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.
Designation: Iota-35 Alias: Iona Age: 17 Parentage:Ion & Glitch Powers: Large sections of the body, especially those parts normally concealed by clothes, are robotic. These sections are composed of steel plates and wiring along with other structures analogous to the human body. This includes the chest, upper arms, parts of the legs, and the left forearm. Her skull is also metal beneath her skin. These sections are tough and heavy but able to store electrical charge.
The human parts of the body can generate electrical charge. They can also release electrical charge. The ability to release the charge raises the longer the power is active. Going from the high voltage and lower amperage power of a taser to the high voltage high amperage power of a plasma cutter over the course of a fer minutes. The power must be running to build up the ability to release the current. If the generation is kept as low as the ability to release the current and the power is pushed into the storage of the mechanical parts then the human parts to not give off a corona. If electricity is generated without any sending it somewhere it builds up and creates a corona or causes electrical breakdown at very high voltages.
The power can even be moved from the human to mechanical parts to overvolt them. This increases the power of the moving parts. Increasing strength as the power given to them is increased. The overvolting can raise the strength of the mechanical parts by up to three times her normal strength. After several minutes of running in an overvolted state the mechanical parts will begin to break down and need to be repaired or replaced. Personality Traits: Cold and robotic. The cyborg appearance gave no reason for the team to even consider treating her as a human or anything other than a tool. Appearance: Standing at 5’6” she is part human, part machine. Her torso, upper arms, the left forearm, and part of her legs are robotic. Those parts are covered in yellow metal plating. The rest of the body is human with a fair skin tone. She has short and easy to manage blonde hair and blue eyes.
Early summer of the previous year. So this was still recent but before age of majority. Her parents had discussed getting her ready for college but never discussed the financial side. That all but eliminated promissory estoppel. Still not a bad avenue to explore.
Ion chewed his food, thinking. She fled while a minor, took two-thousand dollars, had no specific guarantee for money for college, and they were anti-mutant. Society had come a long way from the days of the Mutant Registration Act. Erickson v. California was one heck of a turning point.
After swallowing and then washing down the bite, Ion asked, ”Did they ever say they would not pay for college or any secondary education of any kind? After your mutation was revealed or otherwise.” Then changing gears Ion asked another question, ”Did you ever admit to taking the money, other than to me? Do they have any way of proving it was you specifically that took the money?”
Celestina wavered for a moment. A look back before she sat. Ion took a drink before she started into the story. It was a story that was all too common. Parents have kid, kid is mutant, parents try again for what to them is a real child. The twist was she stole some money on the way out when she ran away and were suing her for it. Celestina also produced the document. Ion took it and gave it a quick once over. Notice of Claim for two grand. It had the court date and all the necessary information for Celestina to know where to go and when. There was even a nice note informing her she did not require an attorney. How cute.
Ion handed the document back to Celestina. ”How long ago did you run away and how old were you at the time?” Ion took hold of his burger before adding to his questions, ”At any time did you parents ever discuss the possibility of paying for school or indicate any type of fund or money set aside for you? Even in jest.” That asked he took a bite.
He didn’t think they would have, but he needed to cover the basics.
The man took his time in answering. Took a few steps into lamplight and let out smoke. In the light the man stood under Ion could see the face to match the voice. Detective Jorge Cervantes. Except it wasn’t. The way this man held himself was different. Ion waited for him to answer before deciding on a course of action.
It was Jorge Cervantes but not. Same face, same name… Different universe. The way he spoke, the way he acted in context, and what he said. This must be the Jorge of the other universe across the rip.
Not a detective then? He still could be but would be outside his jurisdiction here and would have no need to bother Ion. He was something else, someone else. This Jorge applauded criminal activity. This Jorge tempted God, assuming there was one. This may be the other universe’s Jorge.
It could also be a clever sting.
Ion held onto his power, the longer it ran the deadlier it became. He generated just enough juice to keep it arcing across his fingers and a corona visible around him. Nothing too flashy, relatively speaking, but it kept the flow he could release at once rising. He could always generate the power to fill the flow later.
”Good to meet you Mr. Cervantes. You’ll forgive me if I don’t shake your hand.” Ion moved his hand in front of him and wiggled his fingers. Electricity arced between them. ”If you are not the detective, then why are you here?”
Information was king. Before he acted he needed information. Someway to corroborate Mr. Cervantes statement or disprove it and if disproven, how to evade.
A long story that wasn’t and involved mutants, parents of the year, and a runaway. It sounded like the makings of a pro bono case right up Ion’s alley. Small claim, involved mutants, and had positive publicity written all over it. While the state required pro bono work the firm of Roark and Rearden requested their attorneys do only work that could help the image of the company without complicating matters for their large clients.
”I’d love to hear it. If you have a moment.” Ion gestured to the seat across from him, ”Maybe I can help.” He said smiling to her.
The conversation between Ion and Mr. Hollop went predictably. Mr. Hollop wanted to put on a tough front, hide behind his pride, duty as a juror, other drivel. Eventually Ion’s ability to provide enough information about Mr. Hollop’s wife and her schedule got it through his skull. Do what I say or find your kids a new mother. Ion only had to make the man ride the lightning once during the whole conversation.
When confronted with a threat humans display one of three behaviors; fight, flight, or freeze. Mr. Hollop was a red blooded American male whose first instinct was to fight when backed into a corner and the threat was in front of you. Threatening Mr. Hollop’s wife prompted him to rush Ion. Ion let him see what a taser feels like with a lazy gesture of his hand and several seconds of electrical discharge. He could have done much worse, but he wanted the man scared, not hospitalized or dead.
Finally when Ion decided his work was done he moved aside. ”It has been a productive evening, Mr. Hollop. You had best get home before that lovely wife of yours gets worried. And don’t forget, just keep an open mind, there is no reason to think Eric is guilty. Just make sure he is acquitted and we can all put this behind us.”
Seeing the chance to leave, Mr. Hollop slid along the wall away from Ion nodding his head. Ion reduced his generation to its minimum. The corona reduced to the faintest hint of the spiky colored wisps off is body. If Mr. Hollop made a poor life choice and came back with help Ion wanted to be able to end any confrontation quickly.
Rather than footsteps of New York’s finest, Ion heard someone clap.
Ion looked to the clap, his power ramping back up his electrical generation leading to electricity arcing from him to the walls, the ground, the dumpster, anything else around him. It bathed the alley in an ever shifting purplish light. Ion couldn’t see the man, he was silhouetted with just the faint light of a cigar. Ion didn’t need to see him though, he knew that voice. Detective Jorge Cervantes, NYPD Mutant Related Crimes Division.
The Detective spoke and Ion held still. His face was still shadowed, but it didn’t seem to matter. The Detective knew Ion was an attorney, this meant he might know it was none other than WIlliam Michael Faraday. He had a few choices, including hitting the Detective with enough juice to cut steel. Instead he maintained his composure. He needed to know if the Detective had just discovered him or if the entire department knew.
”Independent study.” Ion said, maintaining the voice he had affected for Mr. Hollop. ”We were always encouraged to find innovative solutions to problems.” Electricity danced around Ion’s fingers as he stood watching the silhouette. He didn’t know what was beyond the alley. He would need the Detective to approach him or he would have to leave through the other end of the alley.
There was one thing that didn’t fit. It was the Detective’s voice, but his tone didn’t fit with what he would expect from a detective who had just witnessed threat of bodily injury, assault, jury tampering, and a terroristic threat. And the posture, too relaxed.
Jackson Hollop, also known as, Juror Twelve. Mr. Hollop was a middle aged man white man who sat in upper middle class. Mr. Hollop had a wife and three children. Mr. Hollop was a good American who kept up with the Joneses. Mr. Hollop was a defense attorney’s nightmare.
Ion had run out of challenges when Mr. Hollop became a prospective juror and he had no beliefs that would outright disqualify him from serving. During the course of the case it was clear from his body language that Mr. Hollop had already decided that the defendant, a mutant named Eric Tanner, was guilty. For men like Mr. Hollop, if the police arrested you than you clearly had done the crime. In this case Mr. Hollop was correct, Mr. Tanner had without a doubt used his mutant powers to rob the bank. The issue was that the evidence.
Mr. Tanner had never left a fingerprint the police could find. Mr. Tanner had never revealed his face during the crime. Mr. Tanner displayed his mutant power, but who is to say someone else couldn’t have that power. New York CIty has over twenty million citizens and has innumerable tourists. Anyone from anywhere in the world could have been in that bank.
The prosecution relied on the low odds of any two mutants in the same city having nearly identical powers and the testimony of a witness. A drug user who lives in the same building as Mr. Tanner.
The former could be obfuscated with a series of subject matter experts who contradicted what the prosecution’s experts said and by undermining the credibility of the prosecution’s efforts. The latter was easier, people are already inclined to not trust their friendly neighborhood druggie.
Ion’s approach to the defense had been working, The trial consultant had indicated they had the jury on their side, except the one. Juror Twelve.
It was time to change that. If Ion couldn’t win hearts and minds in the courtroom with logic and tugging on heartstrings than he would speak a more base language. Fear.
The jury had not been sequestered for the trial, they could still come and go in their normal life as they wished, but were ordered to avoid discussing the trial or watching any media related to the case. Mr. Hollop therefore continued to frequent his favorite bar, McGee’s Pub. The trial was on recess until Monday, Mr. Hollop planned to spend saturday night out drinking. Come three in the morning as he left to walk home, he was yanked into an alley as he walked home.
“What the hell! Let go of me!” He yelled before Ion pushed him into a dumpster. Ion wasn’t the strongest man around, but he was strong enough to man handle a surprised drunk.
”Good evening, Mr. Hollop. I need just a moment of your time.” Ion had stepped back into a shadow, a hoodie pulled up to hide his face, and affecting a different voice. Mr. Hollop looked at Ion and tried to move away. Immediately a corona formed around Ion as electricity arced between his hands. ”Please, Mr. Hollop it’ll only be a moment and it is preferable to the alternative.” Arcs of electricity formed between Ion and everything around him. Crackling and the smell of ozone filled the air.
Taking the hint, Mr. Hollop retreated back to the side of the dumpster. Seeing the man’s compliance, Ion brought his hands together and the electrical breakdown subsided leaving just the corona behind.
”Let’s talk about Eric Tanner and how Stephanie would really appreciate him not being convicted.” Ion said as the color drained from Mr. Hollop’s face at the mention of his wife.
Ion’s order taken Celestina left. While he waited for his food, Ion pulled several documents out and reviewed them. It wasn’t an overly complicated case, just one with many small details to keep in order. It was like being back in school. Memorize all the facts to regurgitate on the test and then let them float away. In their time lawyers come to know many things, in a career a lawyer might forget more about an industry than most actual employees there ever know.
When Ion heard the Celestina approach he looked up from his documents. He saw she had his food and quickly whisked them away into his briefcase. The waitress set his order on the table while informing him it was hot. Ion gave a, ”Thank you.” as she set the food down. When she asked him if there was anything else he thought for a moment before putting his napkin in his lap and replying, ”No thank you, this should be enough.” Ion paused a moment before holding up a hand to keep her from walking away. ”Actually, there is one thing. If it isn’t too much of an intrusion. The document in your apron. What’s the story?”
Grilled swiss and mushroom burger with onion rings? Quite greasy but he was in a diner. What else was there? Ion looked at the menu and pursed his lips considering. The Oreo milkshake was certainly out.
“I can go get your drink and come back if you need more time.”
”No need.” Ion said as he closed and set down the menu. “I’ll have the burger. With the onion rings.”
His eyes snapped for a moment to the summons the girl had. The firm was on him about taking a pro bono case. Something to satisfy the bar maybe get some publicity. Bit shot firm helping a poor waitress could be good for something. He made a note to ask her about it after he had eaten and gone over his current case some.
”You’ll be the first person I call.” Ion said with a small chuckle. It was something he could do that she could definitely help with. The odds of him needing to plasma cut something were exceedingly low though. Ion was a man of some refinement who wasn’t about to do something so menial if he could avoid it.
Where she could be useful was more along the lines of being a power sink. Somewhere he could deposit excess energy. If he needed to use his power at a higher amperage but not put on a lightshow she would be invaluable. You never know when ending a pacemaker in a dinner party could help your case.
"Is your power tied to your emotion at all?"
She was likely asking because hers did. ”Not really. I often feel a thrill as I use my power, but the amount of charge I have doesn’t seem to affect me much. Perhaps this is due to me bleeding my charge constantly.” Not to mention that he has never explored the effect it would have on him to charge himself to full and keep it there. It might be worth exploring.
Ion lowered his power generation to bring the corona back. Maintenance likely would want words of he singed something with his power. While he didn’t care what they thought, it was not worth the hassle. ”As I understand it yours is tied very closely to your emotions though.”
The waitress Ion had smiled at came to his table. She smiled a smile that told Ion she was dealing with something before introducing herself as Celestina. The reason for the sadness in her smile was not hard to see. She had a summons poking out of her apron. Which was curious, the woman looked around eighteen or so. What could a young waitress have done that would have her served? More than likely it was small claims.
”Evening.” He said in reply.
Celestina then asked what he would like, listing off drink options and asking if he would like an appetizer.
”I’ll have tea. Sweet. And no appetizers.” He looked back at the menu before adding. ”In your opinion what’s the best thing on the menu, Celestina?”
Ion needed somewhere to sit and work, that wasn’t work. He had papers to go through and needed a change of scenery. Having been at work since early o’clock he felt going out for a bite would suffice. To that end, Ion loaded his documents into his briefcase and headed out of the building. He left his suit jacket behind. He looked in places as he walked, he was looking for somewhere that would have tolerable food and not be too busy. He was not about to wait to be seated.
The Wallflower Diner. As Ion walked past the windows he looked in. It wasn’t busy and it looked nice enough inside. A quaint little retro diner. It was good enough. He went inside.
As he had seen through the windows, it was not busy and it was clean. A tall, for a woman, blonde waitress stood watching the door. Ion gave her a smile (always be nice to the people who handle your food) before he took a booth to himself. Somewhere he could spread out some of his papers and still have room to eat.
Ion rolled up his sleeves and took a look at the menu. Nothing stood out to him as what he should order. He’d ask the waitress what she would suggest.
Lori’s attempt to throw around legal terms was cute. Neither things she said were applicable to the situation. ”Then is Discovery. We draft a Bill of Particulars and a series of Demands to serve. This is the slowest part of the case. With Jaager collapsing this would likely take longer, but I already have most of what we would need. My time will likely be spent complying with their Demand for Discovery than them ours.” In fact, Ion had so much on Jaager, he could likely win the case without a Demand for Discovery if he didn’t need it to introduce evidence.
”Of course they want to settle. The issue is if they will offer enough. There is the chance they’ll settle on our terms to keep Jaager out of prison. We’ll have to see.”
Ion sipped at his scotch while Lori detailed her power. It was interesting how it was so different, yet still electrical in nature. She could release it in little arcs of electricity from her skin, similar to him, but his was involuntary and due to his inability to hold power. More interesting was how she could use magnetic fields as a result of hers. Ion idly wondered how devastating she could be if he was to provide her with an ever increasing supply of power. ”How much power can you hold? Do you have a limit?” Ion asked.
Lori asked him simply, “You?”
”As I said before, I’m a generator.” A corona formed around Ion as he turned on his power. ”I generate power but cannot hold it. If I don’t use it, it bleeds out as a corona.” The corona moved to electrical breakdown and arcs of electricity shot from his skin to other things near him. ”I can generate it much faster than I can release it.” Ion held his hand over the table and electricity arced from his hand to the table. It was more visually intense than what arced off him randomly. More power flowed through the sustained arc. ”The longer I use my power the more I can release. I can go from being a stun gun to a plasma cutter in a matter of minutes.” Ion stopped the arc from his hand to the table but continued to generate power. There was hardly a mark, unlike the black mark on the concrete near where his car was parked.
It was true you could catch more flies with honey, but not all flies. Some needed additional motivation to overcome feelings of altruism and duty. ”There is certainly a time and place for that approach. Next time you can show me how it is done.” Lori was good. Ion had caught himself leaning into her words be she diverted her comment to being about a witness.
Lori wasn’t too proud to play the victim. This was good. Some people were, especially in the corporate world. When you were pretty and small it did wonders to play the victim, especially if you can stack a jury with men.
"The world's not fair. Most people don't get the perspective to see the advantage in that." Lori toasted, Ion raised his glass. What she said was quite true.
”The next step is to file a summons and complaint. They are being drafted now, once they are done all you have to do is sign and then I will take care of the filing. This gives Jaager thirty days to respond. What we do next will depend on the answer.” Ion explained before sipping at his scotch. ”While we wait… I’m curious. Like me you have a power involving electricity. I was able to make a few guesses from what I read about it. You being like a battery and manipulating magnetic fields. I would love to hear more about it.”
Lori’s condition for doing what Ion wanted was something he could without a doubt ensure. Keeping the closet shut would be simple in the courtroom, and not much more difficult outside of the courtroom. Outside the courtroom things would be handled more electrically. ”I can keep the door shut. Controlling what witnesses say is a specialty of mine.” It was amazing what a little witness intimidation could accomplish when you had the resources to find what they were most afraid of.
And Lori did not want to go to trial, but wasn’t opposed if necessary. Good. This case would need to go to trial if there was any chance to make the money Ion saw at the end of it. The absolute best resolution he saw with a settlement was Lori was handed Faust Pharmaceuticals and received attorney fees. Which given the shorter duration would be much less going into Ion’s pocket. ”They will make settlement offers, the best offers will come once we begin a trial. It will be up to you to balance what you could win against less time in the courtroom and lesser damages.”
Ion rose to pour Lori another drink, this time from the bottle of 43 year old scotch.
”It is good you understand branding, we will have to sell you to the Jury.” He said as he poured. ”Faust Pharmaceuticals return is something we can easily get back through compensatory damages. What we need is the jury to hammer Jaager in punitive damages and for that you have to be one-hundred percent the victim.” Ion handed Lori her drink and returned to his seat. ”Jaager was the aggressor in a hostile takeover of Faust Pharmaceuticals and it was done purely for greed on his part at the cost of the good Faust Pharmaceuticals could have done… Messages like that are what we need to present to the jury, and they will have to be tailored for who ends up on the jury.”
