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.
Cafas finished his... what time was it? Oh, dinner. Cafas finished his dinner, and made his way back into the mess of corridors. Eventually, thanks to some helpful signs and a run in with security, he was back at the correct room. The doctor appeared tired, and Allison seemed... Better.
Huh, hope he's okay...
"What'd I miss?" Cafas walked into the room properly, looked between the two, and guessed it was something rather big a important. "Yeah I really needed something to eat... It was true, he'd skipped breakfast, and lunch, and second breakfast, and elevenses, etc etc.
Man that feels better...
Cafas resumed his previous sitting position. He didn't really feel comfortable in hospitals, or around doctors, one too many trips out a window and making a fool of himself on pain killers. "So Doc, any improvements on potentially dying from the shock and a week minimum stay?"
“Okay?” The doctor seemed to have a surprising amount of trust in Allison’s ability to keep people from coming to obvious conclusions. And, for that matter, in her honesty, though she at least like to think he wasn’t wrong about that one.
Cafas’ return was slightly relieving, even if a bit confusing. The doctor was still there, after all; why had Cafas come back already if he left because he was afraid of doctors? Or, at least, why did he stay back?
Which, actually, made answering his question a bit awkward. Allison took a second to remember her answer and get her expression under control before answering. “It was just a glancing blow, nothing serious, and I will limp for two days.”
Wow. She hadn’t thought she could actually keep a straight face for that. Of course, the realization that she had done so made her dissolve into giggles, anyway, but at least she managed to wait until a few seconds after she spoke.
She was really going to have to ask what kind of medicine they’d given her. She suspected there might be a chance it was affecting her. But, well, Cafas could see her leg, anyway, and it obviously wasn’t hurt at all, so he’d have to believe her. Even if she was still giggling.
"She'll be fine. I'll have her all signed out to leave this evening, but I want her to stay put for a few hours to work the morphine out of her system," Noah said to the newcomer, closing the chart. Hopefully the guy wouldn't ask too many questions; surely he'd known it was more than a glancing blow.
"Does she have somewhere safe to stay and rest for a while once she's released?" he asked, going back into his usual set of scripted lines for a discharge. "Family, friends close by? I want her to take it easy for a few days and try to stay off that leg, just in case."
He gave Allison an amused smirk; that morphine was throwing her for a bit of a loop. Then again, as long as she wasn't hallucinating, he wasn't worried. He'd had some patients see some crazy things when they had to have high dosages of morphine.
Cafas looked between Allison and the doctor for a moment. It didn't take him that long to figure out what was going on, but he looked between them regardless. Mutants. Honestly, one day all the secrecy wouldn't be necessary if Cafas had his way. "A glancing blow? Well that's sure lucky. People and their guns, seriously, who the hell shoots a girl in broad daylight in New York City?" No point arguing, the doc clearly wanted his privacy, and if his new-found exhausted look was anything to go by, he had done Allison a huge favour.
Mutants need to evolve metabolisms to keep up with their powers...
Now, if she had somewhere nearby to stay, that was a whole other matter. "I honestly have no idea... She can stay at my place if it comes to it, I'll take the couch." Or, as was more likely, the floor, given there was no couch in his room. He'd have offered Calley's bed but the shifter seemed to be using it lately. "Though if she does have somewhere to stay I'm sure I could make sure she gets there safely."
Man, don't know anything about her really and now he acts like I should...
"Thank you doctor, for taking care of her, and the paper work, I'm sure it can't be an easy job."
Allison managed to stop giggling in time in time to hear Cafas’ answer, and direct a thoroughly confused look at him. She’d been sure he knew how badly she’d been shot; probably better than she had, for that matter.
At least, he’d better have. He did not get to indulge in that much guilt without having any reason. She had agreed to lie about it, though, so she refrained from correcting him. Verbally, anyway. The what-are-you-thinking? look was harder to keep to herself.
“Couches suck.” Allison crossed her arms, nodding wisely, then remembered that one of her arms didn’t exist and carefully moved it back down next to her, leaving one arm crossed. “And you’re still beat up worse than me. No couches.” It took a moment for the obvious solution to catch up with her. “I can just go home, anyway.”
Not that there was anyone who’d be in her room, anyway. But she was pretty sure there were telepaths and empaths and otherwise-all-knowing types in Sanctuary, so if something did go wrong, one of them would probably notice. She was pretty sure nothing would, though; hospitals tended not to let anyone go anywhere if there was any chance of something going wrong in the immediate future. Except for a lack of pain medicine, maybe.
"Well, as long as she has somewhere to go and a safe way to get there, I'll get her cleared to go here in a couple of hours," Noah said, absent-mindedly checking his pile of charts to try and decide where he should go next, and trying to judge how much more healing he could manage without being too tired to get home. "And no detours, okay? I don't want to see either of you shot up and in my ER again anytime soon. Preferably never. I'm not fond of repeat customers," he joked with a smirk.
He waved off the boy's thank you with a shake of his head. No, it wasn't an easy job, but he wouldn't trade it for anything else- it made him feel useful, and kept his mind off other things. "It's my job, no thanks needed. This is what I do," he said, moving the next patient's chart to the top of the pile before looking up. "Anything else you two need before I go get her discharge papers started?"
At least he got one person out of the hospital tonight. Normally in his work in the ER, he didn't get to send many people straight home, just on to other departments.
Cafas laughed at the idea of him showing up with a bullet wound, yeah, that wasn't going to happen any time soon "Don't worry doc, you won't see me in here with a gunshot wound. As for her, well, no promises, but I'll do y best, she doesn't seem like she'll have the energy for detours." Not that he could be sure, he had attempted to ride a bicycle while drugged up on hospital grade pain killers. Luckily he had not, otherwise he'd probably have had to turn right around and go back into the ER.
Bless that Calley boy.
Cafas looked at Allison as he considered her solution. "Where is your home Allison? Got a spare room, if I show up at the mansion like this it'll just be awkward. I seem to be getting beat up every second day." And his nose never healed in the right place that one time. Why did DocProf have to let a student handle it?
The doctor offered a little more help, what more was he going to do? He'd cured a gun shot wound more or less, and Cafas figured he'd let DocProf take care of his nose. Never know he might get it back to its original shape this time. "I'm good, just a broken nose and a few cuts and bruises, I'll live."
Energy? Allison had plenty of energy. She didn’t feel sleepy at all. Which was a bit problematic at times; she really didn’t like being awake late. But she had lots of energy, all the time, so why wouldn’t she have energy now? She had plenty of energy. She just didn’t feel like doing anything.
Allison’s protest was more or less immediately forgotten when given another question to figure out. Which took some seconds, partly as she had to figure out exactly what the question was. Sanctuary had infinite rooms, as far as she knew, but she didn’t know about the ones near hers. Or, really, anywhere else specific.
Infinite rooms seemed familiar, though. Infinite space inside a building with a much smaller exterior. She’d definitely heard that before. Where had she heard that? Sanctuary clearly had no witches or wizards, that was just silly, so it wasn’t Harry Potter….
…Oh. Allison blinked. Right, that made sense. “I think Sanctuary is a TARDIS.” And, that conclusion reached, she nodded. It was obvious. And it explained everything, all by itself. So nice when sentences did that.
Broken noses, now, were not so nice. And neither were cuts or bruises. Or lying; Allison did not at all believe that Cafas only had a few cuts or bruises. She did not, unfortunately, know exactly how many he did have. She stared intently for a few seconds, trying to count, then gave up. “Not a few. How many cuts do you have?”
Noah hoped that they could manage to avoid the gunshot wounds for more than one day, rather than just on the way home, but he'd take what he could get. He quirked an eyebrow at the boy curiously. "Any particular reason you're getting beat up every other day?" he asked with a bemused tone, then he set the charts aside. "Sit down, let me have a look at that broken nose for you. Have any cuts that might need stitches?" he added.
He had too many patients who were way too stubborn these days. Of course, it would be quite hypocritical for him to complain or even say anything, considering he was probably even worse than most of them about it. But the least he could do was help the kid with his broken nose- those things could be quite painful.
He chuckled at the girl. Yeah, she would need to stay put for an hour or two to let the morphine work its way out of her system.
Cafas chose to laugh and ignore Allison's ramblings for the moment. Rather, he would focus on the doctor and his questions. "Oh, it's kinda in my job description. At least that's what I tell myself when I get continually beaten up. I'm afraid I'm guilty of being a X-man doc." Cafas was even coming to believe that sentence. Not that he thought he would ever think of himself as someone else's vanguard, despite the evidence to the contrary.
Painful, haha, not the half of it.
Cafas touched his taped nose. Yeah it was still broken genius. It was slightly off. Bummer, if anything he felt it was slightly further across his face. "Cuts and bruises, yeah a couple I guess, the one thats bugging me most is the one on my eyebrow. The one with the butterfly bandage, hurts when I move my face. As for my nose, I know a guy who'll put it back how genetics intended it." He would accept the repair work on his face.
That girl is such a tool...
He could not ignore a direct question, it was rude. "Nurse down in emergency says I have six lacerations and two are quite serious. She also said something about a potential concussion, but I was showing no symptoms. Aside from that, cracked rib, and what you see on my face. The black eyes are my biggest concern, I like seeing."
Allison knew what an X-man was. Probably. She was sure she did, anyway, even if she didn’t actually know at that particular second. Someone seemed to have given her thoughts caffeine; instead of thinking about multiple things at once and occasionally crossing them with each other, her thoughts were only on one thing at a time, but only on one thing for a second at a time. What an X-man was, apparently, would have taken more than one second of thought to recall, and so was neatly forgotten about, except to note that Allison hoped none of her friends would be one, since she didn’t particularly like her friends being beat up. Naked Boy Number Two, now, she hoped would become one; she’d like to see him get beat up more often. Maybe she should find fliers or something, and leave them by his room. Wherever his room was. She could figure that out later. Once she found fliers. And an opportunity to see him, should he be beat up. Maybe she should offer to help the nurses? She didn’t have any medical training, really, but she did have some psychology, which could be handy occasionally, and every organization always needed someone to carry things around and do paperwork. Paperwork would be worth it if she could see Naked Boy Number Two get beat up on a regular basis.
And, note of maybe interest: Cafas had not had plastic surgery, at least on his nose, or if he did he didn’t like the result. How someone would put his nose back where it was when the doctor couldn’t, she had no idea, but would hopefully find out. Even if she had no idea when she could ever possibly use the information, she was curious.
“See? That’s not a few. A few is like… two. They rhyme. Or maybe three or four because people are silly and don’t like admitting when they can’t be accurate. But it’s not… um….” Six? Plus two? Or including two? Had Cafas even said how many bruises he had? Allison supposed black eyes could count as bruises, though she wasn’t sure how they’d stop anyone from seeing, since she was fairly certain black eyes were more like black bruises-around-the-eyes. And she had no idea if concussions counted as bruises or not. Though they’d probably at least come with a bruise. Anyway, math seemed to require more concentration than her caffeinated thoughts were willing to handle. “A few is less than whatever number you have.”
There. That was accurate.
“…And lacerations is a funny word. It makes me think of castles.”