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.
His compliments made her swell with pride. She tried her best in her work even if her access to memories gave her a leg up at times. "Without having sparred against you, I wouldn't guess my level is above yours. It's more than just knowledge that goes into it." But, he knew that already. "I'd guess you're more fit than I am. I haven't touched a blade in... months?" Months was a good guess. She'd lost a lot of time and hadn't practiced at all in recent memory.
"But there's only one way to remedy that." She grinned. "I'd be honored to train with you some time." Batons and guns were far more practical in her line of work, but there was nothing like steel on steel.
It was a rush to have those memories play out in real time with her body rather than Sebastian's. It was like seeing a puzzle and having all the pieces, but it wasn't satisfying until you got to actively piece it together.
"Wasn't I just telling you to get a bodyguard for when you go all Mutant SWAT?" Noel smirked too bad she didn't have any business cards. "Give me a call next time. I'll see if we can't work something out."
She nodded along. Noel had her issues with immortality. "The healing was nice, though..." She'd never accepted when he offered his blood and, as it had turned out, he was only handing out temporary immortality anyway. "He's a lonely person when you get down to it. Not that that explains or justifies what he's done."
Ah. And now it was time to spill about herself. It was easier when they were just scrutinizing Cafas. "I wish I could prove you wrong, but.." Noel shook her head. Would he have kept her around if she hadn't been mutant? Some of his first and most loyal converts had been human. "I'm the crappiest psychic you'll ever meet. I know when someone speaks truth. Or... at least, when they believe it's truth." She shrugged.
"I also can see others memories. I was his shadow because when we sparred, I matched him." She wasn't boasting. Just factual. "He let me see his training. I gained a lot of experience that made me think a lot like him in terms of strategy. Once we hammered in the technique of it, he may as well have been practicing against himself." It wasn't like a free level up. She still had to work at it. Which meant now she would be woefully rusty. Those had been the best workouts of her life.
"I don't know if he would have kept me around without my abilities, but it's not like it matters now." Another shrug. "I just work plain old private sector security these days." No swords. Guns only at certain locations. Rather pale by comparison.
She didn't hear anything off, but the food bank seemed extra spooky tonight for some reason.
Noel hid her yawn behind her hand and moseyed on toward her next checkpoint around the outside. She often worked nights, so it wasn't like she wasn't used to staying up late. It was just a really quiet shift and she didn't expect that to change.
The memorymancer checked the food bank doorknob. The church across the street owned this building and during business hours they gave out cans and shelf-stable food to whomever would sit through a little proselytization.
Scrape, scrape, scuffle.
Was that... the sound of cans being pulled off a shelf? No way. Noel stopped and listened carefully.
> "This place really does have better options than a corner store, twinkies got old real fast."
Ugh. She took a step away from the building and scanned for an obvious point of entry as she radioed in that someone had made an unauthorized entrance.
"You see the guy? Does he sound dangerous?"
"Nah. I'll be okay." It was just some hungry guy.
"We'll send someone out in a bit, then. Be careful."
She turned off her radio and touched the baton at her belt. She would have preferred the sword, but this was on the book civilian work. No swords allowed.
Noel got her keys and made plenty of noise opening the door. "I know you're in there. You're trespassing. Leave the food and clear out." She was giving him a head start. If it really was some hungry hobo then they'd scram with some needed food and she could just report it.
Oh god. Could she just hide under the table or something? "One date. I swear to god, it was one freaking date. And then Maya was there and pissed and I just wanted to die." Easily the most mortifying moment of her entire life. Noel put her hands on her face.
>"Their marriage and your relationships aren't my business though."
Yes! Noel clung to that hope. "None of my business now either. Never have I run so fast or been so pissed." The aftermath of that meeting left a large fuzzy hole in her recollection. All she knew was that she'd done something to make things right. Or... right-er.
>"So exactly how old is Sebastian?"
Yes. Back to safer conversational territory. "I believe the term ancient applies." Noel got a bit of a distant look to her as she thought back through what memories she had from him and tried to find the oldest of them all. "He was born in the BC. Greece. I don't know exactly. They didn't keep time the same back then and I doubt his recollection is perfect." Noel didn't get much of anything until the Romans came into the picture anyway. He took up arms with a pitchfork first. Like any commoner.
Sebastian. Noel flushed at his name. "Ah. Yeah. I forget sometimes that he's kind of a big deal." He'd simply been the guy she lived with for a year or so. She paid for their first apartment, crappy as it was. Or, rather, she let him crash in her crappy apartment. Then when he moved out, he'd asked her to come with. They had been entirely platonic until that last day. One freaking date and THAT'S that time his wife showed up?
Noel heaved a sigh and sank down in her seat. She itched her upper arm tattoo, the one that read DO NOT DATE MARRIED MEN. "Yeah. They called me his shadow and I kind of worked as his enforcer for a while." How embarrassing. "Only until I met the uh-wife and wised up to the whole big picture thing."
She shrugged apologetically. "He was entirely genuine." As if that explained it. But from her side, it at least justified her actions. How could she not believe him when he believed himself?
Ah so the the heavy stuff. He looked like he could handle it, but again it just wasn't what she imagined for him.
"I apprenticed under one of those really old mutant guys with lifetimes of experience. I mean, he didn't look old at the time. Or... married."
Cough.
"Beat the crap out of me for months. In a training kind of way, I mean. But it was kind of like my job at the time so, I guess, like a crash course?" A comprehensive crash course with hundreds of years of memories to back it up. She could get lost in those memories if she wanted to.
"Sort of a weird time in my life." As if there were any normal times. Noel pushed her hair over her shoulder and let it cascade down behind her chair and scratched at her neck. She was glad not to be living in sin anymore, but... also she missed it.
"All in all, not too bad. I favor the saber or a gladius. Those long, heavy ones make me too slow and my wrists muscles burn with unholy fire after a while. I guess if I kept at it I'd have crazy buff forearms." Noel shrugged this was probably the most she'd said about herself yet.
Whoa. Jaws of life go bad? Noel drew her legs back off the table and put them back on the ground. "Hey. I'm sorry. I just say whatever comes to mind. It seemed... With the hero stuff... "
Her mouth was well acquainted with foot. The harder part was making it right or learning to move on.
" So your guy's a fluffy cop? " Only this topic seemed bittersweet. Damn this guy was full of land mines.
"And recently means you have had at least some blade training." Noel wasn't sure if she'd always been this good or if her roomie was rubbing off on her. It paid to live with a profiler. "C'mon. Dish. We talking tachi? Tanto?" She made appropriately size hand motions indicating size differences. "Spather, sabre, foil?" This time she indicated weight and carrying style.
It was the best she could do in an attempt to cheer him: pick a neutral topic of interest and run with it.
Noel flushed. Lana had probably meant it as a jibe at whoever'd gotten her clothes, but after the awkward situation she'd just lived through it made her feel a bit squidgy. It was a good thing it was easy to get lost in Lana's good humor.
"Oh man. You did it the nice way. I'd probably have left the tree in his office after he'd left." Or on his desk. Oh! Chair? "I don't think I could work an office job. I mean, you at least get to invite other people to your space. It must get lonely in a cubicle all day."
And somehow the dolphins on screen were already flopping aboard their spaceships. Gosh, where had the time gone? "This may be the best part," Noel motioned to the screen where a rather poor CG scene was happening. "Inter-species love is weird."
Romania, huh? Noel set her empty cup down with half the lip unrolled and tapped a quick note in her phone to research that. What went down in Romania that pulled the mutant equivalent of SWAT overseas? While she was at it she made a note about the X's. That they were on the up and up and cleared with the police.
Metal manip. Well the advantages to that one were obvious immediately. "Hn. Who needs the jaws of life when you're around?" Or support structures or safe doors or knives or swords... "It's probably the hair, but I would have pegged you as a sugar spinner? Maybe some kind of hormone manip with a slant toward romance, considering your job. Something more... fluffy." She shrugged her apology. It wasn't much of an apology.
"So I'm guessing your training is in swords?" Because, who wouldn't? "At least, I'm hoping it is, anyway." She happened to have more than a few memories of sword-play and more than a little experience to boot.
Computer enhanced pink, hmm? Maybe she was thinking of some other movie then. The face on her socks did NOT have pink hair. She would have noticed THAT.
"The X-men are mutant SWAT? That takes them up a few pegs by my measure. I thought they were just vigilante seclusionists with maybe some weird fanatic vibes going on. Dropped a few punk kids back at the Mansion. One of 'em stole from me." Noel bobbed her feet in time to the song playing in her head. Obviously she had no hard feelings about it.
"So I guess your mutation is pretty combative if you're an X." Noel scooped up her empty gelato cup and fiddled with the edges.
Did he get points for managing himself? Noel did as subtle a once over as she could. Yeah. Even with the hint of smugness, he clearly knew what he was doing.
She scanned the phone and the snippet of article that google supplied. "Wikipedia: Cafas Johnson Cafas Johnson (July 13, 1990) is the teen heart-throb lead in the Dusk movies trilo-"
That was followed by a photo gallery site and a fan club that promised "hawt candids."
"Huh."
The memorymancer actually did pull out her phone. Google gave customized results and anyone can make and edit a wikipedia page. And... stalkers happen? No. He looked to be the real deal. She held up her phone to compare his Wiki article photo to the real man sitting across from her. Was his head shot retouched? He looked a tad more real in real life. (Go figure.)
"Sorry, I didn't recognize you. Was your hair pink in the films?" It was actually rather embarrassing that she hadn't recognized him. Didn't she have a tee-shirt with his face on it somewhere? Or was it socks? Was she... wearing them now? Don't check!
But luckily, Cafas didn't seem interested in discussing his face. He wanted to bellyache about how hard his life was. Noel leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up onto the wrought iron table, only actually resting her calves on the surface and making sure to keep her feet away from Cafas.
"Sounds like you need a personal assistant. And, honestly, I'm surprised your producers let you risk your face, let alone your health. Ask them to send you a personal assistant and you'd probably get a healer or mutant shielder of some kind. Totally handy." Which, if Cafas was such a do-it-yourself guy would totally rub him the wrong way to take someone into "battle" with him for the sole purpose of keeping him safe.
"But, maybe make sure they've got military history so you're not taking a sheep in." A personal assistant could send his Kailey flowers and smooth down the edges of that relationship for him. Yep. He could throw money at his problems and they'd totally go away.
Nod. Nod. Wow. He really had hit the highlights. "And then hit the gym and get shamed by your personal trainer, no doubt. Yeah. That's pretty common even among ye of little cash except with dark chocolate, jogging trails, and self-doubt." Gelato was for special occasions only and mandated extra helpings of self-punishment in the jogging department.
Snort. "Super hero movie star? You actually believe all the things coming out of your mouth. I'm totally impressed. It's like you're from another planet." But really, she did not envy his celebrity (assuming he actually had any) at all.
"I get that messed up stuff throws your emotions out of whack. I work security and people are stupid. The stereotype of being cynical and jaded has a decent basis in reality. Cops and, uh, super heroes fall in that same vein, I guess."
But what she didn't get was why a new relationship would be worse than ending an old one. "Aren't new relationships supposed to be all warm fuzzies and walking on air?"
Childish desires? "Did you buy a ball pit yet? Or rent a hot tub limo with DJ?" Hmm. She tapped her lips. What other childish fantasies would she fulfill if she had gobs of money? "Ohh! Roll around in a pile of it? Maybe bills instead of coins. Coins seems like a bad idea, actually." There was something about Cafas that made Noel want to babble on. She shut her yap in an attempt to give the movie star an opportunity to speak.
And really, the whole not gay but liking a dude thing was off the deep end for Noel's mental health. "That makes my brain hurt." But God hadn't yet smitted... smitten? smote? him yet. So he was probably okay.
But... beard stubble touching! Noel shook her head to get that thought right on out of it. Ick. "Yeah. I don't think that's for me." Luckily, that would probably never come up. "I pretty much gave up on the whole dating thing anyway. It gets messy."
So... this was what famous people were like? Noel never imagined they were forgiving and social. Charismatic, sure, but... "You really bought two gelato cups for yourself." That wasn't a question, she knew he'd spoken the truth. Amusement was creeping in on the embarrassment now.
Her bum had been hovering just above her chair, ready to vacate it at a moments notice, but now she sat right back down. Okay. So she didn't really get out much, but this was still nice. This could be a funny story to tell her roomie later.
As for the real Stephen, Noel rolled her lips in on each other and checked her phone. Did her text even go out? She didn't have his number anymore... Should she make a note or something...?
Best to put it out of her mind for now. Noel pocketed the phone.
"Well, when you find an attractive woman, let me know." She teased. "Hey, aren't you...?" Noel gave a little shrug and an eyebrow raise rather than outright saying it. He had just allowed her to steal his gelato and share a table. She was trying to be sensitive... or something.
> "Nice. The city could use more people like you. Resourcefulness like that isn't exactly commonplace."
Noel flushed with pride but would never be bashful enough to deny such a claim. "Well. Not exactly like me." That could be a disaster. But, maybe just one or two so she could start a support group.
And cue awkward. Noel set the gelato cup down and frowned at the stranger she'd been merrily conversing with. "So your given name is not, in fact, Stephen." She made a disgusted sound and put her hands over her face. "I am such an idiot."
How was she going to explain this one without making things worse? "Did I just eat someone else's...? I am so, so sorry. I can pay for that. I was meeting someone and... he changes appearance a lot and I have sort of this memory thing and I messed up my... yeah. Uhm. I can go. If you want?"
There were lots of placating hand motions and pointing, and less and less eye contact as she fumbled along through her explaination. Oh. Sure. She could wipe a stranger's memory, but then she'd be right back here looking for Stephen and maybe making the same mistake with someone who was far less pleasant.
