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.
"...when I find him... gonna twist his damn antennae off..." Her low grumbling wasn't helping her mood, nor was the fact that she'd more or less gotten lost. "... and beat him with it, and hope he can still feel with it, too." After being directed one way in search of her "friend" Roach, she'd managed to get turned around at some point and now had no idea where she was.
"Too many freakin' doors in this place, if you ask me." Stopping a doorway, she peeked inside. Some kind of large kitchen area. Tables everywhere... but no giant insects to be seen.
Narrowing her eyes, she sighed and mentally crossed another room off her inner checklist. "Where's Allison when you need her? This place is too big." If she hadn't been looking for her supposed-to-be-dead roommate, she'd have avoided the building all together. It still gave her all sorts of weird vibes.
Considering that she was way past annoyed with greg, and had already spent the better part of an hour searching and grilling as many people as she could for his whereabouts, 'weird vibes' were currently pretty easy to ignore. Turning away, she spotted another person to sling her questions at. Wasn't a kid, either, so maybe he'd actually have a brain in that big head of his.
"Hey, Big red, any chance you've seen a giant Cockroach scurrying around here anywhere?" So help her, if she got another lame 'This is New York, lady' joke in response, she'd burst an artery all over the wall.
Smirking, Megan shrugged and started to changed. A while later, newly bathed and no longer reeking, she joined Roach for dinner and a few good fights.
...a few good fights, that all seemed to be centered around the Judge defeating wave after wave of opponents.
She watched the blood shed with surprisingly little emotion, half paying attention to it, while the rest was focused on her meal. Steak... jesus, how long had it been since she'd eaten something without eight legs?
"Do you remember the last time we met? You called me a monster! It was the most flattering thing anyone had ever said to me. I was heartbroken when you walked away."
Anger settled on her features, and she dropped her eating utensil back onto her plate. "You went and died on me, you jerk... and you didn't tell me you were alive afterward!" Thinking about all the tears she'd shed over him, all of the time she'd spent ripping herself apart in his absence... and he'd been off joyfully gallivanting around somewhere. With a huff, she turned her attention back to the fight as the Judge yet again triumphed, and then learned who his next opponent would be...
@%$&...
She needed to speed things up, if she wanted her plan to go off without a hitch. Leaning back in her chair and scooting her plate away, the warm handle of her knife pressing into her lower back helped her to relax a little. She probably wouldn't need it, considering what she had in mind... but it didn't hurt to have backups. "Gregory...." She fixed her eyes on the bug man, a lazy half smirk settled on her lips. "How in the hell did you manage to get your hands on that one?"
Leave it to him to make things ever more interesting.
Her anxiety grew as the guard moved in on her... Would he find the weapons? If he did, what then?
But... luck stepped in before any such questions could be answered...
"My dear... Look at you. Well... You look like a man. But I've been stalking you enough to know it's you! Megan, my dear! You've finally come to your senses!"
Her stomach flip-flopped, and for a moment she felt unsteady on her own two legs. There he was... unchanged since the last time she'd seen him, with his buggy arms wrapped around her. She forgot all about the various things hidden on her body that she didn't particuarly want found... and hugged the big bug back. Part of her was glad, happy even... the same part of her that smiled when she saw him. It... felt good... A distant memory of home and happier times. "S'ahelluva lot better than being some %$#@&'s gal, don'tchu think?" Running a hand through what was left of her hair, she cast a look over her shoulder at her companion-turned-prisoner as Roach stepped back.
"You smell horrible! We should get you cleaned up! And look... you brought a present! My oh my, the JUDGE! You give the nicest gifts! Got tired of gallivanting around with him trying to be... a hero? hah! please."
"Tch... Hero. All work and no play. It gets pretty boring after a while...." Without a word at the bound Judge, she left his side and trotted after Roach, now that his lackeys were going to leave her alone. "An who're you calling smelly? I don't smell, you ass... YOU smell."
He was probably right... She hadn't bathed in a week. With a wave of his buggy hand, she turned and allowed herself to be carted off... but not before stopping just once. She had something she needed to say....
".....It's good to be back, Greg.... I missed you a helluva lot. That said, she had some sort of cleaning ritual awaiting her, and so departed.
"Are you ready? You're the one who knows him... The one he trusts."
She laughed, it sounded empty. "As ready as I'll ever be." Which was not at all. She didn't want to do this... She knew she had too, that it needed to be done.. but she honestly didn't want too.
"Worst comes to worst, we fight our way in, kill him, and fight our way out. As is, this is the best way to get one of us close to him; we don't have any other options, here, Bailiff..."
With the heavy blade in her hands, she nodded. She was going to have to stash the weapon somewhere inside... as well as note, and a few other things. He'd need them in the long run. "Yeah... I know." She was closest to him, the most obvious choice. The Judge himself would never make it within five feet... Megan, however, had the chance to swindle her way in beside him.
"Bailiff...Megan. If I don't make it out of this... Don't stop. Never stop, and never die. Promise me that."
"... I promise." Those words tasted wrong on her tongue. "Promise me the same." He was needed... now more than ever. If they succeeded in taking Roach down, there would surely be a fight for his throne. Someone needed to be around to keep the peace.
Glancing over at him as she finished securing his blade under her layers, she felt her chest constrict. Blindfolded.... handcuffed like a criminal. It was wrong. With her eyes hidden behind goggles, there was no chance he'd catch the expressions currently swimming in them.
Heartbreak.... Guilt... Shame. So many emotions, so many words she wanted to say.
"Good luck. The quick press of her lips gently to his was there and gone, then she tugged her mask into place and latched onto the chain keeping is wrists shackled together. With a tug, she turned and led the way.
Really, she should have been asking herself that question... but, it helped to think that her imposing companion was frightened and nervous about the situation too. It was practically suicide, what they had planned... and she knew it. Standing beside the Judge, hidden under layers of leather and cloth, Megan eyed the crowd that mulled along far ahead of them.
They had a check in to get through first. No doubt, they would be searched. Though she had her knife pretty well hidden, she wasn't exactly sure she'd make it through with the blade still on her person. Then again, dressing and acting like a man had it's benefits. People were far less willing to pat you down if they thought you were packing dude-bits in your pants.
Glancing over at him, Megan tugged the red cloth she usually wore over her mouth and nose back up into place, and fixed a pair of ski goggles on over her eyes. Paired with a shaggy hack-job of a Mohawk, and the dirt that still clung to her skin, she was confident that she at least looked like a boy. It was the man voice that was harder to pull off.
"This could go south really, really quickly, if he senses that i'm up to something. If we even make it through the front door."
The last time she's seen the big Bug, he'd tried to sweet talk her into coming with him back to his Pit. His castle in the wastes. Considering the fact that she was still sore over the fact that she's though him dead, only to find out that he was very much alive and doing pretty terrible things... well, there's no polite way to repeat exactly how she turned him down.
Normally, when waking up to find that @#%$ has officially hit the fan, it's either from a night of serious drinking (and you get to piece together later all of the classy, mature things you did the night before), you laugh it off, shrug, and blame the bottle. Because whatever happens when you've reached the point of blacking out, effectively becoming a louder, more emotional embodiment of yourself, it's not your fault any longer. Or, at least that's what most hardcore drinkers swore by. Or, if this is not in fact what happened, it's because someone else has screwed up somewhere, and that someone needs a boot firmly planted up the backside, pronto.
Upon waking, those were the first two scenarios that jumped to mind.
Well, considering that she hadn't gotten soused the night before, because she was pretty sure she'd remember virtually pickling herself in the booze it took nowadays to get to the point of time traveling, that only left the second option. Someone else had @%!$ up somehow, somewhere, and she'd gotten dragged in with them. It had all been some kind of... dream... maybe. Vivid hallucination? Alternate reali-- naw, that was plum crazy. Maybe just a big conjoined mental orgy for a butt-load of people, that been forced to join without knowing.
Buildings had fallen, battles had been waged... and at some point she'd started @*^#$&@% caring about things. Seriously, what kind of backwards crap was that?
She could remember all of it, too.... Faces and names.... Things people had told her, and goddammit, things she'd shared with them too. Not to mention a certain someone inexplicably throwing his life away for hers, while others she knew up n' died on her before she'd even had the chance to say goodbye. All of it was nice, fresh, and festering in her brain, taunting her with the knowledge that she'd pulled a complete one-eighty on herself.
It was the biggest headache of her life, and she felt robbed that she'd not even been able to drink herself into a stupor before it happened. But, C'est la vie, now was the time to stew on things and rectify what had been done to her.
...Mainly by fixing her current state of sober, and then punching as many faces as she could find until she felt better. Speaking of drinks...
"Dude... who's arm do I have to twist to get a refill over here?" Who cares if she was in a popular bar on one of the busiest night of the week, and so what if everyone else had a right to get served right along with her. She didn't care one bit. Her cup was broken, and someone needed to fix it before she lodged it in a wall.
Compliments will get you everywhere... Grinning to herself as she set about dressing, Megan smiled to herself. She'd certainly set out to do what she'd intended, even if it had some downsides. It was, in a way, kind of refreshing. She'd broadened her horizons a little, and hey, it hadn't been with a complete jerkface either!
"Hey, those are your clothes, right?"
Well, not a complete jerkface.
They are now... She mused to herself, glancing at her reflection slyly. "Of course they are! You think I'd want to wear your clothing? Please, so last decade."
With her dress tugged down over her shirt, and his pants currently being buttoned around her hips, she felt decent again. His pants were different than her's, that much was clear, but with a little creative thinking she made that problem disappear. Rolling the legs up snugly until they vanished under her dress, she slipped on her socks and exited the bathroom to find her shoes. Leaving behind her own pants, rumpled in a confusing pile in one corner, and the contents of his pockets laid out on the counter.
Pausing in the bedroom, where he'd seated himself on the bed, the twenty six year old eyed him for a moment. Maybe it was the fact that she'd shared part of herself with him, or the fact that she still felt oddly comfortable around him. But... "Hey... you gonna be okay?" It's not like she was an expert on relationships or anything, but.. he had looked pretty bummed when he'd left for that meeting of his. "Not that i'm gonna hold your hand or anything... but, if you ever wanna get out of this apartment and drink yourself silly, i'll be your D.D."
...That was probably as good a pep-talk as he was getting out of her. After wandering out to snag her shoes, then returning to plop down onto the bed next to him while she slipped them on, she eyed him quizzically while attempting to get wet hair to cooperate with her.
Megan reflected on the last time she'd done any kind of decorating with web in someone else's place. It had been worth it, but she'd been more than a little drunk, and angry. Nathan, his annoying charm aside, didn't deserve that level of revenge.
....yet.
"Wouldn't be the first time." She replied, in response to her wandering around in the city while less than decent. "Not exactly a helpless damsel, you know." She could handle herself in most cases, and was quite proud of that fact. Striding forward into the bathroom, she neglected to notice him step on the back of the trailing sheet.
With barely a tug in resistance, she found herself suddenly bare. Wrinkling her nose, she shot a quick glare back at him over her shoulder, before placing her nose haughtily back in the air. "Fine, fine. Take it... looked better on me than it did on your bed, though." Throwing on the short t-shirt she'd been wearing under her dress, she smirked at him before waltzing through the other doorway to gather the rest of her clothes. If she remembered correctly, she'd left her stretchy pants-turned leggings draped over a chair, and her dress was wadded up somewhere near by, with her socks.
Gathering them as quickly as she could, the whole while brazenly stomping around his apartment with nothing covering her lower half, she returned to the bathroom and started to get changed.
... if she hadn't been too busy laughing, she might have been upset. "I'll keep that in mind next time I need a tuneup." Kneeling, she fished her shirt out from under his bed. Then, dragging the sheet with her, she made her way toward the door that led to the bathroom, while he crawled out of the bed as well.
"Actually... I was thinking about sticking around. Raiding the fridge some more... maybe re-decorating the living room a little." Glancing back, she barely managed keep herself from grinning. She'd made a habit out of claiming peoples houses and apartments for her own, with or without their knowledge. The idea of dragging a few of her belongings over with her next time she happened by, just to see if it got a reaction out of him, was a hard one to ignore.
"And who say's I need my pants to leave? I've got a perfectly good toga." Throwing one corner of the sheet over her shoulder, she tossed her head back in a haughty manner and entered the bathroom where his clothes were still strewn about the floor.
"Shame, that kinda takes away the excuse I was giving you for being so rusty."
"Ha!"
Though still grumpy, she dropped the glare with a bark of laughter and tried to evade his pillow. At least he could take an insult. Most guys were so boringly offended. "Yeah, well i'm working on it. Gotta work all the kinks out before I try and take on the real men, right?"
Winking at him, she scrambled off the bed before he could take another shot with the pillow, and took the blanket she was covering herself with too. It was much easier to deal with...er.. her character flaws through humor, even if it was angry, bitter, sarcastic humor.
"Trust me, this is our little secret. Wouldn’t want to scare you off next time you need someone to hold you close."
Her response came in the from of an agonized groan into her pillow. The guy sure had a mouth on him, and liked using it. Unfortunately, he seemed to like using it to poke fun at her... and there wasn’t much she could do about it since it had all been her big idea in the first place.
"Hey Meg. Thanks for this. I needed a distraction. Or maybe just a mind-blanking release. Not to make things emotional, but yeah, thanks."
Had... had he just thanked her for sex? Good god, what had she gotten herself into. Besides that, he kept touching her all affectionately. Why exactly, she couldn’t fathom. Vicente never did that, and wasn’t this generally around the time when they were both supposed to get up and go their separate ways, anyway? Because she was getting the distinct feeling that he had other plans in mind. Maybe... hopefully she was wrong.
"Besides, I never realized how cute it was to hear my name spoken in such a shaky, longing voice."
"Oh yeah, that... Well, couldn't really remember the name of the other guy I was thinking about...sooo...." In one smooth motion she sat up and slung her pillow at him, grumbling under her breath. The spider mother then curled the blankets around her and glared at him ruefully. If he was gonna jab at her, then she was gonna try and jab right back at him too.
The arm around her throat dropped away, and Megan danced to the side before the guy's suddenly limp body could crush her underneath him as he pitched forward. With surprise written all over her face (though, it was mostly hidden and therefore not all that important), she caught sight of Allison with stun gun in hand and grinned. A swift thumbs up was all the thanks she managed to give before the fight followed the ink wielding mutant over to where Megan had been struggling with her assailant.
With one man down, that Allison had just attacked, and the man Megan herself had been fighting still clawing at himself in terror, she turned her attention to who was left of the rest of them. At the same time, the woman who'd been under attack in the first place fell along side Allison and herself, knife in hand and ready.
It appeared that Allison had taken care of at least two others, as they were only facing the older male who'd started the problem (and also insinuated that they were a bunch of no good lousy clowns), and a young kid at his side. One looked downright pissed, and for good reason. Nearly his entire gang had been reduced to groaning, screaming, bleeding idiots. The other, though, the kid... looked... please?
Wait... where had she seen that kid before? He looked so famili--
"Ohcrap..." The second after the words left her lips, the older man raised his hand and motioned for the kid at his side to do something. Instantly there was whoos of air, and a dense fog rolled out from seemingly nowhere, covering the entire area in a second flat. $@! She'd run across the little bastard once before... and had been forced to run away with her tail tucked firmly betwixt her legs. "Move back!" She hollered, as the air became steadily harder and harder to breath.
"The kid's a mutant! Move back outta range! If, that is, they could figure out where 'out of range' was...
The kid in question started laughing. A little extra energy went into his talent, and the fog rolled away with another whooosh, creating a churning circle around the area. The pressure suddenly doubled, making it a whole heck of a lot harder to breath, and move for that matter.
"...See, ladies? This is why I'm gonna win. Get ready to meet your makers." From within a nice little bubble of unaffected atmosphere around the kid, the man grinned, folded his arms across his chest and waited. He didn't even seem to care all that much that his own men were stuck within the danger zone, either.
"Yeah... sorry. I'm alright." The moment he let her go, she made for the cover close by, preparing herself as she goes.
"I'll warn ya if anything happens. Nip on the shoulder, as usual." The fuzzy black spider she'd stuck on him during the jump scrambled onto the back of his neck and hunkered down as well. Megan watched him leave before she plopped her back squarely against the cover behind her, and forced herself back into a vision.
A few glimpses of him making his way closer to the site of trouble popped up, as well as a quick glimpse of whoever it was that had caused all of the trouble. From what Megan could tell, it was a she. Long hair, or what she assumed was hair, and a dirty red raincoat being her only clue.
... was that green skin she saw? Furrowing her brow and squinting, she attempted to zero in on that image, through the spider currently seeing it. Yes. Green skin it was; of some sort, anyway.
So they were dealing with an obvious mutant?
The mutant in question turned, eyes scanning the area, and managed to accidentally make eye contact with the spider she didn't know was watching her. Meg's link suddenly went dark, and she was forced to try and find more answered from another arachnid. The one she managed to get a few visuals from, though, sent her dramatically different pictures. The bodies she'd been notified of before suddenly became very, very interesting. She could see fuzzy grey splotches as her scout circled around it. Glimpses of the wounds that had supposedly killed the man.
"Is... is that...?" Throwing all of her focus onto that one spider, she attempted to see the picture clearer. Even as a throbbing ache started up behind her eyes, and she could tell that she'd be left blinded and disoriented for quite a while. Once she realized how closely the markings matched others wounds she'd seen before, Megan was up and bolting out from behind her cover in a split second.
With her pistol in hand, she ran, jumped, and hopped over anything in her way in a mad dash to make it to the Judge's side before he discovered for himself what he was up against... and while she was at it, she ordered the spider on him to bite as a warning.
"Is there a half way point? Some cover I can drop you at? Maybe something ten meters away... Ten good steps. That should be enough."
Pausing, since she had no answer on hand, she squinted and glanced back out. It was impossible to visually make out where good cover would be from where she currently was, so she turned back to her spiders for an answer. A moment later, with a bit of a headache and her vision once again fuzzy and distorted, she had one.
"I do see one... it's a little farther away than ten meters, but it's got enough room for me to take shelter behind." She nodded once more to the last bit he said, agreeing readily. Her children still couldn't see anyone other than the one lone figure.
"I'm ready when you are... I'll be ready to provide you with some cover fire, just in case you need it." She patted the old, dented .45 at her hip, which she was still getting used to using, and waited for him to make his move.
”Your voice is a little shaky…I didn’t peg you as the sweet and innocent type.”
How on earth did he expect her to talk back if he just kept kissing her? It was nice and all, and somewhat distracting since she was having a hard time keeping pace, but she felt rather inclined to respond to such terrible slander of her person. Her, sweet? Ha! Innocent? Haha! Two words used to describe her that were honestly, probably, so far off it was laughable. If she could just get a word in edgewise, when they both had to part for air or something, then she'd tell him just that! ...hey, when had they moved into the bathroom?
Blinking, Megan stood awkwardly where she'd been left when he parted from her, and attempted to maneuver through the fog that had overtaken her mind. She'd been so caught up in his attention, and her own inner ranting, that she honestly hadn't realized they'd been moving the whole time.
... her skin was still warm from where he'd been touching her.
”You coming? I promise to play nice,”
Snapping out of it again, she realized two things. One; the shower was going and steam was already rolling out, and Two; he'd managed to shed his clothes without her realizing. She was now the most dressed body in the room. After catching more than an eyeful of him, she also managed to get a glimpse of herself in misted over mirror. Tomato red in the face, standing in a bathrobe that wasn't going it's job right, in someone else's bathroom. And said someone was currently waiting for her in the shower.... right... behind her...
Huffing, she shed the robe and mentally rolled up her sleeves. He'd issued a challenge (or at least in her mind he had), and she wasn't about to back down from it. Come hell or soapy water, she was going to show a thing or two! With a confident smirk slapped back on her lips, even if it did take all of the effort left in her body to do so, she tugged the shower curtain aside and hauled herself arrogantly into the steam.
She'd prove to him that she was a force to be reckoned with, red-faced or not!
**FTB**
...Or not.
Somehow between attempting to pull herself together, the heat of the shower, and another onslaught of mouth to mouth, and the frenzy of movement from the bathroom to his bed... she'd forgot all about her plan. She'd failed horribly at running the show, and had instead fallen into the pitiful part of a mewling, meek mouse of a woman. Which was why she felt perfectly justified to mope and pout into a pillow, with his bed sheets wrapped around her.
God... Kill me now... "If you tell anyone about all of those things I said, I will never forgive you." She figured that he could hear her, even with while laying face first in her pillow-of-shame.
And if he hadn't, well... she'd just have to sit up and threaten him again. Loudly.