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 shuddered more at her little touches, almost as if little jolts of electricity were running up and down his arms, making those little hairs stand on end. The sensation really was almost overwhelming. Almost. But it was good. Very good.
Feeling her hand on his neck brought more of those little jolts of electricity across his skin as he smiled into the kiss. "I could get used to this," he murmured. "I mean, I wouldn't trade my mutation for anything, but...it's nice to actually be able to feel you," he said, his fingers dancing along the skin of her back under her shirt.
He watched as she seemed to intently listen to his plan. And then promptly ignore it. Alright, it seemed they were going head on into the heat of things together. Not that he had a problem with rushing in. It'd be more challenging, but....often that was more fun. He sheathed his combat knives as he ran behind her. He had other tricks on his belt, however.
As they focused on her, one of the other guys found out first-hand how good the large mutant was with a throwing knife. Too bad he'd never live to tell about it.
He was just behind Lenna, supporting her with throwing knives added liberally as needed. Some of them made their mark, others were too close to the force field, but luckily a reflected knife wasn't as bad as a bullet.
Speaking of bullets, the big man didn't even notice his left arm bleeding as he barreled towards his targets. Maybe it was for the best that he didn't notice. If he did, he probably wouldn't leave anyone alive for Lenna to kill.
Sometimes, there was no time to scout, no time to plan ahead, no time to play it safe. For Blaine, today was one of those times. The guy was just standing there, like he was waiting in line at the grocery store or something. So Blaine rushed in, connecting with a massive right hook to the man's jaw, but he didn't even flinch. Smirking, the other man delivered a punch to Blaine's gut, which knocked the wind out of him, but aside from that, he didn't flinch either. So Blaine followed up with a midsection-targeted punch of his own, only for the guy to respond with a sharp knee to the ribs.
And then things picked up. The two nearly identical men squared off, intensity gradually building as they traded punches and kicks. Neither man showed pain, because neither man felt it.
"Get it now? I can't feel either." As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Blaine punched him in it, followed by a punch to the nose, which the man responded to with mirroring blows of his own. The two men circled each other as a crowd began to form around them; people had stopped working out to watch this, and others had even begun live-streaming the action. Back and forth the strikes came, with neither man making headway, when suddenly Blaine shifted gears, charging in and grabbing the man's legs, pulling them out from under him in a seamless take-down. Then, Blaine mounted him and started pummeling him with punches and forearms.
But the other man rolled with it, and somehow Blaine found himself on the bottom, in a defensive position, but that was just fine. He rolled as well, only he grabbed his opponent's arm, transitioning into a very brief armlock before standing to his feet. It was just a means to an end.
Time passed as the men traded punches, and then they transitioned to grappling and other holds. But again, neither man quite got the upper hand on the other. People came and went, but the live-streaming continued, likely from more than one source. The sun began to set, and both men were starting to grow tired.
Finally, Blaine saw an opening, taking advantage as he took the other man down, then rolled into a kimura lock, much like the one that had snapped his own arm.
"Ha! You think this will work? Or did you forget...I can't feel. Just because this is the move that ended your career...." Blaine froze for a split second, but it was enough. The guy got up, locking him in a--technically illegal--chokehold before whispering in his ear. "This is what makes me better....you hold back. Even though I can't feel either...you kept the safety on. Me though? I don't have a safety. Your emotion makes you weak..."
Blaine struggled against the hold, but it tightened, and though he felt nothing, he could hear his breath growing more desperate, his heart beat no longer pounded in his ears as the adrenaline started to wear off and the circulation was restricted. And then, suddenly, he was released, glorious air returning to his lungs.
And then there was a dull-sounding thud as Blaine hit the mat.
"Get used to looking up at me from above. Because as long as you hold back, you'll never dream of beating me."
Blaine then found himself staring at the ceiling, but not for long, as it slowly faded to black and he lost consciousness, lying on the mat. His face was bruised, nose and mouth were bleeding, and he had some minor damage to his ribs. His face was red, but the thing that was the most broken....
Was his pride. No one even came to check on him. The live-stream ended with a shot of his crumpled body on the mat of the ring.
Sinclaire was no better off, except that he actually walked out of the building of his own free will. When Blaine woke up, he was at his favorite clinic; some good Samaritan had dropped him off.
But it wasn't his body that had been most damaged...
Blaine had gotten...an email. He never got emails...but here he was. And it was for some party thing. Great. He hated parties. He planned on just ignoring it, going about his day, maybe spend the time with Lee instead, but...it wasn't long after that he got a call. Double great. Well, if Lee wanted to go, then he guessed he was going. Besides, he could always hang around her in lieu of mingling, right? Or maybe he'd find someone worth talking to. Even still, Lee was the reason he found the only suit he owned in his closet. It wasn't very trendy, but it was close enough. Truth be told, he only had it because of his time as a bodyguard, and from working the more...upstanding clubs.
The walk to Lee's went smoothly, though he did get what grumbling he had to do out of his system before he got there. And since it was a pretty long walk, that gave him plenty of time. When he got to Lee's...she was absolutely stunning. So stunning, he wanted to go out even less now. But alas, he did anyway, and they got going.
If the walk to Lee's went smoothly, then the walk to Inferno went smoother, if only because he had company this time. Once they got there, the big man did the very gentlemanly thing and held the door open for her before looping his arm in hers and walking inside. Despite how it looked, he'd let Lee take the lead.
And thankfully, they went straight for the drinks. Thank God, or whoever the hell was out there. Since today was fancier, he went for a bourbon instead of his usual beer. Sipping his drink, he looked over at his drop dead gorgeous date with a smile.
This was almost too much. Every light touch sent a shiver up his spine. Blaine heard the familiar sound of the TV being turned up, and it made him smile. Though this would be nothing like any of the other times they'd been together. Her hands on his chest made him breathe a contented sigh as his arms wrapped around her and they kissed.
His hands slid under her shirt, rubbing her back. But this time, it was slower, gentler motions. He was actually feeling her back. He could feel her body against his, and this was something he wanted to remember. Because god knew if he would ever feel this again. Skye rarely brought people back to the apartment, but he knew he never saw the same person twice. Not that he'd actually seen who she brought home this time.
Pulling back, he looked Lee in the eyes. "Is...is it always like this for you?" he asked, sincerity in his eyes.
Blaine's face went pale as the short haired man looked down at him, a cocky smirk plastered across his lips. This was the guy Lee had warned him about; the guy who'd been pretending to be him. But why had he? And what was his angle now? Blaine planted his feet firmly on the ground, attempting to lift the weight off of his chest, but the other man stood his ground, and the bar didn't even budge. They were evenly matched in strength, and the stranger had a lot more leverage than he.
"Who are you? Why are you pretending to be me?" he growled, looking up at the other man without the slightest bit of fear or doubt in his eyes.
The other gentleman merely laughed, then leaned in even closer. "Pretend to be you? Blaine...I am you. Well....a better version of you. I'm merely trying to...unlock your potential," he said with a smile that made the long haired former fighter's skin crawl.
"If you were better than me, you wouldn't have to creep around," Blaine said with a scowl, sizing up the other guy. They were the same size, same build, same....well, everything except for haircut. And this guy carried himself differently. Something told Blaine they were more different than this guy was letting on. "Why don't you let me up and see how you do on an even playing field?"
With a scowl, the other guy let the bar go, and Blaine racked it, putting up the weights. The short haired guy was wearing a brown tee shirt and khaki cargo pants.
"A little overdressed, aren't ya?" Blaine asked, not really one for head-games, but...for this guy, he'd make an exception. He obviously didn't hang around gyms much, as noted by his wardrobe, lack of a gym bag, and the fact that he obviously hadn't done any working out.
"Shut up. And get your ass in the ring."
Now this a-hole was speaking Blaine's language. Walking by his gym bag, he picked up his black gloves, putting them on his hands as he climbed into the ring, stretching, and taking his stance.
The other guy, meanwhile, was a more nonchalant, lackadaisical with his movements. Once in the ring, he didn't even take a stance. He just stood there, straight-postured, arms folded across his chest. But the look on his face was nothing but laser guided focus.
However, Blaine's face showed the same amount of focus as the two Blaines sized each other up. But the lack of a stance made the guy hard to read. He was just...standing there. Did he know what he was doing? It could have gone either way. Either he was oblivious to everything, in which case, Blaine was going to mop the ring with him. But it was also possible that he was playing stupid, in which case Blaine had no idea what this guy was capable of.
But he wasn't worried. Blaine never once worried about the outcome of a fight. And he sure as hell wasn't about to start now.
Blaine gave a nod as a signal to start, and his doppelganger did the same. It was on.
Blaine was in unusually high spirits today, but he guessed he had reason to be. His life really had turned around for the better in the past few months; he'd met Lee, reunited with his niece, become a part of something bigger than himself where he could do some good, and on top of that, Lee was pregnant. Though he didn't see himself as a family man...he could make it happen.
Recently, he'd had not one, but two incidents where he temporarily regained his feeling, and to an extent, he may have still been remembering that, and hey, he was going to for a long time. He'd had a decent morning, still attempting to get the hang of cooking, but he was gradually getting better, even if Skye still refused to be anywhere near the apartment while he did so.
By now, it was late afternoon, and Blaine was in the gym, dressed in a black muscle shirt that very plainly showed off his muscles, a pair of loose black gym shorts, and black tennis shoes. He'd done his time on the bag, and was uncharacteristically bench pressing now. Since he had no one he could trust to spot him, he was only doing about a hundred fifty pounds. To him, this was a light workout, then again...what constituted an intense workout when you couldn't feel? That was a good question, and one most would probably prefer not to have answered. But it would take a lot for someone like Blaine to think something was physically intense.
In fact, the way he was benching a hundred and fifty pounds, you'd think there weren't any weights on the bar.
"....Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty..." His motions were quick and fluid, almost effortless as his long hair, tied back in a ponytail, hung off of the bench. His breathing steady.
"Hey," an oddly familiar voice pierced through Blaine's counting, though it didn't mess up his rhythm in the slightest, "I can spot if you wanna put some real weight on the bar. You're not even breaking a sweat, bro."
"No thanks, man," Blaine answered, still not breaking his focus, or his rhythm. "A bout twenty more of these and I'll be good."
But he could still see the shadow of the guy looming over him. Paying it little mind, he continued benching, but when the bar hit his chest, a pair of rough, strong hands pressed it to his chest, and since he was lying down, Blaine found himself at a disadvantage. This other guy had all the leverage.
And then...he leaned over, and the face Blaine saw made his blood run so cold that he almost swore he could feel it.
Before Blaine knew it, Lee was practically dragging him to the bedroom, and he could feel every detail of her hand, the pressure that was being exerted, the fact that if he wanted to resist, she wasn't going anywhere. But he gladly followed, despite the intense awkwardness that was implied.
He shuddered again at her touch. "Yeah...I can still feel..." he murmured, the senses almost too much, but it was a good feeling. And then she kissed him and little tingles shot up and down his spine like fireworks. "You feel amazing..." he murmured, leaning down to kiss her again.
He smiled softly. "We're all in this together. You don't have to go at this alone, which is good considering it's hard to be a mutant. Most of the world either fears you or hates you or some weird mix of the two. So we look out for each other. Really, that's what we're doing here," he explained, motioning to the room around him. He noticed her brow furrow as she explain that she just had to wait her mutation out.
"Yeah...we should probably get you out of here for now. Once you have your own room, you can wait it out there. I don't think you need too much detail. Name, ID, that sort of thing."
He thought a moment as he stepped closer to her, closing the distance. "We've all done things we regret, others may frown on. But you can't live in the past; it's about what you're going to do with yourself."
Blaine was torn to say the least. On the one hand, he could feel, and that could lead to some unforgettable times. But on the other hand Skye was less than six feet away, probably naked, with some unseen stranger hiding in the covers. That was awkward. He sighed, looking over at Lee.
"Well, yeah. Skye's friend must be an Adapted. But...given the circumstances....well...." He sort of blushed, looking from the bed, to Lee. "We should probably let them....get dressed or something? I mean...I think. I'm not sure what the hell we should do now, to be honest."
He gave a shrug as he leaned back against the wall, looking at the floor, biting his lip. Honestly, he was confused.
It was...strange to say the least...as he walked, turning into an alley. Where he heard a dog taunting a cat. What. The. Hell. "Feeling is neat...but why the hell are animals talking?" he grumbled, shaking his head. But that didn't really matter right now. He could feel and he planned on taking advantage of that. And hopefully this time, Skye wouldn't be home.
Pulling out his phone, he dialed a very familiar number. "Hey, Babe. I'm on my way to the apartment. Meet me there; I can suddenly feel, don't know how long it'll last," he said before hanging up.
Sinclaire sat in silence, his arms folded on the table in front of him as his eyes scanned the room, sizing up every agent that walked in and sat down, starting with the woman who'd been there when he walked in. She was smaller, and he hadn't really bothered to learn anyone's name; he normally saved the formality for when he was actually working with someone. Besides, he remembered faces a lot better than the name that went with them. Soon, the room was filled,; some faces he recognized, others he didn't. He couldn't remember personally working with any of them, but he'd seen them around.
And then, his silence was broken when he was called by code-name, snapping his concentration. He nodded in greeting, too proud to actually admit that names and code-names were lost on him for the most part. Her question, however, is what got his attention.
"I know it's something important. Other than that, I tend not to give place to rumors," he said simply. "I've heard it was a relocation assignment, but other than that, it tends to get crazy. I prefer to hear it from the source, anyway," the big man said with a shrug, his hands still resting on the table as he looked at the woman across from him.
Blaine paid for his items, then looped the bags on one arm. And then in mid sentence, she dropped hers. With a slight chuckle, he leaned down to help, picking up the items and setting them on the counter. "I'll see you then," he said with a smile as he turned to walk out the door. But before he got to the door, he had to put some of the bags on his other arm; they were heavy and starting to cut into his arm--wait...The air was cold, on his face, and his hair slightly tickled his face when he moved his head.
He'd felt this sensation only twice before, both times when an Adapted was in the room, but as he walked outside...there was no particular person within any sort of range for that long. And yet...he could still feel. It was odd. And then there was the murmuring. It didn't sound...human...but every now and then he heard...voices?
'Ey, dis is my bread now. He looked over as a crow took a bread crumb from a pigeon. He continued down the street...what. The hell.
Something happened, but he didn't know what was going on. But screw the talking animals. He could feel. And he didn't know for how long. Picking up the pace, he briskly walked down the street towards his apartment.
Blaine stepped in, and his eyes sort of widened with shock. The kind of man he was, he always took a good look around his apartment when he stepped inside--no matter what. And he saw what Lee apparently missed entirely. The pull out couch was...well, pulled out, which was odd in its own right. On top of that, Skye was a very deep shade of red, just her head poking out of the covers, and there was a lump next to her.
On top of that...something else seemed...off. "Uhm...none..." Blaine murmured, but then he felt her hands in his hair; her lips against his. Her body pressed up against him. He felt it. He shuddered as a shiver went down his spine, which honestly neverhappened. Pulling back from the kiss, he was shaking slightly as he was able to feel everything. The heat in the apartment, the fabric of the clothes against his skin. His phone in his pocket. Everything.
"Two things," he whispered. "One, I can feel....and two...look behind you."
Blaine made his way back through the store and to the checkout line, now just focused on going home so he could attempt to surprise his girlfriend with a home-cooked meal. She'd be so impressed if he got this right. But if he didn't...well, she'd love him anyway, and then they'd order a pizza because her morning sickness still wasn't letting her have Chinese food. Who knew unborn babies could be so picky?
Obviously, he didn't feel the hand on his back, nor did he feel the patting. He did hear the voice, and he jumped with a start before turning around to look at her. "Nope. Honestly you could stick a knife in my back and I wouldn't notice. I can't feel," he said with a shrug, as if it was no big deal at all. And to him, it really wasn't. And at this point, he really didn't care who knew about his mutation.
And then she was going back on about the gym. "I might be willing to teach you a few things," he said, giving her his number. "Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are my usual gym days."
