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.
His flight back had been......eventful to say the least but he'd managed to finally crawl into his small apartment in the wee hours of the morning. Dumping his various bags, items and belongings his first thought was the collapse on the bed, Which would have been a great idea if he hadn't then slept the entire day away and only woke up as the sun went down. So here he was, wide awake just past midnight, with no food in the fridge and only a hazy idea of where might be open late enough to grab some supplies and maybe a hot meal.
Obviously, his memory of the city wasn't as good as he'd been hoping because it wasn't long before he'd found himself in a part of the city that was seedy at best and dangerous at worst. Like at night, past midnight, in the area where the street lights were playing up. So he was in the pan but so far the heat was bearable, no reason to jump anywhere yet.
Between one shop and the next, the fire showed up. Sounds of a scuffle echoed from down an alley, muffled swearing and the meaty thwak of punches finding their mark. About the kind of thing you expected to hear in that part of town but the Scot didn't have any reason to get involved, at least he hadn't before the pleading started. Before, he would have happily let some thugs beat the ever loving s**t out of each other all day long. Now though, no someone clearly didn't want to be there and as much as he hadn't getting dragged back into the same of nonsense as before his journey home, it just wasn't in him to not do something.
Relatively quietly Artair made his way towards the sound of fighting, although a decent amount of it had slowed down, and peered around a corner to gauge how bad the situation was for the unlucky sods who'd lost.
In short, it was bad. In long, it was really f***ing bad.
One guy had a knife to his throat, another was being kicked while squirming on the ground. Only one of the losing thugs was still up and he was in rough shape, swaying from side to side and bleeding from small multiple cuts and busted skin. A few more were writing on the ground groaning or worse, not moving at all. Clearly someone had to do something. Why did that someone always have to be him?
"OK lads, fun times over." Stepping out from around the corner he sure was missing not having any of his collapsible weapons on him but a trip to haven hadn't been the first thing on his mind. He'd just have to make do the old fashioned way. "Why not just leave the poor sods alone and everyone gets to walk away with all their bits attached ey?"
“I agree,” Elliott said calmly. He strode down the brick wall of the alley, as if he weren’t standing so his body and the wall formed a right angle.
The sounds had reached him as he’d stepped out from inside a liquor store on the corner. Cries for help. He hadn’t been as fast as the Scot. A few steps over to his parked motorcycle, to deposit the bottle of Jameson in the bike bin. A moment to grab a bright yellow smiley face helmet from the handlebars, one of his constant rotation of helmets with painted-on smiles. A moment to pull it on, and strip off his shoes. The two toes on one of his green feet wiggled in street slime as he stashed the shoes away with the liquor.
“Wonderful,” he muttered. And then, he was tromping up the side of the nearest building, up and around to the wall in the alley.
It had taken a lot of physical training to gain the requisite core strength to stand at a right angle to the ground. It was worth every minute. He’d rushed to the scene, though, and now he was stalking down a brick wall towards a bad situation.
There were several men down already, one at knifepoint, one getting thwacked in the gut by a steel toed jackhammer. Several thugs were doing the pounding. And there was a bystander with red hair and a Scottish accent.
Elliott had slowed his stride approaching from above, because a scene like this required more tact than he regularly exercised. Usually, he opted for the element of surprise, but the elephant in the room, the knife against the man’s throat, suggested he not startle the man wielding it- as that was a bad idea.
The bottom of his black leather jacket dangled of either side of Elliott’s body, due to the gravity of the situation. He crossed his arms across his chest, about ten feet above the man with the knife. On the wall. His three-fingered green hands and two-toed feet were obscured by the darkness of the alley.
The yellow helmet smiled. Elliott did not. His voice was filled with chipper spirit, though! Because what good is a mask without another layer of mask over that one? A persona!
The man with the knife changed his expression from one of sneering disdain and annoyance towards the Scotsman, to one of uncertainty as he glanced up at the sudden voice. His fellows took an unspoken cue from him, and shifted between facing towards the guy by the alleys mouth and the one above.
“I agree,” Smiley Face Helmet repeatedly cheerfully. “With the Scotsman. Leave the poor sods alone and go. Unless you want to take a worse pounding than an adult film actress on the set of their latest film. Yo,” he said, and glanced towards the redhead. “Want to team up? In case they don’t take our wise words of wisdom to heart.”
