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.
Vicente was too dumbstruck for words. One second he was screaming at Reaper because she was being a nutcase and the next he was leaning down in a passionate kiss with her. He felt the smaller woman as she angrily peeled his shirt off and began to shove him back into her bedroom. The electricity that was coming off of her skin sparked his and he found himself unable to really think straight or decipher up from down. Their blood was still pumping from the events of the night so that only added to the flush of red that appeared on their skins.
Hands pawed at clothing, lips meet and be strong embraces were shared as a light switch was flicked off…
Darkness encroached around the sleeping forms twisted in sheets. The air was heavy, as if weighed down by the night that latched onto it from the windows that lined the room’s walls. Nothing within could be seen, only the sounds of deep sleeping was actually the only proof that there was any life to be had in the room. But this silence and peace, as compared to the events of earlier that evening, was soon to be broken as well.
An intake of breath was followed by the shifting of blankets. The bed gently squeaked in protest as one of those sleeping bodies awoke and moved into a sitting position. Another shift and the thin, curved body of Reaper climbed out of bed, without casting a glance back to the sleeping form that snored softly at her side. Once she was standing, her good eye surveyed the room and took stock that the darkness was indeed beginning to lighten. The morning was finally arriving.
Reaper smirked as she watched Vicente sleep, the blankets only half covering his muscular and bare chest. She stretched long and hard as she crept out into the living room.
Her mind attempted to wrap around everything that had happened that night: the fighting, the near deaths, all of it seemed pale in compatison to what had just occurred between herself and Vicente. But this territory was so unknown to Reaper that she was not eractly sure how to proceed.
She was no novice when it came to seduction but such things were only done to get close to targets. This incident with Vicente was vastly different.
What could she do?
She yawned and strolled into the kitchen. She needed a drink.
Reaper now dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, sauntered over to her telephone, dangling a bottle of beer in her hand. Quietly she snatched it up and returned the rest of her apartment to silence.
She said nothing as she lifted the receiver to her ear.
A voice on the other end of the line spoke and she said nothing still…
It was the scream of the telephone that began to awaken Vicente. His eyes winced as he tried to awaken but the dull light of the morning proved to be far harsher than he would have liked. So with eyes still closed, Vicente sat up with a sigh and a groggy groan. His mind had been filled with fevered dreams yet despite the vividness sleep still managed to find him and his slept in the warmth and comfort of another’s arms.
“Reaper?” he muttered to himself.
He finally opened his eyes and turned to her side of the bed. All he found was an empty spot of twisted blankets. He placed his hand on the sheets and felt that they had begun to cool. He wondered briefly where she had gone but decided it was best not to call out.
He was still in shock over what had occurred between them. One second she was yelling at him angrily and the next they found themselves in the bedroom. How was he supposed to make sense of where this would leave them in the morning? But he had to admit that despite the danger and pain from their kill, his evening with Reaper seemed to be something that they both had needed. After all, the life of an assassin was a lonely one, and evening killers can find comfort in the arms of another.
He sighed as he turned in bed. He proceeded to get up and see what the rest of the day was going to bring…
Standing in the bedroom in the only pants he had in his possession, Vicente turned and headed for the living room. It was probably better that they just got this awkwardness over right off the bat. After all, he just slept with a fellow killer, a woman he admired and who possessed more skuill than him and who was used to the solitary life. He didn’t know what last night was, but he didn’;t want her to think anything ill of it. Better to simply get the talk over with so they could continue on with their jobs. Thuis far, it was seemed like the absolute best plan.
“Reaper?” he asked quietly.
Once in the living room he marveled at the dead silence that was situated there. It seemed to him almost like a mausoleum or a tomb. There were absolutely no signs of life. Another step inside and he casually slipped his hands inside of his pockets, trying to figure out what to do next. He didn’t want to appear like some love-struck puppy that needed to be by her side at every moment.
Still though, it was as if there was no sign of her. That fact alone was beginning to make him suspicious. He crept forward and eyed the dark corners. Another of Reaper’s tests?
Vicente ducked down as several more shots were plugged into the wall he was hiding behind. He was lucky that it was built pretty sturdy because none of the bullets managed to puncture through. But he knew that he could not stay here forever. Whoever it was that was firing at him was either going to wait him out or come after him. In the mean time, he needed some sort of plan. First and foremost was to get to a weapon. Reaper must have had some stored around here but hell if he knew where they were. A good assassin knows how to hide weapons.
But as he looked into the living room, he spied his belt that had sheaths for several knives. Most of them were gone, but there was at least one left. That was not going to do much against a gun, but it was all he had at the moment. At least until he could identify who it was that was trying to kill them.
He eyed the belt, eyed the gap that he had to run across. If that person was a good shot then he would definitely be dead.
He needed a diversion.
He turned and eyed the bedroom. Getting an idea, he crept in and managed to silently pull the white sheet off the bed, a pillow, and a string of rope that was used to tie open the curtains. He then stuffed the pillow inside of the sheet, tied it down so that it looked almost like a ghost and returned to the opening. It would buy him seconds, at most.
The gun was trained towards the opening but there was no sign of the massive assassin. The gun was held tight as the area was scanned. There was no way that the man was just going to wait there by the door. No, he was obviously planning something, but what? What could he possibly do in this situation other than wait there to die or leap out and make a run for it?
The options were too numerous but the trained gun did not falter a second. All it needed was one glimpse of the man so that it’s master could squeeze its trigger and send a bullet flying into his skull.
His death was all it was after. Indiscriminate and justified…
FLUTTER!!
A startled movement and suddenly the gun spat more bullets at the speed white object that had flown by its path!
Vicente had thrown the white wrapped pillow. He knew that it was not the best distraction but it was the best option he had at the moment. Not only would it pull the gunman’s attention away but the large white sheet should provide enough momentary cover for him to get to his blade.
And he was right.
The second he flung the pillow and sheet across the gap, the gun went off. He smirked. This had to be some sort of novice. No experienced person would have fallen for something like that. But taking the opportunity, he ran for his sheathed blade. He crouched low and ran fast. There was a gasp from the kitchen and Vicente hurled himself forward, grabbing the coffee table and tipping it onto its side as he fell behind it.
KA-BLAM! KA-BLAM!! KA-BLAM!!![/b]
The bullets drilled through the thin wood of the table but it hid him well enough that he could grab his last blade and scurry behind the sofa. Bullets drilled into carpet from where he had been. And he paused to catch his breath. This was so not the thing he needed first thing in the morning.
The master of the gun edged forward from the kitchen, eyed the fallen coffee table and growled. This target was proving to be far more irritating and skillful than originally thought. But there was no way he could have escaped that hail of bullets. Absolutely no way. Not with his massive frame was he able to escape unscathed.
Silently the master crept forward, gun trained towards the table and to the sofa next door. Just one head to pop up and a bullet will gladly bury itself between his eyes.
Make it quick, that was all any killer wanted out of their targets. Make the kill quick and painless so that they can continue on with their day and move on. It was those that struggled to stay alive that were the most irritating and in considerate.
Step…step…step…
“Where are you?” a voice whispered through clenched teeth…
Vicente heard the walking, he heard the slow and collected breathing of the gunman in the room. This killer was obviously intent on killing him, but why? A remnant from Castillo’s men? Maybe Terra didn’t kill all of them as she had said she did. Maybe they were not as careful returning to her apartment as they had thought? Whatever the case he needed to make sure he took this gunman down but at least left him alive enough to tell him where Reaper was.
What if he already got to her? The thought alone made him growl and see red.
Pulling the knife free from its sheath, he twirled it expertly in his hand, fingers dancing over the silvery blade as he waited for an opportunity. Unfortunately killshots were a lot harder for him to avoid. His muscles automatically inclined him to want to take life, not spare it. But he fought the impulse. Keep the man alive to get answers. It was as simple as that…
Step…step…step…
His ears perked. Whoever they were, they were closer now and were near the table. That was exactly the type of opening that he needed.
Breath held, Vicente counted to three and then popped up and hurled the dagger with all his might towards his attacker.
The blade was little more than a flash of silver in the dim morning light as it spun through the air in a slight arch, aimed for the attacker. As it soared, Vicente ducked back down to avoid the sudden reprisal from his attacker. He would know if the blade struck home and Vicente was never the type of make to miss.
FWOOMP!
“Arrrgh!!!”
THUD
That was the sound of the knife sinking into its target and a gun being dropped to through. Vicente snarled as he suddenly jumped up, leapt over the sofa, and barreled towards his attacker.
Nearly stumbled over his own legs and surveyed the gunman with the now bleeding shoulder. Those curves, that mass of long black hair, the eye patch over one eye and the other glaring at him with the combined, burning hatred of a thousand suns.
“Argggh!!” she screamed as she suddenly leapt forward and kicked out.
Her bare foot buried itself into Vicente’s stomach and the assassin stumbled back against the sofa, all the air knocked out of lungs. He barely had time to look up as Reaper smoothly pulled the knife free from her shoulder and leapt at him again, the knife held high and ready to bury itself down to the hilt in his skull.
His body reacted automatically as he suddenly rolled off to the side and watched as the Reaper’s smaller body collided with empty space and drove the knife deep into the pillows. But she did not stay down for longer than a millisecond. Before he knew it she had flipped back, pulling the knife free and was already on the attack again with slash after slash as she expertly twirled the blade in her hand.
Vicente could scarcely follow her movements as he stumbled onto his feet and began to back away from her, hands looking for something, anything that he could use to defend himself. But despite that, his mind was a whirlwind of activity as he tried to figure out exactly what was going on here.
“Reaper!! Have you lost your mind?!” he yelled as he leapt back from a slash to his stomach. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
“ARRRRRGHH!!” she screamed as she suddenly made an over reaching stab for his heart.
Vicente barely managed to step back in time. The knife in Reaper’s hand stabbed the air and the assassin nearly took a stumble over some footstool that she had placed in her apartment. But as he deftly stepped over it, he found that it was of no consequence whether or not it was damaged. Staggering back, keeping his eyes on Reaper, he watched as she suddenly kicked the footstool aside and sent it crashing against the wall.
There was nothing but unbridled hatred in her eyes, but why? Vicente had never seen her like this. Three times he’d see her fight and kill and in each of those times she was vastly in control of her emotions. But for some reason, this time it was different. She was not running off of cold tactics, she was running purely on a want of passionate disgust. She really and truly wanted him dead.
His nostrils flared as he kept glancing out of the corner of his eyes. There was nothing he could use that could conceivable defend himself with. At least not in the way that would allow him to defend himself and fend off Reaper long enough to figure out what was going on.
“Reaper! What’s wrong with you! It’s me! Vicente!” he tried to explain. Maybe she didn’t recognize him?
“I know who the *explicative deleted!* you are, you bastard!” she snarled as she twirled the knife so that it was in a more stabbed position. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?! Did you think you could keep it from me!?!?” she charged again, nearly foaming at the mouth.