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.
This one can see right through the sugar coating, very well. Markus thought again as he began to open his mouth and speak."I can offer a lot of things. Social appeal, intuition into the law, but at the moment the best and most tangible at this point, would be money." In the moments of forming this sentence Markus had removed his sunglasses and reached into his pocket in a well timed execution of words and actions and at the end of the sentence had presented to the girl one of his handy Conformatist business cards.
"My name is Markus Burke, politician, businessman, veteran, strategist, you name it. I know this all seems like soliciting but, I am not fully at liberty to disclose my true intentions when not behind closed doors." Markus spoke once more as he handed the girl the card which glimmered in the sunlight almost as brightly as the golden doors.
Would there be a chance for new natural disasters in this Apocalyptic world? Things that have happened due to the nuclear fallout but everyone's gotten use to it and it is just a daily task to survive them. Like say acid rain from contaminated water in the atmosphere or fallout sandstorms that carry high amounts of radiation in the air from the radioactive material it picks up.
Relief finally rushed over Markus like a Tsunami across a small island, once the red light had changed. Now almost there he had heard the girl speak once more to him and ask if he would join her in confronting her father. "Sure, I'd enjoy meeting your father." Markus said wholesomely, as he pulled from his mind the appeal needed to sway the minds of others in his favor and prepared to meet her father as the destination soon was in Markus's sight. "What's your father like anyway?" Markus asked while closing in on her house.
As the doors buckled inward and reveal to Markus what he sought, but to his surprise, it was a moment of great awkwardness to him. This is odd, well remember what Sun Tzu would say, "Never underestimate your opponent." Markus thought as he took in the sight for one second. Her appearance was not what Markus had expected either, not to mention the girls odd question baffled him but he decided to play along in his own way to get his point across.
"I apologize if my appearance misinformed you of my true intentions, I am here to deal in other matters, but I do have something to offer. A pleasure to meet you Ms.?" He ignored the oddity of the sudden outburst the girl had displayed upon opening the door. The connections this girl might have with others could be great, and if Markus were to rub even a single person amongst the ranks of this organization the wrong way, he knew he would pay for it, one way or the other.
Markus's navigation led him to where he needed to be. In his sight to behold was the building called the Sanctuary. The doors glimmered as if Apollo had imbued them with his likeness. "So they are gold? Well that must have been one hell of a price to pay to an architect." Markus said as he glanced at the doors from the passenger side of his window. He made his way out with a black briefcase in hand and sunglasses on, as his feet took the necessary steps to approach the massive structure, he felt like a child who had just been enrolled in school and was set to meet others like him. It was apparent to Markus that he was going to meet mutants, but never had he in his life met others like him and so he let a little panic surface, not too much to be noticed, a small touch.
Now at the genesis of something he knew little about, Markus didn't know what to do. "Do I...knock? I mean this is gold who would want me to be knocking on it? Screw it." Panic showed it self now, but this little outburst would hasten his emotions. A gentle but stern amount of five careful knocks was then laid upon the golden doors.
Back outside of the Warehouse, Markus hopped in his Grand Prix and headed to the location he looked up just before going out. The place he would arrive at would render more help then what his devious Conformatists could. He had only heard about the area for which he was going to from Conformatist meetings or on the street. Perhaps these pro mutant activists would find it in their favor to help Markus with his little plan. Markus had been preparing to meet anyone of them, putting on the guise of appeal to ready himself for anything.
Another day had passed, and another crime was made. This time it had been done while Markus was playing dress up. Requested previously by Markus to a group of his most loyal Conformatists, he asked them to obtain a car that would be untraceable back to him. Well they stole one right from the streets of NYC. It was a Jeep, one with a canvas top. They had already taken the time to remove and replace the plates with legal ones and remove any personal items left within it. "They never fail to impress." Markus said as he stood inside the warehouse once more. They had even taken the time to move the crates to fit the Jeep into the storage facility. He also noticed that the Jeep even had it's keys with it. "Odd." He stated and would rather not think of the lengths they might have gone to, to obtain them.
Markus now encircled the Jeep like how a shark examines its prey before it pounces. He recognized the model of it, it was one of few that could still be converted into a true all terrain exploration vehicle. He then proceeded to remove the doors from the Jeep, as it was able to be done with ease. He also lowered the canvas top and removed that as well showing nothing but the bars that would support it. He then stepped back to see how it looked. "Distinguished enough from it's previous look, but I'll have them repaint it tomorrow."
"That's a good train of thought, money is the most useful resource in the world we live in today. As I said feel free to donate what you can to the cause, and don't be afraid to ask more questions if you ever get into contact with one of our representatives." The conversation kept Markus sane as he still wondered why the red light stuck around like Americans in the Alamo. He began to hinge on the thought of getting out and climbing the street light like an ape and personally punching the light out with his fist.
"We help those who have no where else to go, those who seek a purpose and hold the same ideology we do." Markus answered Celeste's question reciting a statement made multiple times to describe his party to others. "As for why we use the hammer, it's just a tool that is commonly associated with the working man." Markus knew that was true, he had looked into symbolism all too often.
The red light that now proved to be a great opposition to Markus took longer then the others and began to get on Markus's nerves, but to calm himself he just began to throw questions at Celeste. "So what reward did you have in mind to give to the Conformatist party anyway?" He asked in a somewhat bored tone.
"What should I call myself?" Markus said as his voice was distorted by the voice changer. He then remembered his old nickname from the military. "Hopefully, they won't put two and two together if I use that name." Markus spoke aloud thinking about the repercussions of using the name "The Tactician." "I am the Tactician." Markus said as the extremely distorted low tone rang out.
Markus also had to remember to keep his mentality concealed as to not reveal any loose ends to be picked up by those able to latch onto personalities. It had occurred to Markus that this would be rather easy, he didn't have to act differently, he already did that in everyday rallies and speeches, he just had to act himself. No more deception, only the true raw ego of Markus Burke, refined into the personification of the Tactician. "The charisma of Benito Mussolini, the appeal of Alexander the Great, the caution of Joseph Stalin, and the cunning mind of Julius Caesar. I hold these strengths from them and with these I will prevail and crush all who oppose my strategic might, for I am the Tactician!" Markus exclaimed in a great wave of held back intentions that had so longed to be revealed.
"Well that was oddly cliche, better hope the nobody heard me, well off to bed then." Markus had proven to himself that he could appear differently under the guise and so he removed his gas mask and the rest of the suit and headed off to bed. "Supplies, check. Plan, check. Disguise, check. Now all's I need is a untraceable car, and a little muscle." Markus said as he changed out of his clothing into a more comfortable clothes and slipped into his bed for the night.
The mirror that now stood parallel to Markus showed each and every distinct feature of the disguise Markus had finally pieced together. He moved around a bit and examined every angle of his suit as his jackboots he had put on clogged on the hard wood of his hallway quite loudly. The entirety of his physical self had been covered. The first layer of clothing was a pair of camouflaged pants and a muscle shirt simple enough. As well as the hockey pads under the pants and on his shoulders and forearms. Layered on that was the chest piece of the hockey pads and the morph mask that covered his face well.
Then came the trench coat over all that, that had been washed to a nice jet black color. It covered the hockey pads on his arms and slimmed his appearance. Over that was the final layer, a black bulletproof vest with a tactical vest attached. In it was a combat knife sheathed on the right side, a Beretta 50 caliber pistol holstered on the left side of the vest, 3 clips of ammo in 3 separate pouches near the waist, and 2 smoke grenades hooked towards the center of the vest. The vest also held the small audio box to the voice changer in a middle pouch.
Finally, the gas mask that would serve as the crowning piece of the suit, fit perfectly with the atmosphere that was given off with the rest of the suit. It combined with the black morph mask made it seem as if the mask was empty. It had also been outfitted with the microphone from the voice changer and a radio headset.
Now the only thing left to cover was Markus's personality.
Sprawled out on Markus's coffee table laid, a large assortment of miscellaneous items. A voice changer, gas mask, shoulder, arms and leg pieces of hockey pads, a morph suit that now was missing it's shoulders and face piece, and a bullet proof vest with a tactical vest attached. Markus was stitching the missing piece of the morph suit to the chest piece of the hockey pads. The outer cloth of the hockey pad provided an area to sew the cloth of the morph suit on. Now finished with that, he placed it off to the side to figure out the rest of the puzzle.
"God this is going to look terrible, well at least no one will know who I am, hopefully." He took the scrap of the morph suit and threw it away and made his way back to the table. He picked up the voice changer that he had bought from the store on his way to the warehouse. It was separated into two pieces, a microphone that could be placed on someones ear like a headset, and a small square where the sound was distorted. Markus flipped a switch on the box and connected the headset and began to speak into the microphone.
"Hello." Markus stated, as his voice was suppressed with a deeper toned one from the box. "This will work perfectly!" Markus exclaimed as he turned off the box. The changer also fit perfectly in a pouch on the tactical vest, which would work well for the set up he had in mind.
A quick stop at a few stores along the way back to the warehouse and Markus now had everything he needed. Once parked across the street from the warehouse, Markus looked around to make sure there was no unwanted people around. The small road that led to the entrance of the warehouse was desolate, all except for Markus's car. Markus made his way to the large sliding door and unlocked the padlock keeping it closed. The once empty area now was filled with hundreds of unmarked crates.
Markus flipped a switch on the wall to the left of the entrance which turned on the large overhead lights. Upon the retreat of the dark, it was revealed to Markus a black bag had been placed on one of these crates. Everything he came for was already placed inside it, and the loyalty of his men was most assured.
Now outside once more, Markus rushed to lock up after attainment of the items he needed. He shut off the lights and slammed the sliding door in a quick and swift movement. Homeward bound with his supplies, Markus jumped within his car and headed off to finally assemble a new persona.
Lounging in his loft, now bored of the information he had gone over some dozen times, Markus made his way to his closet to hang up his suit coat. Upon opening it he saw a black trench coat. Barely noticeable in the dark, Markus fumbled his hands to grasp it from the back of the rack of hanging suits. He took it out. It was fitted with dust balls and lint, and still had the tags on it from it's purchase. He never wore it due to it's close apparel likeness to a more renowned politician from Germany, but now it would prove useful. "I remember getting this for Christmas about 4 years back, stupid secret Santa."
It was obvious Markus was going to use this article of clothing, perfect amount of cover, and not seen being worn by Markus before hand. Now in the washing machine and the tags torn off it, the trench coat found a use. Markus now sipping coffee still 2:00 in the afternoon, ordered what he needed from the same men who helped load up the warehouse. A few radio headsets, some hockey pads, a pair of urban camouflaged pants, one pair of black gloves, a 2 cylinder gas mask and some jackboots. Everything else he needed was already in the warehouse, and soon his other supplies would be as well.
