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.
It's time for the annual Greenwich Village Street Fair. All are welcome to attend this New York City fair. Paul/Phoenix is already wandering the fair and bumping into people. Care to have a meet and greet? Or maybe you're interested in being a pick pocket or something more nefarious? Anything is possible when you throw this many humans and mutants into one area!
The advertisement had been in the paper for several weeks and while fairs did not have a huge draw on Paul they were much better than simply sitting around the apartment with nothing to do. The sun was shining brightly and the temperature had actually cooled off ever so slightly so that even though it was still warm, the weather was quite nice. Set up along Broadway from Houston to Grand Street, the street fair was filled with booths offering arts, crafts, antiques, exhibits, and ethnic cuisines. While quite a few people had come simply to shop and browse, Paul had come with one intention. Eating.
At the moment he was moving through the crowd, enjoying the sound of street performers playing a guitar, drum, and trumpet over on the corner while sampling bow tie pasta with sausage and sweet peppers. He had dressed for comfort with tennis shoes, denim jeans, and a black polo untucked in a casual manner. He had a hundred dollars or so in cash carefully split up between his pockets so that if somehow a pick-pocket picked the pocket of another pick-pocket and made off with his cash, he would still have more to fall back on.
Polishing off his pasta he deposited the empty foam plate in a trash can and then moved back along the line of vendors, eyes peeled for a decent beverage. He almost never drank alcohol and on a slightly warm day like they were having either a sweet tea or lemonade sounded very refreshing. Moving through the crowd he suddenly tripped over piece of trash carelessly thrown down on the street and stumbled into another person enjoyed the fair.
"Sorry! Didn't mean to bump you." Paul quickly apologized as he righted himself and turned to face the person he had intruded upon.
The goodbye was cordial and Lori was even able to thrown in her own teasing response to his comment. It was a good way to end the conversation but the most important thing was the hand shake. Maybe that didn't mean a whole lot to her, being as young as she was, but for Paul a hand shake was a symbol of developing trust and belief. He remember his father shaking hands with men as their form of a contract versus the written paper that had become so popular in the 20th century. To shake someones hand was to give them your word, your bond, a piece of yourself. It was not something to be taken lightly or to be offered indiscriminately.
"I'll get in a touch within the next couple of weeks. I look forward to our next conversation." Paul said with a smile as he released the handshake and moved toward the door, "Take care of yourself Lori."
***
An hour or so later Paul finally climbed the stairs leading up to his own apartment. Shedding the clothes and tossing them straight into the garbage he headed into his own room for a shower and clean clothing. The conversation with Lori had been one of the most intellectually stimulating he had enjoyed in quite some time and she had given him a lot to think about. He definitely needed to meet some of the other members of the Order and while that held his interest the idea of more one on one time with Lori was even more stimulating. It was to soon to say but he may have finally found the type of person he had been looking for. The type of person that could lead the world down the path that needed to be taken "Only time will tell."
A pharmaceutical company? She ran a pharmaceutical company? At least that explained the business attire he had first met her in because it hadn't fit with what he'd seen of the Sanctuary thus far. This was not a place for dressing up and acting prim and proper but a pharmaceutical company most definitely was. The idea of being able to medicate humans to activate the X-Gene was an interesting concept and a path that Paul never would have considered. Had she come up with the idea all by herself? If so then she was far smarter than he had given her credit.
"They play well with the population except for a few stragglers that take far longer to learn the lesson." Paul observed, meaning the men they had met in the warehouse. He would have to check the statistics but if what Lori was saying was true then the area directly around the Sanctuary probably had one of the lowest crime rates anywhere now that most of the human population had been driven away.
Lisa was a human? Lori's 'best right hand' as she so eloquently put it was a human? It was an interesting fact and demonstrated something that many individuals, both human and mutant, had yet to admit. Humans and mutants could cohabitate without hating each other.
"If she is human then I'm very impressed with how well she holds her own among mutants." The admiration was not overflowing but it was most definitely there, "If her scene with Jack earlier was any indication then she is a force to be reckoned with."
For a few moments Paul fell silent, thinking about all they had discussed and then he slowly stood back up to his feet. "well, I appreciate you're taking the time to speak with me Lori. With your permission I'll stop by again when I'm slightly more presentable." He said with a wave of his hand toward the worn and ragged clothing he had on, "I'll stop monopolizing your attention and let you get back to your vehicle project."
If this was the end of the conversation then it seemed far to formal to Paul's ears. He didn't want this to be a strictly business relationship but instead to have at least a trace of friendship in it. While Lori would have to prove herself a little more to completely earn his trust the foundation was definitely being laid. "Though next time I hope we can skip the deadly side of our introduction." He said, a teasing tone entering in his voice as he slowly extended a hand in the gesture he had refused less than an hour before, "Maybe a cup of coffee instead?"
Love was her driving force but love for what? Or whom? From the tone of her voice it wasn't one individual person, be it either man or woman, that she was in love with. A familial unit perhaps, the joining of brother and sister mutants that gave her a feeling of home. It was a nice sentiment but did it have the staying power to actually move forward and change the world? Was it something that could give her strength when nothing else could sustain her and keep her warm when the whole world was frozen over with ice?
"And where do you see humans fitting in the equation?" Paul asked quietly, mentally noting that fact that she had not bothered to ask him another question. Perhaps they were getting into a topic serious enough that she felt it was time to dispense with their silly game. Maybe she thought it was time to move on to the real reason they were both sitting here talking so calmly. "Can a human be a mutants partner or are they simply servants or slaves to be ruled over? Are they a lower class or an equal with their own strengths and weaknesses?"
If Paul was honest, he was probably being slightly unfair. He was throwing questions Lori's way that he didn't necessarily know how to answer. Maybe he needed to voice that and offer up his own opinion. Because he needed to do a little more giving and a little less taking to show that he was serious about this subject.
"I know it's probably a strange view point for most mutants but I happen to believe that there are some humans that really are our equals if only for the fact that they don't judge us just because we have special abilities. There are plenty of humans that are no better than slaves or servants but there are also those that deserve more than a life of servitude." Paul answered his own question, allowing Lori time to think about her own response if that was what she needed, "I'm not concerned with taking the lives of those that would stand in the way of progress, like those men we face in the warehouse, but I am also willing to protect humans that speak out for mutant rights and try to be a voice of reason in this world."
There was most definitely good and evil in the world but on the issue of mutant rights there was a lot of gray areas. He would never be one that subscribed to the idea of killing all humans so that mutants could roam the world without concern for the lower life form but he also didn't believe that mutants should be subservient to humans while worrying about whether their abilities would frighten someone. Some of their abilities were frightening but damn it, that didn't mean the person with the abilities was any less afraid than the ones just watching!
The man was a car fanatic... well that gave them almost nothing to talk about. Vehicles were simply something to get a person from point 'A' to point 'B'. They were not living things to be babies and pampered. They were tools for accomplishing a goal and nothing more. If Paul met someone that liked them then good for that person but they couldn't expect him to show a whole lot of interesting in something like that. Guns were pretty much the same thing. They were tools to accomplish an objective, not something to go crazy about.
"Operating your own business can be a challenge." Paul responded as he picked up on a thread he could at least talk about, "But a vehicle like yours definitely comes in handy for my line of work. Have you thought about doing tree trimming or lawn maintenance? You have almost the perfect vehicle for small jobs in those fields."
But suddenly Joe asked the question that made him stop and think. "My insanity?" Paul pondered silently as he thought about his interests, "Finding a leader that can guide the world along the right path and then supporting them with all my strength. But that's not really something you talk about at a first meeting."
"When I'm not working I like reading to try and better myself and I'm a pretty avid runner. Running is soothing, it helps calm me down. I dabble in a few other things but probably my biggest activity is running." Paul finally responded, knowing that it probably wasn't what the other man was wanting to hear. Deciding to throw Joe a bone so that their meal didn't get completely awkward Paul continued, "I've been to the gun range a few times but I don't own one. What types of weapon do you have?"
"I supposed that's true." Paul replied with a smile, "I guess you can't stop to chat with every landscaper you happen to see working at someone's house. Something different has to happen to attract your attention."
She seemed pleasant enough and since he didn't really know a whole lot of people in New York yet it was good to add another name to his mental Rolodex. Perhaps they might even bump into each other again sometime. But wait, his mind was just catching up to a comment she had made. Not the strangest skin? He she made the acquaintance of another mutant with more of an outward display? It was an interesting question but somehow Paul didn't think now was the time or place to suddenly ask, "Hey, have you seen a mutant before?" besides, this was New York City... everyone had seen mutants before!
"Do you live in this neighborhood or just nearby?" Paul asked as he finished rinsing out his shirt and then pulled the saturated garment over his head. Suddenly it felt like every hair was standing on end as the cool wet fabric clung to his skin. No, that definitely wasn't an enjoyable feeling.
"I'm a little further into the city myself. Live in an apartment over a bakery." He offered, just so that she knew he wasn't trying to stalk her down to find her place of residence. No, he was just making conversation... just conversation.
Was he interested in the Order's hierarchical structure? It was a question that deserved some very careful consideration. This was the woman that had killed him only an hour or so before but yet he was already beginning to put that to the side. Her choice to do it could be excused and without that fact holding him back he had to admit that yes, he was very interested in the Order's hierarchical structure. On the surface this was the sort of organization that might actually be able to do some good in the world and it was possible, very possible, that this was the perfect woman for that type of leadership roll.
"I might be interested in even more than just that." Paul replied quietly and honestly, not even counting that as a question on his mental list. This was a conversation that was beginning to stand apart from the other questions. It was a conversation that could lead to a very different relationship between himself and the Order.
Lori's response to his blue comment was enough to draw a slight smile to the surface. If he was a psychologically developed as he could ever get then he was in trouble because there was still a lot he couldn't comprehend or understand.
The conversations nuances moved on to information about the woman out front. Apparently she had the gift of organization, a gift that many people lacked. If she could keep everything running smoothly than she was definitely worth more than her weight in gold.
"1956. The Algerian War." Paul replied slowly, "And as a gesture of friendship, I'll give you the next one too. 1960. New York City."
He had answered her questions so now it was his turn to ask another one but there was the rub... what else did he want to know? What was the most important thing he could gather from this first meeting? What would make him want that second meeting even more than he already did? "What is it that drives you? What is the goal you wish to accomplish through the strength and abilities of those in the Order?" It was an honest question but it was also a direct challenge to the woman. Was she worthy of having Paul's trust? Was she worthy of leading the Order?
"I've got your number in my cell and I'll definitely use it if I need help again." Paul replied with a smile, "It's not easy to find people that are willing to do physical work."
After taking a sip of the soda he had ordered, Paul turned the conversation toward Joe. Sure, he knew the guy was a good worker but beyond that he didn't know much about him. Besides, they had a few minutes to kill until their burgers showed up.
"So besides delivering pizza and helping out the odd landscaper, what do you like doing? What holds your interests?" Paul asked idly as he focused on the younger man. From the type of vehicle the man drove Paul was pretty sure he must be a tinkerer. No one was going to own a vehicle like that unless they were starting their own army or they were willing to roll up their sleeves and do some of their own mechanical work. I mean, could a truck like that even use standard parts? Surely they had to be special ordered, didn't they? It was an interesting question though probably not interesting enough for him to actually research it. Paul was most definitely not an advanced mechanic. Sure, he could change the oil, oil filter, air filter, fuel filter, battery, spark plugs... the basics but anything beyond that would take a qualified mechanic.
Increasingly valuable? This girl was sly and while Paul could respect that he could also play at the exact same game. He might allow her to win a round or two but he was also going to make it clear that he was on to her little scheme. As much as she was trying to downplay the value of his information she kept throwing more and more questions his way while offering nothing extra on her own part. It was an interesting mental exercise and though Paul might not be wiling to admit the truth he was actually beginning to feel a touch of admiration for the woman in front of him. Sure, she had killed him, but she was extremely bright and obviously tried to be in control of every situation that came along. His presence earlier had threatened that control and thus she had dealt with the threat. He couldn't fault her for that.
"I never said this was a cult, I simply used that quote because it seemed to fit the situation. By withdrawing from society and 'Carving a place of their own' as you put it, you are in essence creating a new society. History and even nature shows that in order to have a working society there must be laws or rules in place. Even if the rule is something as simple as 'the strong survive' in the animal world or as complex as the hierarchical ruling systems implemented in medieval Europe. Society without rules withers and dies."
Not wanting to sound like some sort of boring college professor, Paul quickly moved on to the two, no three, questions that Lori had just put forth. For a brief moment he contemplated answering all of them but then decided that it was time for him to exert at least a little bit of his own control over the conversation.
"Personally, I'm a fan of deep blue, almost black but not quite." He chose the most innocuous of the three questions, inwardly grinning at the fact he had momentarily foiled his mental adversary, "What can you tell me about your Miss Lisa? Most secretaries or receptionists I've met over the years don't have the sort of authority I saw her exhibiting over the man named Jack out in the lobby."
The shirt still contained ants and so after gingerly picking it up he carried it toward the hose. The lady had a sense of humor and he felt his smile growing ever so slightly as she easily responded to his small jest.
"Well, I'll take pleasure in knowing that I'm the first to satisfy your desire for men laundering on the lawn." He responded with a chuckle as he grabbed the hose and began to thoroughly rinse out his last garment. The rental truck was going to get soaked on his drive home but that was no big deal. At worst he'd have to pay a little extra so they could have the vehicle cleaned. At best, it would be all dried out before he ever returned it.
"My name's Paul." He spoke over the noise of the hose as he looked back up at the woman with a smile, "And it's a pleasure to meet you, though I wish our first meeting had taken place with both of us fully clothed instead of only one of us. You have me at a slight disadvantage."
It was possible that she could take that statement the wrong way but really he didn't mean anything by it and wasn't suggesting anything. It was basically a statement of fact. "I do a lot of morning jogs when I don't have work to do." Paul changed the subject quickly just in case he had accidentally offended her, "Everything is pretty peaceful if you can just get out before most people have gotten up to head for work. Of course, in a neighborhood like this it's pretty peaceful after everyone has gone to work too."
Human law could not keep up with human evolution... an interesting thought. It was definitely one that Paul himself had considered and even agreed with on some points but the implication of the statement was still frightening. That would definitely have to be the direction of his next question. Funneling money, heading up research, and even taking out the enemy was completely understandable and no real shocker. He would have liked to pursue the issue about rules a little further but he had agreed on a give and take session so it was only fair that he stuck with his own proposal.
"I was born in Europe in the year 1919." Paul replied slowly as he thought back, trying to remember the other date she had asked for. Once the second world war had begun all of the years had kind of run together and to say clearly exactly when he had died would be difficult. "World War Two kind of messed up the time line in my head but my first death should have been in the mid 1940's. '44, '45, or '46. Somewhere in there."
Pausing for a moment, Paul gave the young woman a sly smile and his eyes narrowed shrewdly, "And bravo... you have succeeded in making me answer two question almost without noticing. I'll have to be more careful with you." It was a minor thing to notice but it was also important. When consciously or subconsciously she had put her words together in such a way that what was really two questions sounded like one. She was a slippery one and a lot smarter than he had previously given her credit for. Mentally he gave her a couple more points than he had previously awarded her.
"If you don't believe that human rules apply to mutants then what rules do apply? Do you have some sort of guidelines or do you paraphrase the bible to say that all mutants 'do what seems right in their own eyes'?" Perhaps it was to soon to move into philosophy but now that the words had been spoken there was no taking them back. Watching the young woman intently he continued to try and get a feel for what she was and could possibly become. Was she really a person with the gift of leadership or was she simply someone that had a power that allowed her to stand above everyone else because she was stronger.
So she preferred more simple pleasures. "Reading... I bet she's a reader." Paul decided with a slight grin as he tried to fit her looks with some sort of relaxation technique. Of course he could be completely wrong and she actually was into competitive mud wrestling or some such thing. Moving into her office he took a seat on one of the cheap metal folding chairs and tried to get as comfortable as was possible in those things.
"I resurrect after I die completely restored and renewed. My energy is returned, all injuries are healed, and I feel like a new man." Paul finally got around to answering her question since she had been nice enough to answer his. "The first time it happened I woke up on a train full of other people that had died permanently. Mildly disturbing but I guess you get used to it."
Glancing around the office Paul noticed one very important fact. There was absolutely no personal mementos anywhere. There were no pictures, no plaques or awards, not even a personalized coffee cup. It wasn't a room that she called home it was just a room she kept for appearance's sake.
"Now what is the Order?" Paul as he became serious and once again focused on the blond lady in the coveralls, "From your reaction to the men in that warehouse I highly doubt it's an organization to help humans and mutants work past their differences."
The surprise that appeared in her eyes was wonderful and Paul couldn't help the fact that the corners of his lips had curled up into a tight half smile. She hadn't been expecting him to reappear. She had thought he was finished never to be seen again. That shock would be enough for now and he could enjoy savoring the look in his mind.
Of course, the other two in the room were completely different. The big man just look confused as though he was having difficulty understanding the situation while the other woman looked about ready to kill him with her bare hands. In fact, Paul was even starting to wonder and try to come to a conclusion about who was scarier. Blondie over by the wall or Lisa, if the name plate on her desk was any indication.
"You're not the first I've done that too and I'm sure you won't be the last." His voice had a hint of a chuckle in it. Perhaps a touch of condensation as well but that part was open for interpretation. Heck, she should be happy he wasn't focused on bringing her life to a violent end, shouldn't she? Any sort of friendliness should be appreciated, right?
As the conversation continued between the other three in the room, Paul began to detect a definite hierarchy. Apparently blondie was at the top because even though Miss Lisa seemed ticked at her, she was taking ordered for the younger woman. Lisa probably came next since she had been the one yelling at big man while Mr. Skeleton was somewhere near the bottom. A common lackey it seemed and not a really bright one if his question was any indication.
"Would you care to join me in my office, Paul? My name is Lori Faust."
Blondie was Lori Faust. Well at least he now had a name to put with his most recent killer. Unfortunately she was now stepping over to offer him her hand in what... friendship? Apology? Setting his own hands rather firmly in the pockets of his leather jacket Paul simply met Lori's gaze with a very even look. "You just killed me. I don't really think I'm quite ready for that, but a conversation might be a good idea. Please, lead the way." Paul wasn't trying to to hurt the woman's feelings but he was also keeping everything clearly on the table. Was she really expecting him to forgive and forget that quickly? Sure, death didn't have a permanent hold on him but he had still died for crying out loud!
"Tell you what... I'll trade you, answer for answer." Paul said conversationally as he followed the woman to her office, "Is this how you normally unwind after a hard days work? Some sort of auto repair if your clothes are any indication."
Apparently Paul had walked into the middle of an argument and he paused, using the distraction for his own purposes as his eyes quickly swept the room. Tall, skeletal, dangerous looking man being yelled at by a spunky woman. Apparently the Sanctuary must be full of those types because this woman probably would fit in perfectly with the blond.
Someone's throat was cleared and six eyes all focused on the speaker. It was the blond but something had happened to her clothes as well. Was it possible to fry cloth with electricity? "I'll have to research that." Paul thought to himself as his right hand slipped into his jacket.
Now it was decision time. Did he take full revenge by taking the woman's life in exchange for his own, accept that it was an honest mistake on her part, or choose something in between the first two options? His fingers closed around the blanket covered handle and as his arm began to withdraw he knew what choice he had to make.
"Next time, listen when someone says they're a mutant." Paul spoke in a lecturing tone as he whipped the knife toward the wall approximately three or four feet away from the blond, "Your next accidental victim might not be so understanding."
OK, so maybe he wasn't being understanding, maybe it was more curiosity. If the blond and Mr. Skeleton were any indication about what he could find at the Sanctuary then it might be just what he was looking for. Maybe someone here would be a person he could support, or maybe they'd just be more idiots like so many he'd run into in the past.
"I'm Paul McCoy. Anyone else care to offer up a name?"
