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 kept staring at Sam in concern. He wasn't the greatest at picking out emotional nuances in others, but he could pick up when someone was going to be a problem. Sam was very close to that line. As a mutant with the power to bring forth creatures of elemental ice and could freeze a person or a street with a thought, Sam would be terrifying if he lost his restraint, whether by vengeance or just a concussion.
The firefighter didn't know which was worse. If Sam did lose control, could Rex do anything about it? Yes, he could bring forth fire and warmth, but was it enough? It was one thing to keep his hands warm when Sam was just making things chilly, it was entirely different if he'd have to pit his might against all of the vast powers the mutant wielded.
It brought to mind that Ice Age man who'd attacked the city with a woolly mammoth. Though the mammoth had vanished, according to reports, the caveman-like person had very similar powers to Cold Steel, but none of the heroics. It had nearly killed Rex to stop that man. It absolutely would have, too, if Cold Steel hadn't been there to extinguish the immediate flames and then rush him to the mutants' healer.
This time there would be nobody around to help him.
A cold pit formed inside Rex's stomach, and he didn't think a hand-warming spell would do anything for it.
"And you survived," he said firmly. "Twice. They will be punished. They are still entitled to their day in court, however. We must be the better men. If not, we are no different. A demon of ice is not much different than a demon of hell." He looked meaningfully at Sam, although he wasn't sure the man would catch the nuances. Rex wasn't so great at tricky wordcrafting, even to non-concussed people.
In truth, Rex didn't notice the silent array of feelings happening behind him. His eyes were focused on the last bits of trash on the ground so he could stab them with precision. That part of the playground cleanup was going fairly well at least. It was the easiest part, in Rex's opinion, but also the most visually impressive.
"Trying is all we can do," Rex said with a small smile. "We're only human, after all." The Lord knew that they weren't perfect. Rex himself wouldn't have been in this "club" if he hadn't lost his way so long ago.
"I guess that's as good a reason as any for the...club," Rex said as he skewered the last wrapper and put it in his bulging trash bag. "Honestly, I can't really tell what the purpose of it is, other than keeping mystics connected. Which is good enough, I suppose. Don't really know what other people are doing," he shrugged. He hadn't really spent much time in their weird little library, despite all his trips to it. Usually he was in and out, there long enough to check in and compare notes and data before going on on another excursion. His passport had been seeing far more use of late.
He tied off his bag and plopped it down by the gate. "Alright, looks like pickup duty is over. Next up, you have a choice," he said, reaching into one of the two tool bags for a wire brush, a rag, a spray bottle of rust remover, and some spray paint. He held them out to August. "Do you want to fix the rusty gate or cover up the graffiti-covered slide?"
Rex shrugged again after August mused about learning combat spells. "Fighting isn't everything," he said. "Not that kind of fighting, at least." It was something that was worrying Rex. In the past few months, he'd been traveling the world as a first responder as oracles at the Sanctum of the Veil identified new mystics in trouble. Yes, there were times when a fireball came in handy, but more commonly merely providing warmth and light in the cold of night was the best thing for a situation.
Still, without those to fight for freedom and protection, all the help and support meant nothing. Rex himself wasn't one to talk. He'd been pushing himself to learn that kind of magic in order to do that very same type of fighting. "I'll help if I can," he said.
He lapsed into contemplative silence as August opened up, only looking over at the other man when he paused between points.
Rex hadn't heard of this Private Dancer, but since it seemed he was more on the mind-control type of villain and not the kind to burn down buildings, it didn't surprise Rex. It also didn't seem like August was walking in his father's footsteps. Rex started to say as much when he caught the next bit.
Huh.
Rex looked August over again with this new information. That explained some of what Rex had seen out of August. He nodded and grunted. "Maybe in the future, just focus on that last bit, yeah?" he said, the corner of his mouth twisting up in a vague hint of a smirk.
He turned back to stabbing and picking up garbage. His trash bag was nearly full and they'd made it most of the way around the playground. "Shame about your father," he said, deliberately not making eye contact or looking in the other man's direction. There were too many emotions going on in the area. "He missed out on meeting a good young man."
Rex's eyes were fixed on the man caught in the statue's hand. His face was stern but not lacking compassion. He was a man with conviction. The man impaled on his blade was one as well, if a rather self-possessed conviction.
Pausing only a moment to glare at Hercules for his show of force, Rex turned back to the man. "You will not speak, will you?" he said, searching the man's eyes.
The man gave a bitter glance. "Ain't worth it," he said. His shoulders slumped and he seemed to just hang from the statue's hand. "Not what I signed up for but not worth running out on. They can find anyone anywhere. It would only be a matter of time before they got me." Then the man's eyes shut.
Rex nodded. "Very well," he said, opening his hand. The sword of light vanished and Rex ceased his focus on his shield, letting all the magic disperse. Then he put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Whatever curse you were under is gone, torn asunder by the sword of the spirit. We will not force you into anything, especially something that can cause you harm. I only hope that you find the courage within yourself to stand on the side of truth and do the right thing. Until then, may God watch over you and have mercy on you."
The man opened his eyes and Rex met his gaze with a sadness about himself. "I wish I could do more for you," Rex said, before stepping back.
As he turned to face Hercules, ready to intercede if the giant were to aggressively approach the captive again, the man whispered, "Wait."
Rex paused.
"Ask the boy. He knows what happened. He was there."
Rex stopped picking up trash as August spoke. From the first few words, it seemed there was a tone shift. Sincerity. Vulnerability. He turned to the man and looked him over once more.
August could've said anything he wanted - Rex would've had little reason to disbelieve most stories August could've said. Altruistic or even heroic motives would've been expected, or perhaps a more personal or selfish reason, like he had something to lose if the mutants were destroyed.
Rex's opinion of the man rose even more.
He met August's gaze for several moments before shrugging and returning to stab more trash. "You do not need to tell me, if you so choose," Rex said. The Lord knew that Rex wasn't a fan of sharing things, he certainly wasn't going to force another to. "Although if it helps, running around a warzone and charging that wizard with nothing else but some words was certainly one of the bravest things I've ever seen."
Yes, it had been stupid, but stupidity was not mutually exclusive to brave. August's actions in siphoning away members of the invading force could have also been pivotal in allowing the defenders an equal field. "I didn't do that and I had a shield and fire."
Rex nodded as Sam acquiesced to his request, although he remained skeptical until eventually the ice started breaking apart. It was rather disconcerting to hear the groaning of the expanding and shattering ice, but it was by far not one of the worst sound she'd already heard that night.
As the ice prison began to fall apart, Rex moved forward to carefully catch the cultist and keep him from getting injured or prematurely awakened. Once the man was free, Rex slid him over to some relatively ice-free grass and laid him out, pausing only for a moment to double check his vitals. Yes, all good. Based on the headache Rex had, he estimated there were still several minutes left on the magical sleep, after which they'd have to be more careful to not awaken the person.
Sam's comment was alarming though. "I will ignore that," he said, "because you are not in your right mind, Leave punishments up to law enforcement and proper court proceedings." Rex had a feeling this guy wouldn't be doing anything like this again, if only because the actual demon-caller was left in a heap back at the house. Finding another cabal of people with magical inclinations and the desire to summon a demon would likely be scare. Rex would make sure of it.
Rex arched an eyebrow at the man's complaints. "You're still alive," he said a bit sardonically. The light blade was still buried inside the man's chest, just in case magic was actively cast on him from afar. From Rex's experiments, the blade would disrupt new magical influences that attempted to target who or what he impaled on the sword. If someone hurled mundane flames instead, well, that's what his invisible shield was for.
The arched eyebrow returned to it's customary frown position as Hercules hot agitated, if his tattoos, which were now blatantly on display thanks to the man's shirtlessness, were any indication.
"Step back, Hercules," Rex said as he shifted his position until he was partially blocking Hercules's path to the captured man. Hercules would have to go through Rex and his sword first, although for now the sword remained buried in the man's chest. He stared at the bigger man for a moment and then turned back to the prisoner.
"You will talk eventually," Rex informed the man. "Law enforcement is on the way. They are trained in getting people to talk. I, however, am a firefighter and a man of faith. I am trained to put out fires, to listen to people, and protect who I can." Rex nodded down at his blade. "I cannot keep this up for long, though. Will you speak now, while I can shield you from retribution? Or will you wait until the interrogators drag it out of you, condemning you to a hellish death?"
"Dios mio," Rex breathed as he took in the sight before him. Even as a veteran firefighter, he'd rarely seen something so grotesque or fast. The smell alone....
Rex shuddered in revulsion. This was bad. Very bad. This abuse of power, this horrific murder. All for what? Bracelets? Power?
He grimaced again but squared his jaw when Hercules turned to him. "I can try," Rex said with a nod, although there was no certainty there. He had two ideas in mind, two things that could potentially work together to cover all bases.
"For the word of God is quick..." Rex began reciting the verses that could bring forth the sword of the spirit again. A person with a magical booby trap was just a person with magic on him, right? His sword would probably be able to cut that too. Rex had found that stabbing himself with the sword cut off his ability to call on magic, so maybe that would work here too.
As the light sword burst forth into his hand, Rex began another recital. “Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.” As before, he felt power go out through him and then coalesce into an invisible shield upon his other arm. The shield nullified energy that struck it. If the fire was magic, his sword would stop it, but if it was natural, his shield should do the trick.
Rex stabbed the sword into the man, who only felt warmth where the blade impaled him. Rex nodded at Hercules to continue.
Rex was feeling helpless. Immediate danger was over. They had accomplished what they'd set out to do, hadn't they? The summoning ritual had been disrupted. Although a demonic creature had still been called forth, Rex's gut instinct was that it was a last-minute swap and not the intended goal. After all, if one person could've summoned the creature on their own, why need a sacrifice in the first place?
"Thank you, Father, for allowing us to be on time," he said into the December night.
The rest of the cult had been taking out, but who knew if they were still there? Rex wasn't entirely sure what Sam had done to the ones in the other room, but Rex had heard quite a ruckus to suggest physical violence was used. They could scatter to the winds before the police were able to arrive. Even the last one chanting. What was stopping this from happening again?
Rex frowned. That was a defeatist line of thought. The answer was simple. He would be there, working on the will of God, and pulling in anyone he could. Just like tonight. He was no investigator though, so the capture of the cultists would be up to the police, but Rex could still pray.
He eyed Sam carefully for a few moments before nodding. He'd gotten the number of fingers right. It was a good sign. Not a great one, because there was still clearly damage, but Rex would just keep him under observation.
Very well," he said. "Before you rest, could you let the man out of the ice encasement? I do not want the ice to cause lingering damage."
Sam spoke, but now that Rex was specifically looking for it, it sounded to him like Sam's voice was off kilter. Still, he wasn't delusional nor did it sound like there was cognitive damage, however minor. He shook his head. "It's not worth it," he said simply. In a world where magic (at least a power source that was being called magic) was emerging, it was bound to elicit fear and uncertainty, much liked when mutants became public knowledge mere decades prior. Having something that could level the playing field undoubtedly seemed advantageous, but if only Sam knew what Rex had been through for a sword like that.
As a consolation prize, it wasn't much.
At least Sam was aware of his condition. "She'll be okay," Rex said as Sam passed over an ice...pack. "Right now I'm more concerned about you. How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked, holding up three fingers.
The woman started shivering and Rex realized she wasn't wearing a coat. Sam was probably going to be annoyed by what Rex was about to do, but not everyone here was naturally immune to the cold December air. "Behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed.”
A small bush, not quite two feet high slowly sprouted from the ground about four feet away from the woman. The bush was made of solid fire and was covered in flames, radiating light and heat enough to combat with the wintry chill, yet not an undue burden on Rex and his current migraine. He himself was also grateful for the heat.
Rex ignored the boy. Tragic as the kid's life had been, nobody had the moral right to kill right now. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the owl began to appear and Rex immediately began speaking under his breath, building energy to summon the sword. From what he'd seen, the kid's only tricks were pulling things out of nowhere. Just the kind of thing his sword was designed to destroy.
However, Rex did not need to finish the verse. He saw Hercules's grip slacken and a bit of color return to the man's face. Oh Blessed Maria, thank you for this providence! Rex eased up a notch, but his frown did not diminish. This was still a life and death situation and an interrogation.
He didn't know how prophetic that was.
"Blood of Christ!" Rex shouted in alarm as fire burst forth from the man's body. Hercules cried out for Rex's sword, but the firefighter didn't bother. He rushed the burning man, ripping his pea coat off in the process, and fell upon the man. He beat at the flames with the coat even as streams of prayer flowed from his lips. Yet the fire was not quenched. Before Rex's eyes, he saw skin rapidly blackening and burning away, exposing charred innards.
"Look away, William!" Rex shouted in horror as even he launched himself away from the conflagration, his coat carrying several flames as well, which he quickly struck against the ground to extinguish them.
In less than ten more seconds, all that was left of the man and his clothes were ash and the horrible stench of burned human flesh.
Rex didn't answer William's question. He recognized a verbal trap when he heard it. There was no good answer to "Am I moving too slow for you?" especially when the asker was a potentially prickly teen. Rex didn't care to put in all the effort to craft a reply that would circumvent all the possible pitfalls and instead merely grabbed the handles once Will stopped wheeling himself around. Rex then pushed William at a much faster pace, trying to find Hercules and get out of sight of the guards as quick as possible.
"Don't mention it," he grunted.
The scene they came upon made Rex's eyebrow quirk upward. More statues from the gallery were there, except now they seemed to be impeding two of their attackers. It was almost enough to make him smirk. Impressive work. He noted the shattered statue and the lack of Atlas, but decided two of the three (three of the four including the man they'd left in the gallery) still put them ahead.
All temptation to smile vanished as the men spoke. Now he was frowning in alarm. "Dios mio," he whispered as one hand went up to the crucifix that hung underneath his flannel shirt. This wasn't a one-off assault. This was a campaign against the kid.
Hercules seemed to come to the same conclusion and Rex watched light erupt across the man's exposed skin as magical tattoos activated and a statue was dismembered. "Hercules! No!" Rex said sharply. The hand on his crucifix shot down and to his side, fingers loose and ind in a grip as if he were holding an invisible sword. "Ease up," he ordered. A bible verse danced on the tip of his tongue as he re-evaluated the danger. He moved out from behind William, in case he needed to physically interpose himself.
Rex frowned again at Sam, but then his gaze softened and he nodded. "The sword was nonlethal," he explained. "It cuts magic and mentalism, not flesh or materials." The optics of the spell hadn't occurred to Rex before. Then again, hadn't Sam seen Rex previously impale the chain-casting woman with the sword yet still talk and behave in an unharmed fashion?
The man definitely had a concussion.
Rex guided the woman to a nearby bench as Sam called the authorities. He began a cursory examination of her to see if there were any obvious wounds or conditions, but so far she seemed fine. Shaken, deeply so, a little banged up from her capturing and getting trussed up, but so far nothing more severe. She'd likely benefit from some counseling but Rex, with his lack of resources, saw nothing out of the ordinary. Sam was a completely different matter.
"Sit down, Sam," Rex said. "Let me take a look at you. You're injured. I believe you are concussed as well." The paramedic fixed the X-Men with a no-nonsense stare.
Rex stepped back to inspect his work. Good. The cultist was motionless, even if Rex's head was pounding in pain. He grunted and opened his hand, naturally putting and end to his sword of the spirit and the brilliant light vanished. The darkness and coolness of the night settled on him refreshingly to his eyes.
He watched Sam return and Rex's frown intensified as not only did Sam's receding ice reveal a slew of injuries, but his remark struck something deep in Rex. The firefighter nearly bristled in response. "He's asleep," he said painfully slowly. "I will not kill."
Rex stared after Sam as he proceeded to vomit, before condemning magic. "I agree," Rex said with a nod. Sam was in terrible condition and had been through a lot. "We need to get you to a doctor. Does the doctor at the mansion still work there?" he asked.
Then he turned to the woman. "Are you okay?"
She blinked at him and then started talking fast. "Oh my god! oh my GOD! They were going to kill me! OH my god! Oh my god! I was going to die! I was going to die so some sick, twisted cult freaks could try to bring the devil here! OH my god! oh my god! Oh my god!"
Rex held up a hand and spoke in a low voice. "I know, I know, it's all over now," he said. "Is there somewhere safe you can go? I can recommend a few places. We can take you to the police as well - I'm sure they'll need to take your statement to help ensure all of these people get what they deserve."
The sword in Rex's hand was like a ray of sunlight, spilling pure white light all over everything. While it wasn't as powerful as the sun itself, it was more than enough to light up everything around them. He dismissed the fireballs, as their lights didn't quite compare to the one in his hand and he really didn't need extra active spells. The pain in his head was already enough.
From his vantage and with the light of his sword, Rex could clearly see Sam's actions. Rex didn't even blink. Now to figure out the optimal placement for himself--
Events moved rapidly. Ice blasted knives, there were screams, and even as Sam lunged forward, Rex started charging toward the cultist, sword ready to skewer. Then a burst of magic knocked Sam away and the woman screamed again.
Rex made it to the two just after a man of ice froze itself to the cultist and formed frozen container around him. Rex stabbed his sword through the man's head just as he started uttering another word and Rex could feel energy draining from him as his blade grounded out the magic in the man.
At the same time, Rex yanked the woman away by her bicep, spinning her a bit in the process. Dazed, confused, terrified, sure, but right now he needed her away so the iceman wouldn't freeze her too.
In his next breath, Rex let go of the woman and stepped up to the cultist who was now screaming invectives. He withdrew the sword from the man's head as he slapped his other palm on the man's forehead and reached for magic once more, "There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary be at rest.” As before, pain sharpened in Rex's head and this time he grunted, but the cultist's eyes glazed over and then he slumped, immediately falling into enchanted sleep.
