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.
The reverse might be fun for the Order. Someone runs for office on a platform that Lori does not agree with, pledging to 'clean up the city'. We reenact scenes from The Godfather.
"Happy to help," Lenna replied. "As for the punches..." She laughed and shook her head. "I'm glad to see your enthusiasm, but I don't think sparring is on the agenda for today. At least, not that kind. No, the goal for today is much simpler. I want you to start learning the basics of self defense. ... Krav Maga, to be exact."
"Krav Maga is a style that aims to simplify fighting, by focusing on being reflexive, with few stances, training for efficient responses, and brutal counterattacks. The goal is efficiency. Strong, low-risk kicks, basic punching strikes, and various blocking techniques help round out the many elements in Krav Maga.It's taught to special forces all around the world," Lenna said. "Out of all the styles I've trained in, Krav Maga is my favorite. I'm sure you'll like it, too."
>>"... Give me the ‘Man With No Name’ series or ‘Hondo’ any day."
"Definitely," Lenna agreed. "There are too many classics, I guess. Impossible to improve upon them. High Noon, Shane, The Wild Bunch... honestly, they shouldn't even bother trying." She shook her head. Then, Lenna paused, glanced upwards, as if thinking about something, and commented "The last good modern Western I saw probably had to be... Unforgiven. Maybe the genre needs new takes like that... might be why there are fewer Westerns these days. It's like reinventing the wheel." Unforgiven had been good. It had broken a lot of classic Western myths. It'd even developed some ideas about how being a bounty hunter and killing for cash was low. That kind of hit close to home. Funny thought.
>>“Who knows, maybe Rhinestone Odyssey will be the surprise hit. So long as they put a lot of explosions in it.
"Who knows?" She shrugged. "It'd certainly be... different."
Hadn't he told her he hadn't liked his boss? Yeah. She vaguely recalled something along those lines. They'd been in agreement about not liking their bosses, she was fairly certain. At least, she kind of remembered... maybe.
Maybe, she'd been a little drunk...
Still! Whatever. She had her gut feeling, and he was full of crap. He turned to her and made excuses. That only further cemented her opinion. Yup. Worthless.
She'd let Isabel deal with him. Isabel, it seemed, was madder. She was just annoyed with Bacchus and his lies. Lenna said nothing. She merely looked at him, glaring. She let the displeased look speak volumes words simply could not.
Beautiful, huh? That smile stayed. Maybe he wasn't such a lost cause after all. Lenna threw that into the back of her mind as the two of them entered the party and had a look around.
Music lead to dancing. The Ranger led the way.
He explained a dance he thought she might not have known. It was funny. Nobody had done much explaining the last time, with the more complex dancing they'd done, yet this time, it was something simple, and he gave a very detailed explanation. It wasn't as if Lenna was unfamiliar with the two-step. Sometimes, they covered it in old movies. It wasn't too hard to pick it up. Still, she listened as he explained, and took everything to heart. If he was giving lessons, it would have been rude of her to ignore em. The last thing she wanted to do was be rude.
Nope, she'd be nice.
He took her hand, and she put her arms comfortably on his shoulders. "Ready," Lenna replied.
Lenna... didn't get the reference, so she wasn't mad at all. "Those are not our names," She said. There was no heat in her voice, only minor annoyance. He was playing games. She wanted answers.
Suddenly, he needed clarifications? Whatever. Lenna sighed, and shook her head at him, palming her forehead. It was a simple question.
He gave some kind of 'answer'. Apparently, it wasn't sufficient enough for Isabel. It wasn't very sufficient for Lenna, either. The bone mistress narrowed the scope of the question, focusing it down to a pin prick of light.
Lenna had the feeling Bacchus was giving out BS. She eyed him as he looked at her, almost expectantly. "I vaguely remember 'construction' being your job of choice last time, not 'bullet absorption.'" Though he certainly had not flinched when she'd starting fire her gun.
"We're handling it," Lenna answered Kaitlyn gently, pressing a finger to the girl's lips. "Shhh, you hurt your head. Don't wear yourself out."
Her eyes turned back towards that glassy wall, with a vengeance. There was fire in them. "Hurry up!"
Things were happening now. Fighting, launching, pain. They were happening fast, but not fast enough.
Then, things sped up. The wall came tumbling, tumbling down. Lenna glanced back at the others, and shouted 'Move it' in her best falsetto. She stepped over its icy remnants, away from the battle they did not have to fight.
"I saw," Lenna commented, nodding to the butt-planted Henrietta. "That's good, though. Falling is important. I can't tell you how many times knowing the right way to fall has saved my butt." Lenna smiled a small smile. There was a bit of fire in the glint in her eye.
Henrietta got back to her feet.
Lenna cleared her throat. "Now, if you'd come at me another way, the reaction would have been different. I'd been hoping you'd try a punch, so I could show you a take-down or a good counter. Fancy kicking maneuvers aren't always as much as they're cracked up to be. Sometimes," Lenna looked Henrietta in the eye. "Simple moves are much better."
"For instance, with those guys who were bothering you the first time I met you, if I hadn't wanted them giving me lip, I'd have just kicked them in-between the legs or in the shins and turned tail." Lenna said casually, shrugging her arms palm-up, as if it couldn't be helped. "The goal isn't always to win a fight decisively. The smart fighter lives to fight another day. It's the dumb ones that rush into combat without a plan."
Lenna glanced back at the screen, but the trailer had already ended. Hrm. "I had not noticed the Rhinestone," She commented, looking over her shoulder again. "I'll agree with you there. I am not okay with Rhinestone hats. Hats shouldn't be shiny... and shirts shouldn't have crazy tassles and lacy frills like some of those concert-style cowboy singers. I'd rather the cowboys in that movie be John Wayne grade, or maybe Clint Eastwood."
She fell silent for a second, sipping her soda, then decided to strike up yet another conversation. She didn't turn, but kept talking. "Whatever happened to classic cowboys, anyways. It is so rare today to find a good rugged Western man with his own code in a movie... unless it has way too many explosions, and a plot that doesn't make sense."
Lenna took that arm. She smiled at Michael. "You look dashing, by the way."
The two of them went through a doorway, down a short hall. Eventually, they came to the ballroom. It was massive, with sloping ceilings, jeweled chandeliers, balconies and upper levels. On the lowest level was the dance floor. Up above, plenty of room for casual conversations, tables for wine-drinking, refreshments, and the like. The dance floor was busy, but not too busy. People were arranged around it on the outer rings of the floor, like satellites attracted the to pull of the dance. One could tell the major players from the small fries by where they stood. The more important the person, the higher up they were on the level. The rich got to overlook the small. They sipped their expensive drinks away from the throng.
Lenna glanced upwards. "I don't see her," She commented. The woman they were looking for wasn't in any of the balconies, although some strange guards drew her eyes to the location like a target. Two hulking men stood, hands clasped behind their backs. Each wore an earwig and a dark suit, faintest hint of a white dress shirt underneath each expensive jacket. They had sharp haircuts, sharp being accurate both to describe the noteworthy expense of the fashion, and to note how pointed they were. If Elvis had had access to the gels and mousses of this day and age, a pencil sharpener, and a bad idea, he wouldn't have even come close to the pompadours these men were sporting. It was almost like each guard had a horn of hair.
Lenna looked away from the hair-horns. The hair was assaulting her sense of good taste. "Since she isn't out yet, why don't we dance a bit?" She suggested. "Kill time before the most important woman at the party arrives fashionably late."
Lenna had never played Tekken before. She was so used to fighting in real life, it was refreshing to see her losing a fight now and then. It ate through quarters, though.
By the time she'd decided she'd had enough, the line had died down to a trickle. She'd purchased her Cola and a box of chocolate-covered raisins, and made her way to the theater. She settled into her row, and watched the pre-show.
The movie trailers started.
Someone said something, and Lenna glanced at the person in the seat behind her one row. She arched an eyebrow at the man. "Problem with cowboys?" She asked.
It was sloppy, and very slow. Henri was a novice. As the leg came sweeping, she hopped over it, landing on the ground a moment later. Her right leg rose as she balanced, whipping up to stop inches from Henrietta's face. She wasn't trying to kick the girl, merely to prove a point. Hair was there to stop her, but in a real fight, Henrietta might not have that defense.
The vehicle Michael pointed out was massive. 'Fordasaurus' was a fitting nickname. A small 'mhm' escaped her lips. Yeah. That'd do that trick. If they wanted to haul two motorcycles, it'd work. If they wanted to crash through any very large gates or drive over enemies, it would also work. It was a working vehicle. That much was certain.
Lenna approached it and eyed the interior. It was nice. She climbed in and sat down. Very nice. And the sound of the engine? "This vehicle is excellent," Lenna agreed. "Now, help me get those motorbikes into the bed. We can take it back to my place. The party isn't until tomorrow."
They loaded the cycles up and left.
As for what they did with the rest of their day? When one wanted to waste time, hot coffee and a deck of playing cards did the trick. The next evening came quickly.
The Fordasaurus approached the party like every other fancy vehicle did. It drove up like it owned the place. Paparazzi snapped photos. People were impressed. They stepped out onto the red carpet. Michael reluctantly passed the keys onto an unprepared valet. The man looks at the keys, then the car, then at them. The worry was obvious on his face.
"Good luck," Lenna said. She waved her way into the party, no questions asked.
