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.
When Chrys told people that she was an executive in her father's trading company, they always acted very impressed by her position. Some words were inherently flashy, and among those, executive, successful, and company ranked highly.
What was less impressive was how much of a figurehead she was; she had clout and stature but little responsibility or influence, like a queen. Being like a queen came with benefits, (like a short list of duties, a nice paycheck, and the ability to call employees "peasants," much to her father's chagrin,) but there were also downsides.
No one besides her peasants seemed to take her seriously. She was expected to sit in on the occasional meetings, but any time she proposed an idea, the entire room seemed to be smiling tensely until she finished and they could move on. Doctor Demente suggested that this could be an underlying cause of her need to seek control in personal situations, but Doctor Demente was a weirdo who thought Chrys was crazy.
The other big problem of being a figurehead was how often Chrys was told she was not needed at the office, or how often she was relegated to sitting and playing on a computer with nothing to do until the workday ended. Often, Chrys just left the building early in the day; no one would notice anyway.
One thing did suck about leaving work early: she had nothing to do. Chrys loved the nighttime because she could go dancing or stalking or any of the fun things she enjoyed, but in the daytime, most of her favorite games were off the table.
Chrys went to the park sometimes, because she heard people liked the park. Every time she tried it, she quickly realized that people were weird. The park was dull.
The faux-business woman was sitting on a bench, still in her nice white work blouse and her pencil skirt. Her head was pulled back so she could look up at the sky, but there were not even any clouds to look at!
"Everything's SO boring!" she groaned. Something needed to come along and spice things up, or Chrys was going to have to make her own fun.
So a politician's spoiled, bat@#$t daughter was sitting on a park bench... What, you've heard this one? What a shame, you're about to hear it again.
A certain hideous being of simply wicked temperament sat spying the subject of the joke running about his buggy little head. He was dressed in a not at all revealing trench coat, with a big hat that covered the previously mentioned head. It really wasn't possible for him to look any more suspicious... But he didn't look like a giant cockroach at first glance, so that was a plus.
He tilted his head a little as the girl groaned expressively... He'd been sent on a mission of a sort; he was to frame the politician's reportedly eccentric daughter for a crime, and procure evidence of it, without letting her get arrested... They would then use such evidence to blackmail her dear old dad, to give the Order some pull when it came to local policies.
Honestly, he could have just walked up and thrown a dead body on her, and started snapping pictures, but something about the way she was described to him piqued his interest... Maybe he could have a little more fun with this... Slowly he crept up to her position, remaining deathly silent as he neared the park bench. "Don't turn around... If you do, I'll leave, and you'll be out a good deal of fun... Now, Chrysanthemum Van Hart... Answer me this... Have you ever felt like you were destined for more?"
He was sure to stay just out of the corner of her eye, so all she could see was a shadowy figure... He wondered if she would turn around... Something told him, from her outburst moments ago, that she wouldn't be willing to turn down a good time, though. "I am called Samael... I am the angel of death... And I have a task only you can complete."
Thanks to Andrea and Jorge for my sigs! I WABBLE YOUUU! AV Roach~
Chrys was huffing and puffing, but there was no one around to fix her boredom. Her daddy wanted her to travel around with one of his employees, but having the suits around was less fun than being left alone.
The disappointed heiress was almost ready to go fill her time with pointless shopping when a figure behind her cast a shadow, both literally with his presence and figuratively with his dark, heady questions.
Of course, her initial reaction would have been to turn around, but he said that doing that would make him walk away... and he was promising her some fun...
Whether he knew what "fun" was for her or not was his own issue, but she would continue with his game. "Oh, I'm destined for a lot, sir, but keep talking anyway," she replied in a dark, velvety voice.
The mystery man called himself Samael. He said he was "the angel of death." Chrys did not believe in angels, but if she did, she had to imagine the angel of death would be her favorite. He could not see her face, but her lips were curling into a wicked smile; he was heading in a direction she was interested in. "Oh? Please do tell me more, O Angel." Her tone was mocking, but her enthusiasm was real regardless. "Far be it for me to deny a divine request, right?"
