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.
Megan huffed as she trudged along. If it hadn't been for him saving her hide more than a few times, she wouldn't have bothered to try and track him down at all. Unfortunately, that wasn't how it had turned out. She owed him money, as he had told her himself, and now she felt as though she owed him om a personal level.
Hopefully, the package she had tucked under her arm would solve her problem quickly. Through the lobby of a building she had been in far too many times, up a swift elevator ride, and before she knew it, she was at his door. She briefly considered just ditching the package there, knocking and running off before he spotted her... but she was suspicious of whether he would claim that she hadn't in fact paid him back if she didn't hand it to him in person. There may have also been a little nagging pride festering around under her anger. She'd made him a custom vest... woven the silk as tightly as she could get it, and added reinforcements to the in-between layers just to make sure it was bullet proof. She'd even thrown in a prototype she was working on... Silken grieves that he could velcro on over his forearms to protect them from getting sliced or slashed. Considering how many knives he always seemed to have hidden away on his person, she had thought it a nice touch.
Still... she hated that she even owed the big lummox at all. Giving away something she had worked blood, sweat, and tears into over the course of a few weeks for free wasn't exactly how she had envisioned her business starting up... but, if it would get him off her back, then she was more than willing to part with the items.
...if he'd even accept them.
If he didn't, she'd have to dip into her funding for a new apartment to pay him back, and that would be greatly annoying. Megan heaved a little sigh, blowing her bangs from her eyes, and tucked a few stray strands of midnight hair behind her ear. "Here goes nothing..." She mumbled to herself, before rapping on the door a couple of times.
Vicente growled as he stood in the middle of his gym room, lashing out with a variety of punches that nearly made short work of his punching bag. His massive fists struck hard and fast, slamming into the covering and denting it with the shapes of his knuckles and forearms. One punch followed another; he spun and lashed his forearm against training tool; then struck out again and again. It was to the point that the seams of the punching bag were beginning to split and the smallest grains of sand began to slip free.
But the assassin ignored that. He was far too wrapped up in his workout to give it a second thought. Lately too many incidents were catching him off guard and he needed to keep his focus and his skill level up. Which was why he was so intense with his training.
Another series of punches and Vicente was just about ready to demolish the punching bag when…
Knock!Knock!Knock![/b]
He blinked as he snapped his attention to the general direction of the front door. Wearing just his workout sweats, the massive, shirtless assassin grabbed a nearby machete and marched out of the hall, heading towards his door. He eyed it closely, wondering if it was another surprise encounter waiting for him. Cautiously he moved up to the peep hole and glanced outside.
“Megan?” he half-growled to himself.
He couldn’t wrap his mind around why she would possibly be here. There really didn’t seem to be any need for it, unless she was looking for a place to crash again. In which case, he could only wonder what trouble she had managed to get into this time.
Shaking his head, he tossed the machete into a nearby bucket, unlocked, and pulled open his door. He leaned against the doorway and peered down at her.
“Megan,” he said quietly. “What crap did you managed to get into this time?”
“Megan, What crap did you managed to get into this time?”
"I owed some old pickled fart." She made sure to add extra oomph to the owed part, just in case he didn't get it when she the package out at him, and shouldered past into his apartment. She also chose to ignore the implications that she had been the one getting herself into trouble. As far as she saw it, he always seemed to be the cause of her problems.
...well, at least within the span of time that she had known the man.
"I decided to be fancy and wrap your gifts.. because everyone knows a gift just isn't the same without paper involved." She stopped just inside the doorway, tapping her fingers on her leg, and held the bulky package out for him to take. She hadn't received any strange looks on the way in, even though she wasn't dressed in her usual manner and had a brown paper packed tucked securely under her arm.
"Since our last lovely meeting, i've had plenty of time to ponder on how often people shoot at you. I thought this might make up for a few things i've dragged you into... as well as keep you from getting a few bullets to the gut." She waited for him to accept the package, before turning to skip her sweater off. The twenty five year old folded the yellow top, and laid it carefully atop the back of the couch, before turning her attention to a small spot that had appeared at the hem of her dress. The bright colors of summer were a stark contrast to the dark clothing she had fallen into wearing. With her sweater gone, there was nothing to hide the many scars that graced her arms and shoulders, a tapestry of white specks on pale skin. Nor did she bother to hide any of the bandages peeking out from various injuries she had received from the last time they had met. She tapped a foot as she waited, bulky boots replaced with lean sneakers, and chewed on her bottom lip like a teenager waiting to here a test score.
What if he didn't like it?... What if she had measured wrong and it didn't fit him? A million nagging little questions flew through her mind. She batted them away like annoying flies, and attempted to turn her thoughts elsewhere. Where her mind. and eyes, ended up going happened to him a bare chest. A sweaty bare chest. She was near instantly transported back to the night he had been a younger version of himself, and fought back a blush with everything she had in her.
The assassin didn’t dignify that with a response. It was just one of the many things that Megan constantly grumbled about whenever she managed to find her way back to his place. Bantering with her would lead nowhere so the man simply rolled his eyes as she forced her way into his apartment. Shaking his head, he closed and locked the apartment door as he turned, eyeing the package that she carried oddly.
>> "I decided to be fancy and wrap your gifts.. because everyone knows a gift just isn't the same without paper involved.” [/color]
He could only arch his brow in response as she handed the gift off to him. Cautiously he took the present and turned it over in his hands. It was safe to say that the assassin was a little stunned by this turn of events. Why would Megan give him a present? Granted he did save her life more times than he could count, and he was sure that she racked up quite a bill with him. Maybe she was just trying to pay him off?
The assassin smirked as he took the package in hand.
“Well too big to fit a CD full of screeching noises, and not heavy enough to be a bomb,” he mumbled as he began to open the present.
He was cautious of course, but he doubted that she was really out to kill him. It was just as he finished unwrapping it that he noticed that is was some type of vest. Not unlike his leather one expect this particular item was made out of webbing, the same material that he had seen her use time and time again. What the hell was she thinking? This gift…it was actually useful to him! He’d seen the webbing in action before and knew it was pretty tough stuff.
Still slightly confused, he held it up to look at it in the light.
>> "Since our last lovely meeting, I've had plenty of time to ponder on how often people shoot at you. I thought this might make up for a few things I've dragged you into... as well as keep you from getting a few bullets to the gut."[/color]
He had to admit that he was mighty impressed with this vest. Of course she could have simply been playing a trick on him and made him a vest out of string and glue. But, it felt too much like the real thing. No, he had a pretty good notion that this vest was the real deal, and she was giving it to him.
Attention turned back to her, and he thought he caught a hint of red on her cheeks. What was she being blushing about? He glanced down at himself and did note that he was shirtless but such a thing never seemed to bother her before. The man simply shrugged it off but had to grin a little mischievously.
“Wow,” he smirked. “Well, I guess you can consider your debt paid off.” That was as close as she was going to get to a “Thank You” from the big lug. Still, though, he had to smirk and set his eyes upon her. “I take it you must really like seeing me around.”
“Wow, Well, I guess you can consider your debt paid off. I take it you must really like seeing me around.”
The twenty five year old bristled visibly at the comment. It didn't stop a wave of pride from washing over her, but it did cause her blush to intensify for a moment longer before she managed to beat it back into the depths from whence it came. Why did he always have to say things like that? It was so annoying! Even if there was a hint of truth to his words, that she did like having hm around, it's not like she was going to openly admit such a thing. Least of all to him personally.
"Make whatever assumptions you want, they will undoubtedly be wrong." She would have snubbed her nose at him, but she was too busy eyeballing her work again. The problem with creating things for other people was that you only ever seemed to notice mistakes once it had already been handed over. She did managed to cross her arms over her chest and nonchalantly lean back against the couch while she studied him.
The fact that he likes it, maybe even appreciated it was thrilling. She wanted him to put the damn thing on already so she could see how it fit him, and calculate any needed adjustments. It was starting to make her itch, and she felt the urge to walk over and put it on for him. "Are you gonna stand there and stare at it all day, or try it on? I need to see if it fits right on you." Wearing ill fitting armor would get you killed as sure as not having any at all.
Pushing herself away from the couch, she moseyed on over to stand and wait in front of him impatiently, trying all the while to push the memories of that night into the recesses of her mind.
>> "Make whatever assumptions you want, they will undoubtedly be wrong."
The assassin smirked at the comment. He knew that there was some truth to what he had said, but Megan, as always, was too prideful to ever admit it. Instead she wrapped herself in walls that were built to keep everyone out. The assassin commended her for that. He, too, was that way. He never liked to let anyone get close to him because they were liabilities.
Sure, he and Megan had some fun times together. But it was not like they were bosom buddies or anything. They simply…tolerated each other. And for the world of an assassin, that meant leaps and bounds.
Still though, he wondered what had possessed the young woman to have made him something like this. After all, despite the fact that she obviously had a soft spot for him, it was definitely not a relationship that required gifts. Maybe she really was scared of him trying to collect all the money that she owed. It was because of her that he lost out on a couple of jobs so it was only a fact that eventually he would come to her with a mind to collect.
While no straight thinking assassin would take clothing over money, he had to admit, he’d seen this webbing in action. It stopped a bullet once meant for her. In many ways, this was far superior than any money that he could collect from her.
>> "Are you gonna stand there and stare at it all day, or try it on? I need to see if it fits right on you."[/color]
Brow arched, he glanced to Megan as she strutted over and stood, waiting for him to try on the vest. Inwardly he chuckled but he did not voice it this time. There would be time for mocking her later. For now, Vicente silently slipped the vest onto his massive frame. Covering his overly large muscles, the man nodded as he turned from side-to-side, stretched and flexed, and found that it indeed fit just like a glove.
He nodded in an appreciative manner. “Fits perfect,” he said. “Seems you remember my…anatomy…fairly well.” He smirked. It was always good to get a jab in whenever he could.
After he had finally gotten it on, she circled around him. She watched the way her seams held together, made sure to pay attention to how it stretched when he turned, and felt another rush of pride flood into her.
It was her best work yet, in her opinion. It wasn't the prettiest thing in the world, that was for sure, but when it was intended for being worn under clothing that didn't really matter. A pleased grin hard worked it's way onto her lips, the closest she had been to actually smiling in months, as she finished up prodding here and there. Her need to make sure everything was perfect was dealt with for the moment. She felt content.
“Seems you remember my…anatomy…fairly well.”
...and then he went and opened his mouth again.
The happy grin was instantaneously replaced with a sour scowl. Of course he'd pick up on what was making her uncomfortable. Pale cheeks started to redden again, but this time it was with anger. She fought with herself for a few silent moments, unable to form sharp words to throw at him. Half of her was instantly on the offensive, but the other half knew that opening her mouth and spewing hateful things at him would only serve to get herself into more trouble.
"That's assuming that you have anything worthy of memorizing."
Turns out she wasn't very good at controlling her tongue. She turned her back on him, marching over to retrieve her sweater. He had his damn vest and he had told her himself that she didn't owe him anything anymore. There was no reason for her to stay any longer.
>> "That's assuming that you have anything worthy of memorizing."[/color]
Ouch.
The assassin thought this but had a sly grin on his face. He could obviously tell that he had Megan on the ropes now. The young woman was irritated and, try as she might to make her retort biting, all it came off as was childish. She was struggling to maintain herself, to keep from getting angry, but it was obvious that she was only putting up a façade. She was scrambling to get out of here and that was all the evidence that Vicente needed.
She huffed, grabbed her sweater and turned to leave the apartment. It was obvious that she was flustered and angry, but it was an expression that the girl wore well. Though he was still pissed at the things that happened when he was young, he still had to admit that the night he spent with her was rather…interesting. The woman had skill.
He noticed her blush, her flustered speech, and in her attempt leave he stepped in front of her. Casually the assassin arched a brow as he looked down at Megan. He could only wonder what was going on inside her head as he did this. Was she frustrated? Flustered again? Would she turn so red she would become a tomato? He didn’t know.
Instead, Vicente could only continue to grin in his sly way.
“I don’t remember you complaining the last time,” he grinned.
A string of nasty expletives jumped to mind the moment she turned and found her road blocked. She backed up a step before she could stop herself, what with being blocked by a guy a lot larger than herself, but managed not to let the pang of fear she felt show. Instead, her face screwed up in a rather unpleasant manner, and her cheeks darkened further.
He was enjoying this, damnit! "That's not surprising, i'm sure you don't remember a lot of things at your age." She felt her lip curl before the words were even out of her mouth, and had to mentally slam the lid back down on her emotions. Anger wasn't helping anything, especially since he only seemed to be enjoying the show of her growing temper.
With a huff, she tossed her sweater over one shoulder. Her shoulders squared, back straightened, and she forced a calm expression on over the boiling anger within. She needed to say her peace and politely excuse herself. Be the bigger man, as they said... even if the bigger man was the only actual man in the room.
"If you'll excuse me." She couldn't stop herself from gritting her teeth, which all but ruined the effort she had put into her mask.
>> "That's not surprising, i'm sure you don't remember a lot of things at your age."[/color]
The assassin only smirked. He knew that he was getting to her. He was getting under her skin because he caught her at one the most vulnerable moments of her life and if there was one thing he knew about Megan was that she hated to show vulnerability. Due to circumstances he didn’t know, she obviously kept on a strong exterior and Vicente had, unwittingly, managed to creep in underneath that.
Though the same could be said about himself. He was pretty vulnerable at that time as well but at least he had a excuse. He had had his memory wiped and was turned into a young man again who was lost and confused. Megan, unfortunately, was just being Megan that whole time.
They were memories that the assassin loved to savor and lord over the young woman whenever he got a chance. Though it was beginning to get to the young spider-queen, the assassin merely shrugged it off. She tended to be a pain in his butt so it was no wonder that she would get some reprisal in the long run. Still, there was no need to waste both of their times. She wanted to go and he needed to get back to his work out.
>> "If you'll excuse me." [/color]
He eyed her. She was struggling to keep in control, to keep from completely blowing her top and doing something stupid like attack him. So…the assassin didn’t move. He stared down into her eyes, watched her closely, then….just smiled as he stepped aside.
“By all means,” he said as he sidestepped her. Carefully he took off the vest that she made him so that he could hang it up somewhere for use later. He had to admit…she weaved a good web. Holding it in his hand, he waited for her to pass by and head to his door. When she had finally done so, he smirked. “Catch you around…Freckle…”
Of course…there was only ONE freckle that he was speaking of. One that she knew was in a most intimate place that only he would know of thanks to their night together. He just had to get that barb in…
She froze before she even had a foot out the doorway. Her shoulders visibly tensed, and the back of her neck reddened to a point that there was no use trying to hide it. Though he couldn't see it, a horrified look flashed across her face, before she managed to get a hold of herself.
Oh... My... God... He had not just called her that... had he?
He was the most infuriating man on the planet! She was one hundred percent sure of that fact now. She could feel her her pulse throbbing as her tempter struggled to wrench control away from her, and she was more than a little surprised that none of her teeth cracked from the way she was clenching her jaws together. How she managed to keep herself rooted to the spot while every fiber of her being wanted to turn and pelt the man with her fists, she would never no.
After a moment of standing there in silence, her body tense, the tension flooded from her like water dribbling off onto the floor. She felt relaxed.. but frighteningly so.. like her mind had shut off, and she wasn't thinking about how angry she had been only seconds before. Turning to face him, her expression flat and blank, she studied the guy in silence while
"...You were my first, you know that?"
Taking a step back in, and then another, she stopped before him. Her arms flat at her sides with her sweater dragging the ground in one hand. It was the truth, honest and bitter on her tongue. As much as she hated it, she had opened a door, no, a window, to this man. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to have to live with the memory of what they had done and that was that.
... but she still didn't have to be %&^*@$# happy about it!
"I wish it had been anyone other than YOU!""The fingers of one hand curled into a fist, and she reared her arm back to throw a wild punch at his damn stupid, smug face. (Or throat, since she was a tad bit shorter than him naturally.)
Vicente smirked a little as he stood before her, still holding the vest that she had made him in his large hand. In reality he remembered absolutely everything from that night and that was a fact that had not slipped his mind. Though he was not in his right mind and his body was much younger, the assassin did recall everything that had happened. He knew that he had struck a nerve with the young woman, but he really was not looking to hurt her feelings.
He just liked to jab and irritate her whenever he could. There was nothing wrong with that, right? Besides, it was not like he cared anything for this woman. She was simply a thorn in his side that always seemed to be presenting herself in situations. He knew what she was capable of so she should technically be able to handle a bit of ribbing every now and then.
She sauntered up to him, Vicente crossed his arms over his massive chest as she peered down at her. And at the same time that her face twisted into anger, his own slit into a grin…
>> "I wish it had been anyone other than YOU!""[/color]
A fist lashed out at him but the trained assassin proved to be far more skilled. Within a blink of an eye the man loomed seemingly unmoved except for a single arm that had twisted out and the massive bear-like hand that had seized her fist. Fingers curled around her balled up hand, he didn’t squeeze or harm her (though he could have easily broken her fingers for trying something like that). Instead he merely held tightly to keep her from getting away.
It was as he was watching that…something possessed him. Suddenly the assassin grinned as he leaned down and kissed her, hard, on the lips.
She wasn't even able to land a blow on him, not a single bruise or claw mark. Her fist was dwarfed in his, enveloped in an iron grip. Her outrage tripled, and she yanked on her arm to try and free herself.
... and then he was kissing her.
Wait...What?! Dumbfounded, her mind scrambled to catch up to this strange turn of events. She'd expected to get punched right back, or at least to get flung across the room and laughed at for a good long while. But... kissing? She couldn't even process it, and ended up standing there awkwardly with his lips pressed against hers.
Then, when she finally managed to pull away, it all caught back up with her. Megan flat out stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted in shock. Why had he gone and done that?... She'd been perfectly fine being angry at him, not confused.
...or... was he just screwing with her again? Pulling another trick on her about that night, to rub it in her face some more? A scowl captured her features and she stepped right back up to him, nearly onto him, and stared him right in the eyes.
Two could play this game!
And then she kissed him right back, just as swiftly.
And so the gauntlet had been thrown down. The kiss was merely just to irritate the young woman more, to see if maybe he would get any response that was other than stern disgust. If anything, Vicente loved to torture the young woman until she was so red she was about the explode from her fury. The punch was a good start, but he wanted to see what would happen if he kissed her again. This time there was not confused mind, no magically induced youth, nothing like that. Instead, this was merely them, as they were, and done for the heck of it.
She was obviously stunned to the point that she would waver either way on the emotional spectrum. Either she could end up completely flabbergasted and shocked, or she would be completely and utterly angry at him.
Of course she could go with a completely different option and kiss him right back. The movement was so sudden that Vicente actually reached up and grabbed her by her sides in case she were trying to pounce on him and punch his living daylights out. But as he held her, she pressed her lips to his and he paused. He was only caught off guard for a fraction of a second before he realized that this is more than likely she would have responded anyways.
Like always, she was attempting to throw him for a loop.
Well, he could definitely play that game. As she kissed him, he returned the favor, holding her tightly by her hips so that she would not squirrel away from him. The seconds felt like minutes has his large, calloused hands roamed over her sides, feeling the lithe, young body of the young woman in front of him. Every touch simply brought up a memory from that one night they had together. Only this time was different. He was not in a hazy-like dream of youth, he was real and within him.
When he finally broke the kiss, he leaned back to look at her closely. Again, that sadistic smile crept across his lips as he released her from his grip and stepped back.
“You can stay if you like,” he said in his deep, booming voice. “If not, the door is right behind you.”
With that, he turned on his heel and headed towards the bedroom. She could stay, or she could go, he really didn’t care either way. Megan could make her own decisions; whether they be good or bad ones…
When he pulled back she got a good look at the smile he was angling down at her, and shivered. The man was all predator, through and through. But she'd be damned if she'd let herself become the mouse in this situation.
“You can stay if you like, If not, the door is right behind you.”
Oooooh no! She was not going to let him pull that card on her. Turning his back on her and walking off as if he expected her to turn tail and run. She stood frozen to the spot for a moment, weighing her decisions. It would be easy to simply gather her things and leave... but, a challenge had been issued, and she stubbornly refused to back down.
... but... if she did follow him, what awaited her? He wasn't the same as he had been when he'd been struck by whatever that kid did to him. he was the usual gruff, irritating man she'd had the misfortune of running into. Would he be as gentle as he had been before, and if not... was she ready for something like that? Megan found her cheeks suddenly on fire, to the point that it was becoming rather uncomfortable.
He forced the thoughts from her head, held her chin up high, and stomped after him quickly. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of showing how nervous she was. How apprehensive. But, as soon as she crossed the threshold of the doorway into the actual bedroom, that notion flew straight out the window. There were too many fuzzy memories from before. She ended up standing just inside the doorway with her hands clasped behind her back, glaring ruefully at anything but Vicente.
How was this kind of thing supposed to go again? She'd been more than mildly drunk last time.
