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.
Posted by Martin Stein on Oct 7, 2009 6:41:56 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
As he had changed into a lower stance that would both allow him to attack or flee with ease, his eyes wandered around the scenery, people remaining standing on the sidewalks, dumbfounded by what they saw. People with fear in their eyes. People who laughed at the mothers obviously futile advance. At her stupid bravery. Suicide. And when his eyes locked with hers he saw something, that pierced him deep inside. They were eyes full of hard determination. A mothers rightful rage. And she was crying. Another mirrored mask. It was a sudden meltdown. Ice: gone. Welcome slap in the face. Burning cheeks. Had he really just considered loading another human life unto his conscience? What was he doing? The teenagers body changed again, to reveal hypnotic pattern changes, flashing baubles of color under the skin in sickening tones, colors of death and decay, colors of life. How far have I come again, that I might allow for this to happen? How far must I be stressed out to allow even so much to happen? His masks were switched. This was one of the truths he carried, the truth of age if you so will. He had seen so many die. He would still see many die in his lifetime. There was nothing to be done about it. So why do anything at all. It was the same question- the very same question- that popped up every time the eternal had faced death. Why not just remove yourself from this completely. Remove yourself physically, mentally. Until he had done so. And found the cold. It was comforting. So warm. So far away from the world. And today Ice was melting. Pole caps dieing. Species were getting extinct in his head. Species of logic. He would not allow for it here. Not in this day and age. Not because this young girls mother had, in all her human faultiness, developed an almost suicidal instinct for picking enemies that were beyond her. Not because he was traveling with someone- something by his side that was - and it was quite interesting to see the differences in it - not quite like him. Where he turned off his emotions, switched the masks, if need be, she had none at all it seemed. She had been completely truthful with him all the time. Something he never imagined anyone in her situation to do. No masks to hide herself from the world. Her true being. How could she ever look into a mirror? Sometimes masks revealed a truth. And truths hurt. This truth was: His logic was flawed. It would remain eternally.
He had the faint inkling that she, the killer at his side, would do exactly as she had said. Hurt the woman. Kill the woman if she wouldn't discontinue her protests. Kill the girl. Kill everyone if she had to. If they became a nuisance to her. If she wanted to feel. Felt like it. Most of him was logic. Logic disagreed with killing sometimes. And today of all days he decided he disagreed with logic on this. So therefore he wasn't logic, yes? He was alive. Living. Thinking thoughts in circles. Passive. Standing there while the mother advanced on them in quick steps. There was just no time to think any more. Either he would have to act now or suffer the consequences of not having acted at all. Curse time! Curse this body. Whenever he needed it, there was nothing there. Just now when he needed it, his one power, it failed him. It was so completely absent, his body, his once so clear mind, all gone. Ironic. So instead of saying something -it was far too late for this anyways, the boy dropped down on one knee and swiped for the cats legs. The broken ones. Logic dictated, that a hit there would hurt. He agreed with logic on that matter. Thats why he had entrusted himself to it initially.
As he dropped down, his eyes were fixed on the mother, glued to her eyes like a magnet attracted by the other. His reptile eyes. His old eyes so young. His broken soul. His masks were showing. And as soon as he touched the ground with his knee, his lips parted to reveal a forked tounge. He breathed in. And he was wondering for one final time. Is this really what I want to do? Just a sentence being pronounced. “Run for your life. Run.” He was honest. For the time being.
Posted by vampyremage on Oct 18, 2009 12:54:29 GMT -6
Guest
As Meld prepared to act the boy who was not a boy kicked at her leg. Had she been herself, had she been in complete control her her body she would have been able to stop it. She was trained for such things, after all, but she was not herself and she still had problems controlling this particular body. And thus the kick to her injured leg strick solidly and she went down to the ground, letting out a grunt of pain. Pain that, while significant, didn't hurt as much as she knew it should have. Curious that, though now was not the time for such considerings.
Meld should have felt anger, knew that she should have felt it. Perhaps it was because she was trapped in this foreign body and its foreign feelings and foreign pain and perhaps its because she really didn't want to have to hurt the mother or the child and her companion had given her an excuse not to. Regardless, when he demanded that they run Meld did not try to make her way to her feet, did not try to pursue them. Secretly, she was glad that they were being given the opportunity to escape. Secretly she was glad that she wasn't going to have to kill them. She only hoped they were smart enough to follow the demand and see it for the life saving offer that it truly was.
From her position on the ground, while trying to ignore the horrible pain in her leg, Meld watched, unsure of what they would do. She watched the expression on the mother's face change from one of murderous determination, to unsuratey and finally fear. The words of the changable reptile boy had finally gotten trhough to her and the mother, hand of the child in her own hand, turned and fled. Meld wanted to let out a sigh of relief, wanted, somehow, for the other with her to know that she had never wanted to hurt those two. They were innocents, after all, no matter how misguided. But she knew she couldn't for, while the mother and her child had seen the wisdom of his words, many others in the crowd had not.
A mob began to gather and, with the enhanced hearing that Meld was currently in possesion of, she came to realize that the crowd was not going to simply dissipate and leave. First the crowd had seen mutants, hatred enough for many. But then they had seen weakness, seen that she and the other were not in perfect harmony and that she was injured. Despite the saving of the mother and her progeny, his action was, perhaps, not among the smartest. Surely he could see that now?
Painfully, Meld got to her feet and faced the crowd. There were so many of them, so much danger there. In her own bod, perhaps, she would have faced them but even then, there were a lot of enemies out there, untrained through most of them were sure to be. But in this body? In this body she knew she stood no chance, even with an ally at her side. She looked towards Martin, met his eyes, tried to convey her worries. She was not ready to die and espeically not at the hands of a mob of angry humans.
Posted by Martin Stein on Oct 23, 2009 3:41:23 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
When he hit the cat, the young boy as glad to have made some difference in this world. For once maybe. Then she hit the ground, the woman started running. Yes. Run. His thoughts were focused on making her steps faster, so much faster, until nothing except both mutants remained in a crowd. And the cat had not gotten to her feet again, yet. The young boy started turning irritatedly around, moving ion circles on his feet, looking at people in suits and track shorts, with boots and sneakers. Wherever his eyes went, a shudder followed in the group of people, but it became smaller with every turn. And his back tingled more and more with a sense of imminent danger. He faced people who had spent their life and health in manual labor. Faced ones that never worked. And many other ones beside. Every last eye of a big amount of people was set on the two foreigners in their midst. Every last smile being more false then his own. He saw in a distorting mirror. And what he saw was not to his liking.
They were on their feet, ruffling, shuffling, dancing around the pair in a way that was... predatory. The crowd had finally become, had succumbed to its greatest strength perhaps, a mindless beast that was now prowling two pieces of prey, milling around them, intending to crush them. And with them every last memory of what had been done tonight. They had seen mutants turn on their own. And now they were turning on the weak ones first. Child or not, now he would have to fight for his life. In some way that saved it in best of all circumstances. Where first had come sight, sound now was added to the mix of strange sensual experiences. A low grumble, a mumble at first against the other city sounds first manifested somewhere inside the crowd. And then it spread. It was like a wave running over all those encompassed within its heavy human grasp. “Mutants out” The out had a very final sound to it. Meld would be able to see a thin line of a smile appearing on the boys face. Bittersweet memories indeed.
The eyes of the boy scanned the crowd, searching for reason behind many souls windows, but -much to his concern- he found none. There was nothing left of sentience on all of them it seemed, nothing left of humanity. As their chanting grew in volume his eyes finally locked with the cat he had put on the ground so causally. And she looked worried. Her leg was broken. She could not run fast enough to get away from here. Her body was new, so she would not be able to fight enough to get out of here. So it was left to the boy to find a way out of the mess. He thought at least. He looked at her in a way that very much said 'I'm sorry' And then he probably made the dumbest statement in his life. “Don't you worry, Ill loose them soon enough.” It was coupled with a reassuring smile. And then he jumped for the head of the nearest person in the crowd. The jump had the elegance of training to it.