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.
There were no further complications between when they scaled the wall and when they entered through the skylight. The rogue element had made their job easier so far, but ultimately it was bound to cause problems.
When they had lowered themselves into the room the Ranger quickly stepped out of Lenna's aura, his thermal vision returning. Sadly thermal vision didn't work in reality like it does in Hollywood, he couldn't see objects through the walls. He looked to Lenna who indicated the door to the North. He slung the rifle back across his back and drew his suppressed Sig P226 from his thigh holster and with his left hand drew his tomahawk. Close quarters combat is not the place for a rifle, and even though his side arm was suppressed the sound of the slide and the ejected brass could still be heard. A tomahawk gave him a weapon that depending on its use allowed him to drop anyone silently.
This was just getting to weird, not only had he had sex while being some woman, who happened to be Lenna's boss, but it had been his first time to have sex. And he cried? Michael let the conversation drop, it was just too awkward to draw out.
"Frying security cameras? Why... Is that a normal thing?" He looked back at the clothes that belong to his gorilla sized self, sifting around for a moment. He looked back when Lenna mentioned people thinking she was his mother. He cocked his head slightly and studied her. "I don' know. You look a little young t' be my mom." His own mom was fairly young, having had him while in college but Lenna looked younger still, somewhere in her later twenties but not her early thirties surly. Sure, he had heard about some women having kids when they were super young, but he had never actually seen that before.
He grabbed one of his adult aged shirts and held it. It would fit like one of those guys in Bryan who always wear shirts so large they look like dresses. The same guys that then wear their pants at their knees. Speaking of which, a pair of shorts would not be able to stay at his waist without a piece of rope. The belts all seemed to be much too big, having holes nowhere near where they were needed. Not to mention the fact he could nearly fit both feet in one of his boots. Which for the fun of it he tried to accomplish. "People may be a little more concerned with why I'm wearin' clothes that nowhere near fit than if your my mom. Or think your just a cheapskate mom or somethin' I guess."
The Ranger holstered his gun. This yelling from across the range was tedious and the least he could do was introduce himself, so he moved to insure he was behind everyone else who was at the firing line and headed to the cop.
The cop commented on his skills and asked if he was law enforcement or perhaps military. It would be ruse to not introduce himself, but due to his past with NYPD he would have to be cautious. He had reached an understanding with the officer that had been after him but he had no way of knowing how much she had stirred up. So a name and vagueness was the way to go. Enough to answer the question and convey he cannot say anymore. He shouldn't say much because it might click with this officer if he had spoken to officer Archer about a foiled kidnapping where the perp was killed by a man who then disappeared instead of remaining behind for questioning.
"Military. 75th Ranger regiment, then moved to C.A.G. fer a little while." He extended his hand, "I'm Michael." Despite having been a Delta Force operator, Delta Force officially known as Combat Applications Group(C.A.G), he was proud of his having been an Army Ranger
Disarming shots, with a pistol... Shooting to disarm a subject made sense if you were 100 yards back with a rifle and you had time to line up the shot and, since the target was so small, insure nothing was behind that you didn't want to destroy. Also, you have the element of surprise, the gunman doesn't know you're aiming at his hand. With a pistol you're right there where they can see what your doing. "I thought that was more a SWAT tactic, better used when you've time t' aim back behind the barricade of vehicles."
The Ranger had once shot at a target with the intent to disarm them. An anti-material round right through a rifle's action disabling it. His squad didn't do many snatch and grabs. "I'd always go fer the kill with a pistol. I'd rather not add t' the risk of gettin' killed." He gave a small smile and a slight laugh adding, "I guess that makes you the braver of us." Or the stupider, depending on if you live or die.
"How is that even..." He stopped himself, apparently he was actually an adult turned back into a kid so brain swapping with someone isn't too out of the realm of possibilities anymore. "So I was some chick... and we... that's just gross, really gross!" He didn't want to even think about that, being a woman and doing it with... himself, too freaky.
And clothes in the closet and drawers. He turned around when she said it was decent and looked for said closet and drawers. He held up the monstrous boxers as he made his way to the closet, looked around in it and then the drawers. Everything was too big for him, just a matter of the degree. The male clothes could fit nearly two of him and the smaller clothes were women's clothes and that wasn't happening. "Um... Am I some kind of gorilla or somethin'? These clothes are at least twice my size!"
For the first time that day the officer spoke up, checking to if he was clear to change out his targets. "Have at it." He called back before grabbing a few more sheets and following him out onto the dirt. The center of his targets having been removed they needed it. Though, given his level of skill he could just as easily measure his accuracy by the lack of additional damage to the paper from this point on.
He put the new targets on over the old targets and made his way back to reload. He felt his accuracy was good enough with his more expensive rounds, so it was back to the Sig. Loading all of his magazines. No snap caps, he would test his skill with Mozambique drills, one after another, quickly switching targets between drills.
His Sig loaded and two magazine in his magazine holster he stepped up to the firing line. The cop just put a pair of rounds into each target with impressive accuracy. Highly excellent work. "Nice shooting. The Ranger called out to him, "Only thing is you haven't insured they're dead yet."
The Ranger whipped his head back round as he drew his Sig, double tapping the chest of the first target before placing a third in between the eyes and then switching to the second target to repeat. "Gotta blow out the brain stem, a heartless man can still fight fer a few more seconds." As a member of his old team had said, 'Only head shots count.'
The Ranger let Lenna move ahead and take point, everything before them until the wall had been cleared so he would trail behind her and watch their 6 with his superior night vision. He moved toward the compound's wall every few steps spinning and scanning the jungle his rifle at a low ready. The goal was to avoid killing, but dropping one might mean not having to fight the rest.
When they reached the wall the Ranger retrieved his climbing gear. A black grappling hook coated in rubber, to muffle the sound, with a long black nylon rope tied to it. The need for silence outweighed the need for safety there was nothing to help him should the hook dislodge while he was halfway up. He held the rope coiled in one hand and in his other held it just behind the grappling hook. He spun the hook round and round gathering speed as he spun it in a wider arc until finally with a muffled grunt he twisted his torso with the toss sending the hook up and over. A quick tug and it caught, he could now scale the wall.
So he lives in New York, but isn't a yankee, but why does he live in New York? Michael viewed New York as just some land of crazy people, why would he ever move there? And he has the power to lift heavy objects and run fast, which sounds really lame. Why couldn't he do cool things like shoot laser beams or blow things up. Though, it seems Lenna was even worse off, she just made it so other people couldn't do cool stuff.
"Twice? What happened before?" Michael kept looking at the wall, he had been cold since he woke up but it wasn't much of an issue while he had been panicking. Now that he had calmed down he was aware of it. "Are there any clothes of mine here somewhere? It's cold." As far as Michael was concerned he'd just gone to bed when it was almost 90 degrees outside and now it was closer to 60.
Michael said nothing, he just did as she said and turned around. This woman, Lenna was saying impossible things, nonsense even. Sure it neatly encompassed the situation better than anything he could come up with, but come on it was absolutely bizarre and still farfetched.
Eventually he worked through what she had said and commented, "I'm a mutant... an' a yankee now?" Being a mutant could be cool, but a yankee... this must be a nightmare.
After laying the two guns down in the case he picked up the Five-seveN and after switching holsters at his hip, and loading in a magazine, slid in in. It was odd using only a ten round magazine in the gun, the cartridges were so thin you could easily have eighteen or twenty and not have it stick out too far from the grip.
He carried the gun often, but do to the sheer cost of the ammunition he didn't intend to put to many rounds down range as long as he was accurate. So slid one spare magazine into a holster on his hip opposite his pistol and stepped up to shoot.
He drew the gun, sighted it and opened fire on the head of a target. The gun had about 60% of the kick of a 9mm and put a hole almost 2/3rds the size of a 9mm in the paper. The bark of the gun was also quieter than the guns he had used before, but the paper reacted more violently to the rounds. Not too much, but could be seen if you were looking for it. The rounds moved much quicker than any he had been firing before. The 5.7x28mm cartridges it fired were technically rifle rounds that are small enough to be used by this particular pistol. The size of the cartridges made the grip feel like a Desert Eagle, they were long and the double stack made it wide. Needless to say someone with small hands wouldn't be able to use it very easily.
The gun clicked empty, he let it this time, and he quickly reloaded, racked the slide to chamber a round and changed targets. Most rounds flying through the half inch holes already in the head in the target.When it clicked empty again he racked the slide so it wasn't locked back anymore and holstered it.
The Ranger then looked again at how everyone else was performing. The cop had once again skillfully engaged his target. Many of the other people there had not done so well. He turned to the man next to him who had just finished firing. His rounds were consistently low and irregular. "You're anticipatin' the recoil, don't do that. Keep your arms stiff, the gun'll come back t' the target." The man nodded. "A good way to practice is load in spent brass between your cartridges, when you pull the trigger on those it won't kick so you can see how bad you are compensatin'."
The officer nodded his head and the Ranger stepped out onto the dirt. Before shooting he went and replaced the paper target with a fresh one and set up a new target where one wasn't being used. He would be shooting at the two targets.
The setup done he moved back to edge of the dirt, turned to face everybody up under the cover and reached for his Sig at his waist. Again he drew it while spinning round to engage the targets. This time he walked toward the first target as he squeezed the trigger firing round after round until there was a click, the first snap cap was in the chamber. The Ranger worked the slide ejecting the round and resumed shooting as if nothing had happened. When time came for the first reload he ejected the first mag, loaded in the second and switched targets.
As he engaged the second target a few more snap caps came up, again he fluidly ejected them and continued shooting.The magazine emptied while he was fifteen yards away, he let it go empty and the slide lock back this time. He switched which hand held the Sig and pulled back his right hand using it to draw his Smith and Wesson 500. The massive revolver slid out of the holster and was directed at the first target, a moment later a fireball erupted from the end of the 8 3/8" long barrel. The Smith and Wesson Model 500 fires the largest commercially available handgun cartridge. The noise it generates is so massive it is like hearing a normal handgun without earplugs while wearing earplugs.
The first round went right between where the eyes would have been on the target. The gun lowered and the Ranger fired another round one handed, but this time at the second target. Again, right between the eyes. He Then fired a third shot, striking slightly to the right of where his second shot hand hit.
He holstered both guns and looked at his targets. One round on the second target was about an inch out of place. The shot was still well enough placed to most likely kill the target, but to the Ranger it was still a miss. He picked up his ejected magazine, and the .500 S&W brass (they are $4 per round, cheaper if he used reloads) before heading back to the covering.
His sidearm holstered the Ranger watched looked from target to target, interested mildly in how everyone else there was doing. The few other people at the edge of the covered area had fired or were still firing. Most had a decent grouping in the center but with several outliers. With one man it was obvious he was anticipating and not getting a 'surprise shot' as he consistently hit high. Another man had odd breaks in his fire, his wrists were to limp and the gun wasn't cycling properly. Another man, had a nice tight grouping.
Looking down the line of shooters the Ranger saw who it was, the man he presumed was a police officer. That was mildly surprising, most police officers only shot enough to qualify, this man clearly shot enough to be strongly above average.
All his magazines empty he moved back to where his equipment was and laid out all the magazines to be reloaded. Not long after the sound of gunfire died down to only people in other areas of the range. No one else around him was shooting. He slung a shoulder holster under his left arm and slid a loaded Smith and Wesson 500 revolver into it before finishing loading the three magazines a few snap caps finding there way randomly interspersed, sliding 2 into the mag holster, and the last into the Sig.
"Anyone mind if I advance on my target?" The Ranger called out before turning to look at the other people there. There were a few shrugs, mutters of why not, and then he looked to the possible police officer for an answer while moving to walk out onto the dirt.
((OOC: That's all good. Also, if you want any info on guns you can always PM me, they are something I know a fair bit about.))
Three magazines of .357 Sig loaded the Ranger slid one into the Sig 226 and racked the slide, chambering a round. He then worked the decocker setting the gun to double action for the first shot (the closest function the gun had to a safety), slid the into a hip holster on his right side, and the nslid the other two magazines into a hip holster on his left.
As of yet no one had stepped out onto the dirt to shoot, they were all shooting the full 50 yards so the Ranger would first practice at range. He stood in position, ready to fire and turned his back. When possible practicing identifying and drawing on a target on the fly was advisable. While his back was to the targets he could see another man had joined them out on the range, which was nothing special, what was worth noting was the man had a Glock 19 with Hi-capacity mags. They didn't look old enough to be preban, sure they may have been but it was unlikely. More thank likely this man was law enforcement.
The Ranger didn't exactly have the best rapport with NYPD, though he had reached an understanding of sorts with the officer who concerned herself with him. He'd just have to not do anything illegal today, or stop any crimes commited around him. It seemed cops just didn't like good Samaritan vigilantes.
Pushing that aside in his mind the ranger went back to firing. Sticking in a pair of ear plugs and sliding on an orange tinted pair of safety glasses he took a casual stance. He slowly moved his hand to his gun and then in an instant took hold of the grip and drew it while he spun round to face the target. By the time he had made a 180 the gun had been raised to chest level, his left hand moved to hold it too his thumb reaching across the frame in line with his index finger, and when he faced the target he punched out at the target. Both arms straightened as he took an isosceles stance, bring the sights up in line with his sight, and firing. The first trigger pull was long, the hammer coming down as he pulled, the subsequent shots were single action, the hammer cocked by the preceding round.
The Ranger fired and fired in quick precision. When he had one round left, in the chamber, he ejected the empty magazine and as it fell he slid in another magazine and continued firing. When one round was left he repeated the motion and then fired until it clicked.
The gun was loud. All guns are loud yes, but .357 Sig is wildly loud for its size. Having roughly the same amount of powder normally behind a .40 S&W but a round .002 larger than a 9mm Parabellum gave the round noise unequaled by anything shy of a .50 or a rifle round, and a kick worse than most other handgun calibers.
The gun was holstered and the Ranger peered out at his target. From 50 yards away he could see that the center was missing.
It had been a while since the Ranger took the time to practice firing handguns, sure he still had managed when he needed to use it but before long he'd get rusty and an operation could go south. To that end he packed up a few guns and some ammo cans and headed to an outdoor range he knew on the outskirts of the city.
Straight Shooters Pistol and Rifle Range, an outdoor range that accommodated firing up to 500 yards and allowed for tactical shooting practice. You generally didn't find too many beginners here, partly due to the inconvenience of driving out to it, but mostly because of the lack of rules against high powered rounds, practicing reloads, and shooting while approaching the target. The latter of course is generally only done when the other shooters have been informed.
The range was fenced off and had high berms on three sides to catch the rounds, as well as berms in the middle to divide the individual ranges. At the front sat a small steel building that the manager sat in. In that building you payed, received a range card so you could shoot, bought targets, and could even buy ammunition or rent handguns. The Ranger having been here before showed the man his range card, payed, and then took his gear out to a wooden frame with a tin roof and concrete floor. From there he could face down range of a 50 yard pistol range.
He set a rifle case on plywood counter and opened it revealing a selection of three handguns, stripped to of any illegal modifications and those that could had preban hi-capacity magazines so he wouldn't have to deal with any police enforcing idiotic laws. A Sig 226 chambered for .357 Sig with a a few preban 18 round magazines, a Smith and Wesson .500, and an FN Five-seveN. He then set an ammo can on the counter, opened it, and set to loading three magazines of .357 Sig.
The woman didn't believe him, apparently she knew someone else with his name and that meant he couldn't be who he was. Which is completely silly, multiple people can have the same name. Though he wasn't about to interrupt someone with a gun to point that out. Yet, maybe he wouldn't have to, she stopped speaking. Michael uncovered his eyes to see the gun lowered slightly.
Then she said that she thought someone had turned him into a kid. What a dumb thing to say, he'd always been a kid. He'd always been a kid and even were he to have been an adult how could someone make him a kid again. "But I..I've always been a kid. I think someone jus' kidnapped me an' stuck me here... Where's here anyway, U-ston?"