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.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 16, 2009 9:52:34 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
He nodded as the statements at hearing the name. And then there came the rest. Mutant. Just some little word. Quite unlike freak, so much alike sometimes. Just that thin line that seperated them. It hit him with some force. He should get used to getting blows by now, but his mind was all the same. He had done this to a mutant? As his brain was still processing the unforeseen news his body slumped onto the ground.
Mutant. A being akin to him. Kin almost. This presented to him a whole set of questions, most of which were possibly difficult to answer. Of course there was the question of his powers first. It often came up when two mutants met. It was always about what made then special, or supreme, depending on the viewpoint of the person to talk with. But more important to him was the question of how he used them, not what they were or how he viewed them. Those questions tended to answer themselves in due time. And he would not ask questions he did not need answers for.
Especially as people were quite revealing about themselves once one bothered to acquire the patience to read them. Patience and time. He grinned. He was sitting on the ground and wondering. Responsibility. Shin obviously liked that word. It had that certain ring of conviction coming with it. It was telling him a lot. His head snapped back upwards. How long had he been thinking?
“Speaking of knocking yourself down. Would you sit with me for a while?”
Green still in one hand he placed the other in his lap as he folded his legs under himself, waiting for the answer to a little question. First the little ones. They were always first. And after a moment of awaiting silence he would continue: (provided the boy was still there)
“There is a matter you might be able to assist me with. I would like to ask you to not disclose my gift to others. I find it very hard to not touch people, but seeing them shy away from my every move is much more troublesome over time. And if you will, please tell me about the places you talked about.”
Much more then you imagined in your wildest dreams possibly. And probably those do not even come close to my nightmares. Troublesome thoughts.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 15, 2009 9:57:12 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
As he was studying the features of his
-what should he call her.. That was an important question here. She was dangerous. She was dangerously helpful. Not for him really, but for herself. And she was still smiling at him quite friendly it was no easy decision he had to make right now. The name defines. Counterpart. He settled on Counterpart. Yes that would do nicely- Neutral. Distanced. Never too close. You don't get close to dangerous people. Unless they are too dangerous. Then getting close was always good. And as this was an unknown one, she was certainly very dangerous.
She grabbed the book. Grabbed his life so to speak. And he was able to keep himself from flinching. Barely. He bent it into some form of smile. A dry smile one might have called it, a friendly, distant smile. A sudden urge to shudder overcame him as he watched her hands place themselves on the black cover. A little bit un-twen. Broadening his smile he said:
“Hey its ok.”
Please don't notice. Please. As the subway held at the next station with screeching brakes he let his eyes wander over her figure a second time, deliberately pausing a certain spots a little too long. Maybe not too long to process consciously, but who knows what a woman might notice? An approving look it was he gave her. Or so he tried to do, while he asked himself how people could dress like this. Surely she did not have varices. Not at her age. The jeans must be cutting off the blood flow the way they were clinging to her legs. Not to speak of the other body parts. Not a very modest one this was. Thoughts were racing in his head as pieces fell into place one after the other. He was dissecting her mentally. Alien thoughts they were. He was a twenty year old boy. Nothing more.
“Hey the library. Sure.”
Blatant. Blunt. He was proud of those words and his smile changed to a more honest one, though the reason was entirely not present company. Not that he knew his present company. But he would surely try to make this easy on her and him.
“If you could just carry the book 'til there. See it as a price for bumping into me.”
He was teasing her. Just a little. As he was making a plan. With the next start of the train he managed to seemingly stumble a little into her direction. Just that little bit, that was not too much. She would know. He would know that she knew.
“I'm Martin. Nice to meetcha.”
The foreign accent was still coming through, but as his English was getting better every day it was much thinner then before. He hoped it would be enough. Lets dance little one. And please don't make it hard.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 15, 2009 3:20:42 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
He was absorbed in his work, but the first slapping sound snapped his concentration. His eyes were scanning his surroundings, noticing the revealingly dressed lady, but he was unable to avoid her stumbling into him. And so as he was still thinking about how very obscene youths had become these day, her elbow hit him hard in his stomach. And there was a second of
Darkness
There was light. He blinked furiously and checked quickly whether his skin was exposed anywhere, not even noticing that his book had hit the ground. While still seeing black spots in his vision, the most curious sensation overcame him. It was like being driven head on into a brick wall. Time, his curse and his bliss. The ever flowing, ever growing. It finally flowed. He could feel his skin tingle with the sensation, his very being sighed in relief as the weight of a mountain finally was released from his shoulders. The weight that always threatened to crush him was gone all of a sudden. He stumbled helplessly through the wagon, overcome by his senses he was unable to notice anything. To even think anything.
The return of the weight hit him even harder. His heart raced as he spun around, stemming the river yet again with his shoulders, his very being. And as he did, things slowed down to an acceptable pace.
What the he** had that been?
He saw the thugs leave the train and the young ladies satisfied grin. Did she even notice, what she had done to him? Probably not.
With a sigh he approached the woman, making thoroughly sure not to come too close. He really did not want that thing to happen again.
“Woah. Awesome.” I'm just a stupid 20 year old, nothing more he repeated in his mind. A twen totally rept by you young lady he thought. As if that would make his act better.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 15, 2009 2:34:14 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
The sheer amount of people in the Underground drove the sweat out on his forehead. He doubted, that he would have another ride anytime soon, but seeing that traffic was unavoidable here he knew that he would find himself in one of these enclosed spaces with greater numbers of people again. Again and freely so, for traveling around the city any other way was both too costly and too slow.
Wearing a completely black attire -complete with shirt and gloves of course- today; he was surprised to see, that those helped to create an empty space around him. A small free room, left only for him even though there wa sa great deal of shoving going on around him. He realized that he must be looking scary with his pale skin and the black cloth making it even paler -almost inhumanly pale, but certaintly unhealthy- and made a mental note. It would come in handy to be avoided like this. And it gave him the little edge he needed, so with a fluid movement he took a small book from his pocket.
As the stations raced by one after the other he was writing. The small black book filling with dates and names, appointments and personal anecdotes. He was writing down his life, not looking up. Completely absorbed in his work it seemed to others. To him the stations just went by one after the other without much time in between them. Nothing out of the ordinary.
It seemed as if he was developing a daily routine. He found that quite intriguing.
10:30
Meet with possible employer at his apartment [enter adress]
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 13, 2009 15:46:07 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
And so Im looking for an avatar as well as a signature for Martin. The challenge lies in the fact that I neither thought of a model while making him and am a complete legastenic with gimp and photoshop. So its completely up to your creativity what you make of him. I would truly be grateful for any creative solutions.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 13, 2009 15:27:05 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
His false smile did not cover his surprise at her openness and complete lack of discretion in that matter. Until he remembered that she could not see and dropped it into a plain expression. Mimics were out. He made a mumbling sound. Stupid him. He needed to concentrate more. So what did those sentences tell him? She was either stupid or knew the place well enough as to feel secure. But on the other hand with her looks things were obvious to say the least. She could not hide who she was. Nor did she seem to want to. He was not really able to think straight right now.
“Thank you. I am grateful for your patience.”
He said. Just to make the silence that had been developing easier on his ears.
“And yes I mean that... difference. As you can probably tell from my accent I am not native and I was wondering how people like... you were treated here.”
The little pauses were all the hints he gave her. They lasted a little too long, were a little too silent to be unintentional. His heartbeat quickened too. People like him he wanted to say and if she had the ears for it, she would pick it up. They were always feared, but how were people like him treated on this side of the ocean for that reason? Why did he stumble across a mutant on the very first occasion anyways? He wanted to laugh and cry. So much for hiding who and what he was.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 13, 2009 14:46:49 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
Making his way through the station without looking twice he was finally close to reaching them. The streets. Here through the doors the people shoved their way. One bumping into the other, shoving. He freed his way of people roughly. Uncaring. Uncaring for what might happen, what might be done. Might was useless now. Might was a fact now. The weight resting on his shoulders. He was aware of it. Responsibility. A final effort before the sun was shining on his head again. The blue sky clear, unaffected from what had happened, clouds were lazily flowing over their heads. People dispersed themselves throughout the roads like a spill. He was part of the small arm of liquid movement that leaked its way into the green of the arboretum. It swallowed those small spill up whole and as they were. Suddenly he found himself walking beneath trees and small beds of flowers he turned around to his companion.
“My name is Martin Stein. I am a mutant. A freak of nature as you might call me, and quite justified that judgment would be. ”
His flat words were accompanied by a gesture of the hand that was supposed to be calming. He had heard that mutants were feared here much more than home and even though he had confirmed his status earlier it seemed fitting to introduce himself for what he was. His eyes were wandering along the paths to other small groups of people. None were too close. Or could they ever be too distant for the matter he was to unveil?
With a smirk he took off one of his gloves to reveal a latex one that had been hidden underneath only to cover his hand for a second time in brown.
“You see I take some precautions to prevent what happened with you but seeing what has happened in the station it seems to not be enough.”
He reached down into a bed of flowers to remove a bit of green that seemed not to belong there only to leave it in his hand. It sprouted from his glove like out of fresh earth. He had spared him the most important thing for last. The part he himself was feeling uneasy pronouncing, even in a place like this. A place he felt he needed more right now then his victim. The green was calming.
“As my touch sometimes affects the flow of time around objects or people. I am very sorry for your misadventure.”
For what I did to you I should have said. The grey eyes were fixed on a small flower. He crouched down down and took a deep nose full of its sweet scent and looked up at his companion from his ground hugging position. He did deserve the truth, but how well he would take this part would determine, whether he would get to know him better or would never see him again. He would get his payback for the damage. He truly would. But how depended entirely on him. The sweet scent did nothing good to dull his pain. What have I become? He asked himself yet another time.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 8, 2009 8:57:36 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
The Woman actually spoke to him. He was not aware of the fact that cat-people could speak, but that would make things much easier. It it were not for his head, which still aimed at making things much more complicated. Right now the head seemed to be on the winning side of the little battle. So he more or less stumbled towards her and fell in a seat, letting out a sigh, which sounded a little like letting air out a balloon. A blink later (for him anyways) the waiter presented him with a water and a cautious look. After taking a few sips what had been a sickly color of his skin started to turn more and more normal. Still unhealthy,but at least there were no more red spots on his cheeks. Red spots were not good as they indicated overexertion. Not that the person on his side would notice. But surely she would hear the ease in his breathing and the less anxious sound of his voice. So as he straightened he stared thinking about what to say.
“Good evening Madam. Thank you for your offer.”
Somehow the boy had withdrawn himself from his sight, but that did not mean, that he was not around any more. He had to be careful then with what to say and what not.
“I see you are belonging to a special society...:”
He started and then broke off. He did not know how to phrase this.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 8, 2009 8:31:47 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
As he had so unexpectedly soon come to rest on the cold floor he did not stir even though his ears told him, that everything was over. But was everything alright? As his body started sending him messages again he felt a certain warmth on his lips as he went through the steps of mentally checking every limb for damage. A quick swipe with the tongue revealed the metallic taste.
He was relieved. As long as only his nose was bleeding he would find that an acceptable price.
>>“Huh? What just happened…” <<
Even after all those years he could not answer that question properly. Completely distancing himself from his surroundings he found, that this situation reminded him of the accidents he had had in the first time while still coming to terms with his power. How did that happen anyways? Focus Martin. You're not 20 any more. It was just an accident. Just something, happening by chance.
One of his reasons to hate taking chances. One would always find the worst happening after some time.
The tapping on his shoulder finally yanked him from his thoughts quite ungracefully, as he took a deep breath of his own sand and started coughing. My that sand burned in the lungs. They felt as though someone had glued them shut. Another second or two went by,until he pushed himself up, nose still bloodied and slight abrasions on his face. He was barely standing, as the young one spilled his questions over him like a big bucket of cold water. The coughing stopped immedeately.
>>“Um… hey, are you alright man?”.... << “I believe nothing serious happened to me, but how are you feeling?”
The concern for his next started to show in his eyes as the full realization of what he had done hit him with a second blow. He he shifted position uncomfortably Why was he still feeling uncomfortable for a thing s natural to him? It seemed as this guilt would not stop coming quite yet. When he was touched by a hand in a sleeve he looked at it with saddened eyes.
“Yes and Yes.” He had done it. He had confirmed, what he was. He had trusted in that teenager. He owed him that, did he not? “Though it would be unwise to touch me at all.” He said, while brushing the hand gently off his shoulder with a brown gloved hand. Taking out a handkerchief with the same movement (not a paper one, but one of those real cloth ones with red stripes) he wiped the blood from his face with precise movements. At least part of it. It would be stained now, but that was besides the point. His movements seemed odd. Calm. Maybe a little Distant? “I believe my powers are nothing for discussion here. Please join me on a walk through the Arboretum.” For some reason that please was a mere whisper. Please. Softly spoken, still carrying the hard German intonation. Yet somehow he had drawn himself together enough to make it suitable to talk over the situation like over having British tea time.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 7, 2009 10:55:14 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
I would like to bring to your kind attention two plot ideas to which I would also be happy to supply intoductory texts for, but Id like some comments first, seeing that they may as well be unsuited.
Idea 1:
Theme: Choose Bad or Worse
The Idea was developed in a little Cbox talk and is quite rough, but its free for anyone to use or expand on, though if anyone shows interest I would try to help with the expansion:
Travling on a little far off road the protagonists approach a town that is caught in a mexican standoff between two (Or three if necessary 3) groups. One is being lead by a charismatic human, who has gathered around him a wide array of local population. His aim is not only to end the standoff, but also to rid the town of all he sees as freaks, namely mutants and the few intellectuals that still remain. He thinks they are ploting to destroy the area through selling most of the land they own to a multinational company dealing in waste disposal. Those few targeted and their supporters have organized themselves around a person named (Tempted to put Quetzalcoatl here), a known mutant, renouncing any knowledge of such a plan. As the registration act is fresh in their minds the mutants are very tempted to make a preemptive strike at the population before things get out of hand. As fighting breaks out in the streets the mutants will have to choose sides or stand by and watch as both sides spiral down into more and more violent behavior. (Aim: Would start off as a simple stay in town and then being dragged into choosing sides and then either getting messy, or.. well it would probably get messy)
Lucky for you some characters have just won a vacacion in a tombola... guess where it goes?
Idea 2 is even rougher as it is my own and
Theme: Meet an Alien in his natural surroundings.
Id like to invite you on a europe trip involving human rioting in Luxemburg, where Humans and Mutants have lived side by side in an uneasy peace for quite a while now, but as pressure is building under the surface the trip might be cut short by anti Mutant riots. Id like to invite some Mansion students to europe and see for themselves what humans are capable of.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 7, 2009 5:24:58 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
The lights of the City were now all around him, and he wondered, if they would be turned off ever, seeing that the once dark sky was illuminated by the millions of bulbs and tubes, through glass and plastic, making the supposedly black sky under rolling clouds become something of an illuminated display of mankinds greatest skills.
Nothing like beautiful and gentle lights, but here only harsh and mostly blinking color seemed to be fashionable right now. His teeth were clenching more and more, as the driver went on. Especially since the headache had not yet gone and the throbbing in his temples joined with the growling in his stomach to form a symphony that may very well have been written by Bach and directed by a competent conductor for all its precise tunes. And as if that was not enough the streets outside seemed not to change at all. For all he could tell, the Cab had not driven anywhere, yet the meter in the front already showed a greater sum. He told the driver to stop at the next corner and paid him grudgingly, flinching at some other sign, that was shining right before his eyes. It took a while for him to process the words he saw:
Dragon Inn
Those words meant food if he was not mistaken. And in those things he now could not be mistaken, as the smell that entered his nose already made his mouth water, a smile appearing on his face. The headache was forgotten. There was a restaurant here and he would hopefully get a meal there.
Within a second he was standing inside the Inn, finding himself greeted by a young teenager, who seemingly was responsible for the service here. As he was informed, that the rooms were not opened until an hour or so, he saw a cat lady sitting in the back of the room.
In a as seconds turned into an awkward silence, he forced out his powers yet another time for the day, as his world slowly stopped spinning in circles. He needed more time. So he got himself some, time was not a problem. He picked up the details slowly, as a sudden wave of tiredness washed over him. The white cane, the slightly tilted head. She was a blind Cat-Woman sitting at the table of a Chinese restaurant, which was still closed. An oddity? Possibly. At home it would have been. His thoughts were racing in all directions, but seemed to be running in circle at the same time. He had to find out more about her. About his kind here. A searing pain in his temples was the price he had to pay right now for pushing himself yet another time of the day. Heavily resting himself on one table he finally took a hissing breath, rubbing his temples.
“Would you be so kind to get me a glass of water please? I am feeling unwell.”
He then asked, not even speculating on the fact, that it might make him leave the room, but only on the fact, that his head was feeling, as it was going to go critical soon enough.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 6, 2009 5:54:40 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
Socializing threads
The Black Book . I shall explain more of Martins background through entries in his Black Book. May also include comments on current events at one point or another.
Posted by Martin Stein on Apr 5, 2009 18:52:34 GMT -6
Alpha Mutant
760
0
Jul 2, 2013 5:22:49 GMT -6
The Asian was waiting for him. And quite kindly extended his hand. He took another step towards him smiling and therefore did not notice his dawning doom coming up right behind him in the form of an old man with a cane. With a cling of metal on metal the closing doors were opened again and the grey haired doom bringer with his aluminum cane of punishment stepped out quite slowly and deliberately. He was obviously quite frail build and the years had not been kind to his arthritic joints and osteoporotic back.
So it was a hunched old man who couldn't walk, but he was an obvious New Yorker and what is more: he had a cane. So there was only one possible solution for the little problem he had with not being able to go around the person in front of him, because he was blocking the door: “Give way young man, show some respect for my age.” He said to the now jumping twen while giving him a firm push with his elongated right arm, sending him stumbling right into the outstretched arm of his kind aid, whose hand seemed quite unintentionally be not only used for a greeting, but now would hopefully at least take some energy off his rapid descent. A descent that inadvertently exposed some of his bare arm.
He could see the ground coming closer as all movement slowed down, the many voices dwindling to a low drone. As his vision was almost completely filled with black pavement
– He could already imagine the discomfort it would cause him to do his little meet and greet with it head on-
An arm appeared, a rescuing arm coming ever closer to his own. As he realized that his very own unhealthy looking white skin would come in contact with the other, darker skin, tears started to well up. He could not do this to another person again. Maybe the fall would end the link quickly, quite possibly so, but the damage he might do to him. Another pair of darkened eyes. Images started to flash before his inner eye, images that came in pairs. Images that were black or green, blue or brown. More Eyes that showed the loss of cohesion of a mind exposed to things it cannot grasp. The lack of focus on anything but his own face and the falling sand.
Blink.
When the contact was made, it was only a fleeting touch, the most gentle of all skin to skin contact, but still his eyes turned into their unusual sandy appearance and time seemed to come to a squealing halt. People seemingly freezing in the middle of their business. A jumping small child on the station was even caught in midair, jumping at an older woman. Possibly her mother, he thought. And as always came the complete lack of sound. A silence, that seemed to be more then the absence of noise, but the very embodiment of emptyness. A void, which swallowed even the sound of hearts. As he studied the face of his victim after finishing his survey of the station, he decided, that it was a promising young man. He could see the friendly grin frozen into place, the open stance. Truthful. Honest. This person did not deserve, what was done to him right now. Done by him and his powers. Can you ever forgive me young one? He thought, as with another
Blink
And a surprisingly small “thud” he landed face ahead on the floor, rests of sand still falling from his cheeks. It had been short even by his terms. It had been only a blink. And the noise of the station was back again.
