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.
Svetlana declined the offer to see Sam turn into someone else. That was fine, it was an odd thing to see. However, Svetlana did ask about limitations. Sam didn’t want to give away all his power’s secrets.
”The key doesn’t stay in.” Sam said, holding it up and looking at it.. ”Think of it… Like it is locking the spell in. Like locking a door. You slide in the key, turn it, and then pull it out. The door is locked. When you return the key it unlocks the door. Like the key in the door, this one unlocks the spell.” He left off the requirement for having the original body’s DNA.
One of the event officiants, a tall man who worked for the city—affiliated with neither the FDNY nor the NYPD—held up a megaphone and announced, “The three-legged race will begin shortly. All those who are signed up head to the starting line.”
Sam made his way toward the starting line. On the way he slid into a group of MRC officers.
“We got this this year! Even if Daryl can’t compete”
“Well it’s cheating a bit if you already have three legs.”
“Oh har-har. He’s got a big member. Grow up.” One of the female officers scoffed.
“No, he actually has a third leg! He’s over there, look.”
“...Oh! I’ve never seen him around before.”
“Works out of the 99.”
“That explains it, I’m never in Brooklyn.”
At the starting line, another city employee was pairing everyone up. She counted everyone, looked at her clipboard, counted again. Her face told the story that something was amiss. She spoke over her radio and after hearing back made the announcement, “We have an odd number of contestants. Don’t fret, in the interest if interdepartmental cooperation we’re drawing numbers from a hat. One lucky firefighter and another lucky police officer will get to work together.”
There was a series of groans that filled the gap while a hat with numbers was set in front of the official. She reached in and drew the first number, “66!”
Sam sighed. Just his luck, saddled with a cook who liked to attend sleepovers.
The annual FDNY/NYPD sack race & potluck. For 47 years the two departments have been competing in what they considered their own olympics. Wheelbarrow races, three legged race, cookoff, hot dog eating, tug of war, and the ultimate challenge. The sack race.
For the past two years FDNY had won the sack race and held the coveted golden sackie. The firemen were not letting the officers live it down. However, many of the officers from the NYPD felt that year was their year
Sam arrived at Central Park to represent MRC in the festivities. The joke of the day was that while FDNY had trained for the cooking and eating competitions, NYPD had showed up to win the races and tug of war. Sam did hear a fireman joking about the police needing power rings. Sam did notice there was a distinct lack of a donut eating contest.
The sign up for the events wasn’t hard to find. A wooden stand with strobing red and blues at the top. Sam signed up for all the events and was given a number to pin to his shirt. 66.
Sam’s eyebrows went up a small degree. Rex’s demeanor changed. Either from questioning if the man was a mutant or from saying he was good at his job. Either way, it was an interesting reaction.
”Yeah. We all got lucky.” Sam looked at the building, ”Still though. Absolutely best possible outcome. Like some greater power was involved. Something greater than mutations.”
”I won’t argue with you there. I have seen far freakier things on the streets though.”
Sam took another pull from his beer before deciding to just down the rest of it.
”Yes. Well… Almost anyone. Can’t do snake hair, mantis body, or any other physical mutations.” Sam set the bottle on the counter and poked at the base. ”Sure, I could be a success at any number of careers and have more money than God… but I’m not interested in money. I want to make the world a better place. It’s my duty to make the world a better place. My work as a detective is helping make the world safer.” Not to mention giving Sam more time to improve his nullification spell.
Sam held the hairs he removed from his head to the key and reinserted it into his chest. With a turn and a flash of light, Sam had returned to his normal self. ”Wanna try, or see anyone else?”
The problem with nullifying a power to stop a criminal was when people paid too much attention. One mutation going on the fritz and it can be explained as an oddity. Two… Some external force is at play.
”Huh. Well, that is odd.” An external force that only affected two thirds of the mutant baddies. A force that would like it if Rex stopped asking questions. Like… wait. You can’t just ask someone that.
Sam smiled and with a small chuckled said, ”No, I’m not a mutant. Are you? You did pretty well in that burning building there.”
”Never been to a club? Well, you should fix that sometime.” Sam said. Everyone deserves to have some fun and blow off steam with loud music and alcohol. The exact thing clubs deliver. The trick is finding the right ones for you.
”Razorback… Kind of stopped himself. His power just stopped working right, like Kodiak, and he rolled over himself.” It was the darndest thing. ”Rather convenient for me and a godsend for the people here.”
It seemed Sam mentioning how you got police backup to a scene faster interested Rex. ”It’s like a more twisted version of how women always go after the guy who shows up with a woman to the club. He’s pre-approved. Only in this case, when an MRC detective calls in needing backup everyone in the city knows what’s going on is serious. If we say we need units, we really need units.”
Rex seemed to have missed the good natured ribbing. That was fine. People often had different reactions to serious situations. Introspection, humor, and anger were common to name a few.
”Anyone.” Sam confirmed. He then regretted that when Svetlana gave her suggestion.
Sam hadn’t meant for her to suggest a real person, but that worked as good as anything. ”Not… At all what I had in mind, but okay. Here goes.”
Holding the key in one hand, Sam held tight to the hairs he had collected. This would be a very bad time to lose those hairs. He raised the key to his chest and while he held an image of the Queen of England in his mind he pressed the key toward himself. It passed through his shirt like his knife passed through material without damaging it. The key then passed into his chest as far as a normal key would into a lock.
Sam closed his eyes and turned the key.
Immediately there was a flash of light and Sam’s DNA was rewritten both genetically and epigenetically and his form was altered to fit his new genetics, styled after the image he held in his mind.
”Tada.” Sam said with the Queen’s voice, but with a distinctly not English accent.
The woman that now stood before Svetlana was close. So very close to the actual Queen of England. However since Sam was working off his memory of pictures of the Queen he appeared slightly younger, was an inch too tall, and the hair was more gray than it should have been.
”It changes the person down to the genetic level, but it does not change the essential nature of a person. Those who can use magic can still use magic, those with mutations still have their mutations, and those who lack either ability still find themselves lacking.”
”Well, then they must have been Merlin’s of their day.” Though, had the kids actually been able to perform magic it might have helped them attract girls. That, or if they had more to their personality.
”If wanting to do good makes me a nerd, Lord help us. And I think I need to avoid locker rooms.” Sam said. He noted the grins he was getting from Svetlana. It was a good sign of some kind of trust. That was good. Trust helped him.
The paper sold point one. That magic wasn’t that hard to happen into if you’re capable of it. Doodles on a page could light something on fire.
Now he had to sell point two. Even his big magic had the right limitations.
”I can do bigger. I can’t do bigger fire, but I can do bigger.” Sam took a long pull from his beer and set it on the counter as he took one of the keys in hand. With the other he ran his fingers through his hair a few times to collect some strays. ”Describe someone. As detailed as you can be. Build, colorations, height, sex. Hell rings size even, if you want.”
Sam chuckled, ”The nerds in my high school said magic tricks got them the girls.” Sam started drawing on the paper Svetlana had procured. ”Don’t remember them getting many dates though.”
A couple circles to contain the spell and a few sigils in the right arrangement and Sam was done. It took him all of a minute. ”Not a hard thing to just happen to doodle. And an even easier thing to activate.” Sam rolled up another page from the notepad and then while holding the rolled up paper over the drawing, pressed his hand into the drawing.
The end of the paper in Sam’s hand lit up like a candle.
”Ta-da.” Sam said with mock excitement before blowing the fire out.
”I was a philosophy major and as a philosophy major I did the totally normal thing of going into literally any other career because how many philosophers do you know? As for why MRC… I guess Normative ethics just stuck with me. Especially Utilitariaism. The act that creates the greatest happiness for the greatest number is the right act. My being a Detective means I can act to protect the greatest number of people. Work long term cases instead of just a beat.”
Sam gave a soft chuckle. He would never consider himself a nerd but he guessed after what he had just said, it fit. He then raised an eyebrow at Svetlana saying ‘her people’. Like mutants were somehow a different people. Not people like everyone else, only difference was they were carrying around a curse.
”That’s partly how it was…” Sam looked around, ”Do you have paper and a pen? Maybe cardboard and a knife? I can show you how easy it was.” Sam made his request but carried on with his explanation, ”I studied philosophy at NYU. As part of this I was exposed to philosophies from all throughout history. This included the enlightenment and Alchemy as well as a study into religions both mythical and modern. The Ripley scroll is a fascinating document that more or less focused my… magical study once I found I could.”
”That’s fair. It was a big ask.” Sam conceded, ”The point was to show you that the magic—which interacts with genetics—does not and cannot affect the x-gene.”
Sam sipped his beer and shifted where he held the ice pack. He was not the biggest fan of discussing how he makes his tools. Yet, sharing a little wouldn’t hurt him.
”Yes, I make them myself. No musical crafting circle involved.” Sam set down his beer and moved his hands over the ensorcelled items, ”It takes a lot of study and a lot of trial and error to craft these. I have a library full of ancient cultures’ signs, sigils, runes, and texts on alchemy from the Enlightenment.” Sam traced lines on one of the keys with a finger, ”I design the enchantment with the symbols and then engrave them into the objects to give them power.”
Sam knew he wasn’t about to convince Svetlana of everything, or anything really. His only real goal now was keep the meeting cordial and maintain their working relationship.
”I remember the fight. And I can tell you I wasn’t messing with your powers.” Sam said as he produced everything from his pockets. Change, wallet, his home and car keys, and his service pistol. ”Here’s everything. I’ll even show you what everything does… Here.” Sam pointed to one of the keys. ”That key is what you want. Take it, imagine someone, a human not some animal, and then place the key against one of us and when it enters, turn it… Well first, pull a few hairs from the person. Hell, even imagine a power with it. See what happens.”
Sam had to laugh. ”You have me there. Sam the Grey then.” It probably said something about Sam’s psychology that when looking to self describe he used the names of a Maiar.
Then the accusations began again. Svetlana asserted he got his powers to level the playing field with mutants. While his magic does help with that, it isn’t all it does. ”I was an officer when I discovered I could use magic. Just a beat cop. I was later promoted and moved to MRC because I was good at my job. My record is solid. I won’t argue that having the clothes someone, even a mutant, is wearing restrain them makes the job a lot easier. It also helps when those who were victimized can miraculously not bleed out before they reach the hospital. My magic is used to help people.”
Even to help mutants. Who are corrupted by their own mutations.
