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.
Huh. So now Noel was feeling even more foolish for blabbering. She should have stuck to her New York instincts. Now she was standing here with two potential competitors. Or, if the last guy was to be believed, co-workers. Either way she stuffed her hands into her pockets and tried not to feel too sullen.
"WELCOME!" The voice was as loud as all the light up signs, but the man was smaller than she expected. He stood about 5'3", cowboy boot heels and ten gallon hat included. "My name's Terry and I'm just tickled that ya'll could make it out on this fine day." He gestured with his arms in a somewhat fatherly manner to usher the three indoors.
Tickled? Noel glanced around between the other guys who had just arrived. Was this guy for real? Because she couldn't tell.
"I guess ya'll're wondering exactly what I want ya'll to do..." The interior of the shop was laid out in heaps. A heap of shutters, a heap of mannequins, a heap of creepy children's toys-- Terry walked past all that toward the back of the shop that held glass cases and more valuable assets. "These things here are worth a considerable amount more if we know their history. A lesser man would just make one up, but we've got a reputation of integrity to maintain. Very important in a business like mine."
Noel glanced up and down the cases. One for weapons, one for jewelry, one for foreign objects like vases and rugs. A few shoppers drifted about the store, but most of the large structure was open and relaxed.
"I'd like ya'll to try the same three items. Just ta tell me what you can about 'em." He scooted around the back side of the cabinets and jangled his keys as he worked the cases. Terry pulled out what looked like a set of dueling pistols, a rose colored cameo, and a tripod vase-- one item from each case. "I know a bit about these so this is my verification test." He motioned for the visitors to get to it.
"Used in paint is more than I knew. Don't think I ever heard the word kaolin before today." And if she didn't know better she would have thought he was making it up. Aaand here came the awkward moment when she was supposed to offer up some trivial comment about her home town to make the kaolin kid feel better about his own. Only she had nothing to go on.
Ty saved her with his introduction. "Noel."
"Doesn't sound so bad." The brunette immediately grimaced with the taste of that polite lie. "Okay. It sounds like watching paint dry was your high school's best sport." Instant relief like drinking milk after gobbling wasabi. She mouthed the word 'sorry' because that was the best she could do to make such a boring place seem better. Didn't make the chitchat any asker, though.
Luckily, "This is my stop." She was standing before the bus was done gasping it's slow-mo break. Just as promised Ye Olde Antiques was impossible to miss. As far as this bus stop was concerned, the warehouse sized complex that was studded in light bulbs and neon signs was it. There was a little bit of "yard" that was littered with a few statues and bird feeders and the like, but beyond the store it was pretty much just forest out there.
And Noel wasn't the only person to exit the bus. There were three of them in all, the entire contents of the bus except the driver. The bus rattled away and then there was nothing but them and the building.
"You too, huh?" The third guy to answer the advertisement looked more like a teacher than anything else. He was graying at the temples and dressed in slacks that had seen better days. "Looks like they have enough merchandise for us all to take a whack at it, assuming that's all antiques in there."
Kaolin? No matter which way she tried the word against different mental images nothing seemed to fit. He said it was chalk, but... well she'd never heard of anyone celebrating chalk... or eating it. As the bus rumbled on down the road, curiosity finally got the best of Noel and she turned around in her seat to get some good solid eye contact with the red head. "Kaolin Festival?" The statement had not tasted foul, but... "Where would someone go to celebrate chalk, pray tell?" She tried to keep the sass to a minimum before it spilled out her mouth before introductions were made, but sometimes it was so hard!
The air brakes whooshed as the bus hit a first stop. No one moved so the driver almost immediately kept going. He must have been used to driving a mostly empty bus. Noel checked out the window again even thoug facing backwards as she was, she could only see where they had been. the instructions were to get off at the second stop and Ye Olde Antiques would be impossible to miss. She just wanted to make sure she hadn't missed it already otherwise she would be paying her own fare home.
Noel attempted to brush the sitting wrinkles out of her khakis. Don't want to look like a slob to a new employer.
WANTED: Persons able to discern the true history or previous ownership of antiques. Compensation provided upon verification, travel expenses covered. 867-5309
The two line advertisement would not have normally caught her eye, but it was pasted all over everything like graffiti. Noel counted 14 stickers on her way to work. Every shiny white sticker offered her money if she would use her ability. It didn't seem like it would be hard. She only ever tried to tell the truth anyway and extra coin was always appreciated.
By the end of her shift, the idea had rolled around in her head long enough that she'd actually decided to do it.
She called the number provided and got "Ye Olde Antique Trader, your top resource in antiques and collectibles with art and antique auctions, trunk shows, appraisals and more." and found out why travel expenses were paid. The place was out in the middle of nowhere-- same state but two trains and a long, undignified bus ride away.
Maybe since they could afford to pay for people coming out, they could afford to pay big money for the actual job? At least she'd get some fresh air? At this point Noel was willing to put up with a little discomfort to break up the monotony of the day to day.
The very next Saturday, the memorymancer was piling her long braid into the bus seat next to her on the last leg of this tedious journey. She'd left her usual sword at home in favor on a shorter Roman style that fit more comfortably along her spine when sitting since she expected to do a lot more sitting than fighting today.
The bus driver drawled in an accent that sounded like a backwater cousin to a usual New Yorker's accent. "What're you in for?" The driver seemed to be waiting for the train to pull away first, just in case there might be more passengers. So far there weren't many passengers beside herself.
"Going to an antique place to make a buck. What else is there in these parts?"
"Huntin' mostly. Garlic festival come fall."
Right. A garlic festival. Reeeeal exciting. Noel adopted the traditional New York public transit attitude and looked out the window thus signalling that any further conversation was most unwelcome.
Before her brain had really caught up to what she was doing, Noel threw herself on top of Ms. Red. She was scared and freaking angry. No one should have the right to end that many lives, on a whim or planned or any other way you might do it. It was wrong. "Wrong. You're wrong." About everything.
Yeah this woman could rip Noel's arms out of their sockets, but Noel's hands were going straight for the throat. Crushing with all her weight and strength and self-righteous fury. Assuming she could choke the living daylights out of this woman, she would. It was wrong, but it was also so right. If only she had the strength to do it before Ms. Red could retaliate.
The sword jabbed between Ms. Red's feet, which was not at all what Noel had been aiming for, but hey! There was really scary lady threatening her life and starting to ramble off speeches about mutant-kind! Noel had stabbed backward without properly scouting ahead. Severing a leg or critical artery would have been preferable, but since the blade was there between her legs and there were no take-backs or do-overs in life-or-death situations, Noel couldn't waste the opportunity.
She threw herself and all her weight at the hilt of the weapon. The blade between Ms. Red's legs became a lever, one of her own legs as the fulcrum and Noel's weight suddenly pit against the weight of a single leg. The sword was made of steel which was strong, maybe not Ms. Red strong but it should be strong enough to throw one of her red legs out from under her. It was only half the woman's weight after all. And if it broke... well then maybe Noel would get lucky and the pointy bits would sever a leg or a vital artery or something.
No no nonononono! The one advantage she'd had was speed... Or, well maneuverability? Whatever had kept her out of arms reach was gone now along with the skin on her palms and one forearm. At least is Ms. Red caught her, it wouldn't hurt for long.
Wow. How's that for optimism?
Noel scrambled like a one legged duck to get her feet under her again and get closer to her weapon, but something crashed into the back of her legs just below the knee. Kaplow. At least she fell forward. The brunette reached for all she was worth to get a hold of that sword with her intentions firmly set in mind.
Judging from the noise level so far, Ms. Red was sure to have footsteps that left craters in the asphalt which meant at least Noel could not be snuck up on. She would lay there looking hurt (not a hard act to sell considering how she felt right now) and at the last second get the sword up between herself and the giant therefore skewering the beast and allowing herself ample time to stand up as she pleased.
Was she going to let Ms. Red kill (or attempt to kill) all those humans in her wake? Yes. Yes she was. Noel was not a martyr and the people in the cars had freaking steel suits of armor on. Modern technology was on their side. If Noel stopped and took Ms. Red's wrath in the face... Well, she wouldn't have one any more.
Noel used some of her precious lead to hop up on a car hood and run up to its roof to get a better view. She whipped her head left and right, long braid swishing behind her. Where would she have the advantage? Or at least, whee could she find a place alone to go out in a blaze of glory? Surely there was some place sort of secluded...
The car rocked underneath her and Noel yipped in surprise, slipping and sliding onto the car's trunk. She slithered off the back and hit the ground running. Had she seen... Could it possibly be?
She ran a few rows back and prayed to unicorn that everyone had their seat belts and airbags on.
A police car.
"Halle-frikkin'-lluia."
She launched herself into a dive, her shoulder impacting the front window —hard enough to jostle the entire car, but sadly not hard enough to break anything— and rolled with the impact so hopefully she didn't loose too much momentum and her sword wouldn't get stuck in anything.
She was tired and now her shoulder ached and she didn't want to go too far from what was hopefully a properly prepared policeman. Noel left the road and tripped on the curb on her way up to the sidewalk. Her sword clattered away. Crap, crap, crap. She lunged for the weapon and hoped Red was further away than she thought.
Running with sharp objects in hand was never the most brilliant tactic. It was run or get body slammed by a glittered up fanboy. Literally. Add in a (hopefully thinning) crowd and stupid got demoted to imbecilic.
"Move!" Noel had to waste some of her precious momentum to shove a man with a handheld camcorder out of the way before Ms. Red decided to grab him up and turn her single, improvised weapon into nunchucks. She just barely managed to keep herself from skewering a couple of tweens who decided to dart across her path. What was wrong with people these days? Could they not see this giant, angry, RED and SCREAMING MURDERER trailing behind her? (Noel saved her breath for running instead of vbal repartee.)
The more she ran, the more Noel realized that the sidewalk was a bad idea. People were still lined up for the next showing, most of which were unaware of the trouble ahead. that's just how long the lines were for this popular movie.
The sweetest old lady, her walker decorated with tinsil and what looked like a werewolf piñata, stepped out of line when she noticed Noel and started edging closer one millimeter at a time while Noel and Red ran straight toward her like a freaking locomotive.
"Team Lacob!" She crowed and sped up to maybe an inch per step to the cheers of perhaps half the crowd. Holy healing unicorn, this was no time to play chicken. The memorymancer swerved out into street traffic last second. At least the people here on the road had the extra protective layer of their vehicles.
Honks and rude gestures chorused through the lane. She kept running. Surely there was somewhere in NewYork where she could swing her sword at a true villain in peace.
Well that was just rude. "There are kids here. Yeesh." Not that the kids shouldn't be seeing the beatings or the violence... or be the victims of it... Noel drew her sword. To heck with the talk. No more Ms. Niceguy. No warnings, no second chances.
The great part about mental deliberations was that they took place at the speed of thought. While Big Redette was still insulting Noel's intelligence (Hey! Those insults didn't taste like lies. She really believed that!), Noel dashed in for her attack.
She went in just out of what Noel guessed was Redette's arm's length and dropped her weight low before she swung up. Noel was too far out for anything but the shallowest of slices, but the goal wasn't to kill big red on the spot. The goal was to get her angry. Well, angrier. Noel wanted her to forget the small fries.
Also, now was probably the time to run if she wanted to stay out of arm's length. She also had to figure out her next move since the same thing probably wouldn't work again. The trick to beating someone bigger and stronger? Never fight fair.
What devotion. What charm. The writer of this series clearly favored Ned. So, clearly, Noel was totally on the winner's side: team Nedward. She felt silly admitting it. The guy was what... like 17? Was it even legal? Whatever. Fantasy was fantasy.
Noel rolled the top of her popcorn bag down so the leftover kernels wouldn't get stale. She was one of the last out of the theater because sitting with a sword would be less awkward if they were legal to carry in public. Also the music in the closing credits was nice.
A crowd was clogging the exit doors and from the screaming outside and the way people were getting out their camera phones to take a quick snapshot, there must have been a celebrity outside. In fact... did she hear someone screaming about Nedward?
The memorymancer pushed her way to the front with more than a little excitement.
Only... this was so not Nedward. (He was a good vampire. He would never revel in a public blood bath. Plus, Ned wasn't a big red chick.)
"Are you serious!?" Noel looked around at the sheep. The people were either cowering or gawking. "No one's even going to try to stop this?" Why couldn't she just have a nice night out at the movies?
Noel pushed through the door and chucked the last of her popcorn bag at the unhappy red giant to distract her. "Hey!" She reached behind her shoulder and pushed her floor-length braid aside to expose the hilt of her sword for as quick a draw as she could manage. Her feet squished in something slick and thick.
This was so wrong.
She had to draw attention to herself so that the slaughter would end. Noel could beat her face in or... at least draw her away from the crowd. Her heart hammered nervously in her chest. Big, red lady looked a lot bigger this close.
"Clearly, you have never read the books. Give it up, Lacob-lover. You're never gonna win." Noel's shirt? Nedward's face and the slogan NEDWARD FOREVER as big as it would fit across the front. Yeah. Bring it.
She realized her mistake the instant his eyebrow went up that far. Stephen wasn't attached anymore. Not to the pursuit of a con and certainly not to any woman. He planted himself a few scant inches away just to prove how charming he could really be.
That made Noel more nervous than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
"I know exactly where those lips have been." And admitting as much made Noel's skin prickle in a flush. She lowered her eyes tot he table because looking Stephen in the eyes would be too intimate. He might just catch a glimpse of whatever was inside of her that made her tick. And kissing Stephen would be like kissing a brother. Icky in the extreme. "You don't gotta threaten me with 'em." Icky, icky, icky.
Slop. The memorymancer jumped at the sudden cold and wet interruption into her mental protestations. She had gelato. On her cheek and across the bridge of her nose. She opened her mouth but all that came out was: "!!!"
Oh it was on.
She wiped the mess off with her fingers and then shook them out toward Stephen with a quick flick. The rest of her gelato was forfeit. Noel turned the cup over and attempted to mush the entire thing right into Stephen's hairline.
"Yeah!" Stephen was remarkably non-retaliatory. Noel had feared for her hair with all this sticky, sugary goodness around. Apparently he remembered who started it and who had totally deserved it. "Love can go find a cliff to fall off of after that!"
Or maybe Stephen just remembered that words could hurt more than ice cold deliciousness. Noel grabbed her shirt over her heart as if she were wounded. Clearly he didn't know what went on when she trained if he thought kisses couldn't had an edge of any/all of those things.
"Oh, as if you would know what the ingredients are for the perfect kiss." The saucy lilt to her eyebrows backed her up. He had only been smooching one person for a while now and look how far that had gotten him? Best not to bring up that point for a few years.
"Just to show you how grown up I am, I'm not even going to dignify your death-wish with a lethal response." So instead of beating him to a pulp for his teasing, Noel flicked her gelato trash at Stephen with her spoon.
Sticky sugar bomb! Away! Of course, now she was out of ammo...
"Seriously? That was a one time deal to make the learning curve less steep. Everything since has been blood, sweat and tears." And there was so much more to learn. So much more. Kissing Sebastian had been like kissing an iceberg. You know... so much more underneath?
"Besides, the point of my love life is that there isn't one. I want a life, not a liability so let's go back to our anti-love party. Don' need no man! Don' need no lady! Suck it, love!" That was by far, the best inspirational speech Noel had given all year.
