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.
Max's leg was okay, good. The last thing Ranger wanted to do was injure someone while sparring. He then inquired about how Ranger had adapted to what Max hit him with. "My body reacts t' what it thinks I need. If I need strength I get stronger, if I need t' be faster, I get faster, if I need t' see in the dark I can do that too. There's a limit, but when y' can overhead press upwards of twenty-four thousand it might as well be limitless."
The Ranger took a more relaxed stance while the pair were talking. He breathed in deeply, his large mass required a lot of oxygen when it was in use.
Max then asked about if Ranger had a job anywhere.
"I own a private military company, Blackforest Tactical. We mostly do private security work." Not entirely true, while they did publicly do security work, they also handled covert operations for the United States government. "I actually just got back from a few years overseas workin'. Don't have any major contracts right now so not a lot of workin' right now." He was also currently living out of his business, he had come back so recently he hadn't found a place to live.
Posted by Ranger on May 1, 2017 17:59:22 GMT -6
Noel likes this
S.U.P.E.R.
S.U.P.E.R. Agent
Tan
Noel
1,780
381
Nov 23, 2024 16:43:35 GMT -6
Fuegogrande
Noel handled dealing with the bride via the radio, and called for a medic. That was a good idea, sure Ranger could have made his way to the Fordasaurus for what he needed. That would have likely left blood all throughout the house. Yes, good call for sure. She kneeled next to the Ranger and took stock of what she had on her. Then she explained that she erased Abe's memory.
"You erased his memory... That's a terrifyin' thought." The Ranger looked over at Abe "Sucks t' suck, Abe." No sense worrying about how this would affect him long term, the injury the Ranger currently suffered was a result of this man's actions.
The medic arrived. And was less than helpful. Just wanted to throw a big bandage on it and get him to the hospital. "I'm not goin' to the hospital for this." He was still on the job. Even wounded he was still useful. After a brief back and forth the medic dropped a kit off and left.
That was fine. The Ranger could sutcher himself.
"I'll do that. Unless that's, like your thing."
The Ranger, already reaching into the bad and pulling out a needle, with his not bloody hand, looked at Noel for a moment. He then pushed to bad over to her. While he could do it himself, it was infinitely worse. And where was a bottle of whiskey when you need it. "Thank y'.
Moving his hand away from the wound he steeled himself for what was going to be an incredibly painful experience.
"There are nine 'r ten places here in New York that are Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu gyms exclusively. I'd recommend an MMA gym. They'll teach it an' other styles you should look into like Muay Thai an' Krav Maga." The Ranger rattled off a few names and addresses. "Risk askin' me? I'd be happy t' help, an' I'll keep the explosions to a minimum." He said the last art in jest. He honestly didn't have explosions going off everywhere he went, the city would be gone if that happened.
"Water break?" The Ranger asked before turning to head off the mat for a drink.They'd been at it a short while now, especially once they'd gone from sparring to BJJ instruction. It was time enough for some water.
Posted by Ranger on May 1, 2017 15:14:51 GMT -6
Noel likes this
S.U.P.E.R.
S.U.P.E.R. Agent
Tan
Noel
1,780
381
Nov 23, 2024 16:43:35 GMT -6
Fuegogrande
Abe gave a few moments of resistance, but there is not much you can do if a choke gets locked in. Once he was out the Ranger lowered the man down as Noel radioed that he was down and handled the restraint.
No longer having to hold up the momentarily unconscious Abe, the Ranger steadied himself. He was beginning to feel his fight with the ninjas really catch up with him. He brought his hand to his injured side, then took the hand away to look at it. Solid red.
"Ninja?"
"All dead. Bride?"
"You're not gonna fall over, are you?" As Noel asked this the Ranger put his hands on either side of the cut on his shirt and ripped it open. Before he answered he felt around the slash in his side with his hand. Deeper than he thought, but not life threatening or debilitating. Moving as much and as fast as he did since being wounded didn't help matters any either.
"No, I'm good f'r now. Y' wouldn' happen to have a med kit with sutchers with y'? This needs stiches." He planted his hand onto the wound to control the bleeding. If he had sutchers with him he could sew himself up, every SF operator could do at least that much.
"On second thought... I'm gunna sit." The Ranger, less than gracefully, lowed into a sitting position on the ground.He then keyed up his mic, "Status on the groom?"
"He's safe, we locked him down inside." Came the reply.
Ambrosia had no objections to margaritas. Perfect! With her now tore up clothes, Rianne wasn't up for going anywhere like a club or her favorite bars, but kicking it with the working class folk in a hole in the wall was right up the speed of her newly conditioned attire.
"I can meet you wherever tomorrow while I'm on shift. It shouldn't take long. Their sentences will likely be pretty light, I stopped them while it was only attempted. Felony assault requires physical injury." Rianne smiled before continuing, "But I don't think they'll be so willing to jump a mutant in this neighborhood in the future after the pounding they just took. I'm actually a little worried about the first one I hit. He'll need an MRI. The second one might as well, but his would just be for a slipped disk."
They arrived at El Charrito and the sounds of Mexican music poured over them as they walked inside. The owner was second generation American, her parent's having been naturalized here thirty years back and passed the business to her after they retired last year.
Rianne sat down at the bar and in Spanish ordered a prickly pear margarita, frozen with no salt. She then said she would cover the woman with her before turning to Ambrosia and switching back to English asked, "Know what you want?" She then helpfully slid a drink menu to her drinking partner. Aside from the usual list of cervezas, there was an exhaustive list of margaritas. Prickly pear, strawberry, big red, margaritas with beers upturned in them, and so on.
The Ranger had caught Max's leg and was pulling him to his new ground with him. During the upward fall Max kicked at the Ranger's arm in an attempt to free himself. This hurt, not as much as it would have if his muscles hadn't swelled up to look like gorilla arms. It provided a significant amount of padding in addition to strength.
Then something weird happened. Max went from barely resisting the fall to feeling like the Ranger was holding onto a small rocket the was trying to keep him in the air. While it didn't stop his fall to the roof it would hopefully mitigate some of the impact.
As the pair impacted Max made another attempt at freedom, the Ranger released him as he landed in a roll like he'd just touched down after parachuting. Breaking the kid's leg was not something he wanted to do while sparring. Michael came out of the roll on his feet. Whole disoriented by his new view of the world. To him there were people up above fighting on a padded ceiling.
"This is certainly an experience." Michael began, "Y're leg alright? Didn' expect to fall t' the ceilin' there."
His garage worked on Harley's, that explained why sourcing American parts would be on his to do list. While working on American muscle would need some, the sheer number of Harley's they'd be working on if they were a garage of choice for the Hell's Angels over there would necessitate it.
The Ranger chuckled briefly at Karrl's comment about people like the Ranger having their uses."People like me. Well, maybe those who can work on cars. There ain't many people really like me here here. And I don' mean jus' this city." He drank more of his beer.
"I own Blackforest Tactical, a small private military company." If Karrl expanded to the states, having a working relationship with a mechanic could prove useful. The Fordasaurus was a monster to maintain by himself. Though, such is life when you take a Ford F650 and convert it into a mobile staging platform for tactical operations.
"You have nothing to apologize for, you didn't cause this. And that was without a doubt true. There were times where your own actions led to you being victimized, but those all involved you being a knucklehead and creating the situation, often this was because the victim was involved in criminality themselves. In this case Ambrosia was just going about life and was targeted.
Did Rianne have something in mind? "You tagging around won't ruin my night, as long as you are okay with margaritas. There is a little Mexican place a couple blocks away. They make this prickly pear margarita that is to die for! It is my own little taste of home." Rianne checked with the officers on the scene, they didn't need her or Amber anymore.
"I will need you to make a statement to put in the file on this, but we don't have to worry about that tonight." There were two schools of thought on witness statements. The first is to get the statement as soon as possible, before the witness can sleep on it. You get a less biased account, but you get an account with holes and where the witness is unsure of details. The second school of thought is to take a statement later. This way the victim can process through what happen and give a more complete account, but many gaps have been filed with incorrect information. They had to take witness statements, but witnesses are the least useful part in any police investigation due to inaccuracies in the statements even with truthful people.
Rianne went to lead Ambrosia to her favorite little hole in the wall margarita place.
Karrl was a mechanic by trade, and inherited his business. The Ranger knew how that was, his own parents' passing leaving him with an oil business he had since liquidated to fund his own business. The liquidation having been a good choice when he did it as the oil market had the bottom fall out shortly there after.
"Is it a general automotive shop or have yall specialized? If y'r sourcin' parts here you must do a fair amount of work on American cars I'd imagine." The Ranger drank some more of his beer. "I Learned enough about cars back home to keep my rides maintained. Though,, I've kept it simple. Old muscle car, trucks, and a motorcycle. Unless somethin' catastrophic happens I can cover most repair work on my own stuff." The Ranger chuckled before continuing, "Y' probably wish there were less people like me tha' can manage the simple stuff on their own rides out there."
Michael took a seat at the bar by Karrl and ordered a pair of Shiner Bocks. It wasn’t anything fancy, though it was definitely a rarity here in New York City as you could count the number of places with it on your hands. Such was the power of patronage… and good tipping.
”What kind of business do y’ have? Y’ mentioned a garage, is it automotive?”
Mac dropped off a pair of Shiners and the Ranger took one, pressed the cap into the underside of his forearm and twisted the cap off with a quick, practiced motion. ”Cheers.” Ranger said before taking a swig of it. He wasn’t into any drinking customs where one clinked glasses, cheers was just a thing people said before drinking a freshly opened beer.
Rianne could now hear the sirens approaching, officers from ESU would be here soon to pick up the three thugs. ”Some people are just dicks. They get their rocks off by picking on people weaker than them. It’s part of why I became a cop. Someone has to be there who is bigger than the scum to teach them they can’t get what they want out of those they view as weak.”
The woman’s name was Ambrosia, the food of the gods. ”Nice to meet you Ambrosia. And I could say I’m just doing my job, but I got off work a little over an hour ago.” She smiled.
A police SUV pulled up and an officer jumped out. Rianne greeted the officer and gestured to the three thugs. The officer pulled out a few of restraints riot officers use that look like zip ties and went to work on the three.
The officer threw two of the thugs in his SUV and when a second SUV pulled up the third was thrown in the back of it. ”Do you need a supplement?” Rianne asked one of the officers. The officer replied yes, but that it could wait until she was back on duty the paperwork on the incident would take a while anyway.
Rianne went back over to Ambrosia, ”Would you like to get something to drink? Put all this behind you.”
”Mac doesn’ really care much ‘bout apologies. I’ll let him know I clued y’ in. That’ll be good ‘nough for him. At leas’ for all the water they sell up here they aren’t pushin’ armadillo piss.” Lone Star beer, the self described ‘National Beer of Texas.’ Best known by its drinkers as armadillo piss. ”That’s one beer I don’ miss up here.”
Something told the Ranger that the kid wasn’t being completely honest about why he was here in the States. Not that it was the Ranger’s business, as long as he watched where he F-bombed. The Ranger may not be in Texas anymore but that doesn’t mean he won’t get in someone’s face over language in front of ladies. ”This City’s not a bad place t’ look f’r that. Heart of American business.”
The kid introduced himself as Karrl, ”Good t’ meet y’ Karrl. Let’s get y’ square with Mac” While Karrl was smoking the Ranger poked his head back inside the bar. ”Alright, Mac. I let the kid in on how it works here.”
The barkeep, Mac, looked up from the bar and nodded. The Ranger turned back to Karrl. ”Next round on me?”
”Wrong bar if you think someone is goin’ t’ ask y’ t’ jus’ back down. ‘Specially if y’re smaller than they are. Mos’ people ain’t fig’red out sometimes the smaller guy actually knows what they’re doin’.” The Ranger commented before asking, ”What brings y’ Stateside?”
The kid was decent at guessing accents, or maybe that was just how well known the various accents from Texas were in Britain. The kid pulled out a pack of smokes and lit one up. He then proceeded with some good advice if you ever wind up in prison or a third world country. ”No disagreement there, y’ have t’ put down the dog that bites. But, y’ normally take ‘em out back t’ shoot ‘em. Fight’s here happen enough an' as long as someone drags someone else out the door, it’s all good.”
The Ranger extended his hand, as much pride as he had in being a Texan he felt he should give the kid a name to call him, ”I’m Michael by the way.”
The Ranger could only handle the rush and faked sophistication of New York City for so long before he would find himself around people a little lower on the totem pole. Blue collar folk were blue collar were blue collar folk, the accent may change but the attitudes stayed the same. This meant he could get the closest to a trip back home in some of the smaller beer joints and dive bars. It was in no means a close substitute, but at least these people seemed more honest, even if they were likely a bunch of criminals.
This particular bar in Hell’s Kitchen was one Ranger had been to a couple times, and due to the nature of such places had helped the barkeep a few times by being an impromptu bouncer. This meant some of the patrons who would normally try to start something steered clear of him.
Sitting at the bar, a bottle of Shiner Bock which he’d convinced the owner to bring in, in his hand he got an almost front row view of some kid picking a fight with one of the regulars. The Ranger quickly downed his beer and stood up after he saw the man lift the kid off his feet. Though, before he could make his way over to intervene the kid had laid the man out.
Predictably, the barkeep threw the kid out. The Ranger turned back to his now empty bottle, dropped a few dollars down and grabbed his black Resistol. Money paid and hat retrieved he turned and followed the man out.
The guy the kid had handled was one of the bigger assholes in that bar, literally and figuratively, he hadn’t done something bad enough that the Ranger had felt he needed to handle it yet, but it would have been only a matter of time. It was also nice to hear someone else throwing out yank or yankee as a disparaging name.
Outside the bar Ranger slid on his sunglasses and spoke to the kid, ”Nice work in there. Fred had it comin’.” his Texas accent, ten-gallon hat, and ostrich boots immediately putting him out of place here in the middle of the city. ”Not exac’ly the best way t’ make sure you can keep comin’ t’ a bar, but t’ each their own I guess.”
"Constable Barbie?" Rianne asked, in no way amused by the name. Her lack of amusement made plain she carried on addressing the rest of what the man said. "I think you'll find I'm tougher than I look, but thank you anyway for the assist." She'd make him regret the name later. For now, fire throwing mutants trying to turn her and her squad car into a barbecue.
They had sixty seconds, that's all the man could hold whatever it was he was doing up. As much as Rianne was not happy about it, until he proved otherwise he had come to her aid and seemed to be there to lend his help.
Fire throwing man on one side, a smart-ass time stopper on the other. She turned her head to look at the incoming streak of white hot death. So he didn't stop time, just made it really slow.
"He throws fireballs and shrugged off my squad car. Any ideas there, butt-fairy?" Rianne said as she brought the shotgun back around to point at the the threat.
