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.
She wandered through the streets alone, the sidewalk void of many pedestrians. Essentially, she had evicted herself, she supposed (although she’d probably been two seconds from getting kicked out anyway). And she was absolutely sure she wasn’t welcome back. Ever. Lydia paused and rubbed her eyes. How the hell had she managed to find herself homeless?
Oh yeah. Her anti-mutant boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) went on a rampage after she told him off about his bigotry.
She had stomped out with nothing but the clothes on her back and fifteen dollars worth of crumpled bills and loose change in her back pocket. She had absolutely no idea what she was going to do, and the night was fast approaching. She sat down on a park bench, trying to strategize, trying to come up with something.
Firstly, she’d left Aedus’ number at the apartment, and had no phone anyway.
Secondly, she knew no one else (or rather, she couldn’t remember anyone) and she didn’t know the city. She’d only ventured out occasionally during the past couple of months, and never without Eli to guide her.
Thirdly…well, the first two were dismal enough.
She suddenly wished she had her memory back. Or at least a little snippet: someone to contact, info on where she’d been staying before, anything. Absolutely anything. Dia was almost tempted to try and take a nap, somehow dream up some blurry facts. She brought her knees up and buried her face in them, trying to ignore how horrible her situation was.
Hands were stuffed in pockets. Pace was kept to a minimum. The good thing about walking was it didn't require much thinking. So the empty space left over could get filled up with idle chatter.
Efforts in Columbia going smoothly. Nearly have replacement positions picked out... might be time to take him out soon...
Nudge scientists to do more research. That project was interesting. Talk with Lori about joint efforts with...
... And make sure to get something for him for Christmas.
Her, too.
As she walked, Lenna's mind wandered. So much to think about, so little time.
She looks familiar. The thought drifted by as she glanced at a girl on a park bench, minding her own business.
Walking stopped as Lenna swung her head that way. Eyes scanned the girl's features, trying to settle on her face and place a name to the girl.
So deeply engrossed was she in the thread count of her jeans (i.e. distracting herself), that Lydia did not immediately notice the woman in front of her. No, the girl did not raise her head for a minute or so, still wavering in her thoughts. She had to focus on her present predicament soon, she knew, but she did not want to.
She wanted to take back the past couple of months and stop herself from doing whatever she had been doing the night she hit her head and procured the scar sitting above her left eye. So far back did her thoughts go.
When Dia did raise her head, she flinched in surprise at the sight of the blonde woman staring at her.
“Um…hi?” She said lamely, unsure of what to do. She brought her knees down and stood up, deciding it would be a more proper way to address the stranger. “Can I help you…?” Can you help me?
"Do I... know you?" The face was definitely familiar, save for the scar... it was one of those weird feelings. She felt like she'd seen this person before, if only in passing... but the feeling was fleeting. She just couldn't place her.
She must not have spent much time talking to whoever it was. If any time at all.
Who knew? It might not even have been a positive thing.
Note to self: If you used to be an assassin and see a familiar face, do not ask them if they know you. Chances are, if they do... they might be related to a past target. Or employer.
Well, wasn't that a funny question to ask an amnesiac? Lydia almost laughed at the strangeness of the situation. The staring woman couldn't remember if she knew the girl or not...well, likewise.
"Can't say I'd know..." She mumbled, unsure of what to do. If the blonde wasn't sure, and obviously Dia didn't know, didn't that just leave the two as strangers? (Wasn't there some danger associated with that?)
Her feet wavered between walking away and staying, part of her wondering if the woman really did know her somehow...
"I, uh, have a really bad memory, you see..." Sort of. "Maybe there's a specific place you might've seen me at?
The woman seemed to be contemplating something, and Lydia wondered if initiating the conversation was even a good idea. Shouldn't she be figuring out where she was going to sleep that night? Her present engagement seemed a bit fruitless.
>> "Do you have a name?"
Doesn't everyone have a name...? The girl cocked her head at the peculiar wording of the question. It also seemed that the stranger was not going to give any form of answer to Dia’s location question.
“Yes I do…my name’s Lydia. And yours?” Perhaps if the woman heard her name, it would jog her memory. Or vice versa, which would be miraculous on Lydia’s part.
Lenna, huh? That was an interesting name. Didn’t spark any familiarity, but it was nice. Yeah…
Lydia rocked on her heels, waiting for something, anything, to happen. Something to fill up the slightly awkward pause that followed the name exchange.
>> "So. Uh. You say you have a bad memory? Why's that?"
Why is this person still talking to me… It probably would’ve been rude to just walk away, but she kind of wanted to. The chat was getting weird. Not that the question was weird, it was the conversation as a whole. Who goes up to someone like that, anyway? Staring and asking if they knew each other? And then continuing the talk even after it’s been deduced that they’re strangers? Er…
Dia supposed she was doing that too…
>> “I, um, it’s not that I have a bad memory per se…I’ve just forgotten a lot after a nasty bump on the head.” There, she’d said it pretty plainly. And awkwardly. She probably sounded crazy. But it wasn’t like she had much to lose at the moment, anyway.
There were no memories of this person coming yet... but the face still seemed familiar. Like someone seen in passing, once or twice. Nothing more. Not really much less. Like a friendly face... passing...
An image of a bowl of potatoes exchanged hands in her mind. A family dinner.
Lori sometimes invited her to family dinners at the Sanctuary. Was this girl connected to that...? If she was...
It was a shot in the dark.
"You're a mutant. Right?" Lenna asked.
This was such a weird conversation. Maybe she was better off leaving then and there.
Lydia shrugged. Yeah, me too. But she hadn’t and wasn’t going to dwell on the memory loss, not anymore at least. Sure it was causing her immense problems at the moment…and sure she’d just been brooding about it five minutes ago…but she decided it simply wasn’t doing her any good.
Again, Lenna seemed to mull something over, perhaps searching through the recesses of her memory for a possible connection to Lyd. The girl would’ve done the same except—
>> "You're a mutant. Right?”
What.
Wait. What.
Mutant‽
“No!” She exclaimed, much louder than she’d intended. “Uh…I mean, sorry. Just, no. Not that I have anything against mutants…I’m just definitely…not one.”
Although she had been having strange dreams…and Dr. Stuart had mentioned mutants. Nah, there was no way. If she was a mutant, how could she forget it? No matter how bad the amnesia, it seemed very improbable that she would forget something as important as that.
Lydia studied the other woman’s face for a moment, trying to at least see if her face was among the ones featured in her nighttime visions. Not that those were very clear. And not that she believed they were actually memories or anything.
“Maybe not as sure as I’d like to be, but I don’t think that’s something I’d forget…right? I mean, I’ve been perfectly normal for the past…two months at least.” She tripped over her words again, and honestly wasn’t sure why she was even telling Lenna any of this. She stopped herself before she felt like any more of an idiot and started fidgeting with her coat buttons.
And hey! Lenna ignored her question! That was a tad suspicious…why was she so intent on making sure if Lydia was a mutant or not, unless she herself was one.
>> "It might be the sort of mutation you have to work for. Not that I know much about mutations. I only stop them."
Why was she still talking about mutants? Hadn’t Lydia already refuted it? Yet the woman was constantly leaning in that direction…Did that mean she knew her (as a mutant)? And what did she mean when she said she stopped mutations?
Lenna was quite the enigma. The more they spoke, the more confused and questioning Lydia became. It was kind of irritating.
“Look, no offense, but I don’t have any time to waste. I need to figure out where I’m going to sleep tonight, and I’d prefer it not to be an alleyway. I don’t mean to be rude, but unless you actually do know me…I think I’m going to go.”