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 Pharoah Dynasty
An ancient sorceress is on a quest to bring her long-lost warrior-king to the modern era in a bid for global domination. Can the heroes of the modern world stop her before all is lost?
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.
Rex stumbled forward, each step bringing pain and a jarring in his head. He coughed and the action surged through his body like a spasm, his ribs protesting. He couldn’t stop yet. He had to keep moving! To get away. He was sure others had seen what happened, but he didn’t need to stick around. All that violence, that senseless disregard for others!
Rex clung to that anger and used it to power each step. It was only getting harder and harder. He’d only managed to travel a few streets and blocks. Fortunately, few people had paid any attention, but that number was sure to increase the farther he went. Every footstep was harder than the one before it.
He was sweating profusely, yet his hands were cold and clammy. The cool temperatures were piercing the gash on the back of his singed jacket, exposing the bleeding wound to all. That proved another source of pain.
“Madre de Dios,” he coughed out as a fresh spasm racked him. He knew the symptoms of what he was experiencing. Heat exhaustion. Too much magic. Possibly treading into heat stroke territory. Hard to tell. He needed to study it more, he needed to...needed to...
The smell of burnt hair and wool was still surrounding him and it was revolting. In fact, he probably still had streamers of smoke wisping away from him. The smell of it all brought back too many memories. He couldn’t handle it any more.
Rex managed to stumble over to the side of the sidewalk, just into an alley before retching. It almost drove him to his knees. Shakily, he righted himself and took another step. And another. Two more. Then three.
It was a typical night and she had stepped outside to run to the road, where a very patient delivery woman was waiting in her car with a whole armful of bags with all sorts of coffee and drinks. She had a tendency to spoil all of the other dancers, and those working behind the scenes, whenever she was on shift. She couldn't help it! It was hard to see so many people working their tails off and not want to make sure they were all doing okay. And, even if some wanted coffee, hydration was super important!
She turned, arms full of bags, and started to head back. Leah got about halfway before a sound reached her ears and she paused. She knew that sound well. Many patrons, and some newie dancers, often overdid it with the drinks and ended up out in the alleys and on the sidewalk, or in the bathrooms. She sighed, but couldn't ignore it. Someone was clearly not having a good time and she needed to make sure they were okay. Maybe call a cab if it was a customer, or help one of her co-workers up to one of the empty suites.
She set the bags down off to the side by the brick wall and hustled toward where the sound had come from. "Hellooo? You alright over here?" Leah spotted the person, seemingly passed out, and oof... she did not like what she saw.
A big cut? Some kind of huge wound clean through his clothes and down his back. He seemed to be visibly smoking, which didn't bode well either.
Her heart leapt into her throat and after a moment of collecting herself, she surged into action.
Off went the six-inch heels. She abandoned them without a care to one side and dropped to her bare knees beside the man. He was super out of it, but still appeared to be breathing so... that was good, right?
"Hang in there hon... I'll get you patched up in a jiffy, okay?"
As carefully as she could she hefted him up in her arms, only struggling a little to find balance with his weight, and then rushed as quickly as she could back to the club.
She got him into an empty VIP room and one of the other dancers brought her her phone. She dialed the first person she could think of to help. A little green woman who was sweet as pie and had the most adorable brown blush. Leah knew she could trust her with this, and that the guy would be whole again in no time.
A while later the man was healed, maybe a bit sore, and tucked comfily into the cushions of one of the large love seats in the room.
... He was also naked as the day he'd been born. The doc had been adamant about everyone being out of the room while she healed him, and when Leah had been allowed back in he was covered with a thin blanket. The Greek left her then, hurrying out with that adorable blush in place, and Leah was alone with the mystery man.
He still hadn't woken up yet and she was starting to wonder if she'd made the wrong choice in how to try and care for him. Maybe she should have handed him off to authorities?
... she would have spent the whole night worrying, though!
Leah sipped at her now cold coffee, lounging in a chair not too far away from the man. She hadn't bothered to change out of her outfit of the night. Why would she have? She was as comfortable in it as if it were a t-shirt and sweats. A black net tube top with pasties to cover... things. Black fishnet arm covers that connected behind her shoulders with a chain, which hung down to the black and attached to the sequin-covered short shorts she was wearing, with intentionally ripped fishnets under them. She didn't have her shoes on yet, but they were there. Sitting on the floor off to the side of her crossed legs.
Her hair was still tied back in two tight, blonde braids, and she still had her very elaborate stage makeup on, including cutesy pink hearts on her cheeks and deep red lipstick.
Rex slowly came to and his head...felt fine. It was a slow awakening, as if he’d been utterly exhausted - which he had been. Yet even on that cusp of wakefulness, he retained enough lucidity to realize for once, he hadn’t dreamed. Thank God for that. For the last couple of years he’d only had nightmares.
He exhaled deeply, content. He felt better, he felt....cool. As in he could feel air currents. Why weren’t his clothes blocking it? Or the blanket? Wait, what blanket?
Rex’s mind kicked into gear and he opened his eyes to a strange ceiling and strange walls. He wasn’t home. Was this a hospital? He had heat exhaustion, possibly heat stroke. That was a medical emergency. Someone must’ve called an ambulance for him.
Reflexively, he sat up and started scanning his surroundings. His breath caught as he saw the woman dressed in...Rex immediately turned his head away and he stared at the side of whatever he was sitting on. “Sorry, miss,” he apologized, still not looking at the nearly naked lady. “But where am I?”
Then the sheet finally succumbed to gravity and fell down, exposing his well-developed chest. “And where are my clothes?” And your clothes?!
A deep breath from the sleeping man caught her attention, so she slowly dropped her phone into her lap and watched him with her natural curiosity on high. He gradually came too, seemed to look around where he was, and when he finally turned and looked at her she was prepared with a welcoming smile to-
He almost instantly looked away and Leah blinked. Oh. Okay?
Maybe he was still waking up? It was a bit dark in the VIP room, but with the brights on it was almost too bright, and most of them aimed at the single small stage in the middle of the room. The mystery man at least was awake enough to talk, though. That was good.
"Hexes and Ho's." She responded calmly, fiddling with the little charms that dangled off her phone case. She didn't ogle him when the blanket fell. She spent too much time getting ogled at to feel the need to do that to other people.
... Like, unless there was already a thing going on. She ogled all of her partners as often as possible.
"Right at the foot of your seat, Hon. Would you like me to hand them to you? I'm no medical professional, but you just got healed from a pretty nasty wound."
She still wasn't sure who this man was. He'd been too far away for her to peg him as a patron right off the bat, but close enough that him ending up in their access alley made her wonder.
She shifted a little, the idea that he might want some space to get dressed popping into her head. Leah stood and collected her heels, pausing before leaving to give him a soft, but critical look. "I'll give you a minute to get dressed. If you need any help I can send one of the boys in here to help you, if you'd prefer? I'm pretty sure Blaize would be able to come help." Leah tapped her bottom lip with one long, pointed nail. "I'll bring you a cold bottle of water too, alright? Be back in a sec!"
She made her exit to give him a moment, dropped her tall heels off in the back for some three-inch ones, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and spent exactly two minutes loitering around outside the VIP room door before re-entering.
"I'm back!" Hopefully, she'd given him enough time to get dressed. She hated to think she'd bust in on him mid-way through!
She stepped in through the tall doorway, paused there with the bottle of water in her hand, and offered a friendly smile.
What did the woman say? Hexes and…? “Oh…” he said softly. Rex considered himself a pretty devout Catholic, right down to a general agreement with anything that came from the Vatican. He was also a pretty married man, had been for decades. Still, he was aware of what that kind of name….and the woman’s lack of attire...suggested.
Heat flourished in his cheeks, and it had nothing to do with any heat.
“Uh, no thank you, I can manage,” he said, making sure to be extremely polite and non-judgemental. He almost collapsed with relief when she offered to step outside while he changed. “Appreciate it,” he said, still not looking at her.
When he heard her leave, Rex pulled himself off the extraordinarily comfortable couch and threw the blanket back on the seat. Sure enough, his clothes were where he was told and he wasted no time getting into them. He didn’t want to risk the woman returning when he was naked and honestly the thought of having exposed skin in a place like this was somewhat wigging him out. Even if the clothes had charring and still reeked of smoke.
When he was about to put his shirt on, that’s when he realized that something else had happened. Twisting around, he tried to touch the wound on his back. Nothing. It didn’t hurt to twist around, either, nor was there blood. The shirt still had it, of course, as did his jacket. But he himself was perfectly fine.
He was just finishing tucking his shirt into his jeans when the door opened and the woman announced her presence. And since she hadn’t changed clothes, Rex very carefully only looked at her face and ensured his gaze never dropped.
“Thanks again,” he said. “But...how long was I out? I thought...I could’ve sworn I had a major laceration on my back…” His clothes were still smokey, so couldn’t have been long. Right?
She plopped the cool bottle of water on the round side table between his loveseat bed, and the one she had been lounging. She didn't move to sit though.
"Oh, don't even mention it, Hon!" He inquired about the wound being gone, and how long he'd been out. She'd just looked at the time on her phone on the other side of the door. "Only about an hour, max? Heck, maybe even a bit less. I didn't really start keeping track until I'd gotten you in here and settled." She offered a half shrug and propped her hands upon her hips.
As for the wound...
"Well... I hope you don't mind but it looked pretty bad when I found you out in the alley, so I called a friend to come help." She gestured to the seat he had woken up, in case he wanted to sit again.
"A lot of people who get in scuffles around here don't often want to involve the authorities if they can help it." Another shrug. It was just part of the club life. A lot of the wealthier patrons they got didn't want their names hitting the headlines, and the ones that were less wealthy didn't relish the idea of a big hospital bill.
"I was pretty worried, too! Luckily that friend I know can patch people up right back to one hundred percent."
After a moment, she offered a hand in his direction. "I'm Leah, by the way. Please to meet you!" Now he was alive and not going to die, she snapped right back into her overtly friendly default.
"Say, do you happen to remember what happened to you? I'll need to tighten security around here if there's some mad slasher running around out there."
Leah hadn't noticed him cautiously avoiding looking at her anywhere but her face. She leaned down a little so that she could see him a bit better through all the mood lighting.
Was it weird waking up in a strip club? Not to her. She was comfortable in her own skin and with her own sexuality, and sadly, sometimes had a hard time remembering that not everyone was so blessed. The thrum of music from the other side of the walls didn't phase her, even though she knew each set by heart and know who out there was currently dancing based on what version of a song was playing.
Only an hour? Impossible. That was nowhere near the time needed to heal such a wound. Especially without leaving a mark. Well, there may’ve been a mark, but he wouldn’t be able to see it until he found a mirror.
Then the woman explained. Was that...some kind of faith healer she was talking about? That...made sense. Rex looked down at his hands. The faint burns he’d developed from his spell were also gone.
He wasn’t in a good mindset to begin stringing the dots together yet.
She introduced herself and only then did it sink in how tall she was. Rex resolutely established superb eye contact with her (to avoid staring anywhere else), glancing down only to ensure he met her hand with his own. “Rex,” he said, giving a firm handshake before releasing. “Much appreciated, you going out of your way for me….thanks,” He said stiffly and awkwardly. He was off his game and he wasn’t used to needing help. It was….difficult for him to acknowledge. Didn’t help that Leah’s attire was also making him quite uncomfortable.
As soon as she leaned down, Rex’s eyes immediately snapped away and he took a sudden interest in the stage and the lighting. “It was a man with a sword,” he said after a moment’s rehearsal. “I think you’re safe. He only wanted to give me a message.” Rex was putting on a bit of an act. Everything was fine. No problems here. No worries.
"Oh, don't worry about it! I'm not about to leave someone to bleed to death in my alley. I'm just glad you're okay."
He explained further as she retracted her hand and crossed her arms. "Guy with a sword? Huh." It wasn't unusual necessarily... she'd seen a few people here and there with swords. Like Rai, for example! "A message? What a horrible way to tell someone something! Are you in trouble?"
It was hard not to just feel like you needed to try and take care of everyone when you were at least a foot taller than most. This poor guy, Rex, had just been left to die out there. How rude!
"Do you have a phone? Would you like to call anyone? I'd feel horrible if I just sent you out there with some attempted murderer still lurking around."
A lightbulb went off above her as an idea struck, and quickly took root. "I know! I'll drive you home! Wherever home is, that is. Is that alright? I'll call one of my drivers to swing by."
She already had her phone out and was dialing someone.
Rex sat back on the couch and pulled his socks on, before grabbing for his boots. He was silent for several moments before exhaling slowly. “...No, I do not believe so,” he said, shaking his head with false confidence. He did not suspect Raijin would come after him, not when the agreement was met. However, a cloud of foreboding hung over Rex’s head because there was no guarantee the rest of the cult wouldn’t cause him trouble.
He glanced up briefly before resolutely focusing on lacing his boots. “You shouldn’t be in trouble either,” he said as a thought struck him. “The man said his piece. It is unlikely he will continue to pursue me.” Especially because he’d already had ample opportunities to do so. The fact that Rex was alive supported that theory.
Boots lace up, the firefighter pulled himself stiffly to his feet and ignored the flurry of feelings roiling up inside of him. “Ah, uh, yes I have a phone,” he said, even if it was turned off and he had nobody to call. His family was gone and his friends had abandoned him. No, that wasn’t right. He’d abandoned his friends, and none of his friends from the cult were ones he wanted to associate with.
He held up a hand for abatement. “Oh no, please, you don’t need to bother,” he said as Leah began tapping on her phone. The last thing he needed was for his neighbors to see him getting a ride from someone from….this establishment. A blush was starting to form but it vanished quickly. “I can manage. It’s not far.” Blatant lies. It was a five mile walk. He moved heavily toward the door. “Um, thank you again. You have a...nice place here.” And the blush came back in full force.