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 wasn't thinking about song lyrics. He was thinking about inspiration. He was thinking about the next thirty minutes, and how he would take this strange but mysterious woman to heights she'd never before experienced.
And then she was gone. His heart dropped as he immediately felt a weight he had on him at all times... missing. His hand went to his sword. His not sword. The Raikurai-Gatana was gone. He was on his feet in an instant. He heard her before he saw her.
His voice boomed out with such force it might have been formed by a seriese of roaring thunder. "WOMAN! LET GO OF MY SWORD." He threw himself up the branches of the tree, climbing like an enraged animal, fingers gripping into bark.
He was half way up the tree when she disappeared once more, and he was left staring up the tree, his teeth clenched in rage.
The ronin dropped to his feet, crouching before a strange object... that quarter machine ring. He eyed it for a second, finding something oddly familiar about it...
No sense thinking about it now. He looked to his hand. Her number.
A second later, her phone would buzz. The text composed of an ominous statement.
"Mm, I spend no more than a minute on any piece." He was working in a different medium than most, of course. "The time is spent before the brush hits the page. Inspiration is illusive... once found, it should be allowed to hit the page before it loses its luster, and thus... I sit." He motioned to his little carved out space.
He didn't look at her number when she placed it. He was confident it would reach her when he needed to. If he needed to. It looked like he might not need to, as she leaned in. She spoke suggestively.
He saw she was interested. He acted, pulling her down the rest of the way for a kiss. Words were not necessary, after all, when actions could speak much more clearly.
He didn't reply to her fussing over his birthday. He couldn't say he knew what day it was exactly, so it may be his birthday, after all. He didn't particularly care, either.
He looked down as referred to his studies. "Mmmm. They are studies. Ancient texts passed down through generations. One would not be wrong to say they are a form of art." He leaned back against the tree once more and stated confidently. "I do not practice. Everything I create is what it is meant to be, given the inspiration at hand."
He looked over to her as she mused on the word he chose. "You are mysterious to me." He watched silently as she accepted his art, and produced her number. She wasn't shy. He enjoyed that. He liked shy as well, to be honest, but there was something to be appreciated about those who were candid.
She produced a marker, and reached for his hand. He looked down at the scraps of paper around, but shrugged. Letting her lift his hand, she would feel... roughness, though well nourished skin, with callouses in places directly related to his swordplay. His hands were very warm.
"I have some ideas." It was, again, stated plainly, but the implications were clear enough to most.
"No. What will you do now that you know it's my birthday." It was a strange line of questioning, but he felt the need to clarify her misunderstanding.
He raised an eyebrow at her statement of his intentions. "I wasn't drawing anything when you walked up. I was looking at the clouds for inspiration." He stated it plainly, not reacting in any way from his sitting position, just stating it.
She then stated she was an art thief, which raised an eyebrow. "Ohhh, yeah? An artist who is an art thief?" looked down to his look neck of the woods, and back to her. "This is where you planned to hide... to steal art."
In the middle of central park. "It is representative of... you. Mysterious. You can have it, if you would like. No need to steal. We can trade. Your number?" What? It was worth a shot. There was obviously a lot to unpack, here, and he had a feeling she had a sense of adventure.
He watched her carefully as she took him up on his offer. A drink from a stranger. She was confident. "How will you do that?" He asked. She must have something in mind, or she would have simply said, 'happy birthday' instead, she said she would have to.
He recieved his drink back, nodding once at her comment. She drank some, then, or she wouldn't have called the sake sweet, as most new drinkers didn't see any hard alcohol as anything other than stinging.
She replied with her name. He stared silently. French. It was french. But she sounded american. It was a fake name. "I am unsure if it is nice to meet you. You are beautiful, and strange, and I don't know your intentions."
She asked for a demonstration of his art, and he nodded after a tense moment, reaching forward to a piece of parchment, and pulling it closer, before wetting his brush with ink, and drawing out a single piece of Kanji with his free hand. An interesting character stood on the page.
He set the brush aside, and grabbed it, holding it out toward the odd, sexy costumed lady.
Words. He heard words. It took Raijin just a moment to shake himself from a daydream of flitting about the clouds, dicing them to pieces, when a sweet little voice asked him something. He looked over to see... A woman. In costume. He was leaning back and to the side staring at her for a long moment before reaching down, and grabbing the Sake to hold it out in offering.
"Is... it my birthday?" She looked like a strippergram. His eyebrows remained slightly lifted as he watched her.
She asked about his laid out, but mostly ignored writing material. "It is my work. Who are you?" He wasn't blinded by her overall adorable appearance and behavior. This was strange. People in wigs and wearing masks didn't just wander up and ask about things every day.
Maybe it was his birthday.
"You may." She squatted down in front of his work, and he staaaaaared at her butt. "Do you understand it? I could explain." one hand did end up resting on the X made by his hilts as he sat there. For all he knew, she was an assassin, sent to kill him by a rival gang.
He'd been working on a new spell. It had mostly evaded him thus far, but the concept was there. He that this image... One of freedom. Flashes of lightning. Raijin's mind wasn't the typical magical archetype. He did not think about what he wanted to do, and then find a way to implement it via magic means. No, he got feeling. He felt... inspiration, and worked at it like he did his calligraphy.
Magic, to Raijin, was art. He did not research. He waited for inspiration, and simply made it so. Now, he felt himself, sitting at the precipice of that flash of inspiration, but like so many other times, it sat just out of reach.
He was against his familiar tree in the park, a spot where inspiration often hit, like and apple falling from a tree. It was a slightly nicer day, so he'd set aside the writings he usualy took part in, and took to instead staring up at the sky, sipping sake, even though it was illegal to drink in public.
If anyone mentioned that, the look he would give them would be eonugh to make them walk away anyway. It was a nice day... if only the clouds were a little darker. He felt like that might bring the inspiration he needed.
The man referred to himself first, as a god. Raijin swatted at him with his sword in a seriese of pinpoint strikes, looking for weakness. He saw a swooping blow coming and ducked low while darting to the side with a slash that still did not draw blood as the man proudly announced he was Heracles; or rather Hercules.
Raijin let out a booming laugh before shaking his head. "And you find yourself in the presence of Raijin, God of storms!" Hey, if they were pretending they were gods, now, he might as well play along right?
His crest was cast, and the man asked if he were getting tired. Raijin simply smirked as the legendary hero wailed against the barrier, and howled in pain as a result. "Hah! Does the great Demi God feel pain after all?" He grinned even as the man told him his father's lightning was better.
It didn't matter; it only needed to be powerful enough to let him win. Even then... it might not be. He had something up his sleeve in case, though. "Yes, Enjoy this fight! It will be your last!" Hercules called for his club. Raijin raised an eyebrow, but crouched down in response.
As the ceiling shattered inward, he was already rolling to the side, landing in a stumble on to his bottom as he was buffeted by ceiling debris. Alert eyes locked on the massive club for a moment before he rolled back to his feet and hopped backward a few times to watch the giant cautiously.
He took the moment of reprieve to draw another barrier. This didn't look good... Surely he couldn't lift such a massive weapon... On second thought, it fit the character pretty well. There was no way he was not about to lift it and start wailing away.
Raijin dropped into a ready stance, muttering under his breath as he did.
Raijin found himself in a state of flux, bouncing in-between expressions of intense focus sopping with killing intent and manic, wide grinning joy at the drop of a hat. He was in the prior form as he shot forward, and his blade met the man's forearm as he passed. TSHINK!
It feltlike running his blade against stone. "I will see you bleed, Okina Oni!" The second blade came out as the giant of a man thrust a forearm his way once more. He responded by allowing the force to assist him in increasing the range between them. Raijin's footwork would likely prove bothersome to the Greek hero. He didn't move back, forward, or side to side, per se, but at angles. Back, and to the right as he took a swing at his chest, using his parrying blade to redirect the last bit of force. Forward and to the left as his opponent when for a palm strike, counting on his overcorrecting from the previous leftward movement in order to juke inside of the hefty blow, this time using his longsword to parry as he moved in and went for a couple quick slashes with the wakizashi.
He would then disengage quickly, knocking a slower passerby out of the way as he found a way to make range again. He had speed on this man... but he had to admit, even deflecting the blows with the man's bare fists left his hands buzzing from the force.
One or two direct hits from this guy and it would be over. "Amazing! show me your true might, Oni!" He likely only had a second before the next attack. He used his off hand short blade to draw out a quick rune, making a shield crest about a foot wide appear before him. The softly glowing circle hung in the air, cracking occasionally with energy.
The seemingly Jolly giant's smile dropped, and Raijin's smirk got stronger. The glasses shattered in a display of strength, and the familiar magical glow of runes activating caused the ronin's eyebrow to raise as he stared at the man.
He also wasn't bleeding profusely after shattering glass in his hand. Interesting. The boom of laughter caused Raijin to grin; it was a larger than life laugh. He loved to fight people with that feel to them. With a flex, the man broke buttons on his shirt. "I am. They never need to send more than me." Nephew, huh... There was a strong emotional attachment, though it was odd that there was a mystic about that he didn't know.
"I do." Then... something else came out. He called Raijin a... mortal? A god complex? Well, he couldn't say too much, he was named after a god, after all. His eyes widened completely as the towering giant of a man flexed once more, and tore his shirt wide open. His look wasn't one of shock or surprise. No, combined with that excited grin, it was a look of barely contained excitement. This was going to be a battle! One worthy of more than just a notch on his palm! He would have to get a whole new tattoo!
The giant was covered in runes! He couldn't make heads or tails of him, as he used runes that originated in his home country. Still, he had some ideas. The tension grew thicker as the hero pulled off the remains of his shirt and called Raijin out. "Hah! I want nothing more! Prepare to die a good death!"
Without another word, Raijin moved forward in a burst of speed, drawing his Katana, crafted by Muramasa himself, and going for a passing strike to the abdomen that could slice a man in half with ease. If he died from this, he was all talk, right?
He went for a swing. She went for his crotch. Okay, he was really getting mixed signals here! He felt her grasp on is belt buckle, and looked down, each hand still clutching a blade as he suddenly tossing him like a ragdoll.
"KSUU!"
Damn it all, he was going for a trip! His katana flicked about as he flew past the range of his platform crest, which phizzled as a result.
Another seal appeared above him as he arced downward toward the hand. He hit it with a grunt, allowing it to slow his descent as he fell and it shattered from the force.
He repeated the summoning a few times until he landed on his feet safely. Cursing again under his lungs, he hopped over the very dead burnt man, and bolted back into the alleyway.
Too late. Looking down, he saw an open escape route, and a knocked out Loli-chan. Looking down at her, he let out a long sigh, and sheathed his swords. Great, he couldn't exactly kill her like this, and the father was gone.
What a waste of time. With a shake of his head, he pulled out a scroll, wrote down his latest tracker phone number, and popped it it into her back pocket where she lay. With that, he turned, and walked out of the alleyway as if nothing had happened.
The little doomed teenager and the big man were close. He could tell by the way the talked to each other while looking at other people. He couldn't hear them, but the body language and tone were easy to pick out. He grabbed his drink, a scotch double with a large ice cube, and took a long drink, and casually discarded the neatly cut peace tie that had been binding his swords on the ground.
The man was headed toward the bar, leaving the child behind. Now, logic would dictate that it was a perfect opportunity to stand up, walk over to the boy, and slit his throat. Seeing this giant of a man walk toward him, Raijin simply lost the ability to operate on logic.
He wanted to fight this man. He wanted to feel the thrill of victory before he stooped to slaying a child. Setting his drink aside, he became suddenly quite aware of the wide smile on his face as the man ordered a drink. He was shaking with excitement. He even sounded strong! He was so pumped! Thoughts of how the fight might go, limbs flying and skillful strikes, were interrupted by the realization that the man had his drinks, and was about to walk off.
"OY! Big man... Yes, you." He grabbed up his drink, and drained the last of it. As he did, it would become apparent that he wasn't wearing a shirt under the white blazer; his Yakuza style tattoos would show proudly, as well as his perfectly toned physique. He ended up tossing the glass to the side when it was empty, where it shattered on the floor. "Is that your friend, over there, in the chair?" A steady hand reached out to motion toward the boy across the room
He stood, and adjusted his coat, cracking his neck with a roll of his head before placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. He then stated the words he imagined would get this fight started as quickly as possible. "I am going to cut his head off. After I kill you."
Hmm, she really was beat up, wasn't she? It made the fight less fun, honestly. Still she fired words back at him, and he grinned once more. "Don't temp me, Loli-chan." He raised an eyebrow as she took off her shoes. Right here and now? He wasn't sure he was ready for such a change in pace! And in front of a priest!
She asked about the burning man, and he looked slightly confused. "Huh? Oh, that was not me. I don't see the point of killing someone so painfully." He motioned to the man behind him. "I am just here keep him from dying."
His grin dropped as everything in front of him dropped into the ground, as if the earth itself had become immaterial. Up to a certain range, where he could see the pipe she'd dropped tilt on a fulcrum of earth that she wasn't affecting. A glance back to the father told him he was within his range.
She'd been planning to drop him. He wondered what would happen if he were sent into the earth like that. It would be a terribly embarrasing way to die. Dark brown irises jumped back up to her. She wasn't hoping to lay with him, after all.
This was a battle to the death, and she had quite an advantage. He could always hide in the priest's aura, but that would be a coward's way. He was no coward.
Pulling his crest parallel to the ground, he jumped onto it, and launched himself forward, moving the crest under himself as he went to use it as a platform.
He doubted she could make magic immaterial. The fight was still on! "Let us dance more, Loli-Chan!" He swung his blade in a wide arc to see if he could find purchase on anything.
It was a collection of double edged swords, which was rough for a Samurai:
He hated formal events; there were plenty of beautiful women here, though.
He was on a boring kill and fetch quest; there was an open bar, though.
He had to kill a child to get back what they were looking for; actually there was nothing to really make up for that one. He needed another drink. "OOYYY, Another." His voice boomed out from the bar in the corner. The bartender, who looked overfrom his current patron, clear nerves surfacing at the pushy, tatted up man in the white suit. He was two drinks in already, but he would need a lot more if he was going to slice up a teenager in a wheelchair.
The cult had gotten him into the door of this event with their vast resources, and he'd even been able to bring his weapons in, peace tied, but with a little knife that he could use to cut them free hidden in his sleeve.
Not that he would need anything more than a small knife to kill a child. "Make it a double."
This gig had its perks. Money. Great fights. A privelleged lifestyle. Sometimes though, you had to do some things you might not be so pumped up about.
After all, it was a double edged sword.
He looked up toward the entrance as a giant of a man entered at the other end of the room. He was so tall he poked up above the rest of the crowd of people on the way to him. That piqued his interest... He had to be almost seven feet tall. The Yakuza sat up a little bit; that looked like a good fight waiting to happen! He soured a little as his drink landed in front of him. Right. He wasn't here for fun.
The man made his way a little further in, and... lo and behold; the hulk of a man was pushing a wheelchair that held within it none other than his target! A wide grin appeared on the wandering Samurai's face. He had a body guard.
The Yakuza watched in silence for a bit, getting the measure of the man instead of jumping at them right away. You'd better bet he started picking away at the ties on his sword handles with that little knife, though.
Maybe a sword with two sides wasn't so bad after all.
It seemed as that, in spite of her confidence, she wasn't experienced in battle; her movements were clumbsy, even considering she seemed unjured already. Maybe her abilities made it so she didn't often need to fight with any skill?
She replied to his statement about showing him more with... bedroom talk? He didn't exactly draw a connection. He blinked inbetween sidestepping to stay out of her range, steering her around in a few neat circles. "What does that have to do with-" Was she... was this getting her...
He grinned again.
She reached over and pulled a drainage pipe from the wall. Notably, the brackets stayed in place. She'd made it immaterial for a moment. That gave him a better answer than super strength. She was dangerous. That being said, she was absolutely hitting on him. He laughed at the low brow joke, and stepped in, where the momentum of the blow from the long weapon would be lessened. From there, he would step that extra half step to be right in her face. Knowing she wouldn't be strikable, though, he simply leaned in and muttered through a grin.
"I am better with mine."
Wink.
He quickly jumped back three little hops to make some range, readying his two blades once more. This put him close to the father, who had managed to pry open a trapped piece of sheet metal to reveal a narrow passage inbetween the two buildings.
