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.
Rex made it across the street and figured he was in the clear. If this flying woman was all that was sent out, it stood to reason they felt she was sufficient to guard the place, or at least raise an alarm. Then again, judging by her boredom, it was likely nobody cared. Who’d be foolish enough to invade the base of someone with a reputation like Brazen’s?
Rex smacked his forehead again as a massive thud shook the ground. Rex whipped around and saw Hercules in a little crater throwing something at the woman, who nimbly dodged it. Then he saw Hercules stumble. Even his taunts were sounding a bit off.
The firefighter stepped forward but stopped himself. The man would be okay. Clearly he could handle the physical problems. That had been one massive leap, after all. In Rex’s experience with mutants, strength and durability tended to go hand in hand, as exemplified by daggers bouncing off of Hercules’ skin.
Rex glanced over at a side door he saw in the mill. It looked weak enough. He could bust right in, probably. But that would involve leaving Hercules behind.
That’s not going to happen!
He started speaking softly. “In the daytime also He led them with the cloud, and all the night with a light of fire.” Once again fire erupted from all around him and swirled with hunger and fury into a column of flames. He knew he couldn’t touch the woman, earthbound as he was, but he figured he could at least provide a target impossible to ignore. And hopefully if she was focusing on him, Hercules could get a lock on her position. He strolled forward in his blinding pyre and shouted to be heard over his flames, “Enough! Stand down, lady! We’re here for your boss!”
He had just a moment to duck down as another golden dagger sliced through the flickering flames where his head had been. It started off the ground and Rex decided that it was probably best to stay crouched. At the very least his flames should be ruining her night vision, since she clearly had to look at him to throw a dagger.
Despite the distance and despite her helmet, Rex could just feel the woman rolling her eyes. He...he couldn’t blame her. He wanted to do the same. What was this fool thinking?!
Rex glanced again and recalled. The fool was probably thinking he was resistant to injury and incredibly strong, probably tough enough to consistantly win in one-on-one fights with other people. Rex had seen him throwing around a giant earlier, after all, and had casually deflected knives. So maybe he wasn’t a fool after all.
Mutants, Rex thought. They just made things more difficult.
“Fine, whatever,” the woman yelled out. “Let’s get this over with.” If you could possibly sound more bored, Rex had never encountered it. The woman launched herself high into the air and in the same moment, hurled her golden knives straight at Hercules.
Rex figured this was a good time to move since Hercules clearly wasn’t going to do anything but make a scene. Rex darted out of the alley and took a diagonal path across the street, hoping the woman would be too focused on Hercules to pay attention to him. Maybe he could possibly find the hostages, too.
Rex grimaced. “I normally don’t handle these things,” he admitted. Law enforcement was not his thing. The closest he came was in determining the source of fires and sometimes building arson cases. This was the opposite of what he was supposed to do, actually. He’d started a fire (even if just on himself) to scare someone and then tackled them to the ground and ground their face into the sidewalk.
Oh God, oh God, oh Go---DEAR GOD! Rex’s eyes bugged out and he snapped out of his introflection as he realized what Hercules was saying. “What? No, no NO!” he hissed rapidly, but far too late.
He watched from the shadows as the glowing, shiny man just walked over and started shouting. His jaw dropped open and when he received a thumbs up, he dropped his face into a hand. Was this additional penance for his misdeeds? “Dios mio, lo siento por mis pecados,” he whispered, making the sign of the cross over his chest. He wasn’t police, but even he knew this was the stupidest thing a person could do!
Rex realized he was waiting for gunshots after several moments passed without hearing a thing. He looked up. Nothing.
He released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Okay. This was good. No cover had been blown. They could still run recon, and maybe alert the police.
A shine in the sky caught his eye and something momentarily blocked out some stars before a figure swooped out of the sky and landed on top of a shed just outside the steel mill. In the light of a streetlight, Rex could see a woman in black biker leathers and a gold-painted biker helmet standing there. Behind her, glittering golden wings shifted and moved, causing rasping metallic sounds whenever they brushed together. Two metallic-looking gold knives were grasped loosely in her hands, as if she were equally ready to throw them or slash with them.
“Brazen is busy,” she called out in a crystal-clear clarion. “You’ll deal with me. State your business here and if I like it, I’ll let you live.”
It was decided. They were going to find Brazen and put a stop to him. That burning feeling in Rex started spreading and a small smile began etching itself on his face. He didn’t know what it was, but it was making him start to feel alive. Finally.
Hercules lit up and from such close range, Rex observed more details than he had before. The man was shiny again, but so many of his tattoos were now glowing and...shifting? And what did they say? He caught a nonsense expression in Latin but it vanished into a picture of...something...and then more words appeared and
Rex blinked and looked away, just as the meter was ripped out of the ground. Very quickly Rex was replaced.
“Impressive,” Rex said, with just a twinge of envy. He’d seen such feats before, especially in the wake of mutant battles, and it was just another reminder of the problems that mutants caused. How did you imprison a man who could clearly bend prison bars?
Hercules wasn’t a prisoner though. As far as Rex knew, he wasn’t even a criminal. Besides, they had a mission. “Let’s go then,” he said as he vanished from the scene on Hercules’s heels.
It wasn’t long before they arrived across the street from the mill, lurking in an alleyway. Rex kept to the shadows and squinted to see if there were any lookouts or anything. Despite jogging there, he wasn’t out of breath and his heart wasn’t racing from it. It was racing from contemplation of what they were going to do. “How do you think we should handle this?”
Rex was being congratulated? For tackling a man and grinding him into the ground? His forehead creased in a frown. That wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. Oh God, what was he doing there? Why did he decide to get involved in this? He wasn’t trained for this sort of thing whatsoever.
”Remember the parable of the talents, Rex. Each servant was given a different amount, but it didn’t matter how much they had, it’s what they did with them that mattered. Regardless of how you got this power, I believe what matters is what you do with it. What will you do with this fire?”
The words of his priest flowed into Rex’s mind and he slumped slightly, the frown vanishing. He was going to help people. That’s what he’d decided. Somehow he was going to use his fire to help people and…..he didn’t know what came after that. He just knew he needed to help. Even if the people said they didn’t need help, like this Hercules.
“I’m sure you did,” he said inflectionlessly with another nod. Based on the pile of unconscious people though, it was likely that everyone was going to end up with a trip to the hospital, if Rex hadn’t intervened, but that didn’t change the outcome. Hercules likely would’ve lived up to his promise.
The shaking thief shivered. “He’s on 5th and Maple, the old steel mill,” he gibbered. “But you can’t stop him! He’s too powerful! I saw him crush a guy’s face with just one hand! He’s even fought the X-Men! And he always keeps hostages when he sends us out on a job. My sister is there, and so is Doug’s!” The kid’s eyes were bugging out now.
Something started to burn inside of Rex. He glanced at Hercules and said levely, “I know where that steel mill is.” What am I doing? “It’s not very far from here.” Rex, think about this! “We can scout it out quickly.” Despierta, hombre! ¡Presta atención! “Are you game?”
The mutant surrendered and Rex….realized he didn’t know what to do next. The man only stopped because he was literally forced too. Would he remain compliant if Rex stepped away? Rex glanced at the other guy, who was staring with wide eyes and a peculiar stance the firefighter recognized as meaning his legs were logs. At least he wasn’t going anywhere.
Neither was Rex, it seemed. His apparent ally....named Hercules, it seemed...was handling the media so Rex remained where he was in a half crouch, one knee on the water mutant’s back and his arms and hands entangled in Rex’s own. It was at least a position Rex could maintain for some time without undue strain - wrestling was something he knew.
Hercules returned but Rex didn’t take the hand. What if the mutant attacked again? Hercules had shrugged the last one off, but what if the reporter, camera person, or any of the bystanders were targeted? The dwindling crowd wasn’t really respecting Hercules’s booming commands and were continuously inching closer to get better views. So Rex remained where he was.
“Thank you,” he said with a stiff nod. “Rex,” he said by way of introducing himself. What...what was this guy talking about? Battle and Zeus and what? Rex steeled his face as things clicked. Another mutant. Madre de Dios, hopefully this one didn’t turn on them. Hopefully he was at least like the X-Men.
Rex didn’t really know how to react, so he just nodded again and said nothing until the reporter rushed over, only to be hit by a vitriolic response from Hercules. That actually made Rex smile faintly. The media often underestimated dangerous situations and it was nice when someone could beat them back without suffering political repercussions.
“I ain’t tellin’ you nuthin’” the water manipulator spat. “I know my rights. I don’t have to say anything.” Rex contemplated ever so briefly twisting the guy’s arm farther, but he held off. It was true, the guy had rights. Besides, neither of them were law enforcement. However, the police seemed like they were nearing rapidly, based off the Doppler effect of their rebounding siren wails.
“We-we-needed the cash quick, man!” the compliant would-be thief said, his hands still raised and his voice shaking.
“Shut up you--!” the water manipulator’s words suddenly grew muffled as his face was pressed into the concrete again. “That’s enough from you. You know your rights, I suggest you make use of them,” Rex advised him sternly.
The compliant one kept going, even more nervously. “Brazen said he’d kill our families if we don’t pay him back!”
A few scattered claps echoed the muscleman’s and a few phones lit up to get better video, but that was nearly the extent of the excitement. The reporter was the only one exuberant, but likely that was just because it was a slow night for news. This was New York - mutant brawls were everywhere.
Which actually made this encounter somewhat more enjoyable to Rex. He tightened his grasp as the man struggled, but it wasn’t enough to stop the blast of water. The glowing muscleman was, though.
“I’d suggest you listen to him,” Rex said in a low baritone rumble. “You could not stop me. Do you really think you can stop him?” Rex saw the cracked concrete and glanced over at the pile of other thieves, including a giant of a man.
“Come on, Doug, just give up!” hissed the surrendered thief from his prone position on the ground. “It’s not worth it.”
“Naw, I can’t do it I--”
Rex twisted one of the man’s arms behind his back and yanked, simultaneously shoving him face forward on to the wet concrete. “You should listen to your cohort. Comply!” he barked. Scriptures rose up in his mind but Rex shook them away. This was not the time for another pillar of fire.
The man struggled and some of the water started to rise but Rex harder and the thief gasped. The water fell flat. “Fine! Fine, I give up!” the man shouted.
The flames whipped and spun around him, casting a hellish light upon the concrete and the brick building walls. A small wind was billowing around the firefighter as well, yet at the moment there was not even a scorch mark upon the ground. The tar-like appendages burned away completely seconds after Rex began walking and he continued in a slow and steady fashion.
Until the muscleman began interjecting himself in the situation once again. Rex’s lips tightened. That man was kerosene right now, just fueling the metaphorical fires. Rex was close enough and casting enough light that he saw the moment the muscleman’s words pushed the would-be thief over the edge.
The water from the hydrant burst over Rex and the flames drowned beneath it. He himself stumbled for a moment before catching himself, having been far enough away that the water’s force was dispersed.
Darkness returned to the street as the firelights vanished.
The thief squinted, his night vision ruined by the sudden light and now the absence of flames. His eyes were drawn to the semi-glowing man and he waved a hand at the water, trying to figure out where the fire guy was.
Rex had no problems. As soon as his balance was regained, he rushed forward and tackled the thief, a swift slap knocking the knife out of the man’s hand before they both went rolling. Seconds later, Rex had the disoriented man on his knees, locked in a full Nelson hold. “Yield,” he said in a steely tone, water still running down his face in rivelets, his clothes completely soaked.
Rex did not stumble when the hulking man smashed his hand against his back. It was a close call though. Rex did let out all his air quickly though. That...that wasn’t what he was implying by...what? He wasn’t trying to fight anyone! Even the “keep people at bay” idea was better! But Rex’s eyes saw the fallen knives and another glance showed fear and hesitancy in the two thieves before him.
These people were being rapidly backed into a corner and they were liable to become very, very unpredictable, especially as they saw their comrades being smacked to the pavement in a seemingly effortless method. Rex didn’t think he could de-escalate things so maybe….time to fight fire with fire?
Perdóname, O Señor!
He stepped forward in order to get space and to stay well clear of anyone and everything that could burn. “One last time,” he bellowed. “Stand down!” One of the thieves was glancing around frantically and he actually started holding his hands up. The other thief did not. He saw Rex, clad in just jeans and a tucked-in flannel shirt and boots, no weapons of any kind, and he didn’t see a threat.
“Oh yeah? You gonna make me?” the delinquant sneered.
Rex sighed and nodded shortly. “If I must,” he said.
The thief started laughing and then thrust his hands out at Rex. His hands stretched and warped, forming twin tentacles of a shiny black tar-like substances that lashed around Rex and encircled him in a tarry embrace. Rex didn’t react, other than to close his eyes and start mumbling.
“What’s that, tough guy? You gonna cry now?” the thief sneered.
And then Rex opened his eyes. “...nor the pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people.”
As the last word fell from Rex’s lips, a whirlwind of flames burst into existence around his feet before rapidly spiraling up around him and immediately setting fire to the tarred appendages around him in a crackling roar.
“I warned you,” Rex said softly as he began to slowly walk forward.
Rex sat back on the couch and pulled his socks on, before grabbing for his boots. He was silent for several moments before exhaling slowly. “...No, I do not believe so,” he said, shaking his head with false confidence. He did not suspect Raijin would come after him, not when the agreement was met. However, a cloud of foreboding hung over Rex’s head because there was no guarantee the rest of the cult wouldn’t cause him trouble.
He glanced up briefly before resolutely focusing on lacing his boots. “You shouldn’t be in trouble either,” he said as a thought struck him. “The man said his piece. It is unlikely he will continue to pursue me.” Especially because he’d already had ample opportunities to do so. The fact that Rex was alive supported that theory.
Boots lace up, the firefighter pulled himself stiffly to his feet and ignored the flurry of feelings roiling up inside of him. “Ah, uh, yes I have a phone,” he said, even if it was turned off and he had nobody to call. His family was gone and his friends had abandoned him. No, that wasn’t right. He’d abandoned his friends, and none of his friends from the cult were ones he wanted to associate with.
He held up a hand for abatement. “Oh no, please, you don’t need to bother,” he said as Leah began tapping on her phone. The last thing he needed was for his neighbors to see him getting a ride from someone from….this establishment. A blush was starting to form but it vanished quickly. “I can manage. It’s not far.” Blatant lies. It was a five mile walk. He moved heavily toward the door. “Um, thank you again. You have a...nice place here.” And the blush came back in full force.
The action was starting to spread. As the man with the glowing tattoos continued to take on an entire group of assailants, the crowd shifted nervously. Many were consummate New Yorkers - they’d seen everything twice and this wasn’t even the fifth most impressive mutant fight they’d seen this week. These were the ones taking pictures, carrying on in their conversations, or even trading bets and making commentary on the action.
”What are the 8th Street Aces doing over here?”
”Is that Giant’s Bane?!”
”That man can pick me up and throw me around any time he wants!”
”Do you think it’s going to rain later?”
But standing in the midst of the ebbing and flowing crowd, as the action attracted some, frightened others, and was boring to yet more, Rex Vidales stood glued to the sidewalk, his hands clenched in frustration.
He was a first responder, yet he was on hiatus. He wanted to jump in and...what? He wasn’t law enforcement and he wasn’t on duty. Besides, what could he do against the brutes and the assorted other people? Over an ATM, no less! It was smart to stand there and do nothing. Even smarter to leave and get other people away.
Rex wasn’t so smart.
He hadn’t seen the event begin, but it needed to be over. Even as the remaining thieves divied up their squad, some of them charging the man and demonstrating their weaponized mutations, two of them continued trying to make good on their theft.
Rex emerged from the crowd and approached the ones trying to gather over the spilling money.. In a loud, ringing voice of authority, a voice used to be being heard over roaring flames and collapsing buildings, he shouted, “Stand down! Drop everything and put your hands up!”
Only an hour? Impossible. That was nowhere near the time needed to heal such a wound. Especially without leaving a mark. Well, there may’ve been a mark, but he wouldn’t be able to see it until he found a mirror.
Then the woman explained. Was that...some kind of faith healer she was talking about? That...made sense. Rex looked down at his hands. The faint burns he’d developed from his spell were also gone.
He wasn’t in a good mindset to begin stringing the dots together yet.
She introduced herself and only then did it sink in how tall she was. Rex resolutely established superb eye contact with her (to avoid staring anywhere else), glancing down only to ensure he met her hand with his own. “Rex,” he said, giving a firm handshake before releasing. “Much appreciated, you going out of your way for me….thanks,” He said stiffly and awkwardly. He was off his game and he wasn’t used to needing help. It was….difficult for him to acknowledge. Didn’t help that Leah’s attire was also making him quite uncomfortable.
As soon as she leaned down, Rex’s eyes immediately snapped away and he took a sudden interest in the stage and the lighting. “It was a man with a sword,” he said after a moment’s rehearsal. “I think you’re safe. He only wanted to give me a message.” Rex was putting on a bit of an act. Everything was fine. No problems here. No worries.
What did the woman say? Hexes and…? “Oh…” he said softly. Rex considered himself a pretty devout Catholic, right down to a general agreement with anything that came from the Vatican. He was also a pretty married man, had been for decades. Still, he was aware of what that kind of name….and the woman’s lack of attire...suggested.
Heat flourished in his cheeks, and it had nothing to do with any heat.
“Uh, no thank you, I can manage,” he said, making sure to be extremely polite and non-judgemental. He almost collapsed with relief when she offered to step outside while he changed. “Appreciate it,” he said, still not looking at her.
When he heard her leave, Rex pulled himself off the extraordinarily comfortable couch and threw the blanket back on the seat. Sure enough, his clothes were where he was told and he wasted no time getting into them. He didn’t want to risk the woman returning when he was naked and honestly the thought of having exposed skin in a place like this was somewhat wigging him out. Even if the clothes had charring and still reeked of smoke.
When he was about to put his shirt on, that’s when he realized that something else had happened. Twisting around, he tried to touch the wound on his back. Nothing. It didn’t hurt to twist around, either, nor was there blood. The shirt still had it, of course, as did his jacket. But he himself was perfectly fine.
He was just finishing tucking his shirt into his jeans when the door opened and the woman announced her presence. And since she hadn’t changed clothes, Rex very carefully only looked at her face and ensured his gaze never dropped.
“Thanks again,” he said. “But...how long was I out? I thought...I could’ve sworn I had a major laceration on my back…” His clothes were still smokey, so couldn’t have been long. Right?
Rex slowly came to and his head...felt fine. It was a slow awakening, as if he’d been utterly exhausted - which he had been. Yet even on that cusp of wakefulness, he retained enough lucidity to realize for once, he hadn’t dreamed. Thank God for that. For the last couple of years he’d only had nightmares.
He exhaled deeply, content. He felt better, he felt....cool. As in he could feel air currents. Why weren’t his clothes blocking it? Or the blanket? Wait, what blanket?
Rex’s mind kicked into gear and he opened his eyes to a strange ceiling and strange walls. He wasn’t home. Was this a hospital? He had heat exhaustion, possibly heat stroke. That was a medical emergency. Someone must’ve called an ambulance for him.
Reflexively, he sat up and started scanning his surroundings. His breath caught as he saw the woman dressed in...Rex immediately turned his head away and he stared at the side of whatever he was sitting on. “Sorry, miss,” he apologized, still not looking at the nearly naked lady. “But where am I?”
Then the sheet finally succumbed to gravity and fell down, exposing his well-developed chest. “And where are my clothes?” And your clothes?!
Rex stumbled forward, each step bringing pain and a jarring in his head. He coughed and the action surged through his body like a spasm, his ribs protesting. He couldn’t stop yet. He had to keep moving! To get away. He was sure others had seen what happened, but he didn’t need to stick around. All that violence, that senseless disregard for others!
Rex clung to that anger and used it to power each step. It was only getting harder and harder. He’d only managed to travel a few streets and blocks. Fortunately, few people had paid any attention, but that number was sure to increase the farther he went. Every footstep was harder than the one before it.
He was sweating profusely, yet his hands were cold and clammy. The cool temperatures were piercing the gash on the back of his singed jacket, exposing the bleeding wound to all. That proved another source of pain.
“Madre de Dios,” he coughed out as a fresh spasm racked him. He knew the symptoms of what he was experiencing. Heat exhaustion. Too much magic. Possibly treading into heat stroke territory. Hard to tell. He needed to study it more, he needed to...needed to...
The smell of burnt hair and wool was still surrounding him and it was revolting. In fact, he probably still had streamers of smoke wisping away from him. The smell of it all brought back too many memories. He couldn’t handle it any more.
Rex managed to stumble over to the side of the sidewalk, just into an alley before retching. It almost drove him to his knees. Shakily, he righted himself and took another step. And another. Two more. Then three.
