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 was not often that any of Nate's old contacts would reach out to him since he set out on the straight and narrow road. A major reason for this was Nate clearly telling his old contacts not to call or message him again. The men he knew were off-color, so there was little reason to keep in touch.
It was a surprise, then, when an old contact e-mailed him about a job. What was most surprising to Nate was the legal nature of the job. All he was being asked to do was paint a portrait for a rich woman.
Well, that was not "all" that mattered about the job offer. For one, Nate was told that he came to mind when the request came up because "he was usually pretty good with other weirdos." The woman was unique; most likely a mutant, and more notably a physical mutant. If that information was not intriguing enough, it was mentioned that the client believed herself to be a goddess.
Yes, Nate was being asked to paint a portrait for a goddess, with followers and everything. He was unsure whether the woman truly believed in her divinity or if it was just a very effective ruse to rally followers and money; (if it was the latter, he would have to give credit where credit was due to a fantastic and elaborate con.) The one point that was stressed to Nate was to treat the woman with reverence, especially if he was hoping to get paid.
And get paid, he probably would, judging by the "goddess's" living arrangements. He was told to meet her in her incredibly lavish suite in the Hotel Plaza Athénée. Nate researched the job, threatened his old contact, and cleared the whole thing with a wary Quin, but everything seemed on the up and up.
Nate spoke with someone at the desk in the lobby and was informed in return that he was expected in the top floor penthouse suite. Still in awe that the job seemed to be the real deal, Nate gathered his supplies and followed a bellhop who escorted him to the elevator and then to the top floor.
Nate tipped the young bellhop, who took the elevator back down to the lobby, and took the short walk to the door he was instructed to knock on, and knock he did, now very nervous to meet his client for the day.
>> "I hope it doesn't come to that. I really hate police stations."
Nate did his best to avoid laughing at the irony of Sarah sharing her opinion with him. "Yeah, I know that feeling." Now that Quin knew about his past, he wondered if she would connect it with his aversion to visiting her at work.
>> "Maybe it's under there."
Sarah looked around underneath a bush, maybe hoping she would hit gold twice, once with Parker and the second with her wallet.
Not to quash her optimism, Nate elected to ask the folks nearby enjoying the park if they spotted the missing wallet. "Excuse me, my friend dropped her wallet. Have you seen it by any chance?" Hopefully one of them would have some luck.
>> "I still say it was a combination of both of us hitting each other."
The girl was definitely polite, which was not exactly an asset in the big city, but refreshing nonetheless. "We'll have to agree to disagree," he joked. He was much more inclined to blame the event on himself, since he had made quite the habit of bumping into women in New York.
>> "Thanks for buying this. This is going to sound really weird, but you remind me of my brother. And that's not a bad thing!"
She was not lying about her comment being weird, but it was not weird in a bad way. Being like a brother usually meant someone thinks you are safe and caring, and as a man who was not looking for a date, that was probably the best option. "Well then, if I'm gonna be a good brother-figure, I darn-better find that wallet."
There was, of course, the possibility of the wallet being gone or taken, and there had to be a plan B. "If it's not there, my girlfriend is in the police, so I can help you with putting in a report if need be." Of course, he would not actually go to Quin; probably just one of the other policemen or women he met through her. No need to interrupt Quin's "time to think" for something like this.
>> "I think I lost my wallet. It was there before but I can't find it and... well it has everything I need. My money, credit card, identification, keys. They're all in it. I really need to find it."
Nate felt a moment of unexpected guilt. It was most likely that if she lost her wallet and it was in her bag, it fell out of place when they collided before. It was one of the rare moments when someone lost money and it was his fault and he did it unintentionally. "I'm sorry... it must've happened when I bumped into you."
The girl was nice enough, and she already assisted him, so it would be rude not to return the favor. "I'll help you look. After all, without you, I'd still be looking in trees for Parker."
Nate started towards the bench he originally met Sarah in front of. "Maybe the wallet will still be there?" It would be a problem if someone inconsiderate found her wallet, and in New York, the odds were about fifty-fifty.
Nate never gave much thought to the "End of Days." He was not the most religious man, and he knew the sun was not scheduled to explode for some time to come, so he always kept his mind firmly in the present.
Nate never expected he would be around to see the end of the world.
Everything was going wrong, and as anyone could have predicted, the masses quickly united in a rioting chorus blaming the X-Men, the Mansion, and mutants in general.
Stephen Graves would have cut ties with the Mansion and hid away until the worst of the panic was over. After a year of struggling and love and attempts at redemption, there was one thing left for Nate to cling to, and it was that Nate Holloway was a better man than Stephen Graves.
He was not one of the X-Men, but Nate was a proud member of the Mansion family, and if it was time for a last stand, there was nothing in the disestablishing world that could keep him from the front lines.
Nate was one of the first faces the mobs would see, stationed between the fence and the Mansion. The outdoor lights accompanied the sun, giving Nate as much shadow power as he could manage.
The mob could be seen in the distance, making its way as an intimidating force toward the Mansion. In the final moments Nate had left before the warfront caught up to him, he wondered if Quin was alright. She was a police officer and a mutant, so she was either doing her best to control the mess, she was being blamed for it, or she was there when everything went wrong... Nate shook the thought off, trying to remain as close to optimistic as he could manage.
Nate could not afford to be distracted. He had been a great many things in his life, but right now, he was a teacher, and his students resided in the heart of the Mansion. If the angry horde was going to lay a hand on a single child, it would be a hand stained in the last drop of blood Nate could give.
>> "Meat is one of the things I can't live without. I can pay for mine though. You don't have to."
For some reason, it always made Nate happy to hear that someone was a proud carnivore. "Good to hear. Though you best be putting away any silly notion of paying. You'll offend my gentlemanly sensibilities." Nate was good at filling many stereotypical roles, but he enjoyed "Southern Gentleman" more than most.
He asked the vendor for a coney dog with the works and waited for Sarah's order before paying.
Once the food was in their hands, Nate quickly chomped on his hot dog and enjoyed the combination of flavors contributed to the meat, coney island sauce, onions, and mustard. "I find vegetarians all around city's like this these days, so I always ask. I could never imagine giving up my spot on the food chain, though."
Handing the second hot dog to Sarah, he noticed she was looking rather determinedly through her bag. "Everything okay, hun?"
So now time to think could possibly include time to think together. If he were in Quin's position, that would sound like a bad way to think with a clear, uninfluenced mind. Nate would do everything he could to make things work, since he had little reason to think about their situation objectively.
It sounded much more fair to continue leaving a wealth of space between himself and Quin, but the more his body readjusted to the sensation of being in her proximity, the harder it was to think about what was fair. "I miss time together," he admitted.
Quin made herself absolutely clear: she was still wary about trusting Nate, and he had a long way to go before they could be considered better. "No lies. I'm done." It was hard enough keeping secrets from her before; he would not be able to handle it now.
So they were somewhere between being together and not being together, and they had a long way to go. "Can I take you out for dinner tomorrow, or are we not there yet?"
She was right: space did not mean pretending like Quin did not exist. He assumed it meant behaving as though Nate did not exist. It was now apparent that in their situation, "space" did not mean space in any sense he knew before, which was honestly frustrating. "It's not like I didn't want to call. Hell, I missed your voice." Boy, that sounded kind of pathetic outloud. "I don't know, I thought not seeing me would let you make a choice without me influencing you."
Nate had to give some sort of explanation for his actions. "Cut me some slack, I've never done this before. You're the first person... well, you're the only one I've ever wanted to keep around."
Where did they go from here? "Honestly? I have no idea. Could you even take me back at this point?"
His eyes were adjusting to the dark,. Looking at Quin, Nate could not help but believe there was one perfect thing to say that would win her back. For the life of him, Nate could not figure out the perfect movie-quality line to save his relationship. "I love you, Quin, and I want this to work again."
>> "If everyone has pets like yours, I have no need to worry."
Sarah had a point. Nate recalled meeting Agnes thanks to Parker's appetite. He also remembered meeting Megan, but just as quickly banished the memory from his head. Not everyone Parker dragged him to was nice, but at least they were all interesting.
>> "So you're not a native to the city either? What made you wanna come here?"
Nate chuckled at the first question. It was not often with his accent that people accused him of being a New York native. "I reckon plenty of the same reasons most come here-- needing work and needing a change, and New York's good for both."
Just as Nate predicted, they were approaching a hot dog stand. "Any chance you want an authentic New York hot dog? My treat, assuming you ain't a veggie." Hot dogs had to be the bane of a vegetarians existence.
He did not imagine it; Quin definitely replied to the kiss. Now that the moment had passed, the terrifying possibility that she would have resisted or turned away from the kiss hit him. Either of those would have ironically been the kiss of death, but at least now he knew there was a part of her, however minute it might be, that wanted to kiss him back.
She slid off and into the seat beside him. It was dark enough on the train that Nate was not concerned about the handful of strangers in the car. Tomorrow, he and Quin would have been nameless, faceless memories without consequence to them. "I'm kinda glad you didn't, but go ahead if it'll help."
Quin asked her next question, and Nate was floored. Apparently he was supposed to call! Someone needed to write a manual for men stuck in his position, because he was unsure whether every choice he could make was just a lose-lose.
"I wanted to!" He caught himself before he spoke too loudly. "You said you needed space, and I wanted to give it to you."
There was a hesitation before he continued, because he knew what he said would not be fair while she was still making a choice. "I miss you like crazy, Quin. I hate this." There: the two texts he never sent in the span of two sentences.
How did he respond to that? He probably did not want her thinking he was out partying every night since they stopped talking, but he did not want her to think he was a total mess without her. Or did he? His inexperience in relationships was finally showing. "Oh, painting mostly. Not sleeping too well," he conceded.
She gave him a vague answer in return, followed by the immediate fall into his lap. He wanted to ask if she was okay, or maybe help her up. All the logical, polite things were hard to focus on when they were finally touching. After such a long time without being this close to her, Nate was overwhelmed with the warmth of her atop his lap and the scent of her hair.
It was not fair and it was not right, but Nate's hand took Quin's cheek in the dark subway car and he kissed her. After a few seconds, he pulled back, shocked at himself. "I, uh..."
Nate was not really expecting Quin to take the seat; she was the independent type, and not exactly the model example of traditional gender roles. She must have noticed his haggard state, which left Nate with little excuse not to sit down. "Yeah, I guess it's been a long few days." Or weeks.
Nate took his seat as the train darkened, entering a tunnel. There were not nearly as many people left in the car now. If Quin wanted to, she could have taken another seat; she could have taken a seat on the other side of the car. Still, she remained close. Did that mean something?
He had to try learning something about the time she had spent since their last meeting. His one weapon in life was always knowledge, and now he was on the shortest end of that stick. "So... how have things been for you?"
It was a generic question with a unique ending, as the car came to a sudden grinding halt.
Yup, no warning from the powers that be. She was expecting this less than he was, and now they were both standing awkwardly when they would have been happily conversing and maybe even holding hands a month ago.
Quin brought attention to Nate's phone. Was that a way of asking why he had not called her or just her being curious? Would she have wanted him to call her? The thought never crossed his mind-- he assumed she would just hang up on him after the hello. "No, just terrible subway reception. God bless New York."
There was a seat near them that was now empty. As tired as Nate was, he would have offered the seat to any standing woman, and Quin was no exception to that. "Um, you can have the seat if you like."
Yeah, small freaking world. They were in one of the world's biggest, most populated cities, and the fates arranged this little meeting. Maybe it was the power of prayer; Nate constantly spent his time wishing he could see Quin again. Apparently, when pleading your case to God or destiny, it was smart to iron out the details like "when" and "in a way that won't leave me standing there like an open-mouthed idiot."
All the bad considered, it was nice to feel his heart reacting to something again, even if it was five percent happiness and ninety-five percent instant anxiety.
He could not just pretend this did not happen and look away. They were talking now, and he had to say something. "Any chance this came up in your horoscope?"
