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.
He listened quietly as she spoke, hanging onto what she said. Like him, Lee had also been through a lot, and though her story wasn't the same, it was similar enough to where she'd at least have an idea what it was like. He nodded, looking at her hand as it rested next to his. On the surface, her hand was small, especially compared to his. His knuckles were scarred from all the hitting they'd done over the past two decades, while hers were damn near perfect.
"Okay, so maybe you're the closest anyone can get to understanding," he murmured. Carefully, he slid his hand over so that it was resting on hers. He was using a lot of focus and effort as he did this, because he didn't want to put any pressure on it. After a moment, he slid it back to its original position. "Sometimes I wish it was only pain I couldn't feel. Even then, when I think about it, I probably feel more pain than anyone." He paused at his little revelation. He didn't know if she'd catch what he meant, but to him it was like a light-bulb went off.
He chuckled at her answer, but the smile faded as she continued and he thought some things over. "I don't think you do," he said, maybe a little harsher than he intended. Then, he turned to the door, but didn't walk out.
Blaine put his hand on the door frame, staring at his hand against the wooden structure. Of course he couldn't feel it. He gave a long sigh. "I didn't mean it like that. I just...sometimes I think about things like this. Being able to feel. What eating would be like if I could pick up temperature and texture, not just flavor...I'm an isolated guy, but a lot of my lifestyle was chosen for me," he explained, but he didn't turn to look at her. He kept his eyes fixed on his hand.
"From what I understand, my sense of taste is...different. I get flavor, but temperature and texture are lost to me. So...suffice it to say I'm not exactly a connoisseur or a food critic."
After awhile, a middle aged woman came out and motioned Blaine to the back, and Blaine motioned for Gwen to come with. Once in the back room, the woman spoke. "Good to see you, again, Blaine, though I really wish you'd drop by just to say hi every once in awhile."
"Sorry, Marge," he said, draping his jacket and tank top over a chair. "I heard my something around my ribs crack, so I thought you better look at it."
"I know, Honey. Well, let me take care of that...Yep..." she said as she took a look, without even touching it. "You've got a minor fracture. Not much I can do for a rib, but....I can bandage it, and tell you to be careful, but after that you're on your own."
Blaine nodded as she bandaged him up, and he put his shirt and jacket back on, and turned to Gwen. "Okay...where do you live?" he asked her.
Blaine caught the shirt, though it was pretty awkward. He grabbed it, but then got his fingers tangled up in the fabric. Finally, he freed himself before pulling it on. He'd noticed the delay, and the blush, though he really didn't understand it. Sure, it happened quite a bit when he was shirtless, but...maybe it was the lack of feeling that sort of made things like that pointless to him. "You okay?" he asked, once he was finished getting dressed, and he tossed the cut shirt in the trash.
"Thanks for the help. There's no way I can do this kinda stuff myself. Not feeling anything is sort of a curse as much as it is a blessing, when you think about it..." he let his voice trail off as he thought of the things he'd missed out on. Some of them, like the pain of a broken bone, a third degree burn, or even a simple headache, were a plus. But the simpler sweeter things were just as foreign to him.
He led her out of the parking garage, and down the street, remaining mostly silent. He was usually in a sour mood after losing, but he didn't hold any harsh feelings toward Gwen. He really believed it was an accident, and he also didn't take well to a drunk girl wandering the shady side of town all alone. "What gave it away?" he said with a slight edge of humor to his voice. "Honestly...I don't feel anything. No pain, no temperature, I can't even feel your hand right now. I figured at an early age that it'd make me one hell of a fighter. And you know what?" he looked over at her and winked, "I was right."
They walked a few blocks, before he turned onto another street and into a small clinic. He walked into the door and up to the desk, where a young woman was sitting. "Hey there, Blaine. You know the drill. Sign in and Marge'll get right to you." He let go of Gwen's hand and signed the paperwork before sitting down, keeping an eye on his new...friend.
Blaine took the bills, albeit slowly as he made sure he had a grip on every one of them, and then promptly put them back in her hand, attempting to gently clasp her hand around the bills without hurting her. "I said don't worry about it. We've managed big losses before, we can do it again. Besides, I played it smart and only bet the money I won from other bets on myself."
He shook her hand, trying not to squeeze too hard. "It was probably the booze," he said dryly before motioning her to follow him. "Let's get outta here. And you're in no shape to go out alone, so you're with me for awhile. I can take ya home, but I gotta get this rib looked at first," he instructed; it was more of a command than a suggestion, and he was already in sort of a gruff mood.
He nodded, looking at her. "The way the world treats us, I'd hazard a guess that every mutant is living a pretty ****ed up life. Some are hiding, afraid to show their gifts. Others get weird stares every day because they can't hide. Others are bullied or have been bullied, and damn if all of us don't suffer from some sort of disdain or ostracism simply because of something we can't even control. Maybe fighting is also my way of coping with this; especially when it's me and another mutant. Maybe beating the hell out of each other is barbaric, but...in a sense, it's still therapy, ain't it?" He shrugged, pushing himself to his feet and grabbing his shirt--oh, right.
He held the cut fabric in his hand and gave a chuckle. "So I'm thinking at some point I may need another one of these," he said with another laugh, looking back at Lee.
He thought as she said she didn't understand; he chewed his lip a little as he tried to put it into words.
"To me, it was a practical way to use my newfound mutation. I'm the only mutant in my family, to my knowledge. Making it to the professional level would have given a mutant role model. But then...once I was ousted...I couldn't stop."
He looked sad now, an almost forlorn expression on his face. Sometimes he wished things had been different.
He nodded, biting his lip as he thought it over. And then she apologized. Truly, it was a lot to process. Though the feeling was gone again, it was fresh on his mind: The sharp pain in his chest, the dull throbbing of the bruise on his face. The faint beating of his heart, the cool caress of the breeze, his hair faintly tickling hos face, and the almost bitter bite to the air. In a way, it was all welcome.
"Don't apologize. It was...rather welcome. I missed what the breeze felt like...and my hair. That was worth the pain, honestly." A faint smile crossed his face as he began to chuckle warmly.
"There are rules, and an official. Very few have bad untentions. Most of it is people--humans and mutants alike who need to blow off steam, or just...couldn't make it in the legit business." People like me...
His gaze averted a bit, but then focused back on Lee. "After each fight, my trainer looks me over. If anything seems out of place, I go to the clinic and Marge patches me up."
He bit his lip a moment. "When I was blackballed, my dream was ripped from my hands. Just like that. This is the closest I can get. But even then...I don't think I'll be fighting much longer. I mean...feeling or not, the fact stands...I'm not twenty-five anymore...But at the same time, I don't know what I'd do with myself."
He let out a long, hard sigh. There it was. He was caught now, though he was also reminded why he opted not to share too much. He had to admit he felt safe here, with Lee. Maybe too safe. After all, it'd only been a week and here he was blabbing all his secrets--well most of them.
"Let's say...I didn't exactly hang my gloves up, he said quietly, his tone letting on that his activities weren't exactly sanctioned.
"Not really," he said lightly as he straightened up. Though he did remember meeting an adapted the next day. That was ouch.
"I think I just had an unlucky night. Confidence got the best of me," he said sadly. "He looked easy. Then the bell rang and he gained about a hundred pounds... " He froze. ****!!! He knew he'd said too much, but it was too late now.
Already, he could tell Lee cared a lot more than his previous employers. Most of them figured no pain meant no problem. Maybe it was because she was a fellow mutant, but she seemed to understand.
"Should be pretty straightforward, but I'd appreciate that," he replied sincerely. And then she asked about his ribs...he adjusted himself in his chair to look her in the eye.
"I had some trouble with a guy who could alter his own body mass. Guy got me in a bear hug and I heard it crack." He was telling the truth, just leaving out some details.
"....Then, one swift blow to the jaw and I was being scraped off the floor.... " His expression soured, but he was unable to notice his face turning red with shame.
He smiled as she was looking at him, and he rose to a full sitting position. "There's a reason I got into fighting, besides the obvious. An overlooked side effect of my ability is that I lack the ability to pull my punches. When I fight--would fight," he caught himself, "I'd rather it be against someone with the training to take it, because the only way I know I'm hitting hard enough, is to give every hit everything I've got. Also why I use grapples on the drunks; even then I have a strong grip so I know I've got hold of 'em."
His voice was dark, but at the same time, almost sad. "Good. All I seem to attract are fights. And thanks for patching me up." He gave her a warm smile, already having opened up more than he normally would to anyone, but Lee seemed to understand. She seemed to care.
"It would have, but I like to keep my stories genuine," he said with a dry chuckle, "Most of 'em seem a bit far fetched anyway." He moved his hand as he was told, and had to chuckle as he imagined how this must have looked: petite woman picking glass out of a large, muscular guy's hair. Granted, there was no way he could do this himself. He'd never find them all, and what he did find, he'd probably just end up pushing deeper.
"I think it's just human nature to push the limits of things they don't understand," he commented.
He wished he could look at her, but he didn't think she was done yet, so he held perfectly still. "Well, you'd have an easier time kicking my ass than most," he replied with a smirk. "Well, for one, you're my boss. Also, I've never hit a woman, and that's not something I plan to start anytime soon. So...I'm bound to go down sometime, right?"
