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.
"Hah! That's the spirit!" She came at him, and he stepped forward away from the priest to counter her, moving his seal into her path the cut her off. Now, she would have to move to either side, and he could take the opportunity to attack her as she did.
Except she didn't. She went right through the barrier. His eyes widened as he jumped to the side just out of her touch range as she went for a punch. "Interesting." He would dance around her blows for a few moments as he tried to figure out what was going on. She'd thrown a car, and a manhole cover. That would imply super strength. But this. This was not super strength. He kept her at range, and went for a quick swipe with his katana to see how she reacted.
If he was right, she wouldn't even bother dodging. She had a way of becoming immaterial, perhaps? He kept his barrier nearby just in case as well. If he was wrong, maybe it would come in handy. He took note of how light she was on her feet as well. It was like she was walking on the moon. Interesting indeed.
She replied in her own smarmy way, and the Ronin got a good look at his opponent. She was attractive, though boyish, and without the va-va-voom he liked the most. Still, he had to remind himself he was about to kill her. The priest was busy looking for a way around the car and the damage it had done to his apparent escape route, so a least he had her all to himself.
Still, he had to keep near the man, as he was told to protect him, first and foremost. He finished sizing her up, and stated plainly. "You move with confidence... that is good! But you lack any killing intent! That will be the death of you!" She replied to this by nonchalantly kicking a manhole cover into her grip, and flinging it to him like it was nothing.
His eyes widened with thrill as he whipped his crest around to meet it. ZZZZAP! They collided, and the mahole cover bounced off and to the ground. She was powerful! Super strength? A perfect target for his new attack.
Raijin let out a loud, booming laugh as he stabbed a sword into the ground, and quickly removed his white blazer, tossing it to the side and revealing his muscled, thickly tattooed chest. "Yes! This will be a good fight! Come! There is blood to be shed!" He retrieved his weapon, and drew out another crest as she approached.
He had to admit, he'd never seen a person flash fried before. It was sort of @#$^ed up, wasn't it? This guy did this for fun, huh? Nasty business, but Raijin couldn't say he cared enough to bother to act on his feelings. According to the bosses, they were on the same side.
Still, there was the matter of him being promised a fight... The Ronin frowned as the father turned to leave, and he made to follow, ending only a few paces behind him. That was when a car suddenly landed in front of them, blocking much of the alley. He couldn't make of the expression of the priest, who paused, and turned a mask head toward him, before giving him a short, but slow nod.
Raijin was grinning widely before he knew it. Turning as the woman started talking, he quickly extracted his long blade, yelling back in his booming voice. "OY OY OY, Who do you think you are, walking into someone elses business like you own the place! That's a good way to get in... over your head."
As he spoke, he flicked his blade about, causing lines of light to form in the path of its tip and then disperse as they shaped a rune. A crackling crest appeared before him, and he settled into place. "Not that I mind... I really was hoping for a good fight today!"
The Samurai reached out, and produced his short sword as well, grinning widely.
"Much like a man of the cloth, to look such a... gift horse in the mouth." The Ronin had been sent with the promise of a fight; at least his boss had said the diviners had said his presence was necessary at this location, to assist the reverand.
Who was he to argue with the fates, especially if it meant a good scrap. He had a new spell to test, after all. The samurai leaned against the wall, hand resting between the crossed hilts of his swords, looking at the priest as he started babbling bullshit. Dark tinted sunglassed hid him rolling his eyes like a petulant teenager as he fixed his sleeve. He was still wearing his white suite from the meeting he'd been at; not his typical fighting attire, but they'd told him haste was important.
And to think, he was going out of his way just to get such a cold greeting... He sucked at his teeth, heavily considering cold cocking this guy and calling it done. With a sigh, he dropped the notion; the boss wouldn't like it, and thus far he'd followed through on his word to keep Raijin happy with a steady flow of money and battle, as well as access to old spellwork in his native language.
He had a good thing going, why ruin it to put a crazy old cult leader on his ass? "That's creepy, you know." The priest was ignoring him. Oh well. All they could do now was wait.
She swore in her response, and he chuckled, tempted to kiss her again, but resisting, as he was still seeking victory, and giving in twice would feel like weakness. She did all but confirm her duplicitous nature, and he found himself enticed by her confidence in talking of slaying the creepy man.
She took back her player, and he started to devise his next move in their little game when an alarm suddenly went off. He looked to her questioningly, and she informed him she had to go. What?! There had been a time limit?!
Annie-chan asked for a piece of paper, and he pulled out a scroll scrap, and his calligraphy brush, taking a second to dip it in ink before handing them to her.
His eyes widened as she recognized the Japanese number, and he stood staring at them for a long while as she ran off. She knew Japanese. Had she... been hunting him all along? An assassin?! Armed, she'd moved to position to slay him unawares, but she had enjoyed the game they'd played so much that she had instead chosen not to try and kill him this time?!
Smoke shot from his nostrils for a final time.
He decided right then and there, he would one day bed this woman, before she ultimately tried to kill him.
Her response to his question was honest, and quick, and he was left with no doubt that she could kill someone just fine, even though it would have been her first time. It wasn't a huge shock, though; he'd sensed the killing intent in her posture as he'd approached.
He hurried forward until he found a place where they could pull to the side and listen for any pursuit. Her second remark, more crass, prompted him to come to a stop, spin, and plant his lips onto hers firmly, before pulling away as if it had never happened, and stating plainly, "I like your tone of voice more like that, Annie-chan."
His rougher, strong hands let go of hers, and he stepped away, giving her some space to absorb that, and quietly wondering if he was about to get shot. "Hah! He should be thanking me. I only saved you ammo." He looked back the way they came, and turned back. "I don't think he is following."
This instance made him feel bold. Charged. He would have to circle back at some point and find that man to finish him off. "Annie-Chan... I feel the need to get to know you. The real you." He fished out her music player and headphones, and held them out toward her.
He was wearing wooden sandals. He always wore more traditional garb when he was writing and transcribing. It made him feel more creative for some reason, to be steeped in his cultures traditional garb.
It made him much louder as he ran after her, though- PLONK PLONK PLONK! She'd made some pretty good distance, running off into one of the more obscure areas of the massive park. Gathering his stuff had really slowed him down. He'd gotten a good idea of her general direction, though. Ohhhh, maybe he wanted to be more obscured as well! She really did want to do it out here! Smoke shot out of his nose again.
Ah, he saw her, just barely around the corner. "OOOOY! Annie-Chan! I have your-" Wait was someone grabbing her? SHE'D ALREADY CHARMED SOMEONE THIS QUICK?! No, this man was being more forceful. He was attacking!
Douglas was a bit frozen in place by the appearance of a clog wearing samurai from around the corner, so he didn't react in anything other than a shocked stair as the Ronin reached back without pausing in stride, and sent a fist right into his face. Without stopping, he grabbed Annie's hand and clopped off, shaking off the tooth that was stuck in his knuckle.
As they made their way around the next bend, the ronin glanced back toward her. "Annie-Chan, have you killed someone before? Would that have been the first?"
He looked back to make sure that they weren't being followed. He didn't get the sense that the man was the type to get up after being running punched that hard, though. Honestly, he'd saved the man's life, not that he got the sense that he deserved it.
Yes. He'd timed his blow perfectly. Out the layers of defense would peel, and she would show her true nature when he was prepared to counter. He could see it now, her eyes hardening, and telling him to take her, right then and there.
Instead, she immediately sprung up, causing him to lean back in surprise. What was this?! She was leaving? His hand reached out, but her careful spring had caused him to lean back, and she was out of range. A skillful retreat, but why?! Did she not wish to bed him and take decisive victory?
He walked her round the corner and frowned, standing only to pause as he noticed something. Her music player and headphones... on the ground at his feet.
Truly, she was a strategic genius! His fists clenched so hard they shook. Damn! He'd gained the upper hand for but a moment when she played this wise strategy! Retreat, but leave something behind so that he would be forced to pursue. "KSUHHHHH." He reached down, and grasped the device gently, looking in the direction she'd bolted in.
There was no choice. He couldn't deny that she was winning, but if he didn't follow, the game was over.
He stood, and started trudging after her, only stopping to quickly scoop up his spellcraft.
-----
Meanwhile, another hunter sat in wait. It was the third turn on the jogging trail, in the back corner of the park. The place with the least visibility, and where he often waited to pounce.
He was Douglas Ritter, nicknamed the highwayman, for his tendency to entrap trail runners and hit on them ruthlessly. His next prey was rounding the corner already, apparantly in a hurry. He stepped out from the side-path and in the way of the young woman. "Hey, hey, hey, baaaabe, what's the hurry!" Ohhhh, she was a hottie! He'd struck gold.
"You look beat... Your cheeks are all red. Maybe you should take a break, huh?"
He considered himself a man of great strength. Not showing a great outward reaction to her giggle had taken all of this strength, and more. Indeed, he had surpassed his limits in containing himself and not tackling her right there.
This battle was too important, though. He couldn't lose. It was a measure of himself as a man. She maintained a flush, and it deepened, betraying her desire to destroy him. He didn't mention that as well, though perhaps he could soon, with the right context.
"Ahh, Annie-Chan. It is a pleasure to meet you." Oh, he was still kneeing, wasn't he? She'd attacked too fiercly for him to recover, and now he was stuck in this position unless he could expressly find a way out of it. His eyes caught her subtle maneuvering in order to show him more of her fit body. She was taking advantage of his positioning. He resisted the urge to sweep her off of her feet. It was a lure. He would not bite. Not yet.
"Yes, there is a lot of space, and you can often find a good vantage point to watch people, and... soak in the atmosphere." He tilted his head a bit when she asked what he wrote. Was this genuine interest, or another ploy to lure him into a more compromising position. No, if he moved he would be in more trouble.
"Haiku. I had settled in just around the tree." He wouldn't tell her about the spellcraft, of course, not that she would understand anything on the other side of that tree; it was all in his native pen. "I often look for inspiration... among the leaves of the trees."
He motioned toward the tree, and turned back to see her stretching once more, leaaaaaning. Ah, that's what it was. Draw his attention away to hit him from another angle. His own attack right back at him. Was he being bested here? Every move he made, she was one step ahead! This was it, he needed to be bold.
"Oh, Ah... Annie-chan. Your... What is the word. Ahh... Lingerie. It is poking out."
Oh, hadn't she been preparing to run off again? She'd been posturing like it was he last stretch. Maybe that was also in his imagination. She complimented his technique, and he nodded calmly. "One must know how to manage onesself to prevent injury." She was predictably tense, she was waiting for her chance to pounce, after all.
She was about to dismiss him, when he looked up, and a stray finger found the the right spot and. A giggle sang from her lips. His eyes widened in spite of himself. Kawaii. He looked down to hide slightly reddening cheeks.
Damn, this would be hard to recover from. She'd brought out the big guns, and he hadn't been prepared for the direction she'd chosen to go. Modest. But he knew she was not modest. He hung on to that reality as he removed his hands slowly. "Apologies."
Momentum was beginning to fade. She was going to defeat him before they even got started if he wasn't careful. His quickly scanned for anything to latch onto to regain his advantage, even as the back of his mind wished to hear that little giggle again.
There. When she'd jerked, her lingerie had retreated up once more, even though she'd subtly tried to tuck it away. An opening. Peel away the facade and meet her on equal ground. Subtle, though. "Oh, I am Raijin. You run here often? I write here often."
Pick your timing carefully. She hadn't noticed yet.
He'd been fairly sure his assessment of her was correct. He knew how to observe weakness and strength in his opponents. It apparently came in handy in his more primal pursuits as well. She invited him in closer, and he obliged, moving into normal conversation range. It was worth noting he had one arm out of the sleeve of his silken robe, resting against his belt. It was, after all, difficult to draw calligraphy with the sleeve in the way.
He could tell she was wearing a bit of a facade. A mask to cover a seductrices grin, no doubt. He did the same, his face remaining calm though his inner self was tense, and ready to counter. He nodded as she confirmed his statement, rubbing at herself a little. That wouldn't do.
She spoke again while she pulled her earbud out, which he hadn't noticed at first, it being on the other side. Oh. She was running with ears in. What was typically a sign that one didn't wish to be interupted. Had... he mistaken this whole thing? Had his inspiration been a simple misunderstanding?! Was he a complete fool?!
She exposed her neck, tying up her hair. His inner thunder god wailed as his eyes traced her soft skin. She'd nearly gotten him to drop his defenses! She... This woman was dangerous. He needed to move now, or his facade would falter, and she would strike!
He moved with confidence, keeping a straight face as he slipped his muscled, and tattooed arm from his rest on on his robes, and kneeled down, placing a gentle hand on her knee, and beginning to massage it. "It is cold out. Wise of you to stretch, though maybe a bit soon to stop." His hands were warm. They always were. His grip, perfect and soft, as if he'd trained to have excellent control over his fine dextrous movements and had plenty of strength to back them up.
Also, this put him far, far from her exposed neck. It was a safe move, akin to attacking a weak flank when your opponent's army was charging you head on; they would have to pull resources away from that charge in order to avoid a quick defeat.
His patience was rewarded. She changed position, lifing a knee to stretch her hips. Good balance; she was used to this. She was a runner first, a voyeur second. It made sense, assessing her level of fitness. Well toned legs. Good, he didn't want her to tire too easily.
He was getting ahead of himself. Right here and now, he could make out more details when it came to her little secret. Erolace... He'd seen it in Lingerie Lover's magazine a couple of months back. His keen eyes could spot that bit from a mile away. But was she wearing the top as well? Black straps. Thin. Yes, yes she was.
Smoke shot from his nostrils, or at least he imagined it did as he sat there silently watching.
And then she looked at him. His arms started to uncross just a little bit, but she didn't react. Didn't run. Didn't say hi. She just... stared at him. She looked him up and down, drinking him in, the knowledge that he'd seen plain on her face as her surging passion caused her to flush. In his mind, she was deciding whether or not to pounce.
No, instead, she turned away, and continued. His jaw set. Oh... She wanted him to watch. His hand rested on the tree trunk, and he gripped it silently. She was a force to be reckoned with, wasn't she?
He had to make a move. He couldn't allow her to keep the upper hand, after all! "You favor your right knee, stretch your left more. Injury?" That's right. He was watching her form! No interest otherwise. Those creatures that preyed on men like this woman clearly did often found themselves thrown off when their wiles found no purchase. He would stay just out the the mantis's reach, make it so she had to move from her defensible position to strike.
When that happened, he would have the advantage. He held out a hand as if to ask if he could approach.
The lightning awaits A chance to strike the earth, and Unleash its Thunder.
He finished scrawling the text, and looked down upon it with supreme satisfaction. That was how he felt, crafting the last bit of this majutsu. It was close, but something was missing. He sat in the clouds, waiting for earth to call him to strike.
He needed... Inspiration.
Raijin took one last drag of his cigarette, and looked around the park. It had quickly become his favorite place for spellcraft. There was enough room for people to give him space, and... inspiration often jogged by. He watched a woman trod past, sighing a bit to himself as he turned back to his spell scroll. Not enough. He dipped his brush once more, and worked out a few more lines. So far, he had the build up programmed in. The point when the strike hit. He put out his cigarette on the ground, and placed the butt in his pouch meant for them.
It was where he felt like he was, for he couldn't find the right way to add in the release. Much like he felt trapped in that tense area before release in his muse.
He looked up as he heard someone nearing. He couldn't see them, though. Ah, they were on the other side of the tree he was sitting against. He silently wondered if it was someone sneaking up on him for a chance at revenge. Maybe it was Vida-san, or perhaps someone whose wife he had bedded. He tended to make enemies easier than friends, after all.
The Ronin stood and stretched quietly, looking down at his scattered stuff. Either way, it was time for a break. He adjusted his silken lounging robes, and turned to peek around the tree to see who was potentially sneaking up.
He froze in place.
There, before him. Inspiration. A woman in running regalia, attractive, but many people were. No, what drew him, and struck him so profoundly... was the lingerie she was wearing under her jogging clothes. From his vantage behind, he could see the bottom portion as she leaned forward. A smile formed on his lips.
This. This was a worthy opponent. Bold. Wrathful. Intense. Yet hidden in false pretense. A lady jogger hiding skimpy clothing ill suited for physical activity underneath.
He leaned against the tree, and watched quietly, the snap of inspiration finding its way toward completion.
Their walk down, and through the club's back door once again saw him nudging the bodies of his fallen foes out of the way. The place would need some repairs, but Leah always seemed on top of making things like that happen.
He was already laid out on the best when she got up top, and settled in, taking a cloth to his bloodied face. She smelled nice, as always. He looked to her with a serious expression on his face when she asked her question, and spoke back to her as a hand reached up to grab her wrist.
"Do the same for me."
-Fade To Black-
An hour or so later, a cold breeze whistled through the open balcony of the rooftop loft once more. Raijin puffed on his lit cigarette once more as he pulled on his cloth kimono and tied his belt around his waist.
Stretching his arms, he turned to her and smirked, speaking through his little smile. "You had fun."
Raijin's expression held firmly in a place of confusion as she stared she was fine, but sounded like a wet noodle in the process. She referred the the body, and be looked back, and then to her again. "Oh! Right! I forgot you are sheltered in some ways. Well, it is better than being the body." He placed a hand up on her shoulder.
It wasn't long, though, before she started fretting about his wounds. He touched the side of his face, where a but was still trickling blood. "Yes, I would be good to get cleaned up. Perhaps in your loft?"
Being honest, an experience like this rarely left him feeling the need to rest. Quite the opposite, it was energizing. He doubted that Leah would understand or in the state of shock she was in, reciprocate, but he found himself feeling frisky after such an experience.
One last glance back at the giant slumped body, and he turned toward the roof access latter. He would assist the more Shaky Leah down if she needed it. Maybe test the waters if she sat down with him to try and clean and bandage his wounds.
He would also have to schedule a tattoo appointment.
