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.
"Nah, thanks," he said, looking down at his empty beer for a second.
"Yeah, I know. Usually the most I share about myself is the story of my failed fighting career." He gave a slight shrug before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. Taking out a few bills, he paid her for the beer.
"Well, unless you need anything, I guess I'll see you tomorrow night. Much as I'd love to talk all night, I guess you have work to do." He gave a slight chuckle as he stood to his feet.
She may have only nodded, but there was a lot in that nod. She understood, really understood. More than anyone he had ever met before. Sometimes, it was nice just knowing he wasn't alone in the world. Everyone was born with their own curse, but sometimes, they were similar enough to provide understanding, or just the comfort of having someone who remotely knows what he was going through.
"Yeah, that's true. People never seem to start you on interview day, anyway," he said with a dry laugh, finishing off his beer and setting the empty bottle on the counter. He was done drinking for the evening; he had a strict way of doing things when he drank. When he wasn't home, he stopped at one beer, nothing more.
"Thanks for the job. And just...listening," he said after a moment.
"It's a little of both, to be sure. It's nice to be able to power through things that would incapacitate most people, though," he mused. "But at the same time, I've missed out on a lot of key moments; things other people take for granted." He let his statement stand there. On the one hand, he really didn't care about the physical aspect of things, but at the same time, his mutation really decided that for him; he really didn't have a say in the matter.
"Tomorrow, I can manage," he said with a smirk. "If I'd have known it was going to go this well, I'd have gotten a water." He gave a slight chuckle, still sipping on his beer on occasion. He was going to make it last, and he wasn't going to go through that many. After all, he didn't get drunk around people, and on top of that, he sure wasn't going to do it at his new place of work.
He bit his lip as she spoke, thinking on his own life after his mutation had appeared. Sure, he couldn't feel physically, but the emotion was just as heavy as ever. "I was kept in school. I generally wasn't bullied before, but...once my..." he had to think about his word choice, "gift...surfaced, it got bad. Things kids would usually never consider, they did to me, because hey, he can't feel it anyway. The school was silent on the matter as well, because it was a mutant being bullied. No pain, no foul, I guess." Normally, Blaine wasn't this open about his mutation, but the few people in the bar weren't paying attention, and she seemed to understand at least a bit of where he was coming from. He took a sip of his beer.
"Lee, huh? I like it." He gave a nod, then his smile came back when she told him he was hired. "Great, when can I start?"
Okay, for one she wasn't helping. And two, what the hell was she doing in his head? How the hell did she get there? Well...at least he seemed to have a fan. He tried to block her out and focus on the fight. But that was a lot easier when it was a person in the crowd and not his head.
Don't die. That was reassuring. At least he was destined for a painless death no matter what.
He pulled the guy in, giving him a sharp knee to the stomach. But as the guy bent over, he used the momentum to shoulder rush Blaine in the chest and then grab him, squeezing. He heard something cracking, but thankfully felt nothing as he rained blows on Rod's head, back, and shoulders.
Then, he must have hesitated, because before he knew it, a large fist connected with the side of his head, and he was out cold, Rod dropped Blaine onto the pavement, which he hit with a sickening thud as the world around him faded for just a little while. He faintly heard the ding of the bell, signifying his loss.
He listened, sipping thoughtfully on his beer. "Interesting," he said. "I was taken to doctors; at first I was diagnosed with something called idiopathic neuropathy, but then it got...extreme, so they decided I was a mutant. My family still cared for me, but at the same time...I could tell they were scared of me. I mean look at me, I'm a ****ing teddy bear," he gave a dry chuckle at his joke.
He took another sip of beer. "I don't think I ever got your name, though," he said after a moment.
"After twenty four years, I've gotten used to it" he said with a smile. "I was twelve. Locker slammed on my hand and broke it, bad. I didn't even notice until other kids and teachers started panicking. After that...sensation went away little by little." He paused, biting his lip a little.
He nodded as she spoke. "I understand, especially in today's climate. Those sources are pretty reliable; they've all had me more than once," he said, looking at her. He wasn't sure what else to say, so he stopped and thought a moment.
"Hey...once this is over, think I can get a beer?" he asked with a sly smile.
He froze when he heard the voice in his head, and caught a blow right under the eye, it pushed him back, and he saw stars for a second, but his face remained just as stoic, aside from the...New England chick that seemed to inhabit his head. He came back, firing with a kick to the gut to set up for a massive uppercut which staggered the guy.
Then, he went low, hitting the guy's legs and attempting a take-down. It worked, and the guy hit the ground with a loud thud! Then, he was on top of the guy, prepared to deliver punches, but he was thrown off easily as the guy clambered to his feet.
"Now this is what I'm talkin' about. Let's dance, big guy..." He murmured, spitting a little blood on the ground. He landed a few more punches to the face before taking a punch to the stomach. His breath caught in his throat a little, but that was all. "You're gonna leave a pretty streak on the pavement," he taunted with a smirk.
He looked up as she asked about his mutation. "I can't physically feel. Not the clothes on my back, the barstool under me, or even the wind on my face. Somebody could come up behind me right now and hit me in the back of the head. Might knock me out, of course, but I wouldn't even notice." He gave a slightly nervous laugh.
"In my fighting days, they called me Painless Blaine," he said after a pause, opting not to tell her about his extracurricular fighting. "But after my mutation became common knowledge, they said I was a cheat, even though I can't exactly help this." He gave a slightly disgruntled sigh.
He'd noticed her frown, but he didn't quite know what to think of it. Was it at his story, or because he was a mutant? Only time would tell, he guessed.
Blaine stared down his opponent, Rod "the Bod." What a stupid name. If he could fight as well as he could pick a nickname, Blaine figured this guy would probably go down in one punch.
"Too easy..." he murmured under his breath.
DING DING!
The bell rang, and Painkiller sprang into action, taking a stance with his fists in front of his face, and his feet constantly moving. Though in all honesty, he wasn't really protecting his face--no real need to. This position just made it easier for him to land a hit. He approached his opponent and then...he was suddenly bigger....the same height, but he was now thicker and more muscle. Probably close to a hundred pounds heavier.
"Oooooh ****" Blaine murmured, but at the same time an evil smile crossed his face. He ducked a punch before giving a few of his own to the midsection. He caught a kick to the ribs, but he didn't flinch as he stood face to face with the guy, trading punches. Every now and then, Blaine would sidestep and attack from a different angle, then aiming a kick for the back of Rod's left knee.
So he got bigger. That just meant he was harder to miss.
"It's not for everybody, but I've loved it, so I stick with it," he replied. "And prepared isn't a bad thing, like the fire extinguisher," he said with a chuckle, then she asked about a search.
"You might find a couple of articles dated about thirteen years ago. I said I was an MMA fighter, but I never really made it big. The night I was being scouted, my arm snapped in two during a fight; I didn't even flinch, and went on to win by knockout." He sighed, then decided to tell the rest of the story. "I'd managed to keep my mutation hidden for years, but...that was the day it came to light in front of God and everybody. See...I'm a mutant. I can't feel." He looked down at the bar. This was usually the part where the door slammed in his face.
"I know several holds. When I would fight, I would be more comfortable standing and trading punches, but let's be honest here," he gave a small smile, "Trading punches doesn't exactly get rowdy people out, do they?" He paused for a moment as she asked her next question.
"Depends on the venue. Some places I don't have much trouble, but other places are more prone to rowdy patrons. I also train at the gym a couple times a week. Gotta keep in top condition after all." He sat on a stool as he spoke, sort of making himself comfortable, but not too comfortable. After all, he was still trying to make a good impression. It'd be nice to work for one person and one person only, after all.
Okay, that was pretty impressive, as noted by the amused grin plastered on Blaine's face. "That's one hell of a power," he said with a nod. "There are plenty of mutants around, but I can't say I've met any worth mentioning yet," he replied as he crossed his arms.
Then, he pulled a pencil and scrap of paper out of his inside jacket pocket, scribbling his name 'Blaine "Painkiller" Sinclaire' and his number on it and handed it to the guy. "If you need a reference or anything, feel free to put my name down."
"I already work freelance as a bouncer around the city, but that's sort of a day by day kind of thing. Was looking for something a little more consistent," he said casually, yet politely; his way of letting her know he had experience. "As far as skills, I know how to diffuse a situation--my size and demeanor is on my side there. Oh, and this. References." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a slip of paper with a few different bars and clubs with their owners' names and contact information.
He paused for a moment, not sure whether or not to let on about his mutation just yet--after all, some people were still iffy on that nowadays, and he had been booted out of a career because of his mutation before.
"Also...if things go sideways, I am a skilled mixed martial artist, but that's not something I tend to rely on while on the clock. It's like a fire extinguisher; you don't want to have to use it, but you keep one hanging around just in case everything catches fire." He let his eyes meet hers as he awaited a response, his expression neutral.
