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.
Bizarre. Shadows just felt weird. She was held and even lifted. There was something there but at the same time it wasn't really anything at all. "You had me at the ribs earlier. If it's first hit..." He let her arms go. "technically it's you again." Thousands of years of experience just didn't melt down into a perfect swordswoman. That was why she was practicing. She needed her sword to match their swords, her reflexes to be as fast as the moves she saw in her head.
She rubbed her jelly arms with shaking hands before taking his hand in hers. Noel's normal grip strength just wasn't there right now. Maybe after a gatorade and a little unicorn visit. "Noel." Was her polite name answering response, but his name just didn't sit right on her tongue.
"Is Nate a nickname?" She'd learned (the hard way) that outright calling people's bluffs didn't earn her any favors. Noel smudged the little wispy hairs that were plastered to the sweat on her brow back from her eyes.
So it was her body he struck; good to know, in hindsight. "Considering what you had to deal with, I'm gonna give you credit for getting that shot in on me anyway."
Nate rubbed his eyes lightly. He was never a huge fan of contacts, so it felt out of place wearing them. Her question seemed like an odd enough inquiry. Of course, Nate would not be a legal name. Why would that matter? "Nice to meet you, Noel. And yeah, it's short for Nathaniel."
Well wasn't he being awfully nice about things while he lied to her face? Noel went to retrieve her sword which she had (again) thrown across the room. She retrieved her helmet too while she was at it.
"But Nathaniel isn't your name either." Her tone was matter of fact. Noel knew the truth. Or, at least, she knew what wasn't the truth. She dropped the helmet. Jelly arms. And had to pick it up again. Once she had all her stuff in her arms she gave him a classic woman's stare down, the one that suggested that she had eyes at the back of her head and why yes, she did just see what you were doing.
Well, something was amiss now. She gathered her belongings and her weapon, so he kept his hand on the hilt of his blade, unsure of where this was going to lead. He had to remember she was a mutant, and it was about time he figured out what abilities she had. It made no sense for her to be a telepath; if that were true, she could have predicted his movements and won their bout more handily. All he knew was that his words were somehow betraying him.
It is nowadays, and that's what matters." She dropped her helmet. He was running low on strength, but she was showing signs of weariness in her, like this was not the first time she exerted herself recently. "So how exactly does that mutation of yours work, anyway? You got to see mine, after all." He was notably uncomfortable, remembering his first encounter with Kealey. The word "empath" sank the color out of his skin back then, and whatever Noel was doing was just as dangerous for him.
He caught a glimpse of her eyes and a shiver ran up, down and back up his spine. "Is that glare part of it?" No, her calling my bull is mutant, but that is all woman-skill.
It is nowadays? She mouthed the words to herself. "What does that even mean? Are you hiding from somebody?" She wasn't trying to be persistent. Noel was really just trying to understand. If he knew his name, he should use it. Only crooks or jerks used fake names. Or people with something to hide. Sometimes that stuff was legit.
"Eh. My ability isn't one that you can see. It's all memory based." She shifted toward the door so she could drop this gear off and change back to normal people clothes. "If you forgot your name, I could help you, you know."
She seemed more interested in understanding the situation than making things worse. Apparently she was able to do something with his memories which seemed to tell her Nate was not his real name. "I remember my name. It's... Nate is giving me a chance for a fresh start. My real name has nothing left for me right now."
He gathered his own gear and followed her to the door out of the fight area. There was only one door in the underground spot, and Nate was quickly reminded that it led to the only locker room which was not an issue before when he subconsciously assumed his opponent would be a man. Trying to avoid being awkward, he walked to the other side of a row of lockers in hopes of giving Noel some privacy.
On his own side, he began shedding his outer layer of padding. He called over the lockers, "So how in depth can you get with my memories?"
Fresh start. Hmm. She could understand the benefits of a fresh start. Kind of. Well, she understood the theory of it anyway and knew she'd probably had more than her fair share of second chances with her power set.
Noel dumped her helmet and sword at the front desk as they passed and promised to return the rest as soon as she'd changed. She just didn't want to carry around the whole shebang the entire time. The mutual locker room was fine too. Her gym had separate changing facilities so she'd gotten used to changing by herself considering the usual gender ratio. Nate had not earned her dress as Sebastian had. Yeah, he'd won but he had the advantage from the beginning. That was what her pride told her anyway.
"As deep as I want, but it's not exactly polite to do that in public or so I'm told." She didn't catch the sideways glance that earned her from the one other set of duelists that were changing. Noel was busy slipping out of the dense jacket and that was a serious weight off her shoulders. She fanned herself before slipping her red shirt on over her head.
"How's that fresh start working out for you?" She kicked off the white shoe covers next.
He had escaped his white suit and was pulling off the clothing he wore underneath, wet with sweat. He grabbed a towel from his bag and dried himself off, looking through the bag for another dark blue shirt. "In public? How invasive is this memory scan? Touch-based?" He could not think of anything inappropriate in public that did not involve touch.
He took a swig from a water bottle he brought with him, thinking about her question. He was making positive connections with people who were not sketchy or untrustworthy, he was leading a more healthy lifestyle and things with a beautiful woman were looking up. "You know, it is all I could have asked for." He had a cache of old aliases, but not one of them was better to him than Nate.
She yanked her braid out of her shirt and tugged the band off the end. She ran her fingers through the strands as she spoke. "Uhm. Touch based. Yeah. You could say that." If the touching was done with her tongue. "Some of it is just always running and it's not very handy in a fight unless I'm making someone forget something." Like how to use their arms or forgetting the reason why they wanted to fight her in the first place. That was about as useful as it got.
She shimmied into her jeans and pulled out her sword and belt. That was no blunted epée. Today's flavor was a sabre, broad compared to the foil and with a traditional grip and guard instead of the pistol grip of her rented fare. Noel hadn't had the foresight to bring towel or water bottle but there was a water fountain off to the side. She tied her tennis shoes before slipping off for a sip.
His fake name was still suspect. It seemed like a selfish switch to her for some reason. Or maybe she was just jealous because he had more than one name to choose from.
Nate got into comfortably worn jeans and sat on the bench to tie up his converse. Her power was intriguing, if incredibly vague so far. She could access some memories through touch (or something like that,) she could help "retrieve" forgotten memories, and she cold cause someone to forget. Curious... that would be one hell of a power for a con.
He placed his epée in a case and repacked his bag. He walked to the fountain she was drinking from and waited for her to finish so he could refill his water bottle. He was thirsty enough not to question the water from a place like this. "As far as powers go, making someone forget could have its uses. Very interesting." He looked at her side and realized she was carrying a sword that was very much not her rented epée. His knowledge of the New York Code of Law was strong enough that he knew the weapon was not illegal per say, but it would certainly garner attention. "That thing an everyday accessory?" He had to wonder what sort of woman was always armed with a sword in New York...
"Forgetting is a blessing and a curse. Just like starting over." She took the time to stretch her arms and back before she grabbed up the rented protective gear that was left of her outfit.
Noel had to look at where he was pointing to realize that he meant the sword. "Never leave home without it. Though, not always this one. The katana is my favorite, but there's this whole Japanese wannabe generation and they have no shame." She had even gotten hugged by one of them. "This is my second favorite because of the weight, balance, hilt and edge. Broadsword after that, though I couldn't handle that today. Too heavy." She wadded the clothes under her arm and waiting for him to do the same before heading for the door. They might part ways after this, but a friendly conversation never hurt anyone.
Nate was not in the business of making his own idioms, but one did come to mind: Take to heart life lessons given by a woman in the practice of wielding swords. "I understand." He was well aware that the ramifications of his life-changing lifestyle would catch up to him one day. He was a man on the run from himself.
Their walk seemed like it would extend past the doors, and that was fine by him. She was an interesting person he wanted to figure out more clearly and he was in no rush to get anywhere, a benefit of his profession. "I'm an artist now. It's been a welcome career change." Both true statements. He was slightly more conscious of what he said now, aware of the lie detector-style buzzer in Noel's head.
"How about you? Is there a profession that comes with an impressive collection of swords through the ages?" he asked, taking a drink from his bottle.
He was an artist now. He was after a fresh start. He was using a new name to get these things. Noel smiled as she dropped her stuff off and signed on the dotted line to let them charge her if something was missing. Good luck there. She paid for everything in cash always.
She held the door for them and lowered her voice to ask her next question so hopefully only Nate would hear. "Are you witness protection or something? I mean, you can tell me, I'm ex-FBI." Kind of. Aw heck, she wasn't entirely sure what she is or was. She didn't have her tattoos to tell her anymore. In fact, she wouldn't even know she even had those tattoos if she hadn't seen them in Aedus' memories.
"Now I'm just a security guard. Not the most stimulating work, but it pays the bills. Sometimes I even get to use a stern voice and escort people out of the building." They didn't mind the sword she carried and she didn't ever expect to have to expose the gun under her pant leg, but she'd learned her lesson and would carry both no matter what the rules were.
She held out her hand for the bottle, her way of asking for a drink without asking. Noel was fully aware that he had been drinking out of that bottle. She knew what that meant for her and her powers. She wasn't gonna tell him that, though. She was curious and she didn't have to tell him if she saw something good in there.
>> "Are you witness protection or something? I mean, you can tell me, I'm ex-FBI."
Well, that was unsettling news. Ex-FBI meant there was some chance, large or small, that one of his crimes might have come across her desk at some point. "Oh, nothing like that. I've just... well, I've made my mistakes."
She reached out, and he could assume what she was requesting. He laughed at her comment and handed his bottle to her. "I'm sure you give 'em a right and proper scare." Thankfully, Nate was not a germaphobe, so he had no qualms with sharing water.
She accepted the water bottle and cupped her hand around the mouth so he wouldn't see her tongue touching the top… only… she started to feel guilty even before she had even taken a drink. How devious was it for her to cover her tracks and be only partially truthful in order to get what she wanted? This just wasn't her.
"Nate? How mad would you be if I picked up… some stuff?" She flicked the small bit of moisture off her hand so she wouldn't even be tempted to lick that off her hand. There was still potential for transfer. Noel handed the bottle back to him without drinking any and shoved her hands into her pockets.
"I don't really care about whatever you're hiding from. It's not like I have anybody to report to anymore and it's not like they'd trust me anyway." If Noel walked into the FBI right now they'd probably shoot her and give him a reward. Which was sad because she had dedicated years of her life to them. Or who she had thought was them. She'd even been working toward a pension. Now, like any other cop who was too dirty or too lazy or too greedy, she'd gone into the private security sector.