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.
Posted by Ashton Drake on Aug 7, 2011 21:04:28 GMT -6
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Ah, the question of the hour.
Ashton cleared his throat uncomfortably. "My dad's military. Old man wanted me to be, too. Turns out, I didn't want to jump through the hoops. He didn't really like that, but..." His eyes dropped to the rim of his beer. "Screw him."
Maybe that would have been a bit too much information to give out on first date. Maybe. But this was not a date. Nope. They were colleagues. And colleagues could share.
Ashton was not planning to share his entire life story, however. On the rest of the story, he remained 'lips sealed'.
Posted by Ashton Drake on Aug 7, 2011 20:55:56 GMT -6
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The call came in. It didn't take but a second for Ashton to strap on his gear and get out the door. The day had been slow. He'd been itching for an excuse to get out.
Trouble. A rampaging mutant. That was some excuse.
Red and blueberry lights flashed on the squad car as he ripped his way through traffic. He reached the scene fast as only a police officer could.
Since the call, seven minutes had elapsed. In situations like this, every minute counted. Ashton stepped out of his car to see what had happened in the short amount of time.
Posted by Ashton Drake on Aug 7, 2011 20:19:43 GMT -6
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Indianapolis. Ashton took note. Her reason for coming to New York was very interesting.
Archer asked where he went to school. "That depends," Ashton replied. "Do you want the long answer or the short answer?"
The long answer was much longer, and dealt with parents. Major life decisions. Basically, boring stuff. By comparison, the short answer was far preferable. And, well. Shorter.
Ashton glanced towards Mike. Mike met his eye from the kitchen. The look he gave Ashton told him 'not yet, but soon'. Mike was working on it. He gave Ashton another look. This second look was far more mysterious. Mike dropped his eyes back to his task before Ashton had a chance to grasp the full extent of the message, but... for a split second, he could of sworn Mike was telling him to 'cut the crap'. But what could that mean...?
Ashton's focus swung back to Archer. "Rhode Island Military Academy, then Berkley." He answered finally. "Graduated with degrees in criminology and sociology. You?"
Posted by Ashton Drake on Aug 7, 2011 11:00:38 GMT -6
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Ashton chimed in, "Make that two."
That was all it took. Mike went to work.
Ashton turned back to Archer, smiling. "Good choice. Their cheese is the best." Several different types on one pie. All of it, good. He turned the subject to her. "You never told me where you're from. I said I'm from Rhode Island, then we went on to greener pastures." Where was she from? What was all that about?
Posted by Ashton Drake on Aug 7, 2011 10:24:36 GMT -6
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Ashton nodded. "Good food, good drink. Good people. Usually, it's either the pub we were at, or here." For the guys. For him.
Ashton held up two fingers to the man behind the counter as they approached. He paused his counter-scrubbing to give a nod of acknowledgment, but said nothing further.
Ashton liked Mike. He was the strong silent type. When he said something, you listened. Otherwise, he didn't let his words get in the way. And he seemed to know exactly what you wanted, and what you needed. As if to emphasize that point, he plopped down two amazing-looking pints of good beer on the counter for them.
Ashton sat down on a stool by the pints and took one. He let Archer take the other.
"Archer here is ordering, Mike" He said, and drank.
Posted by Ashton Drake on Aug 7, 2011 9:58:50 GMT -6
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She took his arm. He quite agreed. She would have been a fool not to. Ashton led on.
Ashton glanced at the dame on his arm as she quested. Was there anything she ought know before they entered the shop? He shook his head. "They're good people. They won't steer ya wrong. And neither will I." It must have been the alcohol that did it. His accent came out a bit thicker than usual.
Without another word, he led her through the doors.
Posted by Ashton Drake on Aug 7, 2011 7:58:23 GMT -6
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"It's a good thing," Ashton noted, as he passed cash to the cabbie and went for his door. "That this pizza is great." He opened the door, stepped out, and held it for Archer.
Once they were safely on the curb, the cab left. Ashton turned to watch it go. Once it was but a speck on the horizon (or turned the corner and went out of sight, whichever came first), he returned his focus to Archer and the pizza joint.
Ashton offered Archer his arm with a smile. "Escort ya to the front door, if you'll have me." His voice dropped a bit on the last part of the statement. Confidently, he awaited her decision.
Posted by Ashton Drake on Aug 4, 2011 22:36:56 GMT -6
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Ashton smirked at her. "I grew up in Rhode Island." He said. As if that made any sense, whatsoever.
She flailed her arms, though? "Next time, you wanna try getting the cab driver's attention? Might be fun. Or maybe. I could teach you some tricks." Did he have any tricks? Wasn't it more luck and timing? And a good whistle? Whatever.
The pizza joint was good about helping people out when they needed a cab. They served beer. They had to be. Good beer. Good pizza, too.
Posted by Ashton Drake on Aug 3, 2011 12:56:33 GMT -6
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Tabs paid, they left the bar.
Archer stopped them, a good two feet out the door. Stopped them dead with a question. Turning slowly, Ashton looked her way. A wry laugh escaped him. "I thought you were gonna suggest a place. Since you suggested 'pizza'." Heh heh. But, if she didn't have anywhere in mind... "I think I know a place." Ashton noted, glancing down the street.
He raised an arm and whistled. As if on cue, the cab pulled up to the curb in front of them. They'd both been drinking. Driving right now would be the stupidest thing in the world. He could afford to pay for a cab. And what luck. Here one was.
Ashton opened the door to let Archer into the side first. Then, he got in after her. He told the cab driver where to go and they were on their way.
Posted by Ashton Drake on Aug 1, 2011 21:28:41 GMT -6
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Fair enough. She'd actually agreed. Ashton grinned. He hadn't thought she'd go for it. "Great." They could go now. "Let me just finish this."
Finish his beer, Ashton did.
He turned back to Archer. "Ready?" He asked.
If any of the guys had merely been late to show up to the party, when they got there, him and Archer would be long-gone. He was sure they'd understand. Pizza was pizza. Archer was paying. And...
Posted by Ashton Drake on Aug 1, 2011 20:51:45 GMT -6
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"Yes, but I think some of this art is simply too gaudy." A long-necked woman drawled. She shifted her eyes to glance at the art in the gallery, between sips of her glass of champagne.
The dark-haired man she was talking to looked disgruntled. "You think... urinals are gaudy?"
"Gem-covered and golden? Yes. Since when is that art?"
Ashton sighed and ignored the drone of art conversations. The NYPD had set him and his party of one up as police presence at the gallery, to protect the valuable works of art. He wasn't entirely sold on either of those describers. Art? Valuable? Sure, sure. At least he had someone to talk to about things that didn't make him hostile.
"So." He chanced a glance Archer's way. He regretted it instantly. Ashton's eyes shifted back to the gallery's 'art'. "Art." Some art. The gallery around him was nice and all, but... he hadn't expected the person he'd invited to outrank it in terms of beauty. And he was on duty... Yeah, this sucked.
Posted by Ashton Drake on Jul 31, 2011 14:22:09 GMT -6
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Rain is the most depressing weather condition in a big city. It washes the grime from the streets into the gutters. As the gutters overflow, peoples emotions get bottled in. Stuck. Confined. Like a ship in a bottle. You can tell what kind of person someone is by how they respond to this confinement. Some people play for an honest-to-goodness family board game night. Some sleep. Some drink. And some commit murder, to free themselves from the malaise, the malady of the rain.
Cold. Streets. Alleys. Emotions. The predator slipped through the shadows, a wraith in a tattered robe of blue plastic tarp. Hands closed in front of its chest, holding the robe tight around its form. Its neck.
Red. Stains. Dirty. Earlier that evening, someone had been eating hamburgers with plenty of ketchup. So much sugar in ketchup. The predator knew. It would be the death of them.
Red. Not ketchup. Blood. Maybe the ketchup hadn't been the only thing around to kill people, that night. His mouth. His jagged lips. Cheek muscles pulled tight in a smile as it slunk through the alley slime. Tonight had been good.
~*~
Raspberry-blueberry lights on the city street outside the small apartment duplex. Restless observers, standing around. They held their hands cupped in front of them, blocking their breath from making mist in the cold air of the night.
The police had been called in to respond to the discovery of the victim. Roberto Marten. Former father of one. Divorced. Put out. He'd been a heavyset man in his 30s. Unshaven, with a coarse scruff of black on his face. He'd had curly hair that had fallen around his neck on his head, when he'd been alive. No longer. Not much of a neck.
Detective Drake turned away from the gruesome scene to speak with forensic investigators about the discovery. There was another monster in the city tonight. He wanted to get his facts straight.