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.
Hunter smiled at Katrina. He guessed that he wasn’t the only one who wanted her to enjoy her childhood. “Well it’s getting late and I have things to do,” he said rising from his chair, “I’ll come and collect you in the morning so you can meet Iris, will you be ready by half ten?”
After he and Paragon left he would most likely not see the lab again until the mission was complete. Kaz would be in command in his absence, but he had enough eyes and ears to ensure that Kaz wouldn’t be able to try and double cross him. He doubted the boy would, but he hadn’t lived as long as he had without learning to keep a close eye one everyone, friends and enemies.
“Katrina,” Hunter began when she asked about whether there was more she could have done, “While you are very mature for your age, you are still a child. Stuff like this is too big for you. When you have lived for as long as I have you look back upon your childhood with great fondness.”
Hunter took a moment to reflect back over four hundred years, back to before his powers. Back then, when he knew much less than he did now. Ignorance truly was bliss. “Do me a favour,” he asked her, “don’t try to grow up too fast. Your father will change his mind, in time.” Hunter would see to that.
Hunter was glad to see Katrina’s enthusiasm about helping train the resistance. It was a safe, but still helpful role that she could fulfil and there by feel involved with everyone. Then she got to the weightier issue of the conversation.
Hunter knew all about Katrina’s father, including which way he had voted. However, it was clear from her manner and that she neglected to mention his vote that she did not want Hunter to know about it. While deciding whether or not to tell her that he knew he set about answering her questions.
“Very perceptive of you Katrina,” he began, “and you are right, the courts will take a long time. However, the courts are just one angle that I am working from. I am also looking to persuade Congress. But to do so I have to get the Church of Humanity off their backs. Many senators’ votes were influenced by visits from members of the Church.”
Taking a deep breath he said, “Katrina, I know about your father. I know which way he voted, in favour of the registration law. I also know that that was not your decision, and you do not agree with him. I don’t want you to feel guilty because of his choice. It was his, not yours, it has no reflection on you.”
Hunter listened patiently to each question and responded to them in order. “I have no scar from the wound,” he said honestly, “You can check if you like.” He held out his hand to her, clearly showing that there were no scars. “I promise that when you come to visit that I will tell you a story each time.”
“You can meet Iris in the morning. She’s currently resting after a rough couple of days. Nothing serious, but she needs some sleep.” Few people could call a run in with a Stalker nothing serious, but the clear gem has sufficient power to mean she survived the confrontation with a relatively minor wound.
“As for helping out around here I did have something in mind. How would you like to help train the resistance? The way it would work is they are split into teams with no powers allowed. They then have to catch you, sort of like hide and seek. The twist is that you can use your powers.”
“As for any questions you have about the meeting, ask away and I shall do my best to answer them.” Hunter would only skimp on details when they were a security risk. He believed that she had a right to know what was going on, as after the disaster with trying to shield Paragon he thought it best.
So maybe he had gotten through to her. Katrina wanted to know how Hunter had met Queen Victoria. “By 1870 I was a very wealthy nobleman, still am in fact,” he said with a smile, “As Duke of Transylvania I travelled extensively. At this time the British Empire, which was ruled by Queen Victoria, was the largest Empire in the world.”
“The reasons behind meeting the queen were not entirely pleasant I’m afraid. Over ten years earlier her husband, Prince Albert, had died. The loss affected her terribly and she did not make any public appearances for a while. Due to her position of high power the queen was a prime target for assassination. With this in mind I was approached.”
“I was hired to be the queen’s bodyguard. The Prime Minster of the time, Benjamin Disraeli, was urging her to come back to the public domain. With some reluctance she did, with me as her bodyguard. I carried no weapon, for I have need of none, and accompanied the queen wherever she went.”
“I had never had need to protect the queen until 1882, almost ten years after my original employment. We were in her royal carriage leaving Windsor railway station when a shot rang out. Utilising my superhuman reflexes I snapped my arm out and blocked the bullet that would have otherwise hit the queen in the head.”
“The man was quickly arrested by local police. The queen herself thanked me for my service that day, and insisted that I no longer serve as her bodyguard after the injury she had seen me sustain. In truth the injury was minor, and I completely heal in days, but I was getting the urge to wonder once again, and so left. After that there was never another attempt on the queen’s life and she lived on to see in the twentieth century.”
Hunter smiled at Katrina’s comment. It was still clear that she didn’t believe that he was in fact over four centuries old. “That is Queen Victoria,” he said, “I met her a long time ago, a very nice woman. Not nearly as stiff as the history books make her out to be.”
Giving the girl a knowing wink Hunter sat back in the chair. It was now up to her as to whether she chose to accept his age or not.
Hunter watched the tumbleweed roll past and Katrina still not comment. Seemed she would want proof. Proving you were as old as he was was very difficult. Simply recounting what happened several centuries ago would probably be insufficient, as that could have been picked up out of a history book. Back in his apartment was an old portrait of him, but it could also be disregarded as a new painting made to look old.
Going over to one of the book shelves he pulled out a book that rarely saw the light of day. He opened it and took something out before returning the ancient book to its place on the shelf. Returning to Katrina he handed over the photo. It was a picture of him from 1873. The person he was standing with was Queen Victoria.
Hunter smiled at the girl’s disbelief. Taking in that fact that Hunter was as old as he was can be difficult for people to come to terms with. “I’m not joking Katrina,” he said, “I really am four hundred and thirty seven. I may not look it, but I have been alive for over four centuries.”
Hunter smiled at Katrina. The age question, he was wondering when that would pop up. It was true that he looked about Paragon’s age. In fact, h looked like at most he could have an eight year old child.
“I know I only look in my early twenties,” he told her, “but in fact I am four hundred and thirty seven years old.”
“When we’re out in public best call me Uncle Hunter, but you can just use Hunter otherwise,” Hunter answered to the first and easiest question. All the others were much more complicated, but he figured he’d rather explain it himself than let Paragon try.
“Iris doesn’t share my eyes and she is twenty one years old,” he began, “I’ve only discovered she was here in New York a few weeks ago. It’s a bit complicated, but when Iris was younger I planned to send her away to live what I thought would be a better life for her. Turns out I was wrong and just made things worse.”
“She’s still mad at me for that, but I hope with time she’ll come to understand my decision.” Katrina was the first person that he had shared this with apart from Paragon, and it was nice to explain to someone else a little of how he felt, even if it was only a twelve year old girl.
Upon hearing Katrina speak Hunter knew that he would have to let her visit. As far as he could tell he was the most stabilising, parental in the girl’s life at present. While she may well be meeting lots of big brother figures, like Kaz, he was the only one who seemed to offer the protection, comfort and authority of a parent. It seemed that since Paragon his parental instincts had been awoken. Since Paragon was born he’d never killed a child, something in the past he’d done without pause. Looking back on it now he regretted take the lives of people so young.
“How about I go one better?” he asked, “What if I was to say you could come and visit us while we’re out doing our work to help the resistance? My daughter and I will be living in an apartment in New York. If you think that you can pretend to be my niece then you can come and visit us. And you have to bring the oboe when you do and show me how good you’ve gotten.”
When things got riskier her visits would have to stop, but in the beginning it was safe enough to allow her to come and visit him. For the first time he wondered what Paragon would think about this. He’d promised her no lies, and no manipulation. In the morning he’d take Katrina to meet her and explain, although quite how he’d explain it he didn’t know yet.
Hunter smiled, the excitement on the girls face was obvious. He pressed the key lightly into Katrina’s hand and used his other hand to close her fingers around it. “For you,” he echoed, “Right now the exquisite instrument is just lying there in a cabinet. It seems such a waste considering there is someone here of remarkable talent willing to play it.”
Sitting back in his chair he paused for a moment, thinking about what to say. “Katrina, you remember at the meeting I mentioned that while everyone else was fighting in the resistance I would be off working the law from a different angle? Well the time has come for me to go and do that. I’m leaving for it tomorrow.”
He wouldn’t mention the possibility of visits unless she displayed an interesting in coming to see him. The visits would be a risk, not just to Katrina, but to him and Paragon as well. However, if she wanted to see him as much as he did her then she would be allowed to visit them during the early stages of the operation.
Hunter could almost sense the guilt radiating from her. The questioning of the illusions hadn’t been meant to make her feel guilty, so he said, “I think you’ll be alright so long as you keep the illusions small. If you practise them everyday you’ll find that soon enough you can create that ballroom without even breaking a sweat.”
“However, I didn’t come here to berate you for not practising your illusions. I came here for several reasons, one of which was to give you this.” He presented Katrina with a key. It was the key to the cabinet with the oboe in it. Hunter had yet to earn the oboe, it was unlikely to in the near future. Katrina could make use of it now, so he was going to allow her to practise while he was away.
Hunter finished the song with Katrina, who to her credit didn’t jump as his sudden appearance like Paragon did. Admittidly he’d been more subtle with this entrance that he had been with Paragon, but it was nice to see someone pleased to see him for a change.
Setting down his violin Hunter went and took a seat in one of the large, comfy chairs, beckoning for Katrina to come and sit with him. “You’re getting better,” he said, not wanting to jump right into the fact that he would soon be leaving, “but don’t forget to practise your illusions as well as your instrument.”
Upon hearing that Katrina was practising in the music conservatory he went down to meet her rather than have her sent up to him. He reached the door just as she began the piece again. It was the same piece that they had played together. Creeping silently into the room he kept out of sight of Katrina and made his way to the cabinet where his violin was stored.
Removing it soundlessly he closed the cabinet and readied the instrument. As he did so he began to think that during the opening stages of infiltration Katrina could probably come and visit them, the risk would be minimal. So long as the visits stopped once they got more heavily involved with the Church it would be fine. Waiting for an appropriate moment he began to play, joining in seamlessly with Katrina.