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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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.
Sam turned to fetch the drinks, and Jack sat the duffle onto the floor. He closed his eyes for a moment, seemingly enjoying the music. Sam’s place had been a second home to Jack once, many years ago. Way back when, Sam’s father had been the one pouring the drinks until a heart attack got him, but other than the faces, nothing changed in Sam’s. Jack used to spend his time here, either trying to find an easy woman, or trying to drink away the idea that he was a monster of a man. An increasingly pathetic drunk who dived further into the bottle to seek solace in delusion. A man who tried to forget the horrors he took pride in, no matter how much he had tried to convince himself that he didn’t.
Luckily, Jack had made peace with himself since then.
Sam returned. Placing two napkins down he sat the Black Russian before Juniper and a glass bottle of cola before Jack. Jack thanked the barman, and gestured to a booth. Setting the duffle down, he slid himself in with his back to the wall. Jack took a long, refreshing gulp of his drink. He stared at Juniper, as though trying to puzzle her out. The absurd thought that it had been decades since he had last sat in this bar with a pretty blonde for company wormed its way into his brain, almost causing him to chuckle out loud.
He had questions, of course. Had had them since the girl had literally fallen into his life.
“What do you think?” he asked, gesturing around the venue. “A bit retro, but I find most bars too noisy and crowded for my tastes these days.”
He inclined his head as Juniper accepted his offer. “I imagine most people would slow you down. Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find work more suited to your talents.” She was a solo operator then. That was a plus. Less baggage attached. A brief war of emotions played out on her expression, before she accepted his offer. He smiled.
“Yeah, I know a place. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He headed to the back door, pointedly ignoring the mattress in the room. Pushing it slowly open, he checked that the alleyway was clear, before holding the door open for Juniper.
It wasn’t a far walk. Only a few blocks away. Jack walked contentedly in silence, a smile playing at his lips, his posture relaxed and upright as he walked. Like he hadn’t just murdered a man. It long ago. The Rudolph job hadn’t gone quite the way it was meant to. His client probably wouldn’t weep any tears for the late pawnbroker, but there might be smoothing over that would need taking care of. Still, it worth the future headache. His client would most probably buy Rudolph’s place outright now, and Jack had a new associate in the making.
What a marvellous night!
He led Juniper down a small set of stairs to a small basement dive bar, tucked away from obvious sight. There was no sign on display. He rapped his knuckles on the door, which was opened by a large, dark-skinned bouncer. The sound of music and the smell of tobacco wafted from inside. The bouncer nodded respectfully. “Evening Jack.”
Jack returned the greeting. “Julian.” He gestured for Juniper to follow. Julian offered Juniper a friendly nod in acknowledgement.
It was a small, smokey, and sparsely populated place, like something out of the 1960’s. Booths lined the walls, tables spread across the floor. Classic movie posters lined the wall in gilded frames, accompanied by a variety of photographs. There was a jukebox in the corner, old rock music currently being played at a tolerable level. A classic floating bar stood in the centre of the room, polished mahogany glinting in the dim light. An old man stood behind, polishing the bottles on the shelves. He turned and beamed a welcome to the newcomers. “Jack! Good to see you. The usual?”
“Evening Sam,” Jack said with a smile. He nodded and turned to Juniper. “What’s your poison?”
Jack’s brows rose, his expression somewhere between bemusement and disappointment. “Oh, most probably. Still, seems a strange line to draw after helping me out here. You sure?”
A thief with a conscience? Moral codes were tricky bastards to navigate. His gaze flicked to the stained mattress. He shrugged, crouching to tip the contents of her denied reward into his bag. He zipped the duffle and stood. Smiling, reached into his pocket and pulled out his own small roll of notes, making a show of wiping it on his sleeve before holding it out. “Consider this a commission, then. Cleaning service. Saves me the trouble of hiring someone else later.” He would, of course, ensure that someone was sent later, despite how thorough she’d been. He had a standard of professionalism to maintain.
He grinned, and held out the money. “Or, if you’d like, a down payment. For possible...future employment opportunities.”
Hefting the duffle onto his shoulder, he rolled his neck, small pops issuing from the joints. “You want a drink? It’s been a busy night. I feel like we should talk.”
He stepped through the doorway, not bothering to answer her question. She had followed his lead so far, when she had been more than capable of taking the money and running. No reason to think she’d bolt now. No contacts in the back room, only the wide-open exit to the alley. Juniper stepped through the wall moments after. Warily, Jack holstered his pistol. “Seems that way,” he replied. Making his way to the shelves, Jack grabbed two small duffle bags from a pile. He turned and saw Juniper frozen mid stride. He followed her gaze. He saw the mattress. He saw the stains and the mess. He raised his brows, genuinely finding himself surprised. He hadn’t thought Rudolph had had the balls to get his hands this dirty.
“Hn. Guess he was getting desperate,” Jack muttered to himself. He took a moment to watch how Juniper would react. So far, she hadn’t flinched, even from a point-blank execution. Still, everyone has their limit, their line.
Well... Mostly everyone.
“Hey,” he said, softly but firmly. He waited until he had the girl’s attention, before nodding towards a small open laptop set on the desk, surveillance footage displaying the mess they had left out front. “Can you delete the footage?” he asked. Better to keep the girl focused.
He stepped out of the back office and back to the counter, setting the bags down on either side of the pile. Into one he placed the jewellery, the weapons, and four stacks of cash from the safe. Into the other bag, everything else. Loose cash and the rest of the bound money stacks. A decent haul, all considering. Satisfied, he carried them into the back office, placing them down.
“I’ve settled what Rudolph owed.” He pointed to the back containing the weapons and jewellery. “I wasn’t sure if you were in contact with a fence, so I’ve accounted for the hard items.” He pointed to the bag with cash only.
She’d passed the tests. Time to see whether she was ready to graduate.
“That,” he began, looking Juniper in the eyes, ”is your share.”
It seemed reasonable enough. A standard order of expendables out front with the heavy hitters inside the facility. Standard fare as far as armaments go, though the piercing rounds might complicate things. He smirked as Aura mentioned that she had been the cause of their issue. Seemed she was a victim of her own success. Still, given her history with these types of facilities, there was a reassurance that he was partnering with her, and not some over-enthusiastic cowboy.
She...was very open about her abilities and history, for a mercenary. Somehow that had the effect of being simultaneously a welcome openness in communication, as well as being utterly disconcerting. For tactical sake, it made perfect sense. The young woman had disclosed her abilities frankly and honestly, giving him a clear idea of her skill set. He admired the efficiency and trust it demonstrated. Wanted criminals rarely made themselves so vulnerable. It was a strange feeling...
He looked her over once more, hiding his surprise as she mentioned being trained from such a young age. Twelve... Gods above. He had been fifteen when he had signed up, months before he’d been selected for...reassignment. Barely sixteen when they’d shipped him out. A question sprang to mind, one that he’d file away for later. Had she been part of a government program as well, or something altogether different?
Suddenly, Aura’s dark reputation made a whole lot more sense.
He took the time to inspect the map, committing the layout to memory. Chewing another piece of meat, he glanced thoughtfully at Aura. Her pink glow of ability was deceivingly beautiful, considering what it could do. “None that come to mind,” he answered. “Should be easy enough to get past the rent-a-cops. If we can find a ventilation shaft, I’ll have no trouble getting inside. The hard part is going to be making to the sub level.” He thought for a moment. “If you really wanna do this without blood, we may need a distraction. Either take out the power, or go old fashioned and set something on fire.”
Aion gave a small sigh to himself, and activated his powers. He wasn’t used to placing his cards on the table so early. “I served in the War. Infantry and special operations, so I’m no stranger to behind the lines work.” Aion pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped the blade his pocket knife clean, replacing them both in his pocket. His face began to visibly age in front of Aura. It was subtle at first. A slight deepening of wrinkles, a loosening of the skin. His hair began to gradually thin and fall loose, his hairline creeping slowly back, it’s chestnut colour beginning to grey.
It wasn’t long before Aura was face to face with an old man. “As for my abilities...” He waved a hand towards his face, before shifting back to his twenties, his features reverting as though the prior event was being watched in reverse. “Pretty self explanatory.” He ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back down. “I can shift anywhere from five to eighty years old.”
He took one last look at the map, before pushing his plate away and standing to stretch his muscles. “This is your show, so I’m happy to follow your lead on this.”
Ah, there it was. Confirmation. She had crossed paths with the mob at some stage. “Hn. Employment, or did you piss somebody off?” New York had a number of mob families and affiliates. He figured it best he didn’t mention that if she was on the list of anyone he worked with, they’d have probably already met.
His brows drew upwards as she lifted the door straight from its hinges like it were nothing. He gave a small snort of amusement. “Full of surprises...” With a nod of appreciation he stepped through the open threshold and made his way to the register, seemingly oblivious to the corpse phased through the cage next to him. With a jarring ring, the cash drawer slid open jerkily. Jack began emptying its contents onto the counter in front of him, small stacks of notes side by side.
She asked him about his names. “Both. Either. Jack personally, Aion professionally. Depends on the nature of the relationship.” He grinned at the girl. “So I guess it’s up to you. Safe’s behind that cabinet.” He jerked his head towards a battered filing cabinet, a small wall safe hidden behind it. “Put what you find over here.”
Now for the final test.
He kept a his awareness of his surroundings sharp. “Keep an ear open. If the kid is half as stupid as he seemed, I don’t want this ‘Joseph’ shooting us in the back,” he said, walking towards the back door. Reaching into his coat, he drew a suppressed 9mm from his body holster. He took cover against the wall beside the door, listening for the sound of any movement behind. Slowly turning the handle, he paused a moment, before pushing it open a crack. Pistol raised, he glanced through the doorway to see what was behind.
Aion had gambled on this last test. Not on whether or not the boy would fail to comply - there was no doubt in his mind about that. People often thought themselves prepared for violence, thinking they could have enough presence of mind to respond and react. What they rarely thought about was the shocking swiftness with which it could be committed. The speed with which a life can be snuffed out, if one only had the resolve. No, Aion hadn’t gambled on Davis.
He’d gambled on Juniper.
A strange blur of white filled the bottom of his vision, startling him for an instant, until it revealed itself as the back of Juniper’s head. In an instant she had passed straight through him like a phantom, through the counter, and had disarmed the boy with swift efficiency. Aion grinned, this one genuine. She hadn’t hesitated at all! Hadn’t even flinched. He glanced down at poor Rudy, the back of his drooping head a ruined mess. He felt nothing for the man. It hadn’t been personal. Nor had it been professional. Rudolph owed money, but he hadn’t been important enough to warrant a death mark. Before tonight’s events, Aion had been planning on nothing more than extortion and threat.
No, Rudolph had been both example and test.
Aion’s fascination grew as Juniper phased Davis’ gun to pieces. He had suspected her ability to include phasing inanimate objects after watching her demonstration with the pool cue. This, coupled with her threat to pull Davis’ bones from his body, all but confirmed it. Aion made a mental note of this. And her expression, her voice... She spoke and looked...bored, as though the thought of deboning a man were merely an unpleasant chore, like ironing or doing the dishes.
She was becoming all the more valuable.
Aion didn’t react as she let Davis go. He watched the boy scramble through the back, listening to his panting and weeping as the faint sound of a door slammed shut. There was a graveyard silence for a moment, save for the dripping of Rudy’s blood. Aion sighed and put the snub-nose back into his pocket. He raised his brows at the girl. “You sure? He knows your face.”
Stepping around the widening pool of blood, Jack approached the security door between him and behind the counter. “Can you give me a hand with this?” he asked, all trace of threat gone from his aura.
Vindictive and creative. Those were the two adjectives that sprung to mind as Aion watched as Juniper added a length of wood to the man that he wouldn’t be bragging about anytime soon. Even he gave an internal wince at the sight. He watched the glee she took, her willingness and ability to not only disable but to psychologically damage as well. A mental checklist had forming in his mind since he had seen her move through that wall.
Pragmatic as well. She took assurances, taking the boy’s I.D for collateral. He had to admit, she was impressing him more and more. Clearly, this young wanderer from small-town Pennsylvania was no country buttercup. There was a story, there always was. Still, wasn‘t Ike he didn’t have his own. Enough to fill a lifetime, and more.
There it was. Merciful. He had been wondering what she’d do with the thief. He was standing behind Juniper, having not said a word since leaving her to her audition. Watching, expressionless. Interesting how the girl’s anger had not been for the one who had violated her property, but the one who had threatened to violate her. Impulsive. He watched as she took pity on the boy, as she set him free. He watched as Rudolph make the dumbest mistake of his life. He watched Davis go for the counter.
Aion’s expression turned to ice. His hand reached into his coat pocket. He drew the snub nosed .38 revolver. He watched Davis raise the pistol towards Juniper’s back. Barging past Jupiter, Aion took three long strides, raising the pistol to Rudolph’s head.
Davis was young, frightened, and inexperienced.
He hesitated.
With a sharp bang, Aion blew Rudolph’s brains all over the counter and floor.
His dead-eyed gaze fell onto Davis, as did the aim of his pistol. “Drop it.”
Aion’s gaze grew hard and cold as he watched the young thief. “Well,” he began, “I suppose that depends on who you ask.” He broke eye contact and began wandering, inspecting items on the shelves like he was browsing for a Christmas gift. “For Rudolph here, this is the night he is due to pay some associates of his, so that he may stay forever in their good graces. It’s also the night he found himself mixed up in something he wasn’t expecting.” He picked up an electric drill, turning it over in his hands, before placing it back down.
“For young Davis here, I imagine this is a rude awakening, rather than the easy score he thought it would be. As for what this will end up being for him, well...” He paused to flick through a milk crate of records, pulling one out to rest on top.
“For me, this is a job that has become a curious turn of events. One that I am curious to see play out.” He halted in front of a plastic toy stegosaurus. Inspecting it closely, he slid this into his coat pocket.
Completing his circuit of the row of shelves, he returned to stand next to Juniper. “As for what this is for you?” He glanced at the pool cue in her hand and smiled as charmingly as he could manage. “Well that’s the big question, isn’t it?” He arched his brows towards Davis, then back to Juniper, holding her gaze. “What do you want this to be?”
“Oh just you wait, bitch! You don’t know who you’re £!€¥ing with! You hear me! When I get out of here I’ll be the one sticking things in y—“
The door chime rang as Jack calmly entered the store, closing the door behind him before turning the deadlock with a dull click. Slowly, he pulled down the small blind on the door and turned to approach the bizarre situation ahead of him. “Well done!” he cried out, clapping his hands in applause. “Very well done!” His tread was heavy and slow, his boots making every footstep a statement. He was grinning with his teeth, but the expression didn’t quite reach his sunken eyes.
Whatever vulgar threat Rudolph was about to spit towards Juniper died dead on his lips. The blood drained from his face as he slowly glanced up. He licked his lips, and swallowed nervously. The thief continued sobbing.
She had performed admirably! Oh, how Jack’s heart had began to race as he had watched Juniper stride towards the counter. How she had waited until the right moment to move. How she had acted swiftly and decisively. And how she had done so without a moment’s hesitation.
Beautiful.
He stopped before the girl, her reclaimed banjo slung over her shoulder. He gave her a slow once over, his eyes roaming up and down before his gaze settled onto hers. “You looked like you enjoyed that. How do you feel?”
His turned his head and glanced at the stuck pawnbroker, who was struggling to meet his stare. “Evening, Rudy.”
Rudolph gave another dry gulp. “A-Aion...”
Aion stared at Rudy for a silent moment, before sliding his gaze sideways to the weeping thief. “Who’s your little friend?” he asked in a hushed tone.
A small-town girl passing through the big city, then. A common story. A vague non-committal answer that could have hidden any number of truths. Good. She showed a healthy sense of personal safety. Harder to work with initially, but more secure to work with than someone too trusting. He didn’t enquire any further. He smiled good-humouredly at her question. “It’s on the seedier side, but I don’t think you’re going to need to smash anything.”
Still, the fact that she was willing to boded well.
He nodded his head at Juniper. “Good luck.” With that, he turned his attention away from the woman, inspecting the black Les Paul guitar in the front of the store window.
Now for some window shopping...
Rudolph’s was not unlike any other pawn store. It was small and cramped, a narrow strip of a store. A miscellany of parted goods lined racks along the length of the store. Various musical instruments, records, DVDs, televisions and stereos, video game consoles a d games. Displays filled with jewellery. Shelves of sacrificed belongings, ready to find a new home. The place smelled of old sweat and desperation. An electric chime at the door jingled as newcomers emerged inside. At the back of the shop was a counter, a security cage stretching from the countertop to the ceiling. Behind it sat a greasy, fat specimen of a man. His nose was a drunkards red, broken blood vessels lending him his namesake. Slurping noodles from a takeout container, he sat lounged back in a poorly abused office chair, absorbed in the glow of his small television.
“Hey, good for you,” he said encouragingly. “What made you finally take the stage?” Nerves, perhaps? Anxiety? Life circumstances? Maybe she simply wanted to be seen. A whole host of reasons for someone to step into the spotlight.
She wasn’t giving him much to read. She smiled friendly enough, but smiles weren’t hard to fake. She thanked him for showing her the way, and the corners of his lips curled upwards. New to the city. He took in her age, and wondered what bought her here. Was she running from something, or running towards something? Or did she just want to experience the city life that New York had to offer? Plenty enough of those types around.
“Oh yeah? Decided to try your luck in the Big Apple, eh? How are you finding it? Thieves aside, that is...” He rounded a corner and pointed down the end of the street, to a garish yellow sign with 24\7 written on it.
She didn’t bother offering a hand to shake, so he simply smiled vaguely and turned to begin walking, assuming she would keep pace with him. “Jack, he replied, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets, “And don’t worry about it. Some punk knocked off my stuff, I’d be barging through walls to get at them too,” he smirked. “Though in my case, I’d assume the wall might win,” he quipped, glancing sideways at the girl.
He had worked with phasers and mutants with intangibility powers before. In his line of work it was not to be unexpected. They had been few and far between but in his experience often morally flexible. A inevitably he supposed, when you could literally take what you needed or wanted without much trouble. Still, he couldn’t take a measure of the girl beside him based on that alone. There were other factors that needed to be taken into account.
Jack walked at a leisurely pace. He didn’t rush. There was no need to. The chances of them actually running into the culprit weren’t worth counting on, but Rudolph would know which way to point them, and that was in Juniper’s - and his - better interests. “So, you’re a musician?” There was still time for chit-chat. May as well get to know the girl better before he went to work for the evening.
Depending on how the night went, he might not have much of a chance.
“Hey, watch it!” Jack yelled as someone barged past him, almost knocking him over in the process. He swore under his breath, glad he had chosen to go out in his mid-thirties. He’d have been sprawled onto the ground as an old man. No manners, and always in a hurry. That was the problem with people these days. Shaking his head, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and continued walking. He enjoyed this time of year. The energy of the city as it geared up towards Christmas. The cool weather, and the lights and decorations. New York had changed over the decades, but some things tended to stay the same.
Verticality, it seemed, was not one of those things.
She came out of nowhere. Or to be more specific, she came through the wall he had been walking beside. A flying tangle of blonde and limbs. She crashed into him, and they both fell to the ground. It took a moment to untangle, and Jack spent an undignified moment laying there trying to figure out what had just occurred. It had been quite some years since he’d had cute blondes throwing themselves at him...
“You mean that jerk who almost knocked me over?” That had explained why the guy was in such a hurry. Picking himself up, Jack brushed down his coat. He glanced towards the direction the thief had ran, then back to the girl. “There’s a pawn broker three blocks from here. Fellow by the name of Rudolph. It I were a betting man, I’d wager that’s where your quick-footed friend is headed.” It was where he had been heading. He scratched at his chin, calculating his options, before offering a smile to the woman. “Want me to show you?”
After all, it would be impolite not to help a damsel in distress. Especially one who could walk through walls.
Jack dropped the number into the bag, and offered Andrea a knowing wink as she excused herself. “Be safe, my dear! I look forward to it!” With smiles and waves exchanged, the tinkle of the bell rang through the store as Jack and Doris smiled towards the door and the delightful young girl they had both acquainted. Silence settled over the store. Jack’s smile slowly faded to neutral, and slowly, purposefully, he made his away around the counter and opened up Doris’ accounts book. He ignored the look that she gave him.
Andrea Gordon. A name, a number, and an address.
Closing the book, he returned to the front of the counter, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a thick roll of notes. Loosening the elastic band, he started counting out the cost of the Isadora, the pile of notes rapidly growing. A small fortune, paid in full. “Make it $500 for her.”
Doris cocked an eyebrow. “You sure?”
Jack nodded, smiling at his old friend. “Did you hear her? Donating her money to the city. If anyone else had told me that, I would have called bullshit.” He smiled softly to himself. “Be nice for her to be able to own something out of her reach, especially after seeing how much it meant to her.” His gaze fell onto the old photograph and lingered there. Two young fools. Naive, reckless, and far too stupid fo for their own good.
“And..?”
Jack didn’t reply.
“I know you, Jack Hitchcock...”
Wrapping his roll of cash tight, he slipped it back into his pocket and returned to browsing the shelves. Doris watched him, chewing at her bottom lip.
“You know I don’t pry, Jack. I made that promise to you, and I made that promise to Earl. But she’s not...” She narrowed her eyes at the old man. He met her stare, until she dropped her gaze. “She’s sweet. I like her, Jack...” the old woman said quietly.
Jack drew out a book from the shelves, flipping it open, silent for a long moment. “Yeah. I do too.”