Evils

Friendly, open forum populace who are always willing to offer advice = If you say even the smallest thing wrong, one of the ruling caste of 'Been-here-since-beta's' will jump down your throat.

[/cynicism]

((Written by Loup Garou))

Jean-Luc was still in a muzzy haze after Acre's death. He'd gone through the motions at the new restaurant in the Isles, he'd gone through the motions getting a new place; one that didn't smell like Acre, for example. He'd visited Acre's mother, made sure Lyn had what she needed, the offer to move her still open. He'd take care of her - it's what Acre would have wanted.

He still wasn't allowed in the rings, however; Jean-Luc still had that faint air of a dead man walking - he didn't try to put on a show for the crowd but dispatched his opponents cleanly and almost instantly. His victory count was rising, but his spirit certainly wasn't.

Another night of cooking, another night of pacing the streets with dulled golden eyes and a snarl for anyone who got too close. He debated going back to the Corporation - but he wasn't sure he could keep himself from launching for Anti's throat yet

(was an accident...I know dat...but still...)

and so he stayed away, walked by the building but never went in, didn't get in touch, didn't want to talk about Acre at all. Didn't want the memories or the reminders.

With a complete lack of interest he went from one dive to the next, taking a drink, and then another. For some reason the more he drank, the more sober he felt. One bar, then another, and then another, seedier and seedier as the night wore on. He roamed the streets at 2am, as they were just emptying out with equally hopeless Steppenwolves like Jean-Luc himself.

A massive propoganda-screen bleated the same pro-Arachnos propaganda as ever, and then, crackled, distorted, the picture being rent from side to side, another crackle - and then a voice Jean-Luc knew all too well. Knew, and yet didn't know at all.

"Greetings people."

Jean-Luc blinked, and paused in the street - oblivious to his surroundings and staring up into Ed Mechano's televised, and utterly mad, face. The Creole's mind was a blank for a moment, disbelief being the only thing that registered for a long while.

Mon Dieu...so you really did lose yo' min'...

"There are some who believe themselves to be above everything and everybody else...believing themselves to be untouchable...and you know what that brings?"

Jean-Luc frowned, staring up at Ed's face; one of the few people he'd ever met in Paragon, the one man he'd looked up to more than anyone. It was like watching some imposter on the screen -

(being a hero? I just make it up as I go along, Jac...)

- someone else Jean-Luc didn't know. And still, he stared upward, shock turning into something else entirely; familiar constricting bands around his chest which threatened to crush him.

"Which is why I'm going after people I think have got a little too complacent as of late, people, as I said before, believe themselves to be nigh untouchable..."

Over a year ago, Jean-Luc had ventured topside to honour a promise. He'd met people and thought he could heal, thought he could be the hero he had hoped to be. And with his moving to Paragon to help the Corporation, his return to the rings, the loss of Acre, and now this - his best friend lost to madness - he felt as if he had come full circle. He'd ventured Topside to change; and everything he'd gained, he'd lost.

The rage built up in him again, just as it used to, and he glowered, eyes growing hunter-bright in the dim, still morning.

(...nobody is ever going to know what it's like for guys like us to try and walk the line...they're too soft.)

"Now I must dash...the advert break is ending here in the Isles...and I'm not stupid enough to talk over Arachnos funded and scheduled programming...so there is but one thing left to say..."

Jean-Luc's lips curled back from his teeth as Mechano posed and preached. One more loss in the world, one more dream crushed, personal hero turned terrorist and madman. The Creole had never beaten Mechano in a sparring match before in his life - but then, Jean-Luc had cause at the time to hold himself back, even then.

(...ain't you afraid someday you gonna lose it?

No. I've got God on my side.)

Slowly, Jean-Luc brought out his cellphone - he rarely carried one, but it had been pressed on him by his own restaurant manager; she wanted to keep tabs on him if he ever decided to disappear. He had a few numbers in it, and one in particular.

Edward threw his arms back and gave a manaical laugh, "LET THE GAMES BEGIN!"

"M'bel, Izzy...c'est Jean-Luc. You prob'ly already seen Ed on de tube. I owe him a favour; I ain't paid it even tho' I know I shoulda done. Fin' me. Bonswa."

Jean-Luc hung up. Still seething, still holding onto his rage, and yet incredibly calm

- dat be Richard, prob'ly -

he reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a transcommunication device. Jean-Luc hadn't understood the thing or even how it worked, but he had greatly appreciated the gesture.

(if you ever need me, get in touch, the kids would certainly like to visit redside someday. Just remember you're not alone.)

The screen above him went blank, and then, an advert for something no one really needed started its jingle and salespitch. Jean-Luc didn't see it; he was still seeing Mechano's crazed eyes, still hearing the laugh. The transmitter was a bit old and battered, but he didn't doubt it still worked.

Resolutely, he depressed the button, and spoke with a strange flatness, an icy clarity.

"Bonjou, mon ami. So...you finally done dropped off de deep end, non?" Jean-Luc's golden eyes narrowed to slits, a harshness creeping into his voice. "What, did dat woman you was seein' dump you? Did God let you off de leash? Dunno...an' don' care. But one thin' I gonna do. I gonna fulfil de promise I made. De one where it was said if you evah done finally los' yo' mind, you'd have a select few finish you befo' you cause trouble."

Jean-Luc's anger burned, and then ebbed until he felt merely...tired. Ed wasn't to blame; insanity wasn't something anyone could cure, not even Powers That Be. But regardless, he'd fallen, and as a friend, Jean-Luc could at least either try to drag the man back from the brink...or put him out of his misery.

"You wrong, mon ami," Jean-Luc said quietly. "De game ain't about to begin. De game, she be over. I see you soon. Bonswa."

Jean-Luc released the button on the side of the transmitter, and tossed it into a nearby bin. He wouldn't be surprised if it blew up. Ed was certainly clever, and thorough as well.

Well, if dis be my las' dance, then I gonna make sure it be a good one.

Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc wandered toward his new flat, with its weights and workout room. He'd venture into the Warzone as well, just to keep his edge, put himself back in fighting trim. He'd need it.

Dead man walkin'...onna us, anyway.

((copy-pasted from @Fire Singer's post on NHU forums, due to lack of forum account here))

In the underground NHU base: Location, not so well known

Fire Singer walked past the new computer room and something caught her eye though the glass window that separated the room from the corridor. It looked like a video feed of a building, a glowing pink building. Quickly she wandered in and approached the screen.
“Hal, what is this?”
Hal the groups super computer answered swiftly as he always did.
“It is a recording of an incident that happened five minutes ago to one of the buildings on the outskirts of paragon.”
Fire watched as the recording rewound and played again.
“And why are we watching this?” Fire looked to where she guessed one of the cameras that Hal used to see the base was.
“I found it, amusing!”
Fire just blinked a few times at that.
“Riiiiight…” Fire slowly back away out of the computer room and carried on walking down the corridor.
Hal watched Fire walk off on the multitude of cameras that acted as his eyes in the base. It was rather amusing he thought, in one stroke he had managed to pay back an over standing dept to an old army officer that had helped provide information to him for a long time. He had also managed to feed false information about the bases location, though he expected Arachnos or something to find this information and blow the building up, not for someone to spray it bright neon pink. He sifted though the multitude of information that filtered in about the numerous other ‘incidents around the city’.
“A game is to be played” Hal pondered as he ensured his firewalls where running and the virus software ran its umpteenth scan of the day. “I must monitor this” the screens in the computer room all shifted to show various security cameras around the city.

You can also contact @Verto in the NHU, who is often online for longer than @Hana Li and @Fire Singer.

The Corporation leader is @Longier, but you can also contact myself, @Shadow Phoenix, @Quildo, @Techbot Alpha, @Riled and @CX-1233, who are all responsible for plotty goodness.

Or they're working on more content and fixing existing bugs (Hey, I can hope!) and just don't have the time. Just to throw out another viewpoint, and not urinating all over your idea as I have a Night Widow and want buttcapes for all!

I've no idea, around six-hundred hours or so for my first hero fifty, around two or three (or four?) hundred for my first villain fifty. I've got no others that high. I spend more time roleplaying than grinding levels, which slows levelling speed a lot unless you only run in in-character teams.

When my older brother got his account he hit fifty in eighteen days.

Individual limb customisation.

More realistic facial options.

[pattern] plus versions of the with-skin body details in the same vein as Angelic Plus and so forth.

For the places with interesting views and such, I recommend a notepad and pencil. For all your badging needs, there's the badge-hunter website.

Many congratulatory sentiments of a jovial and celebratory nature during your cake-fuelled period of twenty-four hours!

No worries Pious, people gathered in the Monkey Bar anyway and set up their own scraps for the fun of it.

...aufwiedersehen goodbye! *sings*

Have fun, good luck, and happy hunting.

I second this suggestion, and sneakily sneak in a sneaky sub-suggestion that we get some cycling seasons to boot. QOL improvement, more immersive, etcetera.

[ QUOTE ]
Ok now you pay attention, i was only trying to help, try harder. 8 shivans alone can pretty much kill statesman, i dont know what went wrong with that run.

Try it again, maybe he was bugged then.

Thinking about it, if you were at him for an hour, i take it you had no shivans left? In which case you should have gone and got more. Also was he killing you or was it a case of you just couldnt kill him?

If he was killing you were you all filling up with lucks between deaths? Because you want 4 of those running at all times.

I just cant understand how 8 of you, in fact 8 of anything with 8 shivans couldnt kill him.



[/ QUOTE ]

We spammed shivans, nukes, holds, reds, lucks, oranges, everything we had. He didn't fall. Bugged? Probably. 'Go get more'? Not very good advice given all we've said. Annoyed? Well, yes. Frustrating beyond measure actually. We'll try again, no worries there. We can't understand it either, hence this rant thread.

I too was on the team. I had my Dual-blade/Willpower Brute, Col. had his Elec/Elec trademark, we had a Night Widow VEAT, a Plants/Thorns Dom, Thugs/Dark Minder, EM/Nin Stalker, and two others I can't remember this minute due to the late finishing time. All of us were experienced players who knew our archetypes. We all had shivans, and a handful of nukes. There was resistance and regen debuffing, and throughout the strikeforce we chewed through everything that came at us, even taking out three Heroes at a time when we got to the final fight.

If a team like this cannot beat Statesman, flexible, balanced and varied, then something is not perhaps as it should be. Thou Shalt Have Five Corruptors just doesn't cut it at all as a reason for our lack of success. During the mass nuke/shivan attack, I hit twenty small red insps and combined with fury hit the damage cap (750%) for a few seconds. States didn't even blink.

Overall, we had fun, but getting kicked back when we were so close was not the best feeling. I cannot believe that needing five of one kind of AT just to beat one final boss is balanced, and reeks of WoWness. I will try the SF again, but not for a while, I think.

Improved server stability = We made being in game more stable, but changing characters will cause a crash.

Enhanced server stability = It never crashes when we test it.

Increased server stability = It isn't crashing for the people who used to crash, instead it's crashing for everyone else.

Many congratulatory sentiments of a jovial and celebratory nature!

Quick note about typing [Walk] into chat. If you click the info, don't click the detailed info tab, you'll crash, as many people and myself all found out to our costs early yesterday evening.

Jovial festive-season to all.

Chair-Raid: Goes to nightclubs specifically to jump onto a seat, then move forwards, move back, move back again, move back again, move forwards, slightly to the right, little more, then sit down.

Millions of players worldwide! = No more than five-hundred-thousand players, most of them with multiple accounts to farm phat lewt.

With the advent of Invention Origin enhancements that grant better-than-Single Origin bonuses, powers are more effective for longer periods than before the Invention system. Thanks to IO sets, a level fifty character (if fully set-slotted) has the effective capabilities of a level 53 character, higher in some cases.

From my persepctive, this makes mobs easier to beat, making it seem like the game is too-easy. It's not. The game is much as it was before Inventions. If you want proof of this, use a dual-build and slot nothing but SO's to 50++ on your max-level character, and try fighting some Cimerorans or Rikti on maximum difficulty. Then switch back after fifteen minutes or a mission or so, and run it through again with the IO build. If you still feel the game is easier, come back to me with proof and I'll show you my recipe for baseball-cap pie and youtube my eating it (half-serious offer: I like my baseball-cap too much to actually eat it, but will provide a hat-pie recipe).

The IO system also gives a handy way to make things tougher. Slot level 25 vanilla IO's into your level fifty character. They give a less-than-SO enhancement to your powers, making it immediately more difficult to beat the mobs. The level of the IO-slotting can then be fine-tuned until you have a preferred level of challenge.

Oh yes, I'm rather back. Eleven days of moping around showed me that gaming makes me happier than prescription medication, and comes with fewer side-effects.

From what I understand this suggestion is how the game originally was, but the Archetypes were implemented to prevent the coockie-cutter chars people were gravitating towards, each highly overpowered. Can you imagine Energy Blast paired with Unvulnerability, before enhancement diversification was implemented?

Awe-inspiring, just incredible.

Forum population is not a direct representation of server population, as those who forum are often a minority compared with those who don't.

Presently, lesser populations in-game could be related with the global broke-ness of the playerbase, with people cancelling subs to save an extra few of their local denomination each month. (As a side note: Gizzajob!? Night-shifts preferable, have counterbalance forklift license)

Sir, you rock. Will take some screenies and pm them before account expires.