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 Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
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.
The cross shattered! As Malachi bellowed, Lenna released the force grip on his neck, dropped her focus to the severed arm on the ground, then snapped it to her hand with telekinesis. She raised it up to her head and gave Niko a quick army salute. Then, she bubbled it with telekinesis again, and started running towards Agatha, one arm extended away and behind at her side. The severed arm was pulled along behind her, in a straight line from the fingertips of that arm.
In a perfect world, she would have closed all the fingers into a fist. She would have launched at Agatha like a rocket. She wasn’t a rail gun. She could not catapult the arm with dangerous force. It would simply be like chucking a severed body part at Agatha, as hard as she could chuck. But she could slap… that was a whole other cup of physics.
So, Lenna rushed until she was within range, hauled back the severed arm of Agatha’s champion, and SLAPPED her with it as hard as she was physically and psychically able. With telekinesis.
The woman was caught in a clothing bind. She struggled with her head, but not much. Still struggling? Lenna did it one more time.
> The woman got the arm! So that just happened. But as Lenna was torn between picking it up with her telekinesis to throw at the woman, or on striking him with a follow up so that he would go down, someone unknown to her shouted about having the angry godmother. > > Well. That decided it, then. Battle on multiple fronts. While one hand was extended towards Malachi, the other stretched out towards Agatha. Mentally, she pulled at the cross. It tugged away from the woman’s clothing, out in the open, exposed, pulled by nothing at all. > > “Whoever is open, go for it. I have the cross!” She shouted. > > Aura could handle Malachi, she hoped. Because her back was exposed.
Lenna Malachi was bleeding on his face from the thorns she had raked him with, and injured from Auras multiple lethal attacks. That did not seem to stop him from breaking from their combat and returning to his master’s side. Full of holes and bleeding, but acting as if he did not feel it.
“Not feeling pain is not always a strength.” Lenna noted, as she helped Aura to a standing position. “One can be critically injured and not aware of it. This can be very dangerous, yes? How are you doing, by the way.” She was not saying this without reason, aura, too, could fall victim to —
From across the entire school grounds, a voice bleated—
> “HUBRIS.”
Yes. Exactly that.
A voice came on her comms that said break the cross on the old woman’s neck. Lenna repeated that to Aura. “Break the cross. Break her focus. Also, break that man. Hold on—“
She turned, as a group of ten mystics clumped together approached them from behind. Lenna sheared her focus to an area that encompassed them all, and sent a wave of psychic force at them as powerful as a rushing tackle from a 300 lb linebacker. She staggered for a moment, as it bowled them over and left them hurting. Brushed a drop of blood from her nose, and tried to will the sudden pulsing headache gone.
Then, Lenna turned back to Aura. “Ready. I will choke him. You cut off his arm so that he bleeds out. He does not know to guard his weaknesses.”
As she rushed towards Malachi’s new position, she saw a woman with a sword. “Friend with a sword! Come help us! We are cutting off that mystic’s arm! I need it. For stuff.”
Yah.
As she got close, Lenna thrust her arm out and willed a bubble of telekinetic force into being around Malachi’s neck. It would be invisible to everyone, but orange to her. Inspired by her favorite film franchise of all time, Lenna began to apply crushing telekinetic force on the man’s neck and windpipe. As a side effect, it would momentarily hold him in place. Although if anyone else wanted to assist in holding someone in place near this Agatha mystic, they would not be out of place.
Lenna looked up from her attempt to rake Malachi’s face with rose thorns through telekinesis. “Who is the orange woman with the samurai sword?” She shouted. And beyond her, another mystic who looked stronger than the ones they had been fighting… oh, and the woman with the blade had put several on the ground behind them while she was focused on what she should be focusing on before. So, friend. Lenna returned her focus to helping Malachi get gutted by Aura.
> As Lenna spun to look in the direction of the screaming Bug woman, the wand she had stolen cracked in two against the side of its owner’s head. Then, another mystic made an announcement. > > Lenna watched her feet, as plant life spread from one mystic’s spell. A friend mystic, it seemed. They warned, at least. Yet another effect caused smoke to envelop the area bug girl was in. Then, Aura said something to her. > > “I just see you as a frieeeend,” Lenna called back. > > After her bad experiences with Ty (and maybe others), she really was not certain she wanted to be in any relationships. She hoped the needed announcement did not dishearten aura and get her killed. Aura immediately got hit by arrows of light, so— Lenna felt a bit bad about that. Bad luck. Timing sort of made her mad. The mystic aura was fighting took advantage of her being hit to pile on with attacks. Burning her. That was far too much. > > Lenna turned her attentions to a nearby wild rose bush, and with 16 bubbles of telekinesis, she tore the bits of the plant with thorns free. Then, she thrust out the thorny bits at the face of the mystic that was attacking Aura. Malachi, he was named. And as she did, she shouted “F** you!!” Usually, she had some trouble focusing her powers but presently, her focus was clear as day.
> Lenna popped on the comms. > > “Aura, your mic is on.” She said. > > A charging mystic got hit in the neck by a tranq dart. They had opted for speed, rather than defense. It had worked well for them, she had required more than one shot to make the hit. She had needed two. > > Her gun jingled as she stowed it away with the strap on her back, then she bent to pick up a stick. It was a rather large stick. She also had an extendable baton strapped to her side, but for the moment, the stick would do. Enemies were getting too close for comfort. > > Without words, Lenna left her obscured tree position and charged the nearest mystic. They found a timely trip hazard, an invisible Telekinetic bubble that caught one foot. As they tripped, Lenna swept down with the stick. It broke, but not before breaking the mystic. It was a rather large stick. Not lethal, but— with a movement of her hand and a thought, she sent the broken stick shards flying at the mystic just next to the first. Aimed at their eyes. As they recoiled, clutching at them to brush the splinters from their eyes, Lenna pulled the magic wand from their hand with a rapid tug of psychic energy, then beat them with it. > > Lenna had entered the fray.
> Lenna had planned on tossing that stun grenade at masses of mystics, as she hid out by the tree line. And damn it, but would not you see that massive approaching group there? She lowered her gun, and lobbed the stun grenade (with a little range boost from Telekinetic assist). It sailed into the ranks of the empowered mystics, to explode— to mooooooderate, if largely poor, effect. Some mystics had been given shields, some were simply tougher and more resilient with their constitutions. Some simply had not been close to the grenade. Of the large group, maybe 5 staggered. Two clutched their eyes, stunned. ‘Best I could have hoped for,’ Lenna thought. Then she went back to sniping at them with tranquilizer darts. In the six seconds of her action, she probably hit one mystic with a sleep dart. Then, she slipped back into the shadows and moved to a new location to hide. Grenade, dart, movement, hide. Action, action, movement and bonus action (a tabletop nerd she knew might have said) and then Lenna was done. She had not downed anyone. A few, staggered or stunned. The darted mystic was acting sluggish, and their reactions would be dull.
> **Lenna** Something Aura said confused Lenna. “These mystics came to dance, my null friend.”
She wasn’t sure what that meant. She was not a null, whatever that was. She was mutant. Oh well, maybe it was some sort of slang Aura had, and not the woman briefly getting an alternate reality version of her confused with this reality’s very dead version! Regardless, Lenna stowed the gun and hopped from the tree, lowering herself with telekinesis.
She threw a bubble of telekinesis around the foot of one mystic aura was fighting, so in a crucial moment he would meet minor resistance, be slower than usual, and trip himself up so she could defeat him with even greater ease. Invisible help. Yay! Then, she heard lots of sounds and saw lights. Something was happening by the front doors— and also by the gates. Sprinklers turned on, a wall of water, a guy in gold, someone was hexed on the comms, everything suddenly was going very fast in a short amount of time and two Humvees were being manhandled by a Man who shouted about being a god.
Lenna sighed and repositioned in her camouflaged spot. Then, she proceeded to continue with tranq dart cover fire. At one point, she tossed a stun grenade into a large clump of mystics assaulting the front doors.
”I do not believe I ever was in preschool,” Lenna noted agreeably. What age was it children were sent to PRE school? Maybe she simply had forgotten. So much is pushed aside when you learn all the wrong things instead of math, history, and science.
She looked around for cleaning supplies, but a sudden voice caused Lenna to turn and lose focus on that.
Wow, this woman had many orange tentacles and orange eyes and orange everything and—
Lenna slowed her stride, no. The woman was not an orange spider woman, or an orange octopus. This was her power being difficult and targeting all things once more. If she focused, she would surely see true colorations. It was just that she did not care enough to do that one thing. And it was not as if anyone else would ever be able to see her telekinesis bathing the world in orange as it targeted all the things ineffectually. This was simply… something she had to deal with that others would find insane if spoken about. Yes. What phrase had some kid tried to teach her? And what had it meant again? Ah yes. It was simply her cross to bear… because it often made her cross. Like two bears. Crossing two bears, that was the phrase.
She was crossing two bears.
What.
People often make very little sense. She would have to tell off the person who had tried to teach her that phrase another day. It was foolish.
But anyways. Ms. Durchdenwald: that was the teachers name. She sometimes took her class, when it suited her. But clearly, she did not pay the appropriate amount of attention, if it seemed as if she were meeting a mansion teacher for the very first time.
She picked up a shattered piece of desk and moved it to a corner. This revealed something that may have matched the descriptor. If only she could tell color from color.
Lenna held up a box. It was a box with a lock. ”Is this blue?” She made a frowning face.
He chased her. Bad. This was bad. Why could he not leave her alone?!
Her caught her hood. As she turned back towards him, it fell away.
>>”C’mon now, y’ cain’t jus’ hit an’ run.”
She was starting to dislike cowboys.
”Why not?” Lennna seethed behind the domino mask and black face grease paint. ”No one wants to talk to you. And every moment I do, is a moment I am not saving someone from a kidnapper. So let go.” Before she made him let go.
Was he not? She sighed. ”No. you would not, would you? You are the type to hold on for more information when someone is in danger, so you can help them. So I guess you can help me find a man named Stoneface before he hurts more people. Go ahead, let me go so we can go.”
She was bluffing. She did not want his help. Though it might be helpful…
> Lenna She watched over Aura’s progress as the woman went, summoning her Aura. A tall bald man pointed at her and grinned, and aura did not immediately engage him. She focused on saving a police man from a big cat. He fell with a sleep dart in his next a moment later. No backstabs for him while aura fought first the cat, then four mystics, some with blades. One with a summoned lion.
Lenna was unsure if the lion was flesh, or Magic. Flesh would be affected by the dart but magic would not. She fired at one of the four attacking aura, instead. One without a blade. It seemed that though he had pulled back, the police man had his gun trained on the other mystic, which left aura fighting two sword-using mystics. He had not abandoned his savior. as the cop shot one without a sword— gut shot, very painful. Lethal. Lenna sent a dart into the neck of the other… he lost his focus on the summoned lion and it fell to green ectoplasm, rapidly evaporating. That left two on aura.
Lenna turned her attentions to the skies. If she shot a mystic there, they would fall. A great enough fall would be lethal. She shot at one that was not too high up. It took three shots to get her. She flew blindly into a tree top with a crash of branches and leaves. She would be pained, but fine. It had not been a lethal drop.
“Reloading!” She said, and swapped to new ammunition. This would take seconds.
She was still in control of her mind. Usually, visual contact was needed to manipulate objects or people. It was required she see it… except in cases where intimate contact was established, such as having a knife behind your back. Or…
There really is not anything more intimate than a gun pressed against your head. The proximity to life, death, the level of control felt and exhibited by the Other. How the person at their mercy responds. Truths revealed, on all sides. How did Lenna react?
She breathed in, a little. Her lungs expanded, chest rose. And she focused.
“Kill her.” Goatee sighed a happy little sigh.
Her chest fell as she breathed out. And things happened rapidly.
Rifle put his finger on the trigger. Discipline ingrained in any competent soldier or daydream believer had kept the finger clear., until that point. It cost him. He tried to pull the trigger. An invisible bubble of telekinetic force placed between the trigger and where he was pulling kept it from moving in the way that he wished. Lenna knew this gun, had used one many times, and had studied his firearm prior to this attempt. She knew how it felt pressed against her, and understood its dimensions. Including length. She knew where the gun was, intimately. She had placed the bubble in the exact right spot.
Before he could react by exerting more force, a second bubble appeared around the first. She was in goatees control and could not move her body. But she could fling the rifle back up into the gun-mans face with her mind.
Rifle reeled back as the rifle connected, and a moment later, Lenna mentally willed the rifle forward into her sight line. The gunner followed this course, pulled along behind in the rifle’s wake by a strap. He was big, but she was tugging with 250-290 lbs of lifting strength. She could have physically pulled a reeling opponent bodily, using weight and leverage to assist. She could PSYCHICALLY do so, as well. The bubble protecting the trigger maintained its previous strength. He was still squeezing, the last command given. She was dividing between two things. As they moved into her vision, she saw them as orange spheres.
The rest of the room was in full living color. Goatee had a purple newsboy cap. Some boy had tried to get her to play a fighting game. “Ultra fight Siblings,” or something like that. He reminded her of some item the boy had utilized, which summoned a weird looking man with a tennis racket. She had been told his hat was purple, when she had asked. He had seemed greasy, much like the boy in question vaguely hoping to win her attentions. What had his name been again? It came to her as she released the first bubble on the gun she had just aimed, and rifle-man shot Waluigi in the knee.
Lenna had weighed the price of this against the costs, if the man were allowed to hurt people. A shot to the knee is immediate incapacitation. The threat of death was actually quite low. The damage would be done in a location with no vitals, though bone shards or the power of the rifle itself could potentially cause damage. A ruptured femoral artery, maybe. The true danger was blood loss. She had aimed for a “through shot”, piercing the knee from several feet away. Far closer than one usually gets.
The recovery time of a full knee cap replacement with bolts and titanium plates would likely take a full 12 months, and after that he would be inhibited his entire life. Which meant he would be less likely to hurt people in hostage situations again. As opposed to him hurting everyone present, presently. She had weighed the things. There were police outside, and medical personnel standing by. He would be fine.
He would be fine, she insisted. But he certainly would not be able to focus on controlling anyone in the next few minutes.
Lenna moved, released from the body bind. She quickly knocked the military wannabe down and hit him in the head with the ground, hard. Twice. Down, in seconds.
“Everyone please calmly walk outside. Tell the first police officer you see that a man has been shot critically by his friend in a disagreement. He needs immediate medical assistance. The second man has a concussion. Lover’s quarrel. I was never here.”
That had been said, then she had left. A minute or so later, Lenna slipped back through the crowd to Sam.
“Will that do?” Lenna clasped her hands behind her back.
There was one man, and a room full of people. The man had a heavy rifle. He was wearing a dark ski mask. He was tall, about 6’5”, maybe 6’7”. Muscular build. On his chest, he wore a dark Kevlar vest. Underneath that, he wore camouflage pattern military fatigues. All colors seemed differing shades of orange to her, but they were probably browns and blacks.
What was he there for? Money? Negotiating for something? Why would a man dressed like he was ready for war attempt to capture all these hostages, and put himself in a situation where he could definitely lose his life? What WAS the goal?
Wait.
He moved to one side, and she saw a second person sitting in a padded office chair behind him. The man had a goatee style of facial hair, a pointed mustache, and short, dark hair. Seated, Lenna could not ascertain his true height. He wore a dark newsboy style cap and dark slacks. A heavy overcoat. He moved one hand, casually twitching it like conducting a fake orchestra. The big paramilitary dressed man with the rifle twirled in a pirouette.
The rifle man was not in bodily control, he was under sway. Another hostage was crying as she joined him in the dance.
The goatee man spun in his chair, and hummed a few bars of a ballet Lenna did a quick headcount. 9 people, on the ground, legs crossed, unrestrained. One man with gun, one woman, dancing. The man in the chair. He was the boss.
Options. She rapidly went through options in her head.
Use power. Take gun. Goatee sees. Problems.
No good.
Use power. Raise heavy item. Drop heavy item. Man dies.
No good.
She ran through that last one twice more, changing the end. He saw. Problems. People controlled. Object missed, or failed to knock him out. Problems. People controlled.
Final run. If he was knocked out, it was possible that the gunner would turn on her and apply force. Could hurt people in the attempt. Thus, no good.
Last ditch effort: if she created a distraction to lure rifle out… no. Unpredictable. Too dangerous. Men who makes others dance to their whims are capricious. They need to have their ego manipulated so that they feel in control. She had to make him feel he had the upper hand, and let him lead himself down the oath of his own destruction. Lenna took a moment to study the rifle closely.
On her communications she said— she had no comm device. Her hand lowered from her ear. She carefully snuck away from the door, and spoke audibly to the ceiling. “Sam, if you are listening. I am doing something. Do not interfere. It is a risk.”
Lenna returned to the doorway, and arms raised, entered the room slowly.
“I am unarmed and come to you willingly,” she announced.
The dancing stopped. Goatee flicked a hand, and snapped. Rifle aimed at her and watched, like a bird of prey.
“Who are you?” The goatee asked slowly.
“A negotiator,” she said, accent thick. “Eliana.”
“Tiresome,” the man drawled. “Probably an X. But not him. And the timing had been going so well. Even a little bit early.” He sighed and he pouted. “Leave it to him to change things on the fly.”
“Him? Who?”
“Cold Steel,” Goatee mourned. “Oh well. It cannot be helped, then. I simply must send him a message. I won’t accept any substitutes. Now, approach…”
He gestured with a finger, and she approached. Willingly, but not of her own will. Her feet moved to the beat of his hand drumming his knee.
He gestured for rifle to get into position behind her. She felt the rifle press against the back of her head.
Before repairs come cleaning. Everybody knows this.
She had been there for the destruction. Fought against it. She had failed. Lenna had helped prevent the worst possible outcome. She had helped beat one of the annoying mystics. People had called it a supreme. Supremely annoying, more like. Yah.
Dressed in worn blue jeans and a tie-dye tee shirt that was predominantly orange, yellow, and blue, Lenna wandered into the wreckage of a destroyed classroom. There was someone there. She paused.
“Hello.” Her Colombian accent made the L sound funny. “Catchy song. I have never heard it before.”
The girl was clearly young, clearly a student who had been evacuated before the fall. Fight. Before the fight, she corrected herself. Mentally referring to something as a fall was beating one’s self up over something, it was silly. One can lose a fight. One can even lose a fight but win a war.
“Is there a second mop, or other cleaning suppliers? I can move things with my mind, if you need things moved…” She said quietly. Helpfully.
Lenna Lenna received a communication device from the slime girl with much thanks. Especially for the stun Grenades! She took two, and said she would give the spare to someone else if she saw them. Such a sweet jelly girl, sliding around. So cute. And such a vivid shade of… to Lenna, at least… orange. Like orange jello.
As an X-trainee or whatever, she would protect the mansion. She had a sleep dart rifle and was ready, hiding camouflaged by a tree on the grounds. Someone had even helped her be certain it was color coordinated to be camouflage, and not Skittles themed rainbows like the last time. Not like the last time…
She did not like mystics. Mystics hurt kids. And other things. Forget them.
As she settled in, she noticed— hey! Aura was by a tree not too far off. She made to wave, realized she was camouflaged, and went to be camouflaged by the woman. She approached.
“Hello,” she said. Held up the tranq gun. “I will be your overwatch with sleep darts. Yes? With us, they will not stand a chance. Okay, bye. Luck.” Turned to walk away, stopped, walked back and handed the woman a grenade. “Stun grenade. Be safe. May your gods be with you.”
Then, she went back to hiding in the trees. She climbed. There were no angry chittering squirrels in it either. Thanks miss… Liz? Clearly the rattatosk in this tree, along with all the birds in the sky, we’re needed elsewhere