and adopt his instead. And she wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Teach him that winning a battle didn’t mean you won the war. Not in her case, anyway.
And now, it was time to take another step. Alexandra moved, eyes still locked on the mansion and determination painting a cold expression across her face. She knew that she didn’t leave any room for failure.
Marche Slave played throughout the house, the slow movements working melodically throughout speakers recessed in the walls. The shower was running in Roland's master bath as he stood naked before the mirror admiring himself. The money for the X-Jet gig was being reinvested properly, the drug was being processed and produced and the last Fed to give him static was eating through a straw now. Yes, all was well. He did some faux conducting in the mirror to the rising crescendo of the music and stepped into the steamy box.
Soaping and scrubbing, he adjusted the various directional sprayers and worked on the levels of the music. The heat, humidity and steam brought sweet Alex back to his mind. Not like she had left recently. She hovered over his bed at night in his mind's eye, her piercing blue eyes on him. It was reminiscient of the Ghostbusters scene. The water soon was turned off and Roland's arm reached out for a towel. Double damn. he hadn't put one out. Stepping out of the glass box, he walked along the corridor to a nearby linen closet.
The security system made her laugh. For a man with Roland’s past she pretty much expected something better. Sure, for someone who dared to venture inside Roland’s house without much knowledge about the traps that awaited it was … deathly. And yet, for someone that investigated the house it seemed silly. The security measures wouldn’t stop her even if she was half-awake and with her hands tied behind her back.
Sure, she did have to threaten a few to get the blueprints for the mansion and the security systems installed – a fact she was pretty sure Luke wouldn’t appreciate since, guess what, none else but Jacobs & Jacobs was hired by Roland to secure his home- but, oh well. Desperate times called for desperate measures, right?
Although she didn’t need to be silent – the music covering any sound she might have made – Alexandra was. From her previous surveillance she was well aware that Roland will be on the second floor, most likely somewhere around the master bedroom. So, she made her way to the stairs, glancing around carefully – just in case she was wrong about the man’s location.
The jacket was pulled tighter around her frame as she patted the hidden pocket inside it. She’d chosen to wear her uniform – mainly for the reason that it was comfortable enough to let her move around freely and the utility belt that came with it – inside it, various other necessary objects were resting. Also, it was black and in the darkness, it made her practically impossible to see. Perfect, really, if you were looking to pay a surprise visit to someone.
A gloved hand touched the iron railing, and, as Alexandra started to ascend to the second floor, the metal followed obediently. At the top of the stairs, she stopped abruptly, looking at the tiles on the floor for a few moments. The metal she had gathered slowly started to spread on the ground, creating a bridge from her position to somewhere in the middle of the hallway. And so, Roland’s security system flew out the window.
As soon as her feet were of off the iron bridge, Alexandra was on her merry way to the master bedroom. Of course, she didn’t expect to see Roland’s naked butt poking out from behind a closet doors. That certainly made Alexandra roll her eyes and sigh inaudibly as she resumed her position behind the corner.
Figures I have to find him naked.
Apparently it was becoming a habit. Another sigh later, she removed from her belt a small bottle of chloroform. The bottle vanished into thin air as only the colorless fluid floated above her palm, still keeping the shape of the vial it had been in. Alexandra smirked slightly as her attention was shifted back to the man. Once his motions signaled her that he had found whatever he was looking for in the closet, it didn’t take more than two seconds for the anesthetic to move away from her hand and be dispersed around Roland’s head where he could easily inhale it and go to la-la land.
Alexandra ducked back to her hiding place behind the corner. She was fairly certain that Roland would drop to the ground pretty soon but she didn’t want to be seen. Not yet, at least. Nor did she want to have something sharp and pointy poking at her neck, in case Roland had some amount of resistance to the substance.
Thump.
Blink. It didn’t take too long. With satisfaction carved deep in her expression, Alexandra looked around the corner, enjoying the sight. Stepping away from her hiding place, she walked over and looked at the sleeping Roland, her palm outstretched. The small bottle she previously held in her hand appeared, the remaining chloroform in the air gathering up inside it. “Well.” Her head tilted to the side as the bottle was placed back into the belt. “I guess you’re not so tough anymore, Roland.” Alexandra patted the inside pocket of her jacket again. She was going to make sure that things stayed that way for the rest of the night, too.
Alexandra had to admit. Roland had some really comfy chairs. Her legs, draped over the arm of the chairs dangled from time to time out of boredom. Not long ago, she had let her head rest against the other arm of the chair as she studied absently the ceiling. The smell of cigarettes hung heavy in the air – patience usually wasn’t one of her traits – or so said the dozen or so cigarette butts from the ashtray that stood in her lap. Smoke lazily left her mouth as she looked to the side where Roland stood, tied to a chair (not one that was as comfy as hers), collared and blindfolded. And with a towel covering his nudity, of course.
Geez. She never thought she’d wish to hear the man talk so badly.
Tiptoeing along the hall, doing his best to avoid dripping too much on the hardwood floor, Roland opened the linen closet and found the towels needed. He grabbed an extra one and dropped it beneath him, dragging it with his right foot to keep the floor humid at most. As the light of the bathroom approached, there was a noticeable odor in the air. Trying to wrap his mind around it, he had the disticnt impression that it was ...chloroform..He had...used it before, but usually in ..a mediummmm//
A slow dull pounding in Roland's head was the thing that woke him. His thoughts were still sluggish. It must have been chloroform, though now the smell was cigarette smoke.His yes tried to open, but maybe they were open? A blindfold. Which meant, yes, his hands were bound. There was still hardwood beneath his feet, so he made a guess that he might still be in his house. That would be a plus. There was something around his neck as well. Unaware of the composition of the blindfold, he made an attempt to remove it from his face via mutation.
A sharp crack of electric pain reminded him not to do that again. It also angered him, though his mind was still too foggy to take in the weight of the situation. it was the kind of collar he had worn in Romanaia. He moved his legs a bit, realizing his feet were bound as surely as his wrists. he was definitely dealing with a professional. Unsure of which professional it was, he kept his mouth shut. They were more than likely in the room and the odds of escaping the scenario alive meant that he would wait for them to speak and do his best to smooth whatever the problem was over.
The long wait paid off in the end. Alexandra didn’t miss the movements that signaled that Roland was awakening from the chloroform-induced sleep. She remained quiet – her eyes on him. Smoke left her mouth once again just as Roland was shocked by the collar placed around his neck. She smiled slightly – watching him being hurt did bring some satisfaction to her wounded pride.
He had turned off his mutation quickly and she guessed that he didn’t plan on using it anytime soon. The remote in her belt however meant that she could inflict pain when she wished to do so. And that made her feel good. Perhaps she was a little childish but she had worked hard to get Roland where she wanted him after he repeatedly invaded her life. She couldn’t lie and say she didn’t enjoy having the upper hand this time.
Roland kept quiet too – he didn’t act scared, not even close. Of course, she expected that. She’d gotten to know him more than she wanted – which was why she didn’t expect him to cower and ask for mercy. She could respect his professionalism. But that didn’t buy him any compassion from her side.
Alexandra finally moved. First, she put out the cigarette and tossed it into the ashtray next to the others. Then, she shifted in her chair so now she could easily see Roland instead of turning her head to the side to do so. “And here I thought I had to kiss you to wake you up.” Her smile broadened. She had this impression that Roland didn’t suspect which of his enemies – because she was sure she wasn’t the only one – was in the room with him. And she was probably at the bottom of the list with possible opponents. After all, he’d made his opinion about her clear – pretty face and completely stupid.
The disticnt sound of someone shifting their weight in a chair brought his attention to mind, turning Roland's general perceptive position toward the movement. Didn't mean there wasn't some thug standing behind him with a plastic bag, a bat, or some other fun. No sudden movements. Then, a voice. A lilting breeze of Romania blew over his ears. " Of course." he couldn't resist the smug smirk that was rising up his throat to cover his lips. he had turned her crank one too many times and now she had come to collect.
" I suppose you made the chloroform an aerosol, or just made it part fo the air with your gifts? Very shrewd and sneaky. I'm not sure why you left the towel on though. I was sure you would want to enjoy your quarry." He settled himself in the chair, taking an opportunity to move both wrists and ankles in the process, though they were both quite secure. Probably rope as well, which did him no good. If only everyone used handcuffs. Lifting his head to face the direction of the voice, he smacked his lips.
" Might I have a cigarette? I believe we blindfolded types get last requests and cigarettes." A kiss would have worked, though it would have revelaed something about him and the towel would have been a moot point.
Alexandra couldn’t resist shaking her head at the smug smirk on his lips. Of course. Who else would be smiling when tied to a chair with a collar on but Roland? And comment about the towel being left on, too. She pushed herself off the chair, moving silently until she was behind the chair. Bending her body, she rested her arms on the back of the chair, her lips moving into the vicinity of Roland’s ear as she whispered her own comment. “Now, now, Roland. If my intention was to see you naked I wouldn’t have needed chloroform and rope, don’t you think so?” She smiled too, straightening herself.
She didn’t comment on how she’d used the chloroform on him, unfortunately for him, he wouldn’t be getting any answers tonight. On the other hand, she planned on extracting the answers she needed from him. “And sorry, dear, granting any requests coming from you would be against my nature.” Alexandra moved again, this time, in front of the chair, where she could see him. Now, to solve her most disturbing problem. The playful attitude disappeared from her voice. She wanted to talk business. “You have something that I want. Something that I own. Where is it?”
Waiting on her usual teasing response, Roland did alot of thinking about baseball. Keeping his mind as far away from the voluptuous vixen stalking him in the room. He was surprised that he couldn't hear her move around behind him when he felt her soft, fragrant locks fall on his shoulder, no doubt leaving her full lips near his ear. "Now, now, Roland. If my intention was to see you naked I wouldn’t have needed chloroform and rope, don’t you think so?” The long, luxurious hair soon trailed away as she stood again at his rear. He could only shrug. " Who can say? Maybe you would like to be in my position." Of course he would. They both knew that.
Now she surely wore a smirk similar to his as she stood behind him, reminding him of her dominant role at the moment. He wondered if the irony was lost on her as she traded places with him. Did it matter at all? her voice appeared again in front of him, her sweet honey replaced with venomus bile. She was quite good at switching things up on a whim. Predictable as ever. "You have something that I want. Something that I own. Where is it?"
while knowing fully what it was she was actually after, Roland chose to play the game some more. She had started it and ending so easily would be a loss for them both. She wanted him to suffer and she wanted her to percolate. " Why, Mistress, it's here under this towel. You can have it anytime you like. You know that." He kept his smile on though he knew there would be repercussions for his defiance. he had never been into the whole submissive role, but Alexandra could make any man interested in just about anything. Baseball. Baseball. Baseball.
Did he have to turn absolutely every answer in something that was sex-related? As much as she enjoyed the verbal wars that took place every time they met, at the moment, Alexandra wanted to know the location of the files he had stolen from her back in the Romanian camps. Then she would decide what to do with him and if she was in the mood to listen his remarks. So, with that in mind, Alexandra leaned forward, her hand traveling to her belt, from which she removed a small knife.
Her hand moved again until it was pressing the blade against Roland’s neck, just above the collar. And with the knife poking at his neck, Alexandra spoke again. “You know what I am talking about.” She kept her voice neutral as she spoke. Not amused, not serious. That is, before another thought crossed her mind. At that, she couldn’t help herself to smirk for a moment. For a man whose life apparently consisted of money and women, she guessed that what she was about to do would be a real threat. The knife’s blade started to descend, from his neck to his chest and slowly moved lower. “I suggest you start speaking. If you still want to have children.” God forbid.
