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.
Mariusz made his way down the stairs in the direction of the main entrance. The only thing he was wearing was a simple pair of basketball shorts. For a longer flight carrying someone else he wanted to be as unencumbered by clothing as possible. His feathers were more than warm enough for him and the less he wore the less there would be for someone to get caught in during the flight. It was as much a safety issue to him as it was anything else. Of course, he still fully expected others to be clothed though. Not everyone came with feathers.
"Maya," he called out as he got to the bottom of the stairs and spotted the woman. "Are you ready to go? It will be easier to take off from the roof, though I can do it from the ground if that would make your more comfortable than jumping from a two-story building."
The Czech man could certainly understand how the prospect of leaping from a tall building might cause distress in others even if they really shouldn't worry about since he was the one with wings and knew it was perfectly safe. He could take off from the ground, but the added speed and already being in the air from jumping off the roof would make it easier.
"Yes, I am Mariusz Kasparek," he said, offering the woman a taloned hand to shake if she so desired. Just because the dark haired woman was the hired help in this store that was no reason to forgo basic good manners in introducing himself properly to her. This was especially true since her reaction to him had been one of the kinder reactions he had gotten so far today. He usually did his shopping in a three-piece suit to get better reactions from people, he had forgone that today opting for jeans and a t-shirt and the reactions he had gotten had been correspondingly worse as a result.
"I have been scouring the city looking for a specific type of apple native to Scandinavia. So far I have been unable to find them. I do not suppose this store would happen to carry Akero Apples," he asked, his gaze sweeping over the display of fruit as he asked his question. He was sure he'd be able to find them on his own, if the store had them, but it would be much easier and faster to simply ask. He'd been looking for the apples all day and his stomach was reminding him of that fact since he'd been doing a lot of flying on not a lot of food.
Mariusz twitched a bit at the shrillness of the crow's voice as it spoke. The voice was just a teensy bit grating on the nerves, but such was life when talking to a bird. The vocal inflections of the crow meant that it was likely that the mutant was either telepathically possessing the crow or else that they completely morphed into a crow as their mutant ability. If it were some other form of transformation or possession it stood to reason, to the Czech man's way of thinking, that the voice would not be so off from the norm.
"Watching the city dig out and rebuild in the wake of the riots," Mariusz said, shrugging his shoulders. "Seeing how people react after facing adversity tells us much more about who they are, and the nature of the city at large, than watching the uncontrolled chaos of the riots could. Once emotion has burned out what is left is the true heart of the city and its people."
First Sergeant Robert Evans yawned and stretched his arms over his head for a moment, his hands leaving the controls of his Predator drone for the briefest of moments. Not that being hands off for a second would be a problem for the multimillion dollar piece of military hardware whose control was at his fingertips. If the platform were that unstable it would never have been adopted for use in the first place. Blinking his brown eyes Evans returned to the task at hand of flying the combat drone, his attention focused on the monitors as he noted that the sun was almost set of course the sophisticated equipment on the drone meant that was not an issue. He yawned again and then suddenly leaned forward, peering more intently at the video monitor that showed him, essentially, everything that the drone saw.
Well, this was an interesting development indeed. One that brought the sergeant immediately to wakefulness. "Major, I think you might want to see this," Evans said, gesturing to his monitor as the Major came over peered over his shoulder.
"What have you got Sergeant," Major Schmidt asked, looking at what seemed to be several trucks in the middle of the highlands and several people apparently moving a body wrapped in a shroud.
"Looks like there's some kind of... well, some kind of funeral going on, sir," Evans said, tapping commands into his keyboard and causing the camera to zoom in on various people in the group. As each face was pulled up it was cross-referenced in a computer database and Evans watched as one name after another of high ranking enemy combatants scrolled across the screen. "Hold the phone, this is a who's who of enemy leadership... six of the top ten most wanted." As Evans was talking a U.N. observer wandered over and joined the group.
"What ordinance is your drone loaded with Sergeant," the Major asked. Before Evans could respond that the drone in his control was loaded out with AGM-176 Griffin air-to-ground munitions the U.N. observer interjected, stepping between the Major and Sergeant and jabbing a finger at the screen.
"You can't strike this target. Civilians are present, too high a probability of collateral damage," the observer said in a French-Canadian accent, his finger pointing out several forms on the screen that were obviously not combatants. "You use explosive ordinance on them and you will kill civilians."
Evans groaned, sat back in his chair, and flipped the U.N. observer the bird. This wasn't the first time that they had been prevented from hitting a juicy target by observers. Every time the observers stepped in the conflict was prolonged, especially in this case where so many members of the enemy leadership were present. Just then another voice spoke up.
"We have an asset in the region that can hit that target with no civilian casualties," a Norwegian Lieutenant Colonel said, moving to stand behind the little knot as his eyes examined the GPS location of the drone on the map. "He's within fifteen miles and can be on site in twenty minutes. Special Forces commando, mutant. He can get one target for sure, maybe more."
The U.N. observer considered the words of the Norwegian officer for a moment before nodding his head, slowly. "Very well, but can he shoot?"
"He's one of the best shots in the Norwegian Army, with a standard issue rifle he is the best," the Norwegian said and it was the truth, or so the scores indicated. No doubt the prowess was, in part, because of Vidar's enhanced vision not that it mattered at the moment.
"Alright, send him in but we reserve the right to scrub the mission." The Norwegian nodded and produced a phone from his pocket. Tapping in a few commands he had the phone patched into Vidar's radio's headset feed.
"Foresatte Engel, this is home base do you copy?"
Vidar sighed as the familiar voice came over his radio headset. He had just finished the last of the Skittles and was about to head for home when he'd been summoned. Always the worst timing. Reaching up he tapped the headset with a taloned finger. "Foresatte Engel, I copy, over."
"We've got a fire mission for you, transmitting the coordinates now," the Lieutenant Colonel's familiar voice said in Vidar's ear.
"Acknowledged, R.O.E.?"
"Civilians in the area and they must not be bodily harmed. Several high profile targets, pictures of each are being sent to you now. You are to eliminate as many of the targets as you safely can without harming the civilians."
"Acknowledged, Foresatte Engel is en route. ETA... fifteen minutes," Vidar said, when he had received the mission he had gone into a dive to gain speed and headed in the direction of the location, bringing his HK417 up into his hands as he moved. He had the rifle and sixty rounds of match grade ammunition, it would have to do. He knew he'd be able to get the first of the targets, after that he'd have to carefully pick his shots in the dying light.
Mariusz stared down at the phone number and information he had been given for the bodyguard. The female bodyguard whose contact information he had received from Tses. This option definitely wasn't his first choice. Not by a long shot. But, everyone he had asked said no. He was running a bit short on time and so he would have to bite the bullet and find someone to accompany him this way. The question now became whether or not to tell the woman what he was hiring her for, at least the real reason. He decided not to, otherwise she might think he was hiring an escort which definitely wasn't the case.
Sighing, Mariusz tapped the numbers into his cell phone and hit call before holding the phone up to his ear. He could hear the phone on the other end of the connection ringing. Why wouldn't this female bodyguard that Tses knew just answer the phone already so he could get this all over with?
"Very well, I quite understand," Mariusz said, rising from his place in the booth and offering a hand to Maya in case she wanted the hand to assist getting out of her seat. It was the polite thing to do, to his way of thinking. "I sense that our lunch has concluded, would you like for me to escort you back to your store," he asked, that was also the polite thing to do.
"Really," the avian mutant asked, arching an eyebrow at Paige. It had definitely sounded to him like Chloe had been about to say no before the blonde had piped up. Mariusz thought about it for a half second. So far the closest thing to a date he had for the evening, even a purely platonic date, was a female bodyguard that he had hired and not told about the pretend date component. Having two actual women agree to go with him, however things wound up going was far preferable. This was especially true since he had been unable to find the person he wanted to ask after the riots had ended.
"Sounds good," he said, continuing quickly before either of the women had a chance to change their minds about it. In the world of pretend platonic dates two willing women were infinitely better than a bodyguard that he hadn't told anything about it. This was especially true considering that the bodyguard probably had the requisite skill to break every bone in his body.
"Is there anything that either of you will need to shop for before the ball," he asked. If he had to do this he was going to do it right, besides that it would never do for the host's son to show up with people that weren't properly attired for the event. He figured that, at most, he'd arrive with his two dates, take each for a spin on the dance floor, and then leave them to their own devices while he mingled unless they wanted to tag along for the mingling with the various people that would be in attendance.
"I think I have a rather lucrative one time job offer for you to cater all of the alcohol needs for a rather large party that my father is throwing," Mariusz said, taking a sip from his drink. "I imagine it would net you several thousand dollars in profit. I think I recall telling you that my father is the Czech Ambassador to the United States." He paused for a moment to take another sip of beer.
"He is hosting a major Embassy event, a large party at the Waldorf Astoria here that will require renting both the Grand Ballroom and Starlight Lounge. I do not know exactly how many people will be there, other than probably somewhere in the neighborhood of a thousand plus. The event is also a masquerade ball, so you will need something suitable to wear but you can bill it to the Embassy. Are you interested," the feathered man asked over the top of his beer.
"Sounds like a plan. Scheduling a flight is easier for me and it will allow for a more extended trip since you will not have to turn around and get right back to work," Mariusz said, continuing to talk with Maya while she finished up her lunch. He sipped at what was left of his drink while Maya discussed, very briefly, her past personal issues.
"Oh no, I did not realize... I would not want you to do anything you would feel uncomfortable doing," Mariusz said quickly. "Besides that, there is no need to make a firm decision right this moment. The event is still a good ways out. If you change your mind you already have my card, so you know how to reach me. As for the flight would you prefer something during the day or at night? I am told that there are some days when the Mets baseball team shoots off fireworks after the game."
"I am uninjured," Mariusz replied, beating his wings slowly as he hovered in midair. Obviously this was no common crow since common crows couldn't speak therefore the only logical conclusion was that the crow was a mutant or, possibly being controlled by a mutant through some kind of telepathic link. Having satisfied himself that he knew, roughly, what he was dealing with the Czech man decided to drop the topic of thought for the time being.
"I assume you are not likely to be a common crow which means you are likely a mutant, as am I," Mariusz began. "What brings you out today? Watching all of the rebuilding going on?"
As he entered the room there was a scream, a shower of blankets, and a thud as whoever was in the room toppled off of their bed and onto the floor. He tossed his bow down onto the bed and crossed to where the person lay on the ground, thrashing with the blankets over their head. As far as he knew this room wasn't occupied, but he hadn't considered that there might be someone in the room right now because of the influx of people in the Mansion due to the riots.
"Calm down," he said, making a reassuring gesture with his hands before realizing that whoever it was on the floor wouldn't be able to see him. "Be patient and I will get you out of there," Mariusz said, he preferred to take off and go find the cat woman, but manners dictated that in the absence of an immediate threat he should stop to help the person in the room that he had frightened. He knelt down on the ground and reached for the blanket near what he imagined was the head of the person on the ground. Gently he peeled the blanket back until he revealed a face.
"What are you doing in this room," he asked, looking down at Evelyn's face. "Last I knew this room was not occupied. Just as well that I found you though, we have a situation."
Mariusz pushed open the door to a tiny produce shop tucked away in one of the many little corners of New York City that most tourists and new residents never found, or if they did find it then it was quite by accident. Still, he was looking for a few very specific items since he wanted to make German Apple Tarts and he had taken down the names of all kinds of produce shops specifically to check them for the ingredients he was after.
Stepping into the shot the avian mutant's eyes quickly adjusted to the darker lighting than what was outside. He wandered the shop quietly for a few minutes, there certainly were plenty of fresh fruit and vegetable choices and he made a mental note to make sure that he didn't forget the name of this place and where it was located since their variety was better than that of most of the other shops he had frequented today.
There were so many items, in fact, that he felt it might be fastest to simply ask his questions of one of the employees. Looking around he quickly spotted a woman that appeared to be restocking something, walking up behind the woman making no effort to be either terribly loud or terribly quiet he tapped the woman on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, could I borrow a moment of your time," he asked politely in a voice that had a slight English accent.
[Three and a half months after the events in Finish the Job.]
Having recovered enough from the wound that he suffered while on detached duty with the U.S. Army Vidar had been stationed, for the time being, at a forward operating base (FOB) near the city of Asadabad. It wasn't nearly the same as being stationed primarily out of Bagram which was a hustling and bustling metropolis of a base when compared to... well, honestly, when compared to just about any other military base in Afghanistan.
Still, the big Norwegian was finding that he was rather enjoying his current assignment, which mostly consisted of flying two or three aerial patrols of parts of the Nawa Pass which was the first major border crossing from Pakistan into Afghanistan, or vice versa, that one came to north of the more significant Khyber Pass. In general the duty was dull and boring. Even though he still carried his sidearms and the HK rifle with him the weapons were rarely used as Vidar's primary duty was to watch the pass for any smugglers or arms shipments that might be crossing from Pakistan into Afghanistan. Generally, he was not directed to engage such shipments, merely to track their progress.
In truth, if he were a normal human he probably still would have been laid up with the leg wound for another few weeks. But, thanks to his mutant abilities, Vidar didn't need his leg to be able to do what he was doing now and the leg was more than healthy enough to handle basic takeoffs and landings, as long as he didn't come in too hot and had a suitable place from which to launch. It was easy enough to be careful on the landings and a small cliff face near the base was more than sufficient for takeoffs.
At the moment he was winging well above the ground at height of about a mile and a half. At that height even a man as big as Vidar was practically invisible to the naked eye. Of course, at this height his pistols were completely useless and the rifle practically the same even for a marksman with Vidar's mutant given advantages. However, that wasn't a great concern to the Norwegian at the moment since he was merely to observe unless directed to engage through his radio.
The shadows were beginning to greatly lengthen far below on the ground as the evening wore on ever closer to the inevitable night, the world becoming less and less lit with each moment as the sun's golden rays gradually diminished. In just a few minutes Vidar would turn back for the FOB where he was being stationed for the time being with a very small contingent of Norwegian troops and a considerably larger contingent of Australian troops with only a few members from other ISAF forces being present.
In general the Vidar had found the Aussies to be a rather relaxed and accepting bunch, not all that different from the Norwegians when it came to accepting mutants which had made integrating into the FOB much easier and he had even found a few drinking buddies among the Aussies in his off time though no one drank very heavily.
As he wheeled in the sky, keeping his sharp gaze on the pass he fished in his pocket for something to snack on. It was easy to stay on station for hours on end in these mountain passes since it took very little energy to ride all the updrafts that were present. All the same, that didn't mean he didn't exert energy and need to refill the tank. With a taloned finger he snipped the top from a packet of Skittles he'd pulled from an MRE and dumped a few into his mouth. He always kept the candy from the MRE's and almost always discarded other parts, like the cheese spread. How the cheese spread was considered fit for consumption by anything, let alone a person, was beyond the Norwegian's ability to comprehend. He dumped a few more of the colored candies into his mouth and decided he would turn back for base when the candy was gone.
"No problem, are you quite alright," Mariusz asked, eying the crow a bit curiously for a moment. Of course there were so many odd things to see and funny mutations that people could have that finding a talking crow shouldn't really be all that odd of an occurrence, or so he reasoned. If he could look like a bird was it really so impossible to expect that someone could actually be a bird?
As he was speaking Mariusz brought his own flight more under control to keep from bulldozing the much smaller crow a second time. He hadn't really meant to run over the smaller bird, in the figurative sense but he was also much larger than the crow so it probably should have had the good sense to not get in the way in the first place. Still, it was also his responsibility as one of the largest things in the air that wasn't a flying machine to pay attention to where it was that he was going.
OOC: Sorry this is so short Liz, but he wouldn't exactly strike up conversation with a bird.
Having struck out in his attempt to convince Tses to accompany him to the Masquerade Ball Mariusz had taken back to the skies once again to resume his flight over the city. He watched below him as he flew as people moved about the city cleaning up the mess and putting their lives and businesses back in order. Slowly he floated on the currents of the wind drifting almost lazily over Central Park, continuing to observe the clean-up operations that were under way.
