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.
Posted by aaronhartley on Jun 5, 2011 1:48:54 GMT -6
Guest
Just another flight... Aaron attempted to convince himself, as he mounted what looked to be an endless set of stairs. The box in his hands contained various knick nacks that he'd accumulated in his time living in the real world. It, like the so many others Aaron had already lugged up the stairs, grew impossibly heavy so close to the end of his journey to his new apartment.
An uninformed party might be wondering why this labor was necessary. Hell, an informed party might be wondering just the same thing. This labor was necessary because of the circumstances of the prior weeks and the new found tendency for things to go wrong around Aaron. Completely wrong.
It had all started on a Tuesday. It was a normal Tuesday, one might even call it unremarkable. This Tuesday, however, would inevitably spark a series of events that would lead to Aaron being evicted from his apartment and arrested for disorderly conduct and disturbing the peace. All of this would inevitably lead to the loss of his contracts with the Department of Defense and the current predicament in which Aaron found himself, teetering on a precipice and a long tumble down a harsh and unforgiving staircase.
And all of this, every last scrap of this ridiculous debacle, was caused by a single golf ball and one lousy broken windshield and one rather unforgiving landlord who had had just enough.
Aaron's old place had been just about perfect: it was unassuming, quiet, for the most part clean and anonymous enough to avoid attention. Aside from the random mishaps that would occur (a broken pipe in the ceiling that may or may not have had something to due with projectiles being shot through the ceiling and other various Aaron-related maladies that had happend) Aaron had managed to pass himself off as a normal computer programmer who stayed in most nights, caused no trouble and just made due with every day life.
That was until the neighbor down the hall took up an affinity for something he called 'Hallway Golf'. The kooky old man, one morning, undoubtedly under the cover of darkness, had set up a miniature automated return putting green outside his door, stretching most of the way to Aaron's as well. Now, had Jack Nicholson or Tiger Woods been playing 'Hallway Golf', there would not have been a problem. Even Vijay Singh wouldn't have been too much of a problem, but crazy old Chaz Reynolds from down the hall was quite possibly the worst golfer alive, a true menace with a putter.
This left the hallway outside of Aaron's apartment a veritable minefield of golf balls, dangerous objects upon which to tread when one is unsuspecting. Dangerous especially to those around one whose anger caused projectiles to rapidly accelerate and hypothetically explode every now and then. That was one by which Aaron was still a bit puzzled. How exactly does that happen?
Anyhow, one morning in particular, after nearly the fortieth time Aaron had asked Reynolds to putt in the opposite direction, and nearly the fiftieth time Aaron stepped on a golf ball, his temper got the best of him. With a disdainful kick to the ball that had just twisted his ankle and brought forth some words usually best reserved for privacy, Aaron sent the golf ball sailing through his open door, through his closed window and into the busy street below. That was the first of his problems. The second problem soon became evident with the squealing sound of tires and a loud, semi-metallic crunching noise. That couldn't be good.
Aaron rushed down the stairs and out the front of his apartment building to find his landlord's car with a completely shattered windshield, golf ball still imbedded in the safety class doing its best impression of an accordion against the rear end of an NYPD squad car.
The rest, as they say, was history and Aaron ended up doing 20 hours in the county lock up for an incident in which he was barely involved. Wonderful. It was only later that day that he found out that while in lock up, he missed a crucial meeting with a client at the DoD, causing his employment to come to an end. That unfortunate series of events brought Aaron to the present day, evicted and unwelcome in his old building and settling into a new place he could barely afford at the moment.
In order to keep the lights on, Aaron had signed on as a tech support specialist at a corporate electronics store, a fitting end to the degrading series of events. The pay was atrocious and the issues were mind numbing, but it was a necessary evil for the time being. Plus, the job was easy and Aaron could practically do it with his eyes closed.
Topping the last stair, Aaron trudged to his open door and crossed the threshold, glad to be relieved of the burden represented by the box he was carrying. He flopped down in a recently relocated chair and let out a long, drawn out sigh. Moving sucked.
Posted by joejoe1990 on Jun 5, 2011 23:19:04 GMT -6
Guest
Joe had been in New York for about six months and still felt very much alone, which, to say the least, sucked.
Today though wasn’t too bad, he was off earlier than usual, and one of his neighbors had ordered. This meant that Joe got to deliver this pizza, go back down stairs, then drink beer and play Fallout. Yup, one more day in his exciting New York life. Maybe I need a cat… Joe thought as he walked up the stairs towards the customers door.
Joe checked his uniform at the top of the stairs. He was wearing a pair of threadbare jeans, and if you looked carefully you might notice a few stains on the cuffs. He had black combat boots, and a simple black button up shirt with the company logo on one side, and a name tag that read, “The Joe”, with “The” written in with a sharpie.
The customer’s door was standing open, and Joe saw an apartment that was a disaster, obviously the owner was still moving in. Joe knocked on the door jam and spoke up a little, “Hey, pizza is here.”
Posted by aaronhartley on Jun 5, 2011 23:46:05 GMT -6
Guest
Aaron had taken it upon himself to get an early start at unpacking. In fact, he'd unpacked the most important box that he'd moved over from his old apartment. The box had 'fragile' scrawled on two of the faces and still sat on the counter, flaps open to the sky revealing the precious contents that it contained: alcohol.
You see, it had been an extremely bad day
week
month for Aaron and since he was moving into a new apartment, it seemed like just as good of a time as any to break out some drinks and try to relax. He didn't even bother to shut the door before he'd started, tv on and set to one of those random paranormal investigation shows. Some crazy guy was on the screen currently, talking about how he could speak to spirits. Whatever.
Aaron was soon roused from the show by a knock from the direction of the door. and the call "Hey, pizza is here." At that moment (and in that state) it was as if the heavens had opened and sent a messenger specifically to find Aaron to deliver the hot, melty cheese goodness that could only be considered divine. Aaron stood up, stumbling a bit and approached the door.
"Hey man! How's it going?!" Aaron said, a little over zealously. He leaned on the counter next to the door and pulled out his wallet. He pulled out... a couple of bills, probably much too large for the purchase of the pizza and walked over towards the door. Pizza guys worked hard too. And some people didn't even tip! For shame.
He stopped short of the door and examined the messenger from.. That one pizza place he'd called earlier. What was the name again? Aaron mused momentarily before deciding it really didn't matter. The driver's name tag clearly stated that his name was Joe and upon a second glance, the word "The" was written in black sharpie on the tag. That was funny.
"How much do I owe The Joe for the pizza?" He asked, chuckling a bit. "See what I did there? Owe? The Joe?" Aaron laughed, his joke very amusing in his current disposition. On a normal day, Aaron probably would have thought that was funny, but for some reason tonight, he said it out loud. Man, it was a weird night.
Posted by joejoe1990 on Jun 6, 2011 2:21:44 GMT -6
Guest
Joe grinned as he stood leaned up against the door jam, observing the other man. The delivery ticket said the name was Aaron, and Joe guessed Aaron to be slightly older (Your birthday says 86, which would make you 24, but your age says 23) and judging by the paleness, build, and type of furniture, Joe was guessing that Aaron was a techy. This was good for Joe, because he ran a side business fixing and selling Xboxes, getting a new connection could mean potential new customers.
"How much do I owe The Joe for the pizza? See what I did there? Owe? The Joe?"
Joe loved it when a customer called him The Joe, it was just fantastic. This customer had the potential to make his evening less boring, and it looked like he had no shortage of alcohol. Joe also observed a lack other people in the room, and the fact that it seems to be hard A, not just a couple beers.
As Joe un-Velcroed the pizza bag and pulled out the order he grinned and replied. “On this fantastic evening you owe, The Joe, $17.84” Joe said with a grin as he butchered to the pronunciation of “Four” to sort of rhyme. Usually, this would be terribly lame, but to the drunken gentlemen, Joe assumed it would lead into another large fit of laughter.
As Joe handed the pizza to his customer he attempted conversation. “So tell me, what is the occasion tonight?” Joe thought for a moment, and then added in, “And where are your drinking buddies?” If he was correct, and Aaron was indeed drinking hard alcohol alone, then Joe was significantly less likely to be playing Fallout tonight.
Yes, if all went well, Joe would drink free booze tonight, which included two of Joe’s favorite things. Free, and Booze.
(I felt that this post is horribly short, but without completely "Building" your apartment I didn't have much to use as filler. If we were in a random bar I could add and shape things. I dont want to start constructing a picture of the setting that your char may or may not spend a LOT of time in differently than you have envisioned it)
Posted by aaronhartley on Jun 9, 2011 0:52:53 GMT -6
Guest
Aaron, far to inebriated to not find the joke funny, busted out laughing upon the pizza guy's pronunciation of the word four. "That's pretty good!" Aaron said between laughs. This guy seemed to be alright in Aaron's book, which wasn't a bad thing at all.
"The occasion is that it's my first night in this new apartment..." Aaron began, gesturing around the cozy apartment, money still in hand. Directly to the left, inside the door, there was a small, kitchenette-like kitchen that ended on the far wall with a pantry. Directly next to the pantry, on the left, stood Aaron's fridge, then the kitchen sink. At the end of the line, there was a breakfast bar type construct. On the right, from the pantry, stood a set of cabinets followed by a stove and microwave and counter space for food preparation. A small distance from the door on the right resided Aaron's table.
Across from the breakfast bar was the living room, equipped with Aaron's flat screen and his gaming consoles and a black faux-leather sofa sofa facing the television, back to the breakfast bar. Further off to the right was the room in which Aaron was going to set up his computer and other tools of the trade, his office, if you will and the apartment's half bathroom. Aaron's bedroom was to the left of the living room, the door closed at this moment, and in his bedroom resided the full bathroom that the apartment boasted.
"And the drinking buddies called in sick." he said, laughing a bit. He then proceeded to hand the driver... well, later he'd learn it was a fifty, but at the time he thought it was a twenty. "Keep the change... That was fast!" he said in a drunken bliss. He then looked at the open box standing on the counter "Care for a drink?" Aaron asked, being polite. Where he came from, if you had guests in the house and didn't offer them all the comforts you'd expect yourself, then you were just being plain rude. And if Aaron was anything, he wasn't rude. Just drunk.
Posted by joejoe1990 on Jun 9, 2011 20:36:32 GMT -6
Guest
This apartment was much roomier than Joes apartment on the ground floor, and Aaron had filled it with no shortage of nice equipment.
"Well neighbor, welcome to the building!" Joe said as he looked at the fifty in his hand. This hurt his soul a little bit, but he couldn’t very well accept a mistaken $30 tip AND drink the man’s alcohol. "Friend, that’s a $31.16 tip, sure you didn’t want some change?" The young man grinned and handed the customer his pizza. "You’re my last customer of the night, so I would love to enjoy a drink with a neighbor, what’s on the drink menu?"
Joe was most interested in the amount of technology in the apartment, and a rather impressive looking computer. The main difference between Aaron's technology and Joe's was that in Joe's apartment there was a lot of hardware modifications, dissembled pieces of computer and Xbox that were being wired together to do thing they never were intended to, including a homemade "Kinect" that had been constructed out of three webcams and a microphone that worked about 70% as well as the real one, for about 25% the cost. Joe's apartment also featured a motorcycle in his living room.
Aaron's tech all seemed to assembled and pretty, mostly higher end stuff, suggesting to Joe either a tech enthusiast, or a software guy. Joes bet was software guy.
Very drunk software guy.
Joe stepped in and sat down on the surprisingly comfortable sofa, How is it that my last delivery of the night always seems to be the best?