Ex_Libris

Lobe sees the two butcher knife wielding zombie makers approaching Deth's blind side. "Hey you! Leave the lady alone," he shouts and slaps his massive hands together. A visible wave of sound and wind travels towards the alerted morts and they attempt to avoid it's impact. One succeeds and grins evilly at Lobe, ignoring his companion who is deafened and hurled back 3m by the thunderclap.

Still grinning with deranged intent at Lobe the remaining mort closes the distance on Deth.

"Look out Miss Lady!" Lobe warns, unable to think of anything to do before the mort reaches her.

II. Synchronicity
My fathers funeral was short. No mention of his work, no mention of my mutation, his crippling car accident that left him in a wheelchair. Only me, my Mother, and some extended family and friends. Closed casket, simple burial, and only four words on his tombstone : Called to by God.
It was always in my head that heroes never died. That they lived on forever, and in some part, they did. A hero saves a child. He will remember that until he dies, until he tells that story to his children and grandchildren. They tell theirs, and theirs, and so on, immemorial. In essence, they became immortal.
That day, I swore to become immortal.
After the funeral, a small service was held. My father had some special conditions in this will. This after ceremony was supposed to be a time of laughter, and it was. For most of them. I stayed at the grave, looking over the newly upturned soil. I turned around to join my fathers party when I ran into a body standing behind me. I felt my energy boil, but as I looked up, there was a hand reaching down to help me up.
“Dude, you alright?”
Luckily, it was no Freakshow or fifth column member. It was just Jay.
Jay was my best friend for all of my life. Me and him have formed a strong friendship, and I was glad to see him here.
Of course, Jay wasn’t his actual name. His real name was Joshua Kramer. He knows my real name, but now he knows never to call me by it. He calls me by my … “other” name.
In an odd bit of coincidence, his and my grandfather had served together in World war two, only his grandfather, nicknamed Kramer, had been a P.O.W. and had been released in a raid that my grandfather leaded. He was found in a lab, uncertain about what had exactly taken place there, only that several needle entry points were found on his arm. However, a doctor had cleared him. He lived longer than my grandfather, but not much longer.
Another notable fact was that Jay was addicted to fire. The literal definition of pyromaniac. He always had a lighter with him, even though he didn’t smoke. It always pissed off my mom, because he spent most of his time at my house. His parents were a little too shaky to be reliable, slightly verbally abusive. It didn’t really affect him much, just he liked it much better over my house. He was fifteen, like me, his birthday a couple of months after mine.
As he slowly helped me up, he handed me a package, sealed with a wax seal. It held the strangest of insignia’s on it. I looked up at Jay, confused.
“It’s something your father gave you for your will.” he stated simply. I threw the box in my pack, and walked towards the service.
Me and jay walked home, and he figured I needed some time alone. We shook hands ( the secret handshake, we had come up with in fifth grade, mind you. ) and he ran down the alley to his house.
I ran up to my room, and broke the seal quickly. I poured open the contents on my bed, a little surprised at what I saw. There were two items: an envelope labeled “2”, and a small, CD container labeled “1”. The CD in it read that it was a DVD, so quickly, I popped it into my laptop.
The face of my Father filled the screen. He spoke slowly, and I had no idea what was about to come out.
“ Son, it looks like you must go without me. I have passed, but it is time you are strong. You must understand your past, and learn something very vital, and it does not just concern you.”
First, he explained my powers. He said that I was able to absorb energy from the environment, and that I also had the powers of empathy. Both were from a mutation, a ticking clock in our genome. It ticked down to me, and that is how I received the powers. But what came next was a true insight.
“ Son, I was not paralyzed in a car accident.”
I stared at the screen blankly, watching my father talk about his adventures as Psyman, He loved it, and sat intently, even as he heard the story of how this “ticking clock” started. The chemical, allowed into his fathers bloodstream, started it. He took this all in, but the true surprise was about to be unleashed.
“This was a chemical that my father, your grandfather, retrieved from a Fifth column lab. They had stolen the mixture from it. It was a chemical that created a constant energy vacuum, only filling a small amount at a time. It would eventually be filled, and therefore useless, but it would be centuries at a constant flow, such as that from the power suit. Now Son, listen carefully. Your grandfather retrieved it in a raid to save Josh’s grandfather. It had been added into his bloodstream, same as this chemical was added to mine. However, the one added to mine was a more pure stream. The one injected into Joshes grandfather was more chaotic. It needed an extra generation to spawn, and it also caused a different reaction. As if that wasn’t enough of a shock, this is the most important thing. Josh has powers very similar to you. He has not spawned them yet, but he will soon enough However, they are on a different type than yours. How can this be if your powers came from a mixture of your already muta-genetic genes and this chemical? If Josh has no ticking clock, how did he get these powers?”
I waited in heavy anticipation, hinged on his every word.
“Son. You and Josh share a common ancestor. You both carried the ticking clock. And now you both carry powers, enough to be a hero, to live out my dreams that were killed by a bullet. You control the powers of empathy and energy. However, Josh controls power over another energy source. He can manipulate and control-”
I did not need to hear the last word as a smile came over my face, as me and my father spoke in unison.
“Fire.”
-----
Josh walked down the alley to his parents house, not hearing the clicking of metal behind him. Not hearing the humbled voices.
“ He knows that kid that attacked us.. Maybe he can tell us about him. Or maybe we can just beat it out of him!”
Josh never saw the freakshows approach him.
And as they all soon found out, he never needed them to.

I. The End.
I never saw a doctor after the bank incident. I ran. I just… ran. The police never chased me, neither did any fifth column members. I got to the hospital long before the ambulance did, never quite sure if it was my own ability or this newfound energy. I followed my aging father into his room, and I pleaded that the doctors let me follow him in. However, he persisted that I stay in the waiting room.
Everything will be fine. He told me that. He was wrong.
I sat with my father for 6 hours. He had a smile on the whole time, and he gazed into my eyes lovingly. I will never forget his eyes. They seemed… satisfied. His mouth slowly opened, and a world of insight flooded out. I fell off of my chair.
Don’t seem so surprised boy. This city needs you.
My father never cried in his life. But a single tear escaped his eyes as the last words he ever said escaped his mouth.
“Son…” he uttered, the sound of machines buzzing an whirring around him, his only connection to the living. “ the way you are is not a punishment, or a burden. It is a gift, from our ancestors. We were meant for this to occur. Live on, for me.” He then sat up, gazed once more into my eyes. “There is…. There is no point in living if you can’t feel alive…. Feel alive son… for those who…who… aren’t.” He slowly closed his eyes, and laid back. He brandished a smile, and slowly mouthed the word “Alive”. He died in peace, his purpose fulfilled in his eyes.
I walked out of the room, my mother watching from the door. She had no idea what happened with me. However, I turned to look at her, my eyes glowing and bright tears of light streaming down my cheek. Instantly, she knew.
I then continued to walk. Throughout Paragon city, in all the suburbs, and finally to atlas park. I kneeled down at the memorial, to the legendary Statesman, and as I did, It started to rain, hard. My tears fell with the rain, as I pounded the ground at the memorial, screaming up to the sky. I never saw the two shadowy figures coming in behind me. I never saw the metal appendages spawning from their arms, never saw the multicolor hair cuts or body tattoos.
Not yet at least.
The first seemed extremely compassionate in his speech, not at all like his actual nature. But the freakshows have the best PR department in the city.
“Kid, you seem down. You need any help?” He asked. His friend seemed to gaze on, not really showing any emotion except…. Eagerness.
“No.. I just need some time alone, that’s all.” I replied, wiping my nose with my sleeve. It did no good, considering the downpour.
“You sure? You look like you could use a friend. I know a lot of people who can help you through this obviously tough time.” He extended cold, robotic hand to help me up. “C’mon. Join the freakshows.”
I looked to his hand, and slowly I stood up, standing under his figure. I must not have figured their size correctly by the quick glance I gave them earlier, because they both stood towering over me.
“I said no, leave me alone, you freaks!” I yelled. I slowly realized that more shadowy figures had crowed around me, all of them dressed as freakshows. I heard their gruesome appendages click and whiz around me.
“Listen kid, life is easy when you are with us. When you want something….” His robotic arm clamped shut. “you just take it. Now we can do this easy, or-”
“No! Let me go! I am leaving!” I went to leave, when two metal armed thugs pushed me in the center. Two more grabbed me by my arms, as they converged on my body with kicks and punches. I took them silently.
“Look at him!” one yelled. “Too weak to fight back and too stupid to call for help!” He punched me once more in the face. My head hung even with my shoulders, balanced by the two robotic arms holding me there. My hair, wet with rain, sweat, and blood, hung in front of my eyes. Their punches stopped, probably because they wanted to view me in my beaten state.
“I didn’t call for help on purpose.” I said, out of breath. The leader did a double-take upon hearing me speak.
“Oh yeah?” he said, angered that I wouldn’t just fall down and die. “ Why not?”
I looked up at him, my eyes glowing a bright white. I smirked, blood running from the side of my cheek. I screamed, maintaining the smirk on my face.
“Because I am alive!”

Ten minutes later, the freakshows crawled away from the scene. Their twisted metal armaments lay scattered on the ground, and energy wisps still hung from my fingertips. I panted, not sure of what I had done, exactly. After grabbing me, a jutted two ball of energy into the stomach of the freakshows holding me in place. The others converged on my location, and I leaped up just in time. At least, I think it was a leap…

It still rained, and I decided to go back to comfort my mother. As I turned, I glanced once more at the Atlas memorial. I glanced down at the plaque, reading each word.
To the Statesman and all heroes who follow him.
I heard another body approaching behind me. My eyes began to glow, and I turned around, energy slowly gathering in my hands.
What I saw, I would never forget.
The Statesman was standing behind me, holding out a soaked piece of paper.
“Kid, trust me. That plaque belongs to you.” He said. He handed me the paper, and he simply winked and flew away.
I looked down at the piece of paper. I slowly smirked, and my clenched my hands into a fist. I slowly ran home, letting the paper fall behind me.
It simply read: “New Heroes Apply For license at 229 Galaxy City…”

hey everyone. these were posted on the old boards, this is just an update.

Origin Of Psykid

My name is Psykid. I have a real name, but I only will let one person call me by it.
My Father.
I am a fifteen year old man, a wise talking, street smart, Defender of justice. Or, something like that. That is not the point, the point is my story.
I guess, in order to tell my story, I have to tell my fathers’. So here it goes.

My Father was a great man. He told me that as a child, he would listen to war stories from his grandfather. He was a war hero, and on one occasion, saved a group of superheroes from death. “ The great paradox”, he would call it. Saving the saviors. But, those were my grandfathers stories.
They filled my Father’s head with imagination or glory and valor. He yearned to be one of the mighty, a hero, so that he could do what his father could not. He constructed a battle suit, and soon, he joined the ranks of the mighty, and fulfilled his dream. At 28, He was The Psyman.
My father worked at a science plant, working on a project that had some accord with the human genome. For many of his experiments, he used his own tissue for study. This was his cover, his alias. He did not want people to know about his suit, for a couple of reasons, one of which had to do with the suit itself. It ran off of a mixture of chemicals, very expensive chemicals, that allowed it to run for a century before needing new material. However, many clamored after this chemical for it’s energy output for such low input. A group of the fifth column renegades heard of this chemical, and wished to use it for their own deeds.
They attacked my father en masse. Luckily, he activated his suit long enough to hold them off in a hazard zone, and hoped that other heroes would come to his aid.
Unfortunately, none did.
My father saw one shot left. The chemicals were highly acidic. Almost anything could make them combust in a huge explosion creating pure energy.
Especially Blood.
My father saw his arm bleeding, and new that it was his only shot. The explosion ripped through the hazard zone, destroying the attackers, while what was left of his suit saved my father’s life. However, unforeseen to my father, the suit slowly started eating away at itself, and in one final moment of life, an FC solider shot my father in the back of the spine.
The doctors were not able to save his legs.
Confined to a wheel chair, my father grew gravely ill. My mother used to tell me that is was because with out the weight of justice on my father’s shoulders, he grew weak and frail. That was 1986.
For two years, my father mourned his present state. He made up a story about a car crash to cover up for him at work. He worked more feverishly on the genome, until one day, he made a startling discovery. The chemical mixed with my father blood to become organic. He found that unseen areas of his chromosomes were being accessed in his genes, but they were not being expressed in my father. Slowly, he knew my.
Because he was to old. The “Lock” was there all along, and the accident only provided a key. My father saw it as a proof of divine intervention. His family was meant to have a hero. That duty would be thrust into his next of kin.
Me.
My parents wanted to conceive, so they went to a special clinic to conceive. My father Observed my genes in the lab, and they came out with the Lock- The ability to be a hero. He gave me the key I needed to unlock what was mine-and ours. I was born normally, and by then, my mother knew of what her son was capable of. However, this knowledge was not passed on to one critical source- me.
So slowly, I grew. I had no powers, due to a unforeseen aspect of my mutation-I had to wait for my puberty to unleash them. So, slowly, the time came, and…
Nothing.
Not until my day at the bank.
A year ago, I was 14 and my father took me to the bank. Using technology from his power suit, the doctors said that he might be able to walk again. The money that we were to loan from the bank was to pay for it.
Just as we were about to leave, a renegade group of fifth column members broke in, asking for money and waving guns. My father said something to them- something to this day I will never know.
They….
They shot him.
The adrenaline in me surged- and that very instant, the key in my body clicked with the lock. Somehow, I lurched energy towards them , and they flew back.
I stayed with my father all night long, and listened to him tell me about my mutation, and my gift.
He died later that night, and his last words will never leave me.
“ Son, Know that there is no point in living if you can’t feel alive.”

One year later, those words still stay with me.
I have controlled my powers a little more, and I have made myself a stable defender. I am pretty brash, being a teen and all, and I like to think I am funny. But with my gift, I will assure that there will be no more war, and I will pave my own war story.
I am, after all, 15 years old.
And in a final act of reverence, I have taken my father’s name, and altered it for my quest of justice. It is by it that I am called by the masses.
I am Psykid.
I am a hero.

RTFM - Read The Fekking Manual

I notice you have EQ

What about
AO: Anarchy Online
UO: Ultima Online
DAoC: Dark Ages of Camelot

Those are just the ones I hear most in gameplay, I know there's a lot more.

thanks for the submission Emission!

It is now posted, nice story

Great job, I was about to do this myself but was too tired last night so was going to do it today or tomorrow.

Now it is something I don't have too

Ahhh the joys of being lazy

So far I haven't seen too many problems on Virtue. The occasional mapserver disconnect, but that's about it.

oc I'm just that bored at work today
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You're such a 'fraidy cat," Jayce sneered at her in that way that was part mocking, part sibling rivalry and Gabriella stuck her tongue out at him. He was her older brother, older by six years, eighteen to her twelve.

"I am not!"

"So get down here and go swimming with us!" The family was in some little back water town, traveling through. Mama and Papa were working at one of the local farms and all their brood knew that the work would be over come August and they'd move again. It wasn't Paragon City. It wasn't even a Paragon City suburb, way out here in the sticks.

That was just how life worked for them. Pure Rom on all sides. Or as pure as you could get really. Her family and extended family had long ago given up most pretenses of being 'gypsy' blooded and since most of any decent festivals were held in Europe there weren't exactly opportunities to run around dressed in traditional clothing. Still, the children were told the old stories, passed on histories of what had happened to the dozens of motley branches of traveling people. It was a childhood filled with idealized dreams of freedom and romance and persecution and all of it indistinguishable from reality for Gabriella. Being the child of vagrant laborers meant that you lived with ideals of freedom and persecution on a daily basis and none of it had to do with her heritage.

"Get down here Gab!"

"No!" The current in the river was too swift for her tastes. She'd never liked water, not ever, not this much of it at least. She was okay if it was a small quiet pond where she could see the bottom but this? She could still remember being much younger and falling into the lake, nearly drowning, the water filling her lungs as she sputtered to stay above. Jason had saved her that day, dragging his baby sister to shore with all the aplomb of a hero. She adored him and idolized him more than any of her other five siblings.

The rest of her brothers and sisters swam around in the shallow eddies of the water, not caring a whit if their second youngest sister joined them or not. Even Kat, only five didn't seem bothered by it. Gabriella contented herself with dangling her feet in the shallows, secure that in doing so she wouldn't be sucked under that cold wet blackness.

Jayce paddled over to her, resting his arms on a rock as he looked up at her. "You need to get over it," he murmured keeping his voice so the rest couldn't hear.

"Too fast. Just go swim, I'm fine here." After all she had a book, one of the precious ones she'd managed to get out of the local library despite the librarian sneering down her nose at the migrant worker's daughter. Of all her siblings only her and Jayce knew how to read. Her current choice was a thick history of the French and Indian war and she was careful to not let water get on the cover. She had to read with her nose pressed to the book since she couldn't see it any other way. Glasses were a frippery that came after food and they could barely afford that.

"You sure? I'll keep you safe..." He held out a hand for her and she stalled again, eyeing the faster moving currents further out. But just the shoreline maybe... Tentatively she put the book aside, and slid into the water, gasping at the cold. Jayce grinned, staying with her as he paddled around and she floated idley. She was not a strong swimmer but she could dog paddle at least and he stayed near her, letting her cling to him when she got too tired.

"Stupid, you're twelve and way old enough to let go of him, or are you just chicken!" Paul, her second oldest brother taunted. His words, as always stung with a venom that was always aimed at Jayce and Gabriella. Thick as thieves they found themselves the targets of others and being the favorites of their parents didn't help any. There was a small war going on in the Rosso family between siblings.

"I am not!" Gabriella clung tighter to Jayce's arm. She could feel him tensing next to her.

"Fraidy cat can't even swim. Has to cling to Jayce because she's too weak. I wonder what would happen if we pushed her under."

She blanched with terror, nails digging into Jayce's arm.

"You wouldn't." But the thing about having so many other siblings was that the petty fighting and rivalry was like attracting a pack of sharks and Paul was the leader of that particular group. Before she could scramble to the safety of shore her brothers had peeled her off her brother's arm and started carrying her to the deep part of the river.

She fought like a wild cat, twisting and trying to get out of their strong grasp as they laughed. For most of them it was just taunting their little sister. For Paul... with terror she realized the gleam of anger and hatred in his eyes and fought harder.

"Jayce!!!!" She screamed and he tried helplessly to reach her, watching as Paul stepped between her would-be rescuer and herself.

Something happened.

She could feel the anger and fear building up inside her, clawing at her insides to be let loose somehow. She made one last desperate leap and slid out of her brothers' hands and tumbled head first into the rushing currents of the river.

Jayce screamed.

Water rushed up to meet her, drowning out her brother's agonized cries as he scratched at his arms, and face. Gabriellea hit bottom, shins scraping along the rocks before she fought her way to the surface. Jayce was screaming about the wounds on his body, about the hurt, stumbling numbly toward the bank with outflung hands like he was blind. Energy flickered and glowed around Gabriella.

She tried to stop it, tried to dampen it somehow but she couldn't. Didn't know how... her brother whimpered once more and collapsed face down into the water.

It was Paul who pulled him out, pounding on Jayce's chest as the lot of children gathered around. They kept a ring around Gabriella, staring between her and their unbreathing brother.
"What happened? What just happened??" She thought. The children backed up further away from her as she dragged herself out of the river.

"You killed him," Paul hissed. The rock he threw nearly hit her head but she ducked and started running. The worst part was she couldn't deny it. Little hiccuping sobs escaped her. Mama would know what to do...surely Mama would know...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Get out," the matriarch of the Rosso family hissed between clenched teeth. Tears streaked the old woman's face as she held the ruined body of her son. "Get out you little freak...GET OUT."

Mama had known what to do, protect the rest of her brood from the thing that was in their midst. They were outsiders already. There was no room for outsiders within their own family.

Gabriella ran.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She never really stopped running. City to city, town to town. She figured out by default how to use her abilities, how her mental thoughts could hurt and heal and control. Controlers, they called people like her. She made her way toward Paragon City, hoping that someone there could help and teach her, teach her how to use what she could do for help rather than hurt. She woke crying in the night with Jayce's blind and terrified eyes staring at her from her dreams.

Heroes in Paragon City were plentiful though and until she learned her abilities survival was a more important priority.
Card tricks and performances on street corners helped, earning her alias with all the flair and aplomb of one of her ancestors. To survive. But then survival became less of an issue the longer she stayed, the more she practiced her abilities, the more she went from petty thief to Hero. She clothed herself, fed herself, met people who were in on low wave crime sprees and made sure what she stole was put to good use feeding those who couldn't be fed. Because if she could help someone maybe the guilt she felt would go away. Robin Hooding for people less fortunate than herself became her mode of operation.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the fear that everyone would turn on her, would find out what she'd done, ebbed. She was tired of running. SHe missed having a home, even if it was for a few months. She missed having a family - even if they threw you out. Even if you killed the one person you loved most in the world. But gradually the acceptance of what she could do to help, even in tiny ways, won over the older terrors.

Then the Rikti came.

She was out of the city when it happened, surviving by mere chance, but it still changed everything. The city was a war zone and the lower-class areas where she lived weren't much better than anarchy and chaos in those first weeks.

The housing project was hardly what Gabriella would have called luxurious under regular circumstances. Actually it wasn't even comfortable, nearing clean, or even really fit for human habitation but it was where the nineteen year-old woman could both afford to stay. She was a minor helper to heroes at best.

But when even heroes needed help, what did you do? As it became abundantly clear that Paragon city would need more aid than it had available in those early days, even minor heroes like Gabriella, the Gypsy Rose, became more important.

Her hands were shoved deep in the pockets of hip hugger jeans one autumn day, as she avoided the main streets, trying to avoid the gangs that were looting and the invaders as well. Most of them had been cleared out but pockets still cropped up and by herself she wasn't much of a match for them.

The wind picked up, blowing dark red hair into her face and she squinted brown eyes shut to avoid getting grit in them. A wadded up and crumpled page tried to escape by her, wrapping itself around her leg.

She glanced down and paused, picking it up and smoothing it out carefully to read it. "Heroes wanted" was emblazoned in big bold letters across the top. Help those less fortunate hmm? Well the robin hooding and living by the skin of her teeth was wearing a little thin... why not? Robin hooding on a different scale appealed to the rescuer in her, eased some of the guilt and helped far more people than she could do now. But if she were a hero...a real one... maybe just maybe she could help more people than she had ever thought possible.

She folded the paper into her pocket and headed off to help.
____________________________
Posted by Northern_Minx
GypsyRose, mutant controller on Guardian Server

I'll register there as my ingame name, Obsidian Guard.

Nice job, maybe now I can find a good RP SG.

Coast of Western Ireland, Cliffside.-

In the background, an old Norman castle rises, part of it in ruins. The moon gleams off the violent sea, as storm clouds roll in to embrace the land. A white haired lady in a tight Victorian dress looks out to sea. Her face is ageless and dignified She is standing on an open patio lined with columns. She turns to face the castle, an amulet with a large glowing emerald rests on her chest, and a second is set into a golden belt around her waist. Her hair blows about her face, as the wind rises. An older gentleman, in a more modern suit walks up the winding path to the colonade.

"Morag, My dear, what brings you out here on such gloomy evening. The fires are burning in the castle and dinner is getting cold. After all of Beatrice's hard work, we should at least eat it."

"Jonathan, I will never understand how you can not appreciate the beauty and fury of a storm like this," she replies, her voice betraying a strong Irish heritage. "It brings me closer to my old duties and some of those I remember fondly".

"My dear, you were a different person then, a different being entirely. You are not full of wrath and vengence now. You are trusted and loved by your peers and family, surely that is what is important," Jonathan answers, a worried look in his eyes. His dress and speech mark him as a man of some wealth and breeding, His hair is cut short, greying slightly, although he does seem to be getting on in years.

"Before I met you, I wouldn't have agreed, but since then, and the council's acceptance of my Guardianship, I find this life fulfilling, but it would be nice to go back to my roots once in a while."

Lighting Crackles, a patter of rain starts to fall on the patio around them. Morag stops, her hands glow with a pure light and a shield forms around her and Jonathan, and the rain bounces off. Their hands meet, and as they do, the shields blend into each other, a smile, contentment shows on their faces as they both turn and head back to the partially ruined castle, leaving the storm to do it's worst, but themselves untouched by it's fury.
-----------
18 years later. Hampton Academy for Gentlemen. A private boarding school for young men, destined for Ivy League colleges. An Georgian Style residence hall, well decorated with athletic trophies and fine furniture.

Four young men sit around a table, dressed in t-shirts and jeans. One holds a package addressed to him, the others bug him to open it.
"Come on, Ethan open it" says a young red headed boy, with a light southern accent.

"Joey, I don't think that would be a good idea, I think I'll go somwhere private to open this, where all of you ruffians won't be able to bother me", an older boy, roughly 17-18 years old, responds. "You punks go find something else to do, I don't get things from my parents as often as you do, and I think I want to keep it for a bit before you louts break it."

"Fine, your spoilsport," replies a athletic young black kid. " Joey, go get your football, we can go play some, since it's the weekend. and Ethan is going to be such an [censored] about it"

Joey, mimes tipping his hat, and bowing out of the room, "yes sur, I be right back, sur, " and turns arouund and runs up the flights of stairs.

"Guys, you know I don't get anythng from my parents since they sent me here," Ethan speak up, "It's just, special. and I think I want to be alone with whatever they sent."

"We understand, Ethan. We'll be down in the South Green, if you need us," interjects a boy with a mediterranian look to him.
"Thank you, Elian, I'll let you guys know, soonest. if it's important," Ethan says.
---------
15 minutes later, in a Library. Old books line the shelves, Maps coat the walls, and globes rest on small tables. Overhead, an Orrery displayes the planets in their rotations.

Ethan places the wrapped box on a table, and opens a small pouch, taken from his pocket. Holding the pouch, he goes to the door and locks it, putting the key on the table next to the door. The t-shirted and jeans wearing youth, takes a pinch of silver dust from the pouch and casts it at the door. Words in a strange language come from his mouth, and the dust instead of falling to the ground, line the door's gaps, filling it in
Quickly following the same process, the windows, and vents are similarly coated. Afterwards, Ethan rests in a chair, his breath returning.
Pulling the chair up to the table, he starts to removed the wrappings. Inside is a wooden box, on the box are inscribes some rough runes hastily scribed. Reading the runes, Ethan takes a charm from around his neck and applies it to the box. It's form and decoration change. A golden box lays before him, inlaid with Egyptian mosaics that show Horus, the son of Osirus, triumphant over Set and removing his eyes.

Ethan sits back in his chair and sweat beads on his head. "Why did they send this to me," he thinks. Looking hesitant, and unsure, Ethan opens the box, resting inside are two Large Emeralds, both in their own settings, of Belt and Amulet. Blood and soot coat them, and the inside of the box. Ethan starts to cry silently, as he closes the box.

He spends close to an hour in the library before finding his friends again...(to be Continued)

I need to do some gramatical editing, that I can see.

[ QUOTE ]
I say we give it a couple more days before we decide to jump the "RP ship" so to speak and move to another server and start over again.

It was fine earlier today, but I had some annoying lag a few hours ago. It's probably just a matter of some maintenence and what not.

[/ QUOTE ]

Maybe, maybe not. I'm coming from the prespective of a long time EQ player. On EQ servers like Veeshan were incredibly over crowded and the over crowded servers were just no fun. People and l33t d3wds flock to the most crowded servers in mmorpgs and since the RP crowd in this game is rather large I felt that it's just asking for trouble.

But then, I could be completely off in my assumptions and virtue could be the best server ever. we'll just have to wait and see.

Heres my characters brief, history. let me know what you think?

Akira Hayabusa


Born into the famed hayabusa clan and son to Ryu Hayabusa. Akira although trained in the Arts of Ninjitsu, accidentally received Magical powers, increasing his physical attributes beyond that of the average man. Many years ago, when Akira was a very young boy, already several years into his training, Ryu, Akira’s father and his Grandfather Joe hayabusa were summoned by a distant clan to assist them in a battle against dark forces. Upon their departure Amino Icu, was left in charge. Akira always felt different and unsure of Amino’s place in the clan, as did Amino have contempt for Akira, knowing that he was next in line to lead the famed clan, and hold the dragon sword. Amino always felt, although he did not have the blood of hayabusa flowing through his body, that he should have been the next to lead the clan. Before his departure Ryu, stressed to Amino, that his primary mission, was to protect the Magical “Ryuken “ Sword from falling into the wrong hands, while he and Joe were away.
Several weeks passed since Akira last saw his father, and the Village began to grow dreary for Akira, since his Father solely provided his training. Without any training Akira began to wonder aimlessly through out the village and had desire to explore the nature and lush environment, which surrounded the little village.
Going against his father’s wishes Akira wondered outside of the Village. After wandering several miles outside of the village, Akira stumbled across an old structure, which he previously had never seen on his ventures out of the village under supervision. Unaware of the structure’s current or previous use, he decided to explore it. Upon entering the structure, Akira began to hear a familiar voice, and attempted to follow the voice to its possessor. After some time, the voice lead him to a large hall, a hall lined with many statues that towered far above Akira, and below them were countless lines of smaller statues, made up of several types of armor and weapons. The statues seemed to represent warriors, perhaps of the past. In the center of the hall were many benches of stone, which seemed to be aligned as if in a church. In front of these benches stood a large stone slab, its purpose unknown, and there he found the owner of the voice he had been hearing throughout the structure! It was none other than Amino, and to Akira’s surprise he was holding the Ryuken! He was kneeling before the slab, holding the sword and chanting in an unknown tongue. Akira hid in the rear, behind a bench unaware of the events ongoing, and watched with curiosity. As Amino chanted the sword began to glow a bright, nearly blinding yellow. Akira, struggling to see through the light continued to watch, and unknown to Amino. After several chants a, blurry figure, almost that of a ghost began to appear on the slab, with fear and curiosity running through his body, Akira, began to realize what Amino was attempting to do! He was attempting to use the Dark Ryuken sword to summon some perhaps warrior or god from the dead. Only minutes had passed, and the figure began to form, nearly into a full physical form. The fear in Akira began to overwhelm his curiosity and he panicked, he thought best to run and make others aware of Aminos actions, however in his attempt to flea hall he stumbled and ran into one of the small warrior statues, causing a large clanging which rang out throughout the hall.
Stunned by the noise ringing out in the hall, Amino stopped his chanting, dropped the sword and stood to look around for the source of the noise. He looked to the rear and saw, Akira. He seemed both angered and pleased to see Akira, perhaps because he realized he could cut the Hayabusa lines by eliminating Akira right there and then. Amino was not going to waste this opportunity, so with his back to the slab he reached down to retrieve the sword, however to his surprise it was gone. Amino quickly looked into the eyes of Akira, and saw a fear in his eyes you could not imagine in your worse nightmares, but it was not for Amino it was for the beast he had summoned. Because of the interruption Akira caused, Amino was unable to complete the summoning and the beast was not to its complete form. Amino turned to see what he had created and saw the beast, hid stood over ten feet tall, in somewhat of a human form, but mutated, in a dark red skin, large horns and spikes poking out from its tough skin, but the most noticeable feature, was its bright yellow eyes. They seemed to glow, similar to that of the sword, the sword that was now in the beast’s hand. In a large roar, and without hesitating, in one swift slice it separated Amino’s head from his body. The beast seemed to be pleasured, until he saw Akira! In one large leap, he flew across the large hall, and was standing over Akira. He began snarling and drooling, over top of him, almost as if he was bating him into an action, but Akira did not move, showed no emotion and this surprised the beast. It stood back and looked at Akira, with curiosity. Akira decided to take this opportunity to maybe flea, so he did. He stood slowly to not surprise the beast and then slowly turned and began to run, but before he could take 2 steps, he was frozen. Akira could not move and he began to levitate, as if the beast had a control over his every move. The beast pulled him closer, and Akira began to feel and burning sension within his body and began to blackout. Then suddenly he heard loud screams of battle, it was Joe and Ryu, who returned from their venture. Before he could see the battle, which was about to ensue, Akira lost consciousness.
One week late, Akira finally woke from his long slumber. Lying in his bed he opened his eyes and his fathered who was sitting beside him, jumped away from Akira in amazement. Akira’s eyes, which were once a deep brown, now glowed a bright yellow, perhaps one of the many effects received from the beast. After the initial surprise, Ryu went on to tell Akira, of the events which occurred. Amino, who wished to achieve control of the clan and village, provided a false invitation of assistance from a distant clan to Ryu & Joe, in order to get them out of the village. He then was attempting to summon an evil warrior which was banished from the clan centuries ago, a warrior which he could use to attain control of the clan, that is until Akira had interrupted the summoning, and caused the warrior to betray, Amino, for not completing the ceremony. Akira also asked Ryu, “What became of the beast”, Ryu responded,” You need not worry, it has been returned to where it came from, not to return ”.
After several months of rest, Akira returned to his young energetic self. He was different now though. The only immediate & noticeable changes, were his glowing eyes, however upon returning to training Akira realized his physical attributes, had been enhanced, perhaps the effects of the beast. His strength, speed and physical reflexes had increased beyond comprehension. It was unsure, what the beast was attempting to do with Akira, however Joe thought that perhaps the beast felt strength inside of Akira, and was attempting to merge himself with Akira, in order to complete his form, but none are really sure. Only the effects of the event are really a known.
These powers are the reason for Akira coming to Paragon City. You see after the event, many others felt ill feelings; contempt and some even maintained fear of Akira. Many thought the beast would re-emerge through him, many other young warriors felt jealous of Akira, and many had claimed they would not follow him once his time lead had the clan came. His new talents also lead to constant squabbling in the village and it began to separate the clan. After a lot of thought Akira, thought it be best for the unity and preservation of the clan that he leave the village. Perhaps if he left he would be able to find others who would appreciate his powers, or somewhere he could use his powers without being persecuted. His Father would not stop him, saying every warrior must find his own path, but made sure that Akira, was aware, his true home will always be with the Hayabusa Clan. So to Paragon city Akira went to use his powers for the for the good of mankind!!

Parallax: Martial Arts/Reflex, Technology Scrapper
- Bio Posted

Flint Lock: Assault Rifle/Devices Technology Blaster

Both "toons" are only lvl 4, Im working on backstory and tuning the "look" first.

Name:
Parallax

Server:
Virtue

Archetype:
Technology Scrapper

Power Pools:
Martial Arts/Reflexes

Bio:
Special Crime Unit - Parallax was developed by the Paragon Institute of Cybernetic Sciences (PICS) in partnership with Crey Industries as a prototype for the Paragon City Defense initiative, "Operation Invasion Shield". "Operation Invasion Shield" or OIS as is it commonly referenced, is the ongoing defense program to deter the Rikti Invasion Forces if, and when they next appear.

Paragon City Administration at the time of last Rikti Invasion felt that with the proper resources and research they could mass-produce a Special Police Force of highly advanced mechanical agents called "SCU". Enter Parallax. Parallax was the first of its kind; a fully aware, cybernetic being which possessed a combat knowledge data-center encompassing thousands of years of historical data. Parallax was an overwhelming success for the PICS and Crey Industries, as Paragon City Officials quickly decided to mass-produce the "SCU" based upon the Parallax prototype.

All was well in the world. The "SCU" were 4 months away from reaching economic feasibility, and Parallax was continuing "his" training regiment, taking a particular liking to the ancient martial arts. City Officials began to get nervous as rumors began to surface regarding Crey Industries and their potential misgivings. Soon it was decided that Crey would lose the contracts to mass-produce the "SCU", instead allowing private industry to share in the production under the operation of the Vanguard.

Losing its foothold in this program did not make Countess Crey pleased. Lucky for the Countess she had the scientists working for Crey store the Parallax data in an offshore data-warehouse, unknown to the Vanguard and the PICS. With her endless wealth, the Countess decided to continue developing the SCU program, but with a lesser-than-noble motive. Her plan was to secretly release the SCU into the public to do her bidding. She reengineered the SCU to be no more identifiable than any other normal citizen. That is, until the Crey R&D databases were hacked by the Vanguard. The Vanguard knew there was only one way to stop the underground plot. Release Parallax.

Parallax was now in "his" third year of maturity. He was now fluent in every martial art known to man, and had even begun to advance on Bruce Lee's Jeet Kune Do style, calling it "Perfect Fist". The PICS and Vanguard knew that Parallax would be able to seek out the underground "SCU" threat, and ordered him to do so. So now Parallax patrols the streets of Paragon City seeking his lost brothers and taking them down with the ultimate goal of stopping Countess Crey and her army.

okay no prob here one way or the other. I am just trying to find the better server to RP on before i make that character. I have also heard of a Victory RP group - has anybody heard about that? Man this would be so much easier if NCsoft would just designate a RP server, and then let us police it for people that don't ever RP. oh well, i'll keep fooling around on Infinity until this is decided.

My gals are:

Celestiel
Nea Noir
Precocious Pixy
Midnight Maiden
Triangle Woman

Here are three others:
otw - on the way
omg - oh my God
oor - Out of range (used if trying to heal someone, and they are out of range )

Just saw another one:
wth - what the hell?

Well, I survived. The entire invasion seemed to span days, but in truth it only lasted a few hours. When I climbed out from the wreckage my former place of employment I found the entire city up in arms against the alien threat. Heroes of all sorts were flying, leaping, and running to the various threatened areas.

Having just obtained my powers, I wasn't really gung-ho about jumping right into the body of the battle, so I straggled a bit. Hey, I'm a kid who just went through a traumatic experience, cut me a little slack.

Now I didn't hide, I just sort of, well, skirted the main body of action. There were all sorts of features of my suit to explore, and I wasn't even sure if my powers were permanent. I can't say I feel any different, but obviously something drastic has happened to me. It must have been some reaction between the serum I was given and the bursts of radiation. But like I said before; math and science is all Greek to me.

In the days after the invasion my powers steadily grew, and so did my hair. What used to be a short, black 'boys-cut' standard issue haircut became a shock of spiked white hair. I tried cutting it a few times, only to find it grown back in a matter of hours. It wasn’t limited to just my head either, my face decided to start playing cruel tricks. Now, a lot of kids are eager to get into the whole business of growing facial hair, I guess it sort of marks your ascent into adulthood or something, but I didn't buy into that. I now had a spiky beard that shot right out from my jaw. Sure, it looked pretty cool, but I would’ve been much happier with a trimmed goatee. Seriously fate, work with me here.

Joining the ranks of heroes in Paragon City was an obvious conclusion. I mean, these powers were kind of a gift, and I really should use it for good - I guess. But fighting crime isn't what it’s all cut out to be. I expected the whole, busting up gang wars and flying around blasting every baddie in sight. I soon found that it involves a lot of getting vomited on by poorly resurrected zombies and riding the metro. Out of all the new powers I've uncovered, flight doesn't seem to be one of them. I can't say I'm not disappointed. When you think of the greats, you think of them flying around doling out justice.

Oh well, at least the train is free for heroes.

I am now taking submissions for Super Hero origins stories.

If you want to write up a back story for your hero and have it featured on my site, send me an email at webmaster@digitalfiend.com and include any small .jpg pics you want included in your write up. Keep the pictures small and compact please.

Here is the way to format the Origin Story:
Hero Name:
Real Name:
Origin Type:
Archetype:
Story:
Server you are on:

The real name and the story of course are up to your imagination. The other info of course you get from the in game character generation.
Watch for some origins coming soon!

It had been only the three of them for the past 3 years, their father having passed away in an accident at his job. The events were unclear and the answers given were questionable, but Lori Alexander didn’t question to long or hard about what had happened to her husband. She knew in his line of work things sometimes happened and she knew that it was inevitable if he stayed there.

Dr. Jonathan Alexander was a civilian hired out by the military to handle certain projects that were to be done out of house. All he ever told his wife is he worked with different forms of radiation and chemicals. When her boys were born she was worried that something may happen to them because of the exposure that he received, but the boys were healthy and still growing today, much to her discomfort of having to by clothes ever month.

On October 18, 1998 bad news came knocking at the Alexander home. A driver from the labs where Jon worked at drove to the house and woke up the family at 11:00pm.

Cain, never needing a reason to be awake when he shouldn’t, rushed to answer the door bell that rang with a certain finality through the darkened house. His brother at the top of the stairs with their mom following sleepily behind.

“Yes? Can I help you!” Cain said with a harshness he thought was convincing for his age of fifteen.

“I need to speak with your mother son. Is Mrs. Alexander in please? It’s important.” The nervousness was apparent in his voice and his shuffling feet belied and type of comfort he was trying to appear to have.

“Well, she is asleep so. . .” He was cut off by his mothers gentle hand. He turned to look at her and he saw something he had never seen before in his mother. Doubt!

“Yes sir? May I help you?” Her voice wavered a little but she held strong fearing the news that she knew was coming. She then noticed for the first time a police cruiser parked in her driveway along side a corporate car similar to what her husband would drive to work. The officer was outside his car, but he was staying back away from the two talking.

“There has been an accident at the lab. Your husband. . . Jon. . .” A tear came to the mans eye as he stumbled over the words. “Mrs. Alexander. . .”

She knew what was coming before he said it. She put her hand to her mouth to hold back the sound that refused to come to her.

“Mrs. Alexander, your husband has been in an accident. He was working on a project dealing with a new fuel source and. . . there was an explosion. . . he ah. . . he ah didn’t make it. The damage to the part of the lab that he was in has collapsed a section of the building and we are having trouble getting to him.” He seemed to gain a little strength by getting it out finally but he still seems ill and on the verge of being sick himself.

Cain saw that his mother was in a state of shock so he ushered her to a nearby chair so she could sit before she fell.

They never found Jon’s body when they cleared the debris from the lab, but then again that section of the lab was leveled beyond searching it with anything less than heavy machinery. Their lives continued on, difficult at first but as the years passed things began to get back to normal. The two boys dealt with the loss differently. Christopher poured himself into his school work and had actually been promised a scholarship to MIT his junior year because of all his college prep classes he took during the summer.

Cain however, dealt with it far differently. He started hanging with the wrong people, he only joined the football team because Christopher said he would join if Cain did. Once he started football two years ago, he found his focus. He started working out every day and studying professional football teams and their plays. He wanted to be good at something that his brother couldn’t do. Their father had been intelligent and had taught at MIT for a year before he took the job at the Celitec Labs. He wanted to prove to his fathers memory that he could do something.

Today would be the day he learned just how he could better his brother. Just not in the way he or anyone else had thought.

Real Name: Katelin Tapenes
Age: 22
Origin: From Rubi-Ka in the year 29477
Powers: Martial Artist with Super Reflexes
Background:
Katelin’s mother was bred by the Omni-Tek corporation in the distant future to act as a courier in their mining operations on the remote planet of Rubi-Ka. Her mom taught her the basics of fighting without weapons as a way to defend herself in the rough and tumble mining colonies. In 29476, scientists discovered a “pocket” dimension, they called the Shadowlands. Katelin was drawn to sense of adventure and discovery that came with exploring this new land.

One day, after pushing back the creatures known as Hecklers which threatened to destroy the fractured Shadowlands, Katelin was ready to return home to Rubi-Ka. She stepped off the edge of the Shadowlands territory known as Scheol, expecting to be folded back in space near her home on Rubi-Ka.

Instead, she landed in Paragon City. She only had a moment to try to come to grips with her new surroundings before she was forced to duck a blast from a Rikti rifle. It seemed that she’d dropped into the middle of an invasion. A quick glance around showed that the alien invaders were fighting human defenders. While she was unfamiliar with where (or when) she was, this sort of thing was VERY familiar to her. Katelin jumped right in.

27,000 years of evolution, some genetic manipulation, and martial arts training made Katelin a hero in this world. After she helped with the defense of Paragon City, Katelin learned of her travel through time and space. Being a fairly practical minded girl, she’s decided to stay and make the best of her new surroundings.

One day, though, she hopes to find someone who can explain how she came to be here and why.