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.
Jamison whistled happily as he worked on the sink. He was rather pleased with his latest idea regarding how to make a livelihood. Having discovered that it was nearly impossible to apply for jobs, he reluctantly dove into starting his own business. Fortunately, he was pretty good at fixing things already so being a handyman had some appeal to him. The flier had also been born of a flash of brilliance. It read:
Professional Handyman 212-555-8258 Ask for Dave
That way, when customers called in, Paradox could un-truthfully answer “This is Dave.”
He gave the wrench one last good yank then navigated his head around the pipes and back to the freedom beyond the counter. “I just need to turn the water back on...” He started to explain to the girl standing there, waiting for his diagnosis. But he was interrupted by a giant stream of water shooting out of the pipes.
That shouldn't have happened, he analyzed coolly, Especially since I know that I turned the water off... But rushing water fountaining into the room wasn't something you could stand and argue or reason with.
Posted by Maxine Ralls on Aug 18, 2010 14:16:32 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
379
3
Jul 27, 2018 20:37:07 GMT -6
Calley
There was something about Dave that Maxine didn’t like. Something... like oil on water. Like eyes a little too blue, or hair a shade too dirty to be blonde. And underneath it all, he was just too... too...
“Aurum?”
Her mistake, apparently. She let the nice handyman into her apartment, with only minor staring.
In any case, the minnows were safely locked in their fish tank with a magnetized octoclip, the homicidal paper had been put out with this morning’s recycling, and all pens had settled into that complete stillness that only a cat show could bring. This reprieve from flight brought to you by Purina’s Gourmet Fancy Feast: for those people willing to spend more on their cat’s dinner than on their children’s.
Still, as the judges’ voices drifted snootily from the living room, their pseudo-British accents scratched and twined against something in her memory. Not that the man had any accent of which to speak, besides the usual East Coast schnoz-speak. Something about those blue eyes, though, made her think Brit. Did she even know any Brits? Seriously. Looking at this man bugged her, like a band aid dangling half-way off a knee. Like the memory of something vaguely obnoxious. If she could just...
By the time she felt the mesh of clips, it was too late. Octosaurus Rex was on the water main, a small horseshoe magnet dangling from one of its tentacles, and there wasn’t anything either of them could do about it.
Except flood her kitchen. Unlady-like words poured from her mouth as she danced out of the raging current.
“Do you know how to fix this?” The red head did not shrill. Future reporters never shrill.
He tried to refrain from cursing though the water kept pouring out and the mistress of the house let out a stream of swearing that he was quite impressed by. It generally didn't instill confidence in his fixing abilities if he started to swear when it did unexpected things. Fortunately for him, Jamison was used to pulling answers from a secret back pocket.
“Yes, of course I can fix it!” He announced proudly. Inside, his thoughts raced. Where could this have gone wrong? Even if the water was turned back on, how could this have happened? Did a pipe burst? That irked him. He really hated when things outsmarted him. He wondered if, had he been an actual licensed plumber would he know the answer already?
They were ankle deep in water now and the level was still rising. He tried to fight the tide to get back to the sink. “Do you have anything to plug this for now?” he shouted above the noise of the water. “Maybe a big towel?” If he could stop the mad rush, then he could try to see what was actually wrong.
He threw a glance back at the girl, trying to gauge her mood. If he ruined too much of her floor, she might decide to sue him.... not that she'd be able to find the right 'Dave' to sue, but still, it would mean that he wouldn't get paid for the day. And his stock of groceries was dwindling sadly. Not to mention that he probably needed to find a better place to live than the hotel in which he was currently residing. Paradox sighed and pushed his money troubles aside. He had a bigger, wetter problem to contend with at the moment.
Posted by Maxine Ralls on Jan 17, 2011 17:53:31 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
379
3
Jul 27, 2018 20:37:07 GMT -6
Calley
The flood waters were rising, the handyman was looking less cute by the minute, and all of Maxine’s dirty laundry was off down the hall, locked in a dollar-a-pop washer. The red head frantically unplugged her TV from the wall, shoved her laptop on top of a bookshelf, and raced out of sight down the hall.
Clatter! Clutter! Bother!
“Will these work?” She panted, desperately pushing her finds into the handyman’s hands.
A roll of duct tape, a pillow case, and a box of tissues, half-full.
