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.
"I know...That's why I play the tough guy," he murmured, looking down at her hand on his wrist. He set the coffee cup on the table before moving his hand so that it was--somewhat awkwardly--holding hers. Once again, he just looked at it, both focusing on not hurting her and trying his best to imagine what it must have felt like.
"Still, I couldn't imagine doing it once, much less doing it over and over," he murmured. Then, he looked over at her, thinking about her next question. "To my knowledge? None. But that didn't make it hurt any less. Hell, even mutants seem to think I'm some sort of weirdo," he murmured, using his free hand to drink the rest of his coffee.
Though it did sort of strike him odd that he was sitting on his couch and holding hands with his boss. Granted, it was helping. As long as he looked down and remembered he was doing it.
He stared into his coffee as he clung to every word she said; once again she understood where he was sure she wouldn't. When she finished, he took a deep breath followed by a gulp of coffee. "That's what I'm afraid of," he admitted so quietly his voice was almost a whisper, but then he found his confidence to continue. "Getting hurt isn't something I do...well, not supposed to do."
He imagined how silly he must have looked; big shirtless tough guy, hands shaking while holding a cup of coffee, spilling his guts. "The last time I put myself out there, I was blackballed by an entire nation," he said after a long silence. "And that was just for money. I just...I don't know." He gave another sigh, this time looking over at her again; and again he wondered how weak he must have looked.
Blaine looked at her as she spoke; for some reason, her words seemed to ring true enough. Maybe it was because she'd endured a similar struggle, which was something he'd never really found before. Even if the conversation was cutting deep into his soul, he felt safe here. And at the same time, completely vulnerable.
"I think I understand that, but at the same time, there are ways a relationship with me would never be...normal. And how would I know if someone with that level of patience even exist?" He looked away again, hoping she'd get the deeper meaning in his words, and yet, instead of looking at the ceiling again, he took a sip of coffee, and his eyes focused on that. Every detail on the cup, the bits of steam rising from the liquid inside that was the only way he knew it was hot.
"There are areas where I'm sure I live in my own world. That no one else would ever understand," he finally said quietly."But thanks for trying," he whispered with a smile, turning back to his coffee and taking a few more sips, savoring the flavor.
He opened an eye to look at her as she opened up to him, and it got him thinking. But even then it made his expression sink.
"That sounds awful, but...you did find someone, " he murmured. "I keep my emotions close because that's all I have to give... " he said after a pause.
"I'd had a few brief relationships when I was younger. They didn't last long at all. My only guess is I was a big joke to them after that. When your hand touched mine earlier...I tried to feel it. Tried to imagine what it was like...but all I can do is stare and imagine.. " He stood up after this, going into the kitchen and hitting a button on hos coffee maker. When he came back, he had a mug full.
Sitting back down, he sipped on it. "Even if I did find someone...I'd never know what it's like to hold them, to simply be with them. Despite being right there, they may as well be across the ****ing room... So how would that make me feel less empty? Like I said, maybe I was born to be the loner..."
He sighed, the door had been opened, so he may as well step inside, so to speak.
"What you said earlier. About missing out by going it alone. Alone is all I know; frankly it's all I care to know."
Then he gave a dry, almost bitter laugh. "I haven't figured out a damn thing," he said as he tossed back the rest of his beer and set the empty bottle on the table. "What would it even be like, loving somebody like me?" he asked, looking at her. "I just don't think it's for me. I feel like it can't be. When whoever or whatever is out there made me, relationships were not in the picture." He sighed as leaned his head back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling, a fight still playing on the televison, at least preventing an awkward silence.
"Heh, yeah. Funny how it changes perspective, " he mused. When she asked about a beer, he motioned to the kitchen.
"Help yourself. " Then, he sat on the couch with the remainder of his beer. In a moment, she was sitting next to him with a beer of her own.
"Oh, I'm fine. Didn't feel a thing, " he said with a laugh before getting serious again.
"Yeah. Just been thinking about things I haven't seen a need to before. Like I said earlier, my perspective may be worlds different from...well....everyone." He looked down at his quarter of a beer, thinking.
He nodded again, then chuckled at her statement about the tattoos. "I guess I can't blame you there; My tattoo artist told me I was his dream canvas," he said lightly. "Yeah, opening up's not usually something I do." he stopped there, then she asked if she could come in and warm up. Oh right! That was a thing people had to deal with, wasn't it? He blushed lightly, remembering this little detail, and then stepped aside so she could come in.
"Oh, right. Come on in. Help yourself to whatever you like," he said, closing the door behind her, but not locking it. There was a total of five different locks on the door, and the apartment was nice. Nothing fancy, but it definitely wasn't bottom-of-the-food chain. The living room was a decent size, with a couch and a large TV on the wall, and a desk against the back wall, and a chair in front of the window, overlooking the city. On the desk were books, newspaper clippings, and a stack of spiral notebooks--sketchbooks.
The kitchen was just off of the back of the living area, and the bathroom was near the door. On the other side of the room was a door leading to a small yet cozy bedroom, but that door was closed. The apartment was pretty well organized, even the books and clippings on the desk were stacked in an orderly fashion.
He nodded when she told him she wasn't as fragile as she looked. "Anything short of full strength usually requires focus. I have trouble telling how much strength I'm putting into something; I guess that's another reason I like fighting. Once the bell rings...I don't have to worry about that." Having to explain these things really made Blaine realize just how different he was; his mutation didn't just affect his physical feeling, but it influenced his mental state, his routine, and his whole way of life.
...Wait...she did all of this, going all this way out just to make sure he had his jacket? It made him smile a little more; people usually didn't care that much. Or maybe they just figured he didn't need a jacket since he didn't feel. But even still, it made him feel...special?
"You always this sweet, or is it just for the guys who get hurt?" he teased lightly.
He blinked again; yeah, his boss showing up at his apartment was shocking, but what was even more shocking was that it was just because he forgot his jacket? He didn't notice, but his lips had curled into a soft smile as he reached out and took the leather jacket from her, again doing his best to be gentle.
"I uh....thanks. You didn't have to come all this way just to give me this," he said, not an ounce of harshness in his voice. "But I appreciate you looking out for me." Then, he had a thought. "How far away do you live? Do you need anything?" He could understand if she wasn't that far, but if she was out of her way, then he felt he had to make it up to her, somehow.
To Blaine, the 45 minute walk home was nothing, even though people thought he was crazy. But to him, it didn't really matter, because the only effect it had on him was he had less energy. Once home, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, taking off his shirt and sitting on the couch with a beer and turning on the TV. Some fight was on, but he wasn't really watching it, he was mostly just thinking about Lee's words that night, how much they'd shared. She had him wondering if he was even capable of love, of having someone. To be honest, he didn't think so.
He wasn't home for a half an hour when there was a knock on his door. He set his second beer down and walked over, unlocking the several locks--which took a few moments--and then opening the door. And there was....Lee?!? He blinked a few times, wondering what she was doing there, but not outright asking. "Uh, hey," he said, "Everything alright?" Yeah, it was lame, but that was the nicest way he knew how to say it. And he did figure something was up if she was showing up on his doorstep.
He gave a slow nod. "Yeah...that's a thought that scares me. I could bleed out and be none the wiser." He shook his head at the thought. But then he smiled.
"Yeah, but you must've seen some **** to keep that calm," he commented, then looked around.
"Anyway, I'll see you next time. Have a good night. With that, he turned to leave, not looking down to realize he had on just his tee shirt, and he'd left his jacket in the back.
Blaine was thankful for a peaceful night, but after earlier who would have tried anything? After awhile, he saw Lee reemerge, but he couldn't get to where he could talk to her.
The rest of the night dragged on, but eventually, people had left and things were starting to die down for the evening. Then, Blaine sought out Lee, and he walked over to her. "Hey, you need anything else before I leave? " he asked, then he had a thought. "Also...I've never seen anyone so calm while patching my wounds. How were you so relaxed through all that?" He paused, folding his bare arms across his chest.
He made his way back to the bar quietly, thinking over what had happened back there. Sometimes he wondered what it was like to those who made any kind of physical contact with him; was it like touching a brick wall, or a statue, that couldn't react? Sure, it helped in a fight, but it had very little social value.
"....I'd go with love again." Her words echoed in his head, but was he even capable of love? Sure he was emotion-driven, deep down, but he kept those close to his chest. And while he loved art and fighting, and a good plate of hot wings, could he love someone ? What was love without feeling, anyway?
He pushed those thoughts to the back ofbhis mind and found his spot against the wall, occasionally greeted with awe by someone who had seen the ordeal with the bottle. He'd acknowledge it, but stay vigilant as he continued his shift. But his mind still wandered back to those five simple words.
He stared at her hand resting on top of his, focusing on everything from how it was lying to the details in their hands. "It's easy to be alone when you can't feel anybody there," he murmured. A part of him wondered what led him to let this conversation get as deep as it had, what made him let his guard down like that. He was getting into things he'd never told anyone, and yet...maybe it was time to let it all out.
"I think maybe I was meant to tough this out on my own...If I don't have anyone, then I can't lose them," he said sadly, shaking his head a little, then he took a breath.
"I think maybe I should get back to work," he said after a moment. Then, he very carefully and deliberately pulled his hand away before starting to walk out of the door.
He looked over at her. "You don't remember where you live?" he asked, more concerned than aggravated. But of course she didn't know. Or at least didn't remember. Well, this was turning into quite the night, but he definitely wasn't about to let this girl roam the city drunk this late. It may have been her fault he got his ass kicked, but Blaine wasn't the type of guy who was out for revenge like that. In fact, he blamed himself for not being able to power through that.
He bit his lip. "Okay, look. I'm taking you for a cup of coffee. Maybe that'll refresh your memory. And if you don't remember, you need to either contact someone or crash on my couch for the night. You may have had a hand in my losing, but I'll be damned if I'm the reason you get hurt out here," he said sternly as he started walking down the street again.
