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.
Site adaptation by Sen, Lix, and Tempest. <3
The other side of silver is a secret word (Invite)
Posted by Martin Stein on Dec 31, 2010 6:50:46 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
She was taking it quite well considering she still held a gun in her hand. Pointed somewhere in his direction nonetheless. Headache. His head felt ready to burst. One hand discontinued the dusting to rub at his temple. Probably to no avail, but it felt good actually doing something. Heartache. I'm really sorry you had to see that, kid. I'm really sorry you were here today. That one could not be rubbed away. His voice was surprisingly calm though, considering that he was a small mess inside. That child should not have been in the room when he had done that, but considering the condition he was in, he had not wanted to take the chance of guessing how long unconsciousness would last. He nodded to the now limp something that was still leaving stains on the floor. “I do hope I did.” I do hope so. His mind said in unison. Coldly forming the notes his lips, his head halfway to weeping. There weren't many masks that killed. E did though. Distanced, detached his eyes, the truth shining through in every look. Killer. He had done this before. He would do it again. People who attack me do not live a happy life and have grandchildren that voice seemed to say. They simply don't his mind added. Even if there's a little mutie girl around. “And if you would please put that gun away now?” He was tired, though his breathing had slowed. As had his heartbeat. He was tired, but still pretty confident that the kid would not be able to hit him. On the first shot that was.
He walked, never allowing the girl to leave his sight. Immediate attention. Walked and pulled the chair up from the floor where it had fallen to a flying killer. Pulled it up from where sand mixed with blood. He had had to do that. The thing. The one thing. Survive. “Sit.” An invitation? A question. Some of both. None of them. Ibuprofen would be good right now. When the kid put that gun away.
>>“I do hope I did. And if you would please put that gun away now? Sit.”
"... dammit." One hand still holding the gun, Maya ran her fingers through her hair. The situation clearly sucked. Here she was in a room with a guy who just killed another guy who wanted to kill him, and she had a gun and she was still not sure she was getting out alive. Yeah. It sucked.
Maya sat.
"So, what happens now?" she asked him; she rested the gun on the table, but did not let it go. She looked at him, tilting her head curiously. "Wanna elaborate on the whole mutant issue again?"
Posted by Martin Stein on Dec 31, 2010 20:10:12 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
The kid sat down. So far so good. But she didn’t put the gun away. This meant no back-turning on her, which in turn meant no pain-meds for Martins really nasty headache. This in turn had the (probably unintentional) side-effect of making Martin severely grumpy. He had been intent on killing before. Now he still was that, his adrenal glands were quite insistent on that part. And as a little bit of cream topping: grumpy. Not a good combination. Never. Tasted bitter. The bad kind of bitter. Rotten.
“Look kid, don't make me try to put that gun away for you. I got a headache.”
Maybe not a smart course of action. Maybe not. At. All. But he wanted his pain medication. Now. He was casually closing in on Mirror. The kind of casual that a predatory animals approach had. "I'll give you one bit of info now though. I rarely tell outright lies." Now that was half-true. Outright lies were often easy to spot and therefore useless. He preferred more subtle approaches. Like making the kid think on what he said earlier. I can hurt you. Proof lies over there.
>>“Look kid, don't make me try to put that gun away for you. I got a headache. I'll give you one bit of info now though. I rarely tell outright lies."
"Is that supposed to make me feel more comfortable?" Maya arched an eyebrow "Mixing the truth with lies is far more dangerous, you gotta know that." she added with a smirk, before she pulled her hand back and folded her arms. She left the gun on the table.
"One bit of info from me: if I shoot you, I'm gonna be shooting you in the front." she added. Point of clarification, failing to mention she did not really know how to shoot a gun. She was better with knives. She had a switch blade in her pocket, as usual. He did not need to know that either. And Sam should really start training his students for real-life situations. With guns.
"Take some of your pills" she suggested, nodding towards the first aid kit "They don't really do much for the wounds, but they might work for the headache."
She was still watching him, with her arms folded over her chest.
Posted by Martin Stein on Jan 1, 2011 15:43:45 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
Kiddo was smart. Or so she thought. Well self-confidence was a good thing. It could be exploited. Like so much else. Sickening thoughts? There was a gun on the table. And a kid who was desperately trying to remain in control. Cocky as she was he could only guess what was going on behind that mask. Somewhere there had to be shock. Anger. Fear. The primordial concoction that was evoked by death. It was near here. Lying on the floor; reason. Reasons enough to forget about reason, abandon it and run screaming to the farthest corners of your mind. He was no good with children. Sadly. They were not as good as other people in putting a mask of rationale in front of that soup of beginnings and ends that was their instincts. It was on the surface, near the surface still. A lake with thin ice covering. He was sure something had broken today. Had it not? Uncertainty.
A smile for the kid, another two steps to the gun. A smile that was a compliment on her achievement. On her stability. Maturity. Not a smirk. A flash of those eyes gray-blue as they were untouched by masks. Predatory. Dangerous. Deranged? Amusement in a way. Bemused he was. And not. Lifeline he was walking. Wider than before, but still a very close thing around his neck. Uncomfortable. Strangulation. One had to like that feeling if one was to get older than a hundred he thought. Got to like it. There were many close calls. There always would be.
“As to your previous question pertaining to my pending actions: I will dispose of that...” He nodded again to the dead body on the floor. Took another step towards the gun, too. “after assessing the threat you pose to me.” He blinked. Took another step. “You could also say: We are going to have a talk. After that I am going to take that to a dump.” Step. And a swipe at that gun using all the speed he could muster. Headache or no, he would be in control of this situation.
>>“As to your previous question pertaining to my pending actions: I will dispose of that... after assessing the threat you pose to me. You could also say: We are going to have a talk. After that I am going to take that to a dump.”
Maya rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Mr. Bond, who the hell talks like that?! Just chill alrea..."
And then he made a move for the gun. Like hell.
All she needed was her hand on the table; the next moment the girl, and the gun, were inside the reflecting surface of the table, safe and sound for the moment unless he found a way to shatter the furniture.
"Come on, man, gimme a break!" she sounded clearly annoyed now "I ain't gonna shoot you. Unlike you I don't just go around killin' people, okay? I'm one of the good guys." she folded her arms once again, looking up at him from the table. "Now relax, take something for the headache, and then we're gonna talk. Take your time, I'm not going anywhere."
Posted by Martin Stein on Jan 3, 2011 6:05:32 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
“Ah well... it was worth a try.” He did not let his dissatisfaction show, masking it with dry humor instead. She was irate now. At least something. If she was not going to shoot him as she had said. And he was just not into the business of trusting people. They lied too much for that. He did, too. He did not understand them all that well either. Prime motivator: age was missing from the equation of his life. He had no reason to go plant trees. All he had were reasons to survive. Sometimes he had those at least.
So off to the med kit he went, pulling out another two of the white pills. Down they went his throat. Without water. Without scotch. He was not reserving things for himself. Also: There was another gun in the room. The automatic one that the killer had lost during his flight. Maybe... ah just talking would not be bad either. Injuring kids permanently was not the kind of business he was in. So after forcing down the two dusty bits, Martin, radiating all the calm of the world, sat down again at the bloodied table from which a girls face was probably watching him expectantly.
“One of the good guys, yes?” Sigh. Good. Bad. What did they matter? “And you want to talk.” He left the sentence standing in the air. Between them. An invitation. He looked a little white around the lips. And a little sooty in the face still.
>>“Ah well... it was worth a try. One of the good guys, yes? And you want to talk.”
"I'm gonna call you Echo if ya don't stop doing that" Maya frowned, looking up at him. he took the pills, but still looked worse than he should after a fist fight. "I think you should sit down."
She waited, moving around a little to see him better.
"So. All I know that you are mysterious, you are filthy rich, and you have assassins on your *ss." she summarized "So you are either mafia, or something else equally dangerous."
She paused.
"I saw you fight. I did." she looked him in the eye "You are a mutant like me."
it was a shot in the dark. Twilight, at best. But it was worth a shot.
Posted by Martin Stein on Jan 3, 2011 6:36:32 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
A moment of silence as he heard the child talk childish talk, make childish announcements and pout a little. Poor, poor thing. When she was done ranting he opened his mouth and with that bit of dignified something that was him right now answered.
“You are correct on three of six. That is a yes, no, yes, no, no and a yes for you.” He paused slightly. The Mafia would learn to fear him. Especially the Romanian branch under that little someone with the N-name. They would learn that they were children playing with some dangerous toys compared to people like him. Mafia. Pffff. Bad choice of words. He seemed slightly amused by something as he added, right in the face of her stare “Pretty good for a first time try.” Compliments. Of the chef. Who would like you to forget everything you saw. Right now. Sadly that was not part of the gift-packet. And he was so sorry that those pills had not been narcotics. Sad day.
“You are a student from Xaviers Sister School for Gifted Youngsters, commonly known as the Mansion, home of the X-Men, Helpers of the Police, Guardians of the Good-And-Righteous of Mutantkind.” He was sure he was right. Kid from the school. Well, better to focus on the X-Men than on the grounds. Where he had been. Working. For a while. Living, studying. Where else could one bratty kid come from and pronounce herself a Good Guy? Where else could he have seen her before? And he managed to state all that without much contempt in his voice. Without much. So what if he wasn’t exactly a friend of the goody-goody ones? That much should be obvious.
>>“You are correct on three of six. That is a yes, no, yes, no, no and a yes for you. Pretty good for a first time try.”
So, he was a mutant. And not mafia. That was good news. Both of it, really. Maya had no friggin' clue how to deal with the mafia. That was one more thing missing from Sam's curriculum.
>>“You are a student from Xaviers Sister School for Gifted Youngsters, commonly known as the Mansion, home of the X-Men, Helpers of the Police, Guardians of the Good-And-Righteous of Mutantkind.”
"Well, someone's gotta guard them" she smirked "We can't all just run around in expensive suits having the time of our lives..." he knew about the X-men so there was no use denying it. "I am one of the X-men, yes." Trainee. He definitely did not need to know that.
"So, what's your deal?" she asked; she glanced towards the dead assassin on the floor "You did something to him didn't you. Before I knocked him out, I mean."
That was obvious. And knowing what his mutation was would be a great advantage...
"Are ya one of those mutants-are-superior-and-they-should-rule-the-world kinda people?" she asked him "Or ya're just one of those my-mutation-makes-my-life-miserable types?"
When all was said and done, it always came down to those two. And the guardians.
Posted by Martin Stein on Jan 3, 2011 8:32:13 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
Of course the rant began. People need protection. We're so good for everyone. We should be hugging and spreading the love. Why nobody of the X-Men had Dreadlocks and why drugs were so uncommon there was a big puzzle to him. They reminded him more of Hippies sometimes then everything else. Pleasantly smile, Martin. You're pleased to be here and talk. And be lectured about the good good people of the world. They simply aren't. People are bad. Evil. Have you seen the monster, too? Apparently not. Also: Her an X-Men? The team had not included her on the last staff meeting he had attended at the Mansion. So probably. Not. Not a full one at least. Or just another memory lapse. Getting the book out now was out of the question though. Back to smiling pleasantly.
“What gave me away? The sand or the standing there?” He asked, voice even slightly curious, but mostly... bored. He thought some things did not need saying. The obvious things were just a nuisance. Needless to say that he waved slightly at the blood mixed dust that had fallen on the floor of the room. Tears of time. “And before you ask: No I will not tell you.” Another obvious one. He would not give away the limits. Mysterious man, remember kid? And I better preserve some of that aura.
“As for my morality: I am quite sure I could not rule the world if I tried.” Not that I have any interest in checking that bit out. But immortals are slightly bad at such things, don’t you think? We just forget that people need time to live sometimes. His hand tapped on the table. Multiple times. “and I do not think my mutation makes my life more miserable than for most of us.” Now that was a lie. A big one. But hey... he had only said that he did not lie most of the time. “You really need some more life experience before starting to put people into groups.” Booored. He stopped tapping and crossed his arms on his chest in slight imitation of her previous movement. Chew on this lady. (Lie!)
>>“What gave me away? The sand or the standing there? And before you ask: No I will not tell you.”
Maya frowned. Of course he was a mutant. Also, his special power was annoying people to hell. Or at least, his secondary mutation... Hm. That would be a useful power to have. Not to mention fun. Of course, one would need an actual sense of humor to pull that off...
>>“As for my morality: I am quite sure I could not rule the world if I tried. And I do not think my mutation makes my life more miserable than for most of us. You really need some more life experience before starting to put people into groups.”
"Fine" she huffed "Just tryin' to make conversation with the guy who cut me and then needed my help to get rid of an assassin. Never mind."
He really was trying hard to be mysterious. And he succeeded. For someone like the Trickster, that was more than annoying. She was curious now. And pissed. A girl would be allowed to know a thing or two about the guy who almost got her killed right? Common courtesy. Seriously.
Posted by Martin Stein on Jan 5, 2011 14:05:27 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
Oh now came rejection. Somehow he doubted he could compare to terminal diseases though. They were less attractive than him for sure. He was terminal sometimes, but most clearly less often and for more substantial reasons. Toxins... an interesting thought to entertain for later. When he was alone and wondering about what to do about this unfortunate man that was the killers accomplice in crime. Reason for crime most likely. Talking of crimes he began talking to the Mirror image again that still held its rather boyish girl-form.
“I think we should talk about you. And to whom you are going to talk about this.” He let his eyes and not his hands do the wandering around the room, pointing with cold glares. His hands had been folded in the lap in a position that could have satisfied a zen-master, his face frozen. Small smiling mouth doing nothing to convey amusement. Fake it looked, mask revealed. He payed no heed to it. And did not reveal anything more even by that. That face was interchangeable somehow. On every poster ad there was one like it. Dead and not. Un-death alive. Very much alive. Maybe not the knife, but everything else. The knife was still out there marking differential. He was too. His own marking stone, monumental. And watching. Luckily for him the placebo effect was taking care of the headache. How very kind of him to do so. It showed up at the most convenient times. Most convenient indeed. Now if young girl could have some consideration? Please? Could Acceptance come next? Could we skip the bargaining?
((Im referencing Ms Kübler-Ross in this post for those interested))
>>“I think we should talk about you. And to whom you are going to talk about this.”
"Fine" Maya agreed. Obviously, the guy wanted to know if his secrets were safe. Well, they were damn safe from her, because she did not know any. Not a name, not anything - he could move in ten minutes and never be found again. For all she knew, he could be the friggin' Doctor himself.
"My name is Maya, and I'm a mirrorwalker. I am also a student at Xavier's, and part of the X-team." she listed, looking up at him "I don't have a family, never knew my dad, Mom's m.i.a. The very first day I arrived in New York City I wandered into a mutant-hating cop's bathroom and had a gun pointed at me until I cleaned it up."
She paused.
"I still visit him sometimes. He makes me breakfast."
Posted by Martin Stein on Jan 29, 2011 11:40:11 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
“Thank you Maya the Mirrorwalker.” Nod descending. Frindly, conversational. Goodwife talking over tea and all the nice things in the world. (Aren't they nice, these springing blossoms?) It even came with cookies sometimes. Poisoned cookies. And of course I'm not a bad person. Be wary of the neighbors though. Their dog is very much un-mannered. “I would care to guess he also owns a poodle.” A check, balance. He had listened to the girl. Mutant hating cop as a person of reference. It was interesting to say the least. Peculiar. Relationships were like that.
One of the many reasons to avoid such trivial entanglement.
One of the many good reasons. Perfectly good. Cookies.
“I also think with your references you have more life experience than half of the team rolled into one.”
A sly smile. I know where you are coming from.
Yous that much. Carefully set words. Unobtrusive. One might have missed them, they were spoken so dimly. Darkly.