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.
Something about the question was funny enough to make him laugh. "Not exactly an asking situation."
He had to consider slowing his drinking down, if for nothing else than avoiding a transformation into the brooding alcoholic artist stereotype. Regardless, he took another deep swig of his lager. "We were dating pretty seriously actually. We had a falling out, and now I don't know if we're even still... well, something anymore."
He took a deep breath, feeling the disappointment of his situation sinking in again. "All I can do is give her time."
>> "You never know what's gonna help you in the field. It's a weird place."
In the world of mutants, Gawain had a point. Mutations could do weird things, and maybe even knowledge of color and sculpture could have their uses.
Then again, there were plenty of other talents Nate had that would be more useful in the field as a whole. "Well, maybe one day I'll let you in on a useful trick or two." The line between criminal talents and heroic talents was a thin one after all.
>> "So, dies life happen to be a she?"
Nate chuckled; the boy was sharp. "In the history of man, every nine times out of ten, a man's reason for drinking is a she."
He lifted his glass for another drink, finding it empty. It was apparent he was drinking at a quicker pace than he thought. The bartender must have noticed, because she before he could ask, she had another glass waiting for him. He accepted gladly, and she replied with a smile before tending to other customers. She was cute, but she was a redhead, and the mental trauma there was far too fresh.
"It's just... frustrating when you don't know where things stand, you know?" The boy's relationship seemed to be stable, so Nate was not exactly sure how well Gawain could relate.
The boy ordered his own beer, and the bartender lived up to the high standard Nate held her to by accepting the order without asking for any ID. God bless America.
>> "Well, ya ain't teaching me. I have not been taking many classes since I'm on the team. Sadly."
Nate ran through his memory of any specific "teams" at the Mansion. He remembered a handful, including something about frisbee or maybe paintball, but if Gawain was talking about a time commitment, it was probably more likely he was a member of the Mansion's secret squad. "Ah, an X, are ya?"
He took another sip of his beer. His knowledge of the X-Men was limited, even though he fought with one or two of them on Thanksgiving. Still, even if his girlfriend (or whatever she was) hated them, Nate had no qualms with the team of mutant heroes. "Well, I'm sure art lessons won't help you much in the field anyway."
Nate assumed the conversation might have been done, and tried returning to his lonely silence, but it seemed Gawain was more curious than that.
>> "So, what's up? I mean I'd probably be here every night if I had to teach those brats, but still..."
The thought did cross his mind to dismiss Gawain, but that was not in his nature. Gawain was trying to be a genuinely good guy. "Nah, school's basically done now." There was some apprehension, but he continued. "It's just... well, you know, life stuff." There; a vague offering that Gawain had every right to leave there.
Nate was wondering if the search was futile; Parker was not in his bush, and if he made it into the trees, it would be almost impossible to find him. Parker knew how to get to the apartment, so if Nate ended the spider scavenger hunt, things would probably work out anyway.
The defeated pet owner turned to let Sarah know he was giving up, but to his surprise, she succeeded in finding Parker, and Parker succeeded at finding her chest and neck. The situation had become critical very quickly, leaving very little time to problem-solve.
Nate jumped toward Sarah, grabbing Parker carefully by the body, making sure to avoid accidentally making contact with the poor girl's already traumatized chest. "Bad Parker!" Nate clipped the clasp of the leash on Parker's collar before placing him back on the ground.
Now it was time to run damage control, so Nate spoke quickly. "I'm real sorry. He didn't hurt you or nothing, right?" Parker could be very "playful," but he rarely caused any real harm.
Somewhere in Nate's cloudy haze, he heard a vaguely familiar voice greeting him. His head only turned slightly enough to see Gawain sitting down next to him. He was a boy Nate noticed around the Mansion occasionally; not a student, but most likely a resident. He was dating some girl who came and went, and Nate was pretty sure they were both under twenty-one.
Nate managed a grin and spoke in a low voice before returning to his beer. "Yeah. Gawain, right?" There was a long sip to empty out his glass before the nice lady bartender brought him a replacement.
"Ain't you kinda young to be hanging here?" Regardless, Nate kept his voice low enough not to draw any unnecessary attention to the boy. It would have been hypocritical for a patch'd rogue like Nate to play the role of morality police, nor did he have the desire or motivation to do so. If Gawain was in the mood for a drink in the dim lights of the bar, more power to him. "Be glad I ain't a better teacher."
Life had a way of changing. A year earlier, Nate would be spending his nights in the highest-class bars drinking expensive scotch and charming heiresses and businesswomen. Two weeks earlier, he would be enjoying a glass of wine on the couch with Quin.
But life had a way of changing, and Nate was staring into the amber depths of his beer in a dive of a bar, wondering how everything could go so wrong.
It had been almost two weeks, and there was no word from Quin. There was no evidence that Nate even had a girlfriend anymore. The school year was over, so Nate only had individual art lessons, and he was even taking a leave from those, letting the school know he would be requiring a week of personal leave.
Nate wanted to spend his time relegated to the apartment (almost all the time,) the park (for Parker's walks,) and the bar (for reckless self-medication.) He had no use for other people; they would simply get in the way of his aimless, purposeless drifting.
With a tab set up and soaking up his payment for the night, Nate muttered to the passing bartender, "Nother Sam Adams, sug."
Nate shook off the disclaimer, smiling at the curiosity of another artist. "No trouble at all. I work as an art teacher at a... private school in the city." For the moment, it was probably best to avoid the use of the term "mutant school." After all, there was truth to the statement: the Mansion was a very private school.
Nate focused his search on a different bush, since it was wisest to spread the search. Unbeknownst to him, Parker was in another bush happily nibbling on a discarded hot dog until he noticed the leaves being moved. Through his collective eyes, he spotted a young woman, and if she was looking for him, she obviously wanted to play.
Parker jumped off the ground and out of the bush, aiming for the woman's chest as a place to land so he could playfully nibble on her hair with his fuzzy mandibles.
Nate replied to her act of kindness with a winning smile. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Sarah!"
>> "Yeah, I am. I have an art degree. Though it doesn't do me much good with the job I have right now."
Nate's chuckle was meant to be quietly to himself, but in the end it was loud enough for her to hear it. "Well, I feel bad now! Here I am self-taught and teaching art." Admittedly, his life was not the type to get him into a fancy school, but at least his work was high-quality enough to pass for the real things he replaced with them. "New York's an art mecca; I'm sure you'll find something worthy of your talents," he assured her with a wink.
>> "So where do you wanna start?"
It was a good question; Central Park was a big place. "Um... well, Parker tends to gravitate toward trees and bushes, so maybe keep near those? Or maybe he found someone else's pet?" No, if that happened by now, there would be screaming as a pet owner watched his dog being nibbled on.
As a form of apology, Nate crouched down and helped her collect art supplies, which he had to admit intrigued him.
>> "Uh, I don't think so. I kinda had my eyes closed when we bumped into each other."
So Parker had not passed by recently, or at least not recently enough for the girl to notice. "You mean when I bumped into you," he joked. "Darn."
>> "I can help you look if you want. I have some free time, and besides, two sets of eyes might be able to find your pet faster."
The offer was generous, and he could not deny how helpful she would be, but... he might have to explain what his pet was. Maybe he would deal with that when he came to it. "Really? Well, if you're sure, thank you very much, miss!" He extended a hand of introduction. "I'm Nate."
As the search resumed, Nate decided to question the contents of her bag he had been curious about. "So I'm guessing you're an artist?"
Life was not going Nate's way as of late. After many really good months on the straight and narrow with an amazing woman and a rewarding job, the hand of mutant misfortune had to smack him down. Now, Quin knew about his past and Nate was left waiting on her decision to know whether or not he was still in a happy relationship or if he was single. Or incarcerated.
If that mess was not bad enough, Nate was now stalking his own giant arachnid. On an everyday walk, Parker heard something in the distance and took advantage of Nate's dazed and depressed state. The leash slipped out of his hand and Parker was gone, so now, it was Nate's task to look around Central Park before someone shot Parker or the spider did something to get his owner arrested.
"Parker! Parker, come back here!"
There was one thing to be said about New Yorkers: they handled weird well. For some reason, there was no one running away or screaming. Parker might have been just compact and fast enough that they assumed he was a cat. That was good panic-wise, but it left little in the way of a trail.
"Parker, when I find you, you better--oh, sorry!" By walking backward and shouting for his pet, Nate predictably bumped into someone. He turned to apologize to the tan young woman for his rudeness. "My fault. Hey, by any chance have you seen a stray-- er, pet running around?" If she did not see Parker, there was no need to throw out the "s" word.
And so it all came down to, "I'll call you." He would give her space, and she would make up her mind. When that time came, if he was incredibly lucky, she would decide to still talk to him. If he was unlucky, she would reconsider breaking out the handcuffs. Either way, he would be waiting. "I'll be waiting. I'm not going anywhere." For once, there would be no running from his problems.
Nate walked in silence to the door until his hand was turning the knob. He turned around one last time. "I love you, Quin." Maybe it was not fair to her, but he could not leave without saying it one more time.
Nate/Stephen trudged in silence until he was in the elevator. There, he calmly punched a wall on the way down and out of the building.
How does someone prove that he has turned his life around? There was not exactly much of a paper trail. "I'll do whatever it takes. If you want to see closed accounts, I can do that. If you need proof that I've been living off of paintings and a teacher's salary for the last months, I'll scrounge it up. From this moment on, I won't tell you a single lie.
"I'm not sure what I could do, but I'll do it. I love you more than anything I've ever known, and if there is anything I can do to show you I'm the man you loved."
The whole evening was wearing Nate down, and if there was anything he could do to make things better, it was not going to happen in one night. "Maybe I should give you some space..." he muttered in defeat.
Miss Gemma made the call, and Stephen spoke to Quin, who apparently knew more about what was happening. She told him she would come to pick him up and the call ended.
Stephen hit the red button to end the call and looked up at Miss Gemma. "She is coming to pick me up. I guess this is happening to a lot of people in the city..." That put a whole new spin on the problem.
"Well, I should go wait for Quin." Stephen got out of his seat and gave Miss Gemma a big hug; she was, after all, one of the only reasons he was even close to being calm. "Thank you for everything, Miss Gemma."
It was hard to face the fact that she had plenty of good points. Deep down, Stephen was still a part of him, and there were times when he felt the temptations of his former life calling to him. He never worried about succumbing to them, but they were there.
If there was one thing to relate to, it was the name-calling problem. "If it helps, you aren't the only one. I feel like a schizophrenic most of the time." It was the drawback of using aliases.
They were at a crossroads, and neither of them knew what came next. She knew nothing about Stephen, and there were definitely things she should not know. There were a few things that she could know, and maybe it was important she did. "Stephen never stole from people who were struggling. He never committed any violent crimes. He was how I originally learned how to paint, fence and cook. Stephen was the one to fall in love for the first and only time before you."
The silence in the room was too unnerving to not resume talking. "He helped make me what I am, but I've done everything I can to be something better. I even anonymously donated away the money when I told you I love you."
Nate shoved his hands in his pockets. "Lots of guys say it, but in the most literal way, being with you has made more of an honest man out of me than I thought I had left."
