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.
Okay so this girl could do some really neat things with clothes. Kinky.
Though Sinclaire really didn't have time to think about that, did he? He'd struck with the knife, hoping to harm her just enough to incapacitate her, but to no avail. The straightjacket had blocked the knife, and in that instant he found himself jarred just a little as the pistol hit him right across the face. If he could feel, he probably would have been done, between the pistol whip and being slammed against the wall earlier. But it merely staggered him for a moment.
"If you think down here's bad, you should see my office," he said dryly as he let the knife hit the floor with a clang. New plan. The big guy dropped low, taking a low stance and attempting to wrap his arms around her, just at her thighs before slamming his weight into her. Classic take down.
From a distance, she had the advantage; her straight-jacket had a longer reach, and had the means to keep him away. But if he could stay in close, not give her room to breathe...he could take the advantage. Basic physics.
"They strike me as an acquired taste," Blaine said dryly as he took a sip of his drink. "Albeit....a taste that I would rather not acquire." The nerveless man shrugged, smirking slightly at his attempt at a wisecrack. Though in his experience, the only good thing that he got out of parties like this were when he was working them; the pay was rather nice, for the most part.
And then, someone else had joined them. He had to snort at the pimp cane comment though. "Wouldn't surprise me. Though he does pull it off quite well," Blaine said with another smirk as he turned to face the speaker, who'd said her name was Noel.
"Blaine," he said as he waved to the bartender as well, ordering another drink. His, had a little more kick than just water. He was trying to find the right balance. He didn't care if he never remembered tonight again, but...he'd rather not have to make Lee have to carry him home. Even if under the right circumstances with her mutation, she could do it.
His brow furrowed at the thought of dancing, but he turned to Lee. "You can go have fun if you want, long as they bring you back at the end of the night," he said with a wink. But then he took a big gulp of his drink and then looked back to Noel.
Blaine had been through a rough month. In the time since meeting his doppleganger, the formerly-believed-to-be-unshakable retired fighter, had been shaken and rendered barely able to leave the house. But enough was enough. He had to do something. He refused to be holed up in Lee's apartment forever. Besides...she wasn't home, and he was out of alcohol.
So, he was dressed in a blue denim jacket that was open to show his white, too-tight for its own good muscle shirt, with a pair of jeans and his black boots. He'd started to head to the store to get beer, but instead, walked into a bar he hadn't been to before. Well, it was more of a club, but it had a bar, and there wouldn't be anyone he knew there.
But he needed to get out; he had to get his life back.
And to do that, he was going to drink. Some weird dancey-music was blaring in the background, and he made his way to the bar. "Rum and coke. Keep em comin," he said, taking a sip of his drink as his eyes darted around the room. He felt like he was being watched, like the other guy was going to burst through the crowd.
He stared into his drink, taking a sip. Oh yeah...that hit the spot. Maybe that would help take the edge off.
Sinclaire hadn't planned on any action today. But he couldn't actually complain that he'd gotten dragged away from paperwork, could he? This was an emergency, after all. Ah shit...there was going to be paperwork on this little incident, wasn't there? His thought was interrupted when he realized he'd never actually made it to her. He never felt a thing, but there was a dull thud that rang down the hall as two-hundred sixty pounds of mutant slammed into the wall.
It was an odd sensation, being tossed around when you felt nothing. Only the knowledge of moving, knowing you were momentarily not in control of your own body was what remained. He should have known this was a powerful mutant--well, he figured, considering the trouble she was causing. But there was no time to research it. He just had to fly by the seat of his pants. And for a brief moment, that was very literal.
He slumped against the floor, but quickly hopped to his feet, knife still in hand. He heard her say stand down, but his gears had been turning since he saw her. This was a confined hallway; ricochet was a very dangerous possibility. But there was a problem with guns. The main reason he didn't like them.
He'd heard her say stand down, but he was already in motion, lunging not at her, but attempting to wrestle the gun free. He didn't know how trained she was, but he was going to make it hard for her to focus on firing. Would she risk merely injuring him? Having a deadly game of pinball? Who knew?
But the thing was, Sinclaire was a man who took a lot of risks, thanks to his power. The question was...how much of a gambler was she?
Blaine was recovering on the outside, smiling more, acting more like himself. But on the inside, his mind and emotions were still clouded, even though he was able to stave that off for now, who knew when it might flare back up again? And she couldn't stay by his side all the time, could she?
She grabbed his bag, and even began packing extra clothes. Good, she was planning ahead; he wasn't exactly cut out for that right now. He nodded, then kissed her back, taking her hand with exactly the same grip that he always had. There were some ways the other guy really damaged Blaine, but Blaine had someone who could put him back together.
Leading her out of the apartment, he locked the door behind them, sort of leaning into her.
He loved being this close to her; in fact, her being here was what kept him together like he had been. But he knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. His mind was still buzzing, and though it killed his pride even more than it had been...he needed help. More importantly, he needed her. He'd never been dependent on anyone, but here he was, and...he was still thankful for her. Her strength, her sweetness, her experience.
He knew she'd been through some shit, and she was willing to wade through more just to be with him. He nodded, smiling softly as he stood up and made his way to the bedroom, stripping down completely and throwing on a pair of black jeans and another too-small muscle shirt before tossing on his socks and gym shoes.
Then, he went back to Lee. "Alright. We can go when you're ready. Thanks again, Hun. I really do appreciate you." He smiled, looking at her stomach. "And the little one, too."
He sat still as Lee continued to clean him up; he was glad to have someone like her around. He could only imagine how this would have ended if he was still alone in the world, and none of his imagined outcomes were the slightest bit good. Hell, he couldn't even see how he was going to recover from this now...
But he knew he would.
"Thanks. I'm glad I have you," he said quietly, leaning in to kiss her softly. He was already starting to calm for now. He wasn't nearly as okay as he was when he woke up this morning, but he knew that with Lee by his side, he'd be okay eventually.
Sometimes Sinclaire had to question his colleagues, if he was gracious enough to call them that. Coworkers wasn't an appropriate term, because he wasn't sure how much work many of them actually did. (Granted, he himself tended to get behind on paperwork, but he wasn't paid for his writing skills. The main part of his job, he got done. That was his job, after all.) This was an important meeting, and people were shuffling in at the last minute; not the least bit professional.
However, the woman across from him? She was someone he could almost care to talk to. And it was a good thing too, because talking is just what they were doing. Though neither of them seemed to be very big on conversation. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, it meant they'd get right to the point, and small-talk wasn't anywhere near the top of Sinclaire's priority list. In fact...it was more near the bottom.
"If I had the choice, I'd honestly like to stay around here," he said after a moment of thought. "I like traveling, and I'll go wherever I'm sent, because hell, that's what I'm paid for. But after being all up and down this mass of land...it'd be nice to keep shit from hitting the fan closer to home," he spoke thoughtfully, weighing each word.
"But again, where they tall me to go, I'll go. And I'll keep going until they give me the boot or put me in the ground."
Sinclaire heard the commotion as he made his way down the hall. Sounded like gunfire. And voices. From what he could tell, the commotion was very close. Just down the hall as he opened the door and briskly made his way down the hall as the big man reached for the gun on his--
Crap. He left his gun back in the office, so all he had on him were his phone and a tactical knife. But he was still a badass in a beanie, so that was going for him, right? He drew the knife, luckily it was weighted enough so he could throw it if need be. Made for range or hand-to-hand.
When he rounded the corner, he saw a small woman, but he didn't have time to take in the sight as there was suddenly a man flying right at gut level. He reacted quickly, but not quickly enough as he moved to catch it. The man hit his midsection, but aside from staggering back a little thanks to physics, he didn't flinch. She may have been some sort of psychic, but he had an edge of his own. It would really be an instance of mind versus matter.
He had managed to grip the man after impact, but he merely tossed him aside, his body impacting against the wall with a sickening thud as Sinclaire pulled the tactical knife from his belt and took a stance. He saw the gun, but he quickly rushed in, attempting to tackle her before she could fire the gun. Even still...his arm had just recently healed from the last time he'd taken a bullet.
Hell, he probably had to maintain a bullet wound at all times, considering how on his paperwork, almost every form included some type of wound he'd sustained.
Sinclaire had managed to take out a good few with his throwing knives, though one of them was merely wounded. He swore as he reached onto his belt to find he was out of throwing knives, so he grabbed his combat knives again, one in each hand as he prepared to keep fighting. He noticed one of them rushing him, but he was taken out, apparently by his new friend partner. Now, from what he could tell, there were six of them left, and two of them were heading his way.
As he approached them, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. His uniform was darker in color as blood soaked through from his wounded arm. Suddenly, the solder saw red, and he charged the two men like a bull charging a matador-though in reality a bull may have been more forgiving. The first guy he met with an elbow to the side of the head before slicing the midsection with his knife, and then he met the other with a boot to the chest.
His strikes were angry, yet focused. They weren't wild or reckless, but he was giving them everything he had. The first guy he finished quickly, but for the second, he put his knives back on his belt, clenching his fists and taking a stance. Then, he rushed in, taking him down with a basic tackle, then pummeled the poor sap until he wasn't moving anymore. Then, once standing hp, he cracked his neck and walked over to go check on Lenna.
Knowing that she wasn't going anywhere made him feel better. Though he hated to admit it, Blaine was going to need all the help he could get to make it through this. He watched her doctor up his hand--but he still couldn't believe he did that. How could he have been such a freaking idiot? He knew the guy couldn't be here, and yet...in his mind....the guy was everywhere. Around every corner. Waiting to finish him off.
"That could help, actually. Let Skye know she's got the place to herself...I just..." he sighed, shaking his head for a moment. "I don't want to be alone for awhile, I think," he said, still only slightly shaking.
He took a few deep breaths as she worked on him. His focus was steadily coming back, albeit more slowly than he liked. Maybe he was going to be okay after all. But he also knew it would likely take awhile. Then again...the city was big. What were the odds of running into this guy again, right?
He chuckled softly as he lay there with his eyes closed; to be honest, the floor was quite uncomfortable, but he really didn't mind right now. It was sure to be hell on his back, but since he wasn't going to have to worry about that for long, did it really matter?
"It was definitely worth it..." he breathed softly, his eyes opening to look over at her. He thought a moment at her question, rubbing his chin as he thought. "I think we're good, actually," he finally said, still not exactly moving to get up. He was just enjoying the moment.
Blaine was winded, his heart was still beating in his chest, and to be honest...he was slightly sore as he lay on the floor, looking up at the ceiling. He relaxed, shuddering more at the light touches.
"That was amazing," he breathed. It was better with the ability to feel, after all. "I'm feeling...well, sore. Stiff. Tired. That, I'd have to get used to," he added, looking over at her with a small smile. Though he did like his mutation, this little break from it was nice.
Ugh...Paperwork. Sinclaire found himself at a desk, filling out stack after stack of the needless, stupid, pointless, tedious nonsense. Hell, half of these reports were for missions he'd completed forever ago. He started with the South America mission he'd recently completed with that Lenna chick. She probably already had hers turned in. Ugh...
He stared down at the six missions worth of paperwork; at least they were routine. Well...most of them. Of the six, there was that one incident in Chihuahua, Mexico...but he'd have to sort out details with that one. It'd be last.
He was interrupted when his phone went off. Pulling it out of his pocket, he answered the phone. "Sinclaire. I'm in the building, yeah. Paperwork. Lab disturbance, your guys couldn't handle it. I'm on it."
Hanging up, he stood up and nonchalantly vaulted over the desk, and out the door, shutting the door behind him. He was actually a little nicer than usual since he hadn't planned on any action today. But this was still a nice surprise. He made his way down the stairs and to the lab building, toward the holding area.
When he got there, it seemed quiet enough. He made his way down the hall, ready for anything.
Blaine closed his eyes, taking in the sensations. Where he normally never broke eye contact, and used all of his senses, this time was different. He focused only on touch, because he'd likely never get to do this again. Not this way, anyway. Then, she pulled away from the kiss, and he was slightly disappointed.
But then she spoke and he shook his head. "I will, but I doubt it," he murmured, before leaning in and kissing her again.
