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.
"Of course Mr. Abyss, people like us are held to a higher standard than others. I assure you, I can have at least two groups of "Lesserlings" to distract the main forces while we escape or fulfill our little plan." Markus spoke as he recollected on the word he had made up on the spot. That will not be found in a dictionary, but I like it! Gives a good feel to the upper hand Mutants have against humans. Markus then grinned and placed his fist under his neck softly and rested on it while still sitting.
"As they say, you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs." Markus spoke with a refined happy attitude in a retort to the Devil like mans concern.
These ignorant shut ins are going to burn for what ever they have done to her I swear, I will break ever single bone in their body, I will tear the skin from their bodies like bark from a tree in a thunder storm.... The hatred for these men now burned brighter than the sun within Markus's heart and mind. He now saw from behind the men who now called upon his wrath, his four men who flanked around previous to leaving. He raised his head up above for the moment to signal them to move in. "You got a soft spot for her boy?" One of them spoke as they raised a knife from their pocket heading to her neck.
Interrupted in his triumph of threats, Markus reached for his bulky Rhino Revolver and quicker than the man could raise the knife, aimed it for his head. "You touch her with that knife and I'll be sure to put so many holes in you, that you'll look like a red block of Swiss cheese." The men looked frightened and surprised by the sudden draw of a gun and backed away. They let Eurydice fall to the ground, as Markus ran to grab her only to be confronted by another man with an even better gun.
It was an unforeseen man who was apparently hiding within the gas station in case of such a problem. He carried with him an M16 and began to shout. "Get down!" Markus had nothing to do but to comply, and so he slowly took a knee. "Drop your gun!" Markus dropped his revolver and placed his hands behind his head as he began to hear a familiar noise. "What is that sound?" One of the men spoke as they reclaimed their lost footing from the drawing of Markus's gun.
Around the back of the station came a man pushing a shopping cart covered by a tarp that made it's metal clanging through out the duration of it being pushed until stopped in front of the stand off that took place. "Hello boys!" It was Eight, with an odd vest on and a smile on his face.
"What do you think you're doing?" Markus asked politely. The men just stared, only two of them were outside, until the others inside saw that the cavalry had arrived. Four more men of the same demographic as the original two made their way out. In hand a struggling and unyielding body in what appeared to be a blue body bag with chains around it. Whoever that was, was quite the fighter, not wanting to give in as the they wanted them too.
"We want food." They ignored Markus's question as he thinned his eyes from the holes in the mask. "And I want a mansion in the hills, with a pool and such, think we can make that sort of trade?" The men looked at each other for a moment, their backs hunched over like the degenerates the Legionaries and Markus made them out to be. Their faces now filled with anger towards Markus and his taunting they got serious. "We'll kill em we will!" They didn't know it, but Markus was slowly pushing them into place, a factor to fit in his plan.
"You think I care about that persons life?" In suit of that sentence, Markus followed it up with laughter. "You have no upper hand here, you might as well just start digging your own grave, cause once I'm done with you, there won't be enough toilets in the world to stop you from sh.. In that moment of relentlessness taunting from Markus, they had finally pulled the piece of the bag that covered the face of the hostage. It was Eurydice, and now the monster inside Markus had arisen.
The whole ordeal had apparently transpired while a patrolling Legionary was near a dried up gas station. That's where they were heading, and that's where they were hoping to end this quick little chase. Markus's weaponry was concealed beneath his black leather duster, he liked the element of surprise, it was a valuable factor to have in situations as such. Although Markus planned to make use of his tactical advantage as well, telling his men to spread out prior to meeting the opposing forces at the gas station. Half the men flanked around the gas station and looped back around to come up from behind them if anything went south.
All in one place now, Markus with his metal helmet on and 4 men behind him, stood at the threshold of an assortment of dirt covered camo wearing idiots. These men looked like they had just managed to scrape together four brain cells before they started this little escapade. Markus was an intelligent man, but he had long abandoned the idea to belittle others cause of intellect after the bombs went off. But everyone looking at these men could smell the stupidity that wreaked from them. The hostage however was no where in sight, until they gazed into the gas station itself.
Markus had made it his mission in life now to undo the wrong, and peel back the evil that had so entwined itself into the new system of things. That meant if anything were to happen to say, a hostage, he would ensure that the ones responsible would face the wrath of a man the likes of the world has never seen, and find themselves asking why their god or other ideology had forsaken them. So you could easily understand Markus's direct feelings as stormed out of the Town with 8 men behind him all ready to kill whatever stood in their way.
"Wheres Eight?" Markus asked, as the first looks he got from his men were ones of confusion until recollection of the man with no sanity filled their heads. "I think he was off doing something else with all that scrap he always has Caesar. But he should be coming along soon enough" Sounds like him... Markus thought as the Centurion replied, he had barely established a talking relationship with the man Eight, even after his miraculous return. Still that wasn't the main thing that bothered Markus at the moment.
On a day as such though, the opposition had something up their sleeve that Markus had no realization of, until confronted by them. Aforementioned, the atmosphere of the day had set the stage for something big that was to go down. Markus sat in his usual area, tending to his guns, by himself thought, this was not unusual, Eurydice wasn't always by his side, but it still gave the appropriate feeling to the situation. All was the calm before the storm in Markus's veins, he knew something was brewing, something that was wrong. He told his men to be extra careful on their patrols and normal duties for the day and to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.
Than it came, the message from one of his Legionaries. In from the dark and storm filled afternoon, came into his area, a man dressed in ragged pants and a few body guards on his chest. "Those dam Bandits have a Townie hostage Caesar!" Markus was usually called Caesar by a select few. Not because it commanded respect or retained any egotistical value to it. Just because the men thought it silly being called Legionaries and Centurions and not being able to call their leader something pertaining to the same matter.
"Double the patrols around the Town, and and ready the Centurion Garrison!" Markus shouted quickly as he pulled a handgun from the table that he was done reassembling and placed it tightly into a holster on his tactical vest.
The feeling of the wind blowing in his face while flying on the disc was not taken in strides by Markus, instead he was preparing for whatever task may lay ahead of him. To him the world weighed on his shoulders, not just his but the world of everyone who had taken up residence in the Town. He wished no harm upon them and sought to stomp out ruthlessness and the evil that may pervert or destroy any of the townsfolk. Markus could smell the tension in the air by now, they were closing on on something that may be bigger than he thought it to be, something that might be too big to handle, but what could stand in the way of a group of mutants like themselves?
With that thought in mind he began to list possible scenarios and people that could interlock with those scenarios. Possible raiders, reasons for attacking, etc, but the main thing that stayed with him, was the hope and determination, to keep any of these problems from reaching home to the Town, the less problems, the better. Markus could not bare to loose any more than he already had.
Although Markus had a change of heart and wanted to help teach others that didn't mean they were always open to learning. Most were ignorant shut ins from the wastes, people who had secluded their commonwealth to a select few. Markus saw that as an ideal that in this Apocalyptic society, is unacceptable, no longer did the idea of a capitalist society cloud his mind, if his political opponents could see him now, they would play the socialist card. But in these little cliches of bandits were probably the most ruthless criminals and most degenerate people one could imagine. Markus had dealt with war time situations but never really confronted people like them, he was always above them in his mind.
He thought his mind too high of a caliber to be wasted on their type. Soon though, Markus would have to conform to their ways to get what he needed out of them. They had a reputation with being a bit of an annoyance to the Town and all who sought protection from the Coalition. A little tension here and there, but all resolved sooner or later in the confrontation between Markus's men and this group of Raiders. They would attack if they knew they had the upper hand, but they were fearful and Markus could smell it like a homemade meal. So he let their anger, fear and other emotions grow into what would become the situation he would come to face.
Before the event, Markus was a man whose desires were more comparable to a megalomaniac than any others. He had a dream to carve his image into the world and be remembered along side histories greatest tactical leaders and minds. Sadly though, there isn't much to remember from a pile of ash and the looming smell of the world rotting at everyone's feet. Yes, Markus was a man with a dream that had been smashed right in front of him, in the end he saved himself, but soon after his life was ensured to him, he began to coup with the loss of any possibility of being remembered by all.
He contemplated suicide, but only found that he was a coward, a man who has no true bravery or courage to him at all, only fear of being forgotten by all and not even able to muster the power to kill himself. So he turned to try and teach a generation that would be neglected of knowledge soon. He realized that all forms of education would prove hard to scavenge, as most of it easy to obtain without electronic devices would have either been trapped under rubble or burn't to a crisp, so he decided to share his knowledge of history with all who desired it. He didn't want to harm anyone or anything any longer to get what he wanted. He just wanted to protect what of mankind was left.
But all in all, nothing was out of the norm, anything that would be destructive towards the fabric of reality didn't exist, no, it was only a mutual feeling felt by all in the Town, but still the way it lurched into the minds of all in such a slow but completely noticeable manner felt as if it were going to rip their world apart once more, this time in a way not pertaining to the material world, but a mental state, of course this was just an everyday feeling, perhaps only amplified by the accompanied post Apocalyptic feeling.
To Markus and his fellow soldiers, it was a normal day, everyday that gave them more time to live was something they cherished, something they all took for granted when all was still governed by man on a more global scale, and machines and electricity were common, but not any more. The world had shut itself away from one another for far too long and when the time came for fear to reign on a a large scale throughout mass medias around the world, all took it as a sign that they were being threatened by something or someone else.
They did what any government run by protective patriotic fools would do and retaliate blindly at what ever they could, and so that is what brought them all here, a little misunderstanding, and you get a town of refugees, soldiers who think their in old Rome and a man with a ego that's been straightened out.
Now everything died out, like a match lit only for awhile. A few weeks past, the group was up to 30 members, not including Markus or any other mutants that are actually in the Coalition. It was a bit of a dull day, the sky was dampened by dark clouds which drew a curtain over most of the light. The humidity added to it all, the feeling of being pulled underwater and being helpless to the situation.
Soon, though a new atmospheric feeling filled the air with something for all who found boredom to look forward too. It was the feeling of electricity in the air, as though a storm was in the air, not to be ruled out, the dark clouds assured that there would be one definitely, but this was something of a more tense matter. In the clouds people could already see lightning being produced and racing through the clouds, off in the distance they could hear the thunder as well, it was loud, but too far away to harm anyone in Town. Although that being, some felt fear of a form of harm being conceived in the dark clouds themselves, something insidiously rotten, something wrong, something misplaced in this world.
Now that the new batch of Legionaries and a bit of an oddity had been added to the ranks, Markus to instill the ideals of the Coalition into the minds of the men. "I'm sure some of you know the tale of Alexander the Great, not all of it, but this is the best time to tell you all the full story about him, and why later." Markus stood in front of the new men once more, same as when they started their training. Eurydice stood off to his right side and Eight hunched over to his left, whilst all the Centurions stood in a line behind them.
"Alexander The Great, of Macedonia, stood for the purpose to protect all peoples and unite them, and now that is our purpose to carry on. To show that people are still civilized even after this global catastrophe, to make a unified protectorate for the weak and when a threat may be shown." Markus paused to look over the faces of the Nine men who stood in rows of threes. "His last words, before he died, were "To the Strongest." and by those words we will live, to all who may oppose the right that we seek, we shall face them with those words, to let them know that we were given this world for we are the Strong." Markus then drew his combat knife from his tactical vest and raised it into the air.
"To the Strongest!" He shouted, as the Legionaries looked in a some what confused way. Followed by Markus's shout was Eurydice and the Centurions in unison. "To the Strongest!" It suddenly clicked with them all one by one. "To the Strongest!" over and over from one Legionary to the next, even Eight chimed in. Until finally, one large unified shout of all who were present there, "To the Strongest!" which resounded with an echo throughout the Town and the Wastes.
It was the proverbial mother load, scavenged by Mr. one arm laying down. Markus began to make out in his mind that this guy was normal before the testing but after what ever blew his arm off, his brain probably lost as much as his body did. What else would drive someone to collect odds and ends that lay in this bag. A dozen road flares, a few damaged, a few gun shells, nails, wire, gunpowder jars, grenade casings, all just scrap apart but if assembled correctly could make a big bomb.
"What's your name?" Now showing a bit of a sterner tone, Markus asked the man more about himself. "Eight." The man said, obviously it could have been a mistake, he could just be repeating the count of the shrapnel. "Eight is my name." The man reassured, as if he knew that it could be a mistake himself. "Are you sure?" The retort was made quick by Markus in a new tone of denial. "As sure as the moon rises in the south."
"Crazy Eight", as bland as the name was and overused as well, it flooded through the ranks of the newly named Legionaries and the battle hardened Centurions. His insanity was his calling card, and his apparent knowledge of ballistics and love for sulfur. He helped advance the weapons that were being made constantly to provide for the Centurions, and continued to journey out to the wastes on a daily basis, bringing back scrap and junk sometimes, but always making it into some kind of piece to be fitted to an even deadlier bomb.
A hushed silence was in the room that Markus and two others now occupied. "One, two, three..." The insane man laid down on a padded cardboard sheet, counting the number of shrapnel that one of the Centurions had been kind enough to remove from his already sheered shut skin. "Why do you want to the Coalition?" Markus asked interrupting his counting, but the man kept counting until he reached the number 8, which was the last piece of shrapnel in his body. "I don't remember." He replied in a childish way, as if he knew but his attention was not all with him.
"Well, we can't have you in the defenses, but I like how you go "about things", so I am going to put you on a new job." Markus retorted with a little concern in his voice for the mans mind, but overall Markus didn't care. "I got everything in the bag for us, me and him." As out of context the sentence was Markus didn't mind, his insanity was something to just be taken without any concern, but what he was concerned about was what was in the bag.
The man who was void of any form of sanity was taken in and clothed properly and treated for his wounds, but it was the first time for a situation as such. Markus had never seen something like this in the event of gaining new men to his effort to make something of an army. The men either died in the wastes or came back barely alive. This man had done a little of both. His missing arm seemed to have been blown off by some ordinance of sorts, and that must not of been the only thing he lost out there.
Although his loss of a limb had left him unprepared for what Markus and the Coalition would need from him, Markus kept him. He valued the perseverance that was shown by this man who had gone to great lengths to join the Coalitions little army. Whether it was insanity or just his own goals, Markus enjoyed it either way.
