The X-men run missions and work together with the NYPD, striving to maintain a peaceful balance between humans and mutants. When it comes to a fight, they won't back down from protecting those who need their help.
Haven presents itself as a humanitarian organization for activists, leaders, and high society, yet mutants are the secret leaders working to protect and serve their kind. Behind the scenes they bring their goals into reality.
From the time when mutants became known to the world, SUPER was founded as a black-ops division of the CIA in an attempt to classify, observe, and learn more about this new and rising threat.
The Syndicate works to help bring mutantkind to the forefront of the world. They work from the shadows, a beacon of hope for mutants, but a bane to mankind. With their guiding hand, humanity will finally find extinction.
Since the existence of mutants was first revealed in the nineties, the world has become a changed place. Whether they're genetic misfits or the next stage in humanity's evolution, there's no denying their growing numbers, especially in hubs like New York City. The NYPD has a division devoted to mutant related crimes. Super-powered vigilantes help to maintain the peace. Those who style themselves as Homo Superior work to tear society apart for rebuilding in their own image.
MRO is an intermediate to advanced writing level original character, original plot X-Men RPG. We've been open and active since October of 2005. You can play as a mutant, human, or Adapted— one of the rare humans who nullify mutant powers by their very existence. Goodies, baddies, and neutrals are all welcome.
Short Term Plots:Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
The Fountain of Youth
A chemical serum has been released that's shaving a few years off of the population. In some cases, found to be temporary, and in others...?
MRO MOVES WITH CURRENT TIME: What month and year it is now in real life, it's the same for MRO, too.
Fuegogrande: "Fuegogrande" player of The Ranger, Ion, Rhia, and Null
Neopolitan: "Aly" player of Rebecca Grey, Stephanie Graves, Marisol Cervantes, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, Sabine Sang, Eupraxia
Ongoing Plots
Magic and Mystics
After the events of the 2020 Harvest Moon and the following Winter Solstice, magic has started manifesting in the MROvere! With the efforts of the Welldrinker Cult, people are being converted into Mystics, a species of people genetically disposed to be great conduits for magical energy.
The Pharoah Dynasty
An ancient sorceress is on a quest to bring her long-lost warrior-king to the modern era in a bid for global domination. Can the heroes of the modern world stop her before all is lost?
Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
Adapteds
What if the human race began to adapt to the mutant threat? What if the human race changed ever so subtly... without the x-gene.
Atlanteans
The lost city of Atlantis has been found! Refugees from this undersea mutant dystopia have started to filter in to New York as citizens and businessfolk. You may make one as a player character of run into one on the street.
Got a plot in mind?
MRO plots are player-created the Mods facilitate and organize the big ones, but we get the ideas from you. Do you have a plot in mind, and want to know whether it needs Mod approval? Check out our plot guidelines.
He... by nature, destroyed a lot of phones. Phones didn't agree with him. He was a fighter. He tended to fry phones that were minding their own business in his pocket. Hundreds of phones had been lost to him, and never once had he just wanted to break a phone of his own volition. Until now.
He hated that phone. He wanted to throw it off of a cliff into spikes, hit it with lightning bolts on the way down. He looked over to the source of the sound, and she took that opportunity to duck away and make range.
@#$%.
His lingering neck bracing hand clenched into a fist for a second, and he stood tall, watching her with a raised eyebrow as she announced that she had a planned stip to the range. Range... Home on the range?... wilderness? She invited him to the wilderness to show him proper technique... Interesting."
He smiled a bit. "Yes." It was cramped here, after all, and perhaps what she had planned required more space. Okay, he was in. He was excited, even!
He placed a hand on the sheets, watching her quietly as she warmed at the face. Interesting. Was she running a fever? No... He'd seen this before. A small smirk made its way onto his face, which was interrupted when she suddenly pressed the sheets onto him, and he grinned as she stormed off.
He tossed the sheets onto the fold out bed, letting them land in their folded state.
She returned moments later, and handed him a silly shirt that he was absolutely going to be wearing later. He reached out to grab it from her hands... and tossed it to the side as well, before grabbing her hand gently, and placing her palm against his chest. With his other hand, he would aim reach down to the base of her neck, and pull her into a deep kiss.
She started talking more about combat, and he smiled a bit as he nodded. "Expectation is different from reality." That was always the case. He'd run into many who had an expectation for what a fight was, and thus, when he killed them, they often died too fast to be surprised. Though some also spoke to the trauma of killing, he couldn't say he felt too much of a burden from it.
"It helps with muscle memory. Form is important, though alone it is just a framework." Just as soon as their interesting conversation about killing had started, it was over. He watched her limp out of the room, and his eyes widened.
Oh. She was going to slip into something more comfortable.
He stood, and looked around. The bed was laid out, No, wasn't the type to lay and wait. He would be better off getting out of these sweaty clothes. Taking off his track suit jacket, and his under shirt, he looked over as the sun peeked through the blinds, showering him in rays of light.
He heard her voice from the other room, stretched lightly as he responded. "I have not. Though I usually eat after." He looked over as she appeared again with the sheets to the bed in hand. As he reached out to grab them, he noticed the knee brace.
That might complicate things... Though... No, he knew plenty of ways to make things happen with that in the way. If she was determined, he would accommodate.
Setting up at bed at 9am was pretty determined, if you asked him.
He nodded at her statement. "I have Bonsai." He wondered how they were doing. "I like guns. I am not a very good shot. I am better with a sword." He watched her disarm herself with invested interest. What a bad ass.
Damn.
And then she started talking about books about killing people. He tilted his head at her suggestion. "I have not. Maybe I should."
He started a bit as she began to fold out the couch, nodding to himself. They were doing this; it made sense that she would want the small bit of extra room this space allowed. He stood to go help her, nodding as the folded out, and he gave it a good long look over.
"Yes, is enough space for us." He turned and walked back over to his drink, finishing it off before looking back to see her tuck away the knife.
Wait, what? Was she still trying to... Oh... This might still be a battle. Such an added implement wouldn't be as much of an issue, now that he was aware of it. Still, why was she so eager? He would be happy with waiting until her condition had improved before their impending battle to the death.
In the meantime, there were plenty of ways to pass the time without her having to bend that knee all too much.
She... Didn't say anything. Was she waiting for him to speak? Was... she trying to force him into a position of weakness? No. That was silly. She had invited him to her inner sanctum. She was clearly, madly in love with him. He couldn't blame her.
He took a long sip from his drink, and set it down, looking to her for a little bit longer before turning his attention to the room once more. "You tend to a lot of plants." He stated, reaching out to stroke a vine next to him. "You have a lot of guns." His eyes drifted to her book shelves, reading the spines.
"You are an interesting woman."
He looked down to her knee once again, frowning. "I hope it does not hurt too badly. I do feel like I owe you, now." Crossing his arms, he leaned back in the chair. "I have read many of these books. My favorite. Right there." He pointed to the book of five rings. It was in Japanese. She was well traveled, which made sense.
"I would like to stay here, tonight." He... wasn't the type to beat around the bush. All cards on the table.
He would follow her directions promptly, thankful it was a short trip, though not too overburdened by carrying her all of the way. She was good at giving instructions, and he was strong. The part of town didn't bother him in the least. He had lived in many different kinds of places and settings in his life. Crouching down a bit to allow her to unlock the doors, he helped her in, and immediately noticed the collection of weapons.
He wasn't surprised. The cavalier placement told him she feared nothing. If someone broke in, they could have their own gun. They would need it to try to protect themselves from her. He found his heart bumping quickly. Scanning the rest of the surroundings he saw... She was neat. Her sense of style was... oddly phoned in. Ah. KGB? A sleeper agent of a sort? He retrieved the ice pack for her, and quickly moved to help her as she started moving things around.
"You are okay to move things?"
Stubborn, wasn't she? Maybe not used to having people see her vulnerable like this. He wondered how she managed to fight in such a cramped space, though. Perhaps she more often did her business in the homes of others.
Wait... if that was the case. Did that mean. He looked back to her as she spoke. "I will make us some." He assessed what was there, and got started making a few drinks. He'd actually been a bartender before, though it was more as a cover for a trafficking operation. Still, he'd managed to pick up a few things.
In moments, he was taking a seat, and passing her a drink. He was a bit of a heavy pourer, but his mixing sensibilities made, well, sense.
He took a sip of his drink, and then sat, comfortable, and watched her, silently. Intently.
The ronin didn't humor her Huh. He felt it was all pretty self explanitory. He had pressured her to compete in spite of her injury, and she had iritated it in the process. He was responsible, and thus he would take responsibility.
He looked to her as she grunted, wondering if he'd caused her more pain. For a brief second he wondered if he should toss her into traffic while he had the upper hand, but no, that would be the weaklings way through this situation. He would take her home.
Raijin nodded as she opted to be take home, and awaited directions, walking to them as she did. She asked how he planned to settle their bout, and he couldn't help but chuckle at her obvious joke suggestions. "I think, we focus on icing you first. Then we can talk how we settle."
He felt a tension, and it wasn't her weight, as he trodded along with her in his arms. She could likely shoot him right here, with his arms taken up by her. He would be defenseless, but he had the feeling she was the same as he was. She wanted a good victory, and he respected that.
"If I have set you back in your recovery, I will have to make it up to you." He spoke off handedly as he made his way quickly. Even to someone as strong as he, he didn't exactly want to loligag while holding another fully grown human being. Especially one who may change her mind about killing him any second.
Part of him wondered what her living space would look like... It would tell him a lot about her, at least. Unless she'd planned all of this, and he was falling into her trap.
She was laughing it off, though he supposed it was her coping mechanism. He tended to stay silent through pain. People who fought and killed as often as they did always had some way to deal with pain. She was going to be lighthearted about it.
She stated what he'd gathered, she'd trained hard for her quickness. It had likely helped her in many occasions. He paused to reach up and brush some dirt from her cheek. She stated that she was competitive, and that he'd started it.
Had he? Was he responsible for this? "Well... Then I should take responsibility."
As she tried to get up, his strong arms gently looped around her legs and back, and he lifted her up in them. "There. Do you wish to go home, or to a place to be seen?"
He didn't seem to be too encumbered by her weight as he climbed into the path once more. "I feel this is an unfair way to settle our challenge. I am not satisfied with calling this a victory."
A smile of intense satisfaction settled on his face as he heard her footfalls dying off behind him. He had defeated her. He was more of a force of nature, a deity of death beyond compare. How could he think for a second that someone might be more dangerous than he? What was that sound... Was that-
Thud-thudthudthudthudthudTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUD
She was past him in an instant. His eyes widened as he watched her zoom past. It couldn't be helped, she was an olympic level dasher, not that he knew. Instead, he just knew she was FAST. The way she moved in that moment, with such grace, power, and confidence.
He had to know.
He had to know for sure, metaphor and comparison aside. Who was the better warrior? Maybe she would keep running, now that she had bested him in this. It would be a wise move, to just keep running, leave him in the dust, wondering.
It would slay him as surely as she would try to do when he finally caved and crawled into her bed.
Oh, wait, An-Chan, you are supposed to turn ther- Oh, ouch. Moments after she ate shit, he hopped off of the path, and landed in a three point slam, looking up to her to examine her.
"It was your knee, was it not?" He immediately stood and walked over her, feeling her leg for signs of injury.
It was a shame, was it not? That she was hurt so. Such an impressive being, damaged in such a way. He hadn't understood the extent of it until just a moment ago; she was simply the fastest person he had ever seen in person, and here she was, fallen after a short sprint.
"You are fast." It was a simple statement, but to him, profound. He checked for any swelling as he made eye contact, and started trying to bend the knee to see if she still had full range of motion, and if it was painful to move. "That was... foolish."
He was lucky he was just a little behind her when she blushed. He might have tackled her right then and there. He spent much of his time on the verge of retreating, or doing just that. It was the balance of an intense battle, though with words and subtle actions.
Until she bragged about her exploits once more. He was lucky once again that she couldn't see his face... His eyes widened intensely as she mentioned her medals for defeating people in bed. They... Gave medals? And he didn't have any?!
This drove him further. Forward. Past her. She sped up in response. She was using this... as a metaphor for her prowess. He had to perform. He had to show her she had met her equal. "I, too have bested many! Perhaps we will see what you are made of!"
He sped up once more. He was fast. Very fast. Many times, being just a little faster than his opponent had lead to victory. Confidence in that speed was intertwined with the swagger he carried himself with.
He was more built for going faster, for a shorter amount of time though. He couldn't keep this pace forever.
She was slightly ahead of him, setting the pace, so she likely didn't catch his eyebrows raise as she replied to his suggestive statement by saying it sounded exciting. Wait... Which intense thing? Killing people in deadly sword fights, or driving them to new heights of pleasure in dark rooms? He suspected she was experienced at both of those things at this point.
He tilted his head at her statement about getting into regular workouts. Was he... What was the american word... a Rebound? That was it. He was a black widow rebound... Provided he didn't win her over, and make her fall for him, and thus choose meet him in intimate combat, where he could best her and leave with his life.
He nearly fell over when she suddenly confided in him her incredible skills. One minute?! She was that good? And incourigible, considering she openly stated she liked to repeat over and over until she was out of stamina... She didn't attack her unforunate mates... She drained them of their very souls until they could go no longer. His jaw clenched for a moment, and he nodded. She was going in for the kill. Slow things down. Gods, he was imagining some things...
"Ah. Well... You must be exceptionally talented... Many must have fallen to you." Oh, right they were talking about her knee as well, weren't they? This conversation had taken a turn to the most fascinating. He hated to take her on when she was weakened, but did Miyamoto Musashi not down several opponents while being chased around the mountainside. She likely did the same... and at 70% of her maximum power no less.
He had to be a complete monster in bed. He started to wonder... could he tame her? He was getting ahead of himself. He needed to win the first game in order to even get a shot.
She laughed when he said he would take clothes off. He wasn't sure why, he hadn't told a joke. Wait, was she belittling him in order to gain an advantage?! A shift in tactics? Maybe... Maybe she was trying to provoke a competitive spirit in order to shake his confidence, and force him to make a move.
This was dangerous. She started moving at a slow pace, and he easily kept up; he was in excellent shape, after all. He couldn't help but notice, though, that every time he started to geta feel for the pace, she sped up. She WAS challenging him. How did he respond? If he pushed faster, it would make him seem less confident; anyone who freaked out and acted rashly in a situtation like this was easy prey.
No, he had to maintain a stoic air. Her attacks had no effect on him. He sped up, keeping the pace. "I work out often. Jogging, less. I am more used to sudden, intense workouts." It was a decent day, so you better bet he stole his fair share of glances her way. She was good looking... All the better to lure men to their erotic deaths to.
He swore he would defeat her.
Out came the warning. Or... an encoded message? Was... she opening up to him? Had... others failed to keep up with her in the bed room? It started to fall together. "Do not worry about me. I have excellent stamina. I can last for hours." That being said... It was going to be a good work out. She was clearly quite a runner, and be doubted she was pulling out the stops. She had an injury, after all. "Your leg... Has it been getting better?" It was just a random thought that popped into his head.
"Ahhh, An-Chan. I am not worried! If I get hot, I will take off clothes." He looked to her, nodding in approval.
She was looking dangerous; her clothing strategically placed to barely conceal her instrument of death. It got his blood boiling more than the track suit.
She'd opted to stretch before. Clever, he wouldn't be able to employ the same technique as last time. A strong opening, but one he might be able to combat if he were careful. He just had to wear her out enough to get her to need to stretch again...
Then again, she was a runner, was she not? He wondered if he could. He welcomed the challenge. "I am."
He was smelling his pitts when she responded. Woof. He needed to clean up.
Meal prep. Is that what she called it? He imagined her cleaning weapons. Hot.
He was in the shower when she replied, and leaned out to stare at the text for a long moment. Okay. Okay, she was going for the throat. Go right back, then! He couldn't let her win this confrontation.
<You.>
No! @#$% no, wait, that was too desperate.
<To jog. Jogging partner. Send button lol>
Good save. Good save? Damn. He would need jogging garb. He knew he was better in person, right? He could look her in the eye, gage her killer intent.
Yes, he could meet her in the park once more, perhaps.
> was the winky face too much?