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.
Isabel couldn't quite help the slight brightening of her smile as the older man seated across from her slumped down in his chair that seemed to signify his resignation to her expressed wishes. At least he seemed to have some brains in that head of his. She always did like it when things went her way. In fact, she often strove for it, though thing's didn't always go as planned quite as often as she would have liked, especially when involved with a group of mutants that were nearly as stubborn and strong willed as she was. Humans tended to be easier to persuade, especially when their fragility fell into focus and they remembered that she was more than capable of exploiting that frailty. This gentleman seemed to have a good grasp on such a thing as well, though after his sudden attempt to leave in such a hurry, his awareness only became glaringly obvious instead of more well hidden as it previously had been. Of course, that's not to say she disapproved of his sudden showing of agitation. Aside from him trying to brush her off so easily, she was rather enjoying the way he squirmed when in such close proximity to her person. Almost as if playing a twisted game of cat and mouse, only the feline was still toying with the vermin, biding her time before she grew bored with her new toy and disposed of it.
At the request for a tour, Isabel's head tilted to the side slightly once more, regarding the man with another showing of curiosity, seeming to mull it over in her mind for a moment. She really didn't think there'd be much harm in showing the man through at least the most common rooms such as the Cafeteria, the Gym, the Library and a few others. Other rooms would be left alone, such as the War Room, the Cathedral and the Living Quarters. She'd given a few tours to prospective residents before. It wasn't hard, just a bit boring. Momentarily she considered leaving Mister Fairweather with Lisa for a more official tour, but that would mean cutting her own fun short. Besides, Lisa had already made it clear enough that Isabel was now, for the most part, in charge of this stranger. She continued to look at him thoughtfully for a moment more before fluidly rising to her feet once more. Without much more than an "I suppose it couldn't hurt," spoken more to herself than to the reporter, she simply turned and headed off toward one of the hallways attached to the Foyer, waving for the man to rise from his own seat and follow along beside her.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Isabel had been carefully measuring Roland from across the foyer. She seemed to feel pleasure, or whatever creatures like her felt in place of it, at the idea of his resignation to her.Roland was doubtful of any access to anywhere beyond the Sanctuary. He hoped the device near the computer would pull any info he might need. He still had some phones handy though, in case an opportunity presented itself.
When asking for a tour, she seemed to pass it off as a chore, as any brutal killer pretending to be a child would, a petulant response to a mundane task. She looked as if she might be discussing it to herself, looking over at the secretary behind the desk, hoping for a rescue of her own. The woman in question clearly shot her a look that telegraphed the fact that she was not moving from her desk. Reluctantly, Isabel rose and waved him in the general direction, still seemingly disinterested, yet interested enough to continue.
Roland rose and proceeded to the doors leaving the foyer, stopping briefly to allow Isabel to pass or walk on his side. No way was he going into unfamiliar territory to get shanked in the back. He liked to see it coming. "Ladies first." He smiled and tugged and straightened at his tie, wiping some beads of sweat from his forehead. He assumed the sweat was from the polyester suit he was wearing, but it made for a nice touch.
Isabel looked to the reporter once more for a brief moment as he commented that ladies were to proceed first, a small smirk twisting her lips upward as she looked away from him and back down the corridor as she proceeded, not moving quickly enough to pass him, but instead to keep pace beside him. 'Ladies first' was a good sentiment for a gentleman to express, but reporters were more often than not a little far from gentlemen. And while this particular man was rather proper and polite, she wouldn't readily pass off such a comment as being gentlemanly. She figured it was more out of fear of walking in front of her than anything else. Not that she could really blame him, but honestly, did he not trust her at all? Obviously he didn't know her as well as he assumed that he did. Isabel wasn't one to stab someone in the back. Or at least, she wasn't one to do so often. There were circumstances that she would make an exception, such as in a large crowd where it was just easier to hit where she could reach, rather than waiting to maneuver around the individual. But for the most part she tended to play with her victims while they were facing her. The spine was a nice target, but she preferred to reach something like the heart or the intestines, which were more fun to get at from the front. Besides, she found it amusing that some of them still tried to down her even as they were torn to pieces. And the looks on their faces were so priceless. She was willing to bet that this man's face would be just as interesting when contorted with something other than fear, such as pain or anger. At that thought she just couldn't help but toy with the notion of finding out exactly how interesting his expression could be and what she could do to cause it.
With a much more casual and somewhat disinterested outer appearance than what she was truly feeling, she meandered down the long corridor, occasionally smiling or waving at any of the residents that passed them on their way, much more sincerely hospitable to the mutant inhabitants of her home than she was pretending to be with the older man at her side. Currently she was heading in the direction of the Cafeteria and the Kitchen. The Gym, Rec Room and Pool weren't too far from that area. The Library was on the upper floor, which they could reach by either elevator or stairs. Though it could only be expected that Isabel would opt for the elevator, speculating that she'd quite enjoy sharing the close quarters with a man she seemed to make so very nervous. The lower levels of the building, where areas such as the Training Room were located, would be left alone. "Which area of the Sanctuary are you interested in seeing first, Mister Fairweather?" she asked, casting a sidelong glance at the reporter, drifting a little closer to him as they walked without appearing to even notice that she'd done so. She wouldn't mind keeping on the route she was already taking, or altering it depending on his answer. The rooms themselves were of little interest to her, since she could visit them any day of the week that she chose. She was much more interested in seeing just how uncomfortable she could make her new acquaintance before he had another meltdown. This was just too much fun.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
The two of them walked down the corridor. Roland noticed the dormitory type rooms and decided this was more front. It probably all was on this level. He needed to get down deeper. The building wasn't tall enough to have higher administrative floors, so it only left one place to dig. Down. He saw the various faces greet Isabel and then look at him in varying degrees of interest and disgust. He looked at them each clearly, so he might remember an unfriendly face outside these walls. Isabel seemed distracted, carrying on the chore that she didn't seem to enjoy much.
"Which area of the Sanctuary are you interested in seeing first, Mister Fairweather?" He looked in various directions, spying the elevator. He'd try to stretch her boredom even farther so she would actually want to get in the elevator. " Well, all of it seems pretty normal. Perhaps you could show me each room and explain it to me so I can make notes?" Sounded ultra dull even to him, so she would definitely cringe at the tasks. He pulled his pen and notepad out, ready to make ridiculous scribblings.
Isabel's optimism quickly took a nose dive at the reporter's answer to her question. He wanted to see every room and provide an explanation for each of them? Every room? Apparently he was serious, as he pulled out that ridiculous little notepad once more and made himself ready to take notes as they went. All she could do was stop and look at him incredulously for the moment. She had not planned to show him all that many rooms in the first place, but even just having to walk through and make up an explanation for each of those did not appeal to her in the least. That was Lisa's job, for the most part. She was in charge of giving the tours and explaining everything to everyone in her friendly, sickly sweet manner. Isabel was not in any way like Lisa. She did not enjoy dragging people around the Sanctuary and pretending to be excited about doing so and making everything up as she went along. The prospect of having to do this with a reporter of all people was not appealing in the least, and was quickly outweighing her interest in seeing how long the man could go without having another panic attack. Silently she wished Lisa had not been so absorbed in her current work and had taken over for her when the man had first moved to leave the building. She wished she'd just let him leave. It was like it was his turn to make her miserable, which she did not like or appreciate one little bit.
Turning from the man to look down the corridor they'd been heading down, she thought on the situation for only a brief moment. "I'm sorry, Mist Fairweather, but a tour as thorough as that is reserved for prospective residents only," she lied, casting another sidelong glance at the human irritation. Even those who were thinking of moving into the Sanctuary were not shown all the rooms, though they were perhaps allowed a little more leniency in the tours than she had planned to give this man. And even then any time Isabel was the one to show them around, she'd always made everything short, sweet, and to the point. She did not enjoy dragging things like that out as Lisa appeared to. She was also suddenly no longer enjoying the reporter's company so very much and she was almost eager to be rid of him in one way or another. "I can show you a few of the common rooms, like the Cafeteria, or the Rec Room, but that's about all I can allow," she offered, almost hoping he'd be discouraged enough to turn her down. She didn't doubt he'd be suddenly difficult to get rid of, but she had her ways of getting what she wanted.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Roland's plan was a hit with Isabel apparently , judging by the awash look of shock at his suggestion to record the droll details of every room. He wondered what was going on in that twisted mind behind the generally expressionless demeanor that Isabel wore so frequently. He stifled a grin at her shock, wondering if she ever expressed any genuine emotion or if there were little clockwork gears running inside of her, running her along in her measured formalities.
She looked down the corridor for a moment, again looking like a child who was thinking of how to shirk a chore."I'm sorry, Mister Fairweather, but a tour as thorough as that is reserved for prospective residents only." It seemed to him as if she was now tired of the little game and was ready to go play elsewhere. Having left one device on the premises and mulling over how detailed anything would be in the rest of the front, he put his little frown on. Mutants were so fickle, not nearly as easily put off as humans. "I can show you a few of the common rooms, like the Cafeteria, or the Rec Room, but that's about all I can allow." Yes, it certainly did appear his tour was over. At least this one.
" I see. Well, I suppose I have taken enough of your time up. Perhaps in the future I will call ahead to see if I can have a more gracious tour of the facilities. If you would be so kind as to lead me out, I'll take up no more of your precious time." Just a few verbal jabs. Perhaps out of spite or general meanness. Either way, he was tiring of her antics as much as she was tiring of his. He turned his back to her and waited to be let out.
Isabel nearly bristled at the reporter's sudden disinterest in the tour he'd requested. It wasn't so much that she was upset he'd decided to put it of, it was more the fact that he was attempting to dismiss her once more in such a sudden manner. Gracious tours and precious time, was it? Fine. She didn't want to play with the worm anyways. She could always ask Lisa not to let the man back into the building again. She always had been good about keeping out the trash. You could tell by how spotlessly clean her desk and most of the Sanctuary was. However, it couldn't remain clean all the time, now could it? Messes happen. And who could blame her if she spilled something every now and again? If someone found it quickly enough, the crimson color might not even stain the marble. And it was just too tempting to make that mess. Especially when the arrogant man turned his back to her. He was dismissing her again, but he still had the gall to ask her for an escort to the door. "You know very well where the door is," she spat back, a hint of harshness entering her tone, though she did her best to keep her expression from being corrupted by the rising anger she felt. They had not gone that far down the corridor. A few steps back the way they had come and the front doors would be right back in view. She didn't plan on letting him out of her sight before he at least got close enough to Lisa for her to monitor him as he made his own way to the door. "You're not a child, despite acting like one. You can find your own way," she concluded, crossing her arms and leaning her weight on one leg. The fingertips of one hand brushed against her palm, feeling the slight point that lay just beneath the surface. It was tempting, but she'd give the man a chance to show he had some sense to him.
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
His smile was devious and genuine. Her mask had come off, so why not join the fun? This was clearly the wrong place for him to be. Lunatics painted to look like the orderlies. He let his American accent drop for fun as he started walking away from her. " I do indeed, Isabel. " He didn't look back at her as he walked into the foyer. The receptionist's usual look of glee was gone now. The phone he had planted returned to his belt. There was nothing of use here in this asylum, this sanctuary for crazies.
He opened the golden door and turned back around for a brief moment. Isabel's look was classical confusion, even though it looked no different than any other face she made. Roland took his fake glasses off and put them in his pocket and spoke again in his native accent. He winked at Isabel and said "See you later, Miss Duskmoor."