Fire_Guardian_EU

Chapter Two

B

TEMPLE

Christmas had come to Paragon, and with it, the sights and sounds of people rushing around, buying gifts, and pretending to be nice to each other, if only for a few days.

I strolled back from the Icon Tailors in Steel Canyon, where an obnoxious Frenchman had created my costume. I had decided on black armour, with a dark red flame motif. Since fire had burned me, I decided to have it etched onto my armour, as a…I suppose a sign of surviving it. The Frenchman, who insisted on calling me “Monsieur Tempelle” kept making the flames light, and easily seen. I, however, insisted they should be dark. It made me look more foreboding, as well as being harder to see at night. With a face-sock of the same shade of red covering my face, and dark yellow goggles with a black hi-tech looking helmet, I looked like a dangerous Hero. The tailor asked me if I wanted an emblem of some sort on the front of my armour, but I refused. I had no reasons to put a logo or emblem on my chest – I did consider a picture of a Coliseum, to represent a temple, but decided against it.

I pulled out a scrap of paper, and examined the address. 1161 Rankin Boulevard. Checking the street signs, I confirmed I was on the right road, and continued my stroll down to meet Emily. As I walked past the street sign, I was a bit surprised to see it embedded on the pavement, as opposed to being on a lamp-post, but, then again, it stopped vandals from stealing them. I mentally shrugged it off. It must be a tradition, or an old charter, or something.

Knocking on the door of the small house she lived in, I looked around, glaring at some gang members who were eyeing me up, presumably to see if I was an easy target. I held eye contact with the one who seemed to be the leader, until he backed down, and moved his men away. The door opened, and Emily peeked out from behind it, her eyes bright with confusion.

“Jay?”
“Temple.” I reminded her.
“Right, right. ‘Temple’. Of course. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to escort you to the party. Remember?”
“The…oh, right. Of course, the Christmas party at the Mayors mansion. Well…come in.” She swung the door wider, and I strolled through, taking everything in.
“I’m just…on the phone right now. Make yourself comfortable.” She gestured through to her living room, and I stepped in. Everything was either black or white, and I frowned at her taste in furniture. She must have caught my expression in a reflection, or something, because she sighed.
“What?”
“No, nothing. I just never figured you for such a…bland décor.”
“It’s Retro Minimalism.”
“The only thing that’s minimal here is the colour scheme.”
“Whatever.” She sighed again.
“Em. The phone?”
“Oh, right. I’ll be right back.”
She hurried out of sight, and I made myself comfortable on the couch. I looked, from my vantage point, at the mass of photographs Emily had put up, to remind her of home. Strangely, a lot of them featured me. There was one of the two of us sitting at The Jolly Roger, my head in her lap, and talking animatedly whilst she smiled down at me…I remember when Sammy took that photo, he told us that nobody would believe that it wasn’t staged. Another one showed the two of us sitting on the tyre swings in the childrens’ play area outside the pub. Next to it, in a small silver frame, sat a small black and white photo of us going over a script in the college cafeteria, our heads so low they were practically touching.

All of the good times from our relationship. I looked over, and saw one more, which interested me greatly.

It was a largish photo, taken in The Jolly Roger. The main subjects in the photo were Emily and Sammy. Emily was pushing Sammy away, whilst Sammy was laughing. Sammy wore, as usual, jeans and a t-shirt, but, from the clothes Emily wore, as well as the crowded pub, I gathered that this was from the night Emily left me. The charity event for those blasted soldiers. Out of curiosity, more than anything else, I looked for me. I didn’t take the photo, of that I was certain; in fact, I didn’t remember any time where Emily wasn’t by my side, apart from when I went out to get some air, and she decided to stick her tongue down Pete’s throat – and, even then, Sammy was with me. Unless I was in the bathroom, it didn’t make any…
Wait.

I looked over at the bar, and squinted. The crowd in the background was slightly blurred and out of focus, but a man there was looking directly at the camera, and smirking. Although he was wearing a black rollneck shirt and, from what I could see, jeans, he looked exactly like me. I don’t mean me, as I was two years ago.

I mean, down to the scarring on the face and right hand, which he held up, his thumb raised before him, he looked like me. Now.

Very strange, and somewhat un-nerving.

I picked up the photo, to get a better look, when Emily walked back into the room.
“Good photographs.” I grunted, quickly putting the photo back down.
“Good memories.” She countered. “Because of a good boyfriend.”
“Em…”
“Jay…‘Temple’…I’m sorry.”
“Forget about it.”
“No, I mean it. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I threw your love back in your face.” I felt her hand on my shoulder, and, for a moment, I felt like shrugging it off. However, I let it rest there.
“I kept your ring, you know.”
“Oh?”
“I put it on a chain, and keep it around my neck. I’ve never taken it off, either. It’s a reminder.”
“Of what?”
I heard her take a deep breath. “Of what I lost. And it reminds me that I shouldn’t look somewhere else for ‘The Next Good Thing’, when I have the best thing in front of me.”

I frowned, and Emily must have sensed it.
“Jay?” She whispered. “Don’t you want to see your ring?”
I didn’t move.
“Jason…look at me.”
I turned slowly, and stared at Emily. She was, indeed, wearing the ring around her neck; in fact, she toyed with it nervously. Not that I could blame her, as the ring, the necklace it was attached to, and a pair of black lace panties was all she was wearing.
“Oh, Jason…” She murmured, and wrapped her arms around me.

*

Later on, as we sat in the midnight blue limousine, Sammy between us, bouncing happily on his seat and twittering on about how this was ‘Just like the old days’, I caught Emily’s eye, as she smiled at me. I forced one back to her, and winked, and she looked away, out of the window, blushing. I sat back, deep in my thoughts, as I realised that Emily, for all her skill, for all her talent, and love, now meant nothing to me.

When we had made love, that afternoon, she seemed…different, to how I remembered. She used to be more…fiery, more passionate, and definitely more interested in taking control of the...er, situation. However, this time, she submitted to me, in every conceivable way. This was definitely not the woman I fell in love with so long ago. Something had completely changed her, and, to tell the plain truth, I didn’t care.

We pulled up to the mansion, then, and I popped open the door leading out to the red carpet. I stepped out, and instantly had to force a smile for the cameras and press standing either side of the red velvet ropes leading up to the mansion entrance. Emily came up to my side, and rubbed my hand gently, as we were mobbed by various reporters. Paragon City Fashion Network cameras (How prestigious), next to CNN, BBC Worldwide, Fox, MSNBC…it was certainly going to be given press.
“And this is the Mayoral Aide, Emily Campbell, accompanied by…by…”
Emily smiled at me evilly. “This is Jason Tucker, the owner of The Tucker Foundation, as well as the newest Superhero on the block, going by the name of Temple.”
I was stunned that Emily had mentioned I was Temple, on worldwide TV, in front of billions of people. The press, however, seemed more taken back that I had been outed as…
’I’m going to kill her.’
“Mr Tucker! Mr Tucker! Why are you suddenly coming forwards as January’s Wordwide Lottery winner? Is it…”
“What does this…”
“How do…”
“Where…”
“When did…”
“Are you here…”

Barraged by question, I turned to Sammy. “Sammy!” I hissed. “Distraction.”
“On it.” Sammy nodded, having started taking to calling himself my ‘sidekick’, and taking his self-imposed role very seriously. He jumped in front of me and Emily, and yelled. “Wait!”
The reporters were stunned into silence, waiting to see and hear what Sammy would do. I wasn’t totally surprised when he went into an intricate break-dance routine, leaving reporters staring, and allowed myself and Emily into the mansion without further incident.
Emily turned back to watch him. “What on earth is he doing?”
Without looking back, I shrugged. “The Robot.”

*

It was nearly midnight. Nearly Christmas Day, and the party was showing no signs of slowing down. I glanced over to where Sammy was dancing with a redheaded Heroine, whom Sammy had introduced as ‘Sarriss Groundwalker’, who seemed quite impressed with his ‘distraction’ from earlier, which I had found out had been broadcast on televisions throughout the mansion, including one or two by the bar.
It meant no end of dance interruptions for me, as Hero after Hero patted me on the back, to thank me for everything the Foundation had done to help out in Paragon, and quite a few…I realised I was starting to think of them as ‘civilians’, approached me, to meet the latest Hero in the city, or to tell me about how The Foundation had touched them. It was the first time I had ever been the centre of attention, and it’s no exaggeration to say I was the centre of it. Men watched Emily dance, and looked at me jealously, and the women wanted to know how Emily had ‘bagged’ herself a multi-billionaire philanthropist, as well as a Superhero. I was really quite flattered when a few heroines gave me their phone numbers, and made the discreet decision to not tell Emily about it.

All in all, it made me feel very damn good about Emily’s decision to announce my identity to the masses. It was a buzz that didn’t even go away when Emily and the Mayor double-teamed me into giving a speech in front of the assembled crowd.

Standing on top of the raised stage area, in front of the band, I glanced out to Emily, who had half an eye on me, and half on her watch. I shrugged it off, and began to speak.
“Fellow citizens of Paragon…”

That was as far as I got before the roof exploded, and men in black armour began rappelling down.

Corruptor had found me.

I liked the bit where my virtual memory crapped out on me. Luckily, I'll be fixing this in a week or so. I'm unsure whether to upgrade my RAM to something ridiculous, or buy a new computer. I saw a nice Pentium D with a gig of RAM and an nVidia card, all of which would be perfect for a new computer, so I could swap this one into a server...but it's spending £560 instead of £150...

The Experiment is always a lot of fun to play with, but the most horrible, most evil, and most deadly threat I've seen so far is Weasel in his Smoking Jacket and slippers.

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Nope

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If you have an obstacle, it doesn't have to metaphorically ride next to you while you drive. Let the obstacle take a back seat. Even if the stressful problem accompanies you on your journey, you can still drive, accomplish and be reasonably happy. You might have to yell at your problem from time to time: Shut up!

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Are you sure you're seeing correctly?

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...I need a kebab.

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Well, given your drunken state of mind it might not mean much but bad things do happen to bad people at least as often; but bad people tend not to worry themselves to death about it like good people do

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That's what I said! Isn't it?

...The topic is a lie. I'm drunk. But, since Bridger never checks the Creative thread anyomre, it's all good.

Impressed with my typing skills? You shoudl be. I'm the freaking master of drunken typing.

Why is it that bad things do happen to good people? I know, they happen to everyone everywhere, and it seems like bad things happen more to go9odo peoplrle,.....WOAH

It seems like bad things happen to good people more, probably just because...y'know...they're good people, and it seems more unfair. I mean, bad things happen to bad people. Otherwise, they wouldn't be bad, eight? It's all subjective.

Be impressed that I can spell "subjective" when inebriated.

So....waht's up ith that?

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Love the second song m8!
Are you gonna make more?
Maybe one with a tune to a Michael Jackson song? Like Thriller?

Thriller tune,but about kill stealers maybe?
Great song again!
Keep it up!

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Make more? Dear lord, the five billion I've made so far isn't enough?

Here we GO!

After many long months agonising over how to end this....I suppose it's officially an Epic now, really, I realised that the best thing I could do would be to take my mind off it, and do something entirely different. Enter 'Ask A Ben'. However, if you're one of the newer people to the forums, and are wondering exactly what it is I'm blathering on about, let me share something with you:

I'm many, many things. A comedian...of sorts. A film editor? If you can count a short clip of me rambling about a variety of topics 'film', then sure. An actor? Definately. A singer? Why, thank you, yes I am. However, first and foremost, I'm a writer. This story, The Dark Mirror, is the fifth story I've written about my erstwhile hero, Jason Tucker. If you're familiar with the trials and tribulations I've put him through, get stuck right in. Things are exactly how I left them. If, however, you either want to refresh your memory or meet 'FG' for the first time, then see the links I've provided. Either way, I'd recommend reading Reunion, just to get caught up on what's going on.

Story One: Into The Inferno
Story Two: The Flames Of Justice
Story Three: Bloodlines
Story Four: Reunion

This story, Dark Mirror, may see the end of my literary Fire Guardian. It's been far too long, and far too difficult, to get to the stage where I'm at now. I've run out of fresh new stories to tell about him, especially when you consider that this story has been in the making since before Into The Inferno. Everything that's happened so far has been leading up to this point, this story, and this particular tale is the climax to it all.

Maybe I'll write a prequel next. Everybody loves prequels, right?

Enjoy the story, and your feedback, as ever, is more welcome than a Freespec.

- Ben "The Fire Guardian" Fox, May 29th, 2006

--

Chapter One

C

TEMPLE/JASON

I sat down at the meeting table, gesturing for Sammy to do likewise. He sat next to me, and I held out my hand, waiting for this…duplicate of me who called himself ‘Temple’ to tell his tale.

“Jason,” He began, pulling out a chair opposite me, and steepling his fingers. “What do you know, exactly, about the Theory of Relativity?”
“Very little.” I shrugged. “It isn’t exactly a field of speciality for me.”
“For me either.” Temple shrugged, and grinned slightly. “Of course, I’ve had to learn, as part of my job.”
“Job?”
“Yes.” Temple nodded, and looked me right in the eye. I tried to suppress a shiver. It was a truly…disjointed feeling, looking at someone who looked and sounded just like you, but carried themselves in a way you never dreamt you would.
“I’ll get to that in a bit. Now, the Theory of Relativity, as we know it, is actually two theories, not one. General Relativity, and Specialised Relativity. The theory of General Relativity states that, for wont of a better way of putting it, that all matter in the universe…whether a particle of sand, a building…even you and me, this table, everything in this base, curves Spacetime.”
Sammy looked up. “Spacetime?”
“Spacetime is where all physical events take place, in a nutshell. One Spacetime area would be, say, the orbit of the Earth around the sun. Another would be, to make another example, Jason winning the lottery.”

I frowned. “So, how many of these ‘Spacetimes’ are there?”
“Oh, an infinite number. The really good part, however, is that you have to factor, into those Spacetimes, the fact that our presence…warps them. Curves them, and distorts them slightly. Each Spacetime is unique, and can’t be duplicated exactly.”
I was catching on. “Because…we can’t occupy more than one place at any one time?”
Temple smiled. “Exactly.”
“But you’re here.” Sammy frowned. “So you are occupying more than one place at one time.”
Temple shook his head. “In a purely genetic way, then yes, that’s certainly true. Both your father and myself share the same DNA…the same remarkable good looks.”
He chuckled, and I didn’t like the sound. He sounded far too pleased with himself. ‘Surely I’m not that vain.’
“However, on a Quantum level, we’re radically different.”
“A what?”
Temple sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “Well, now we’re getting to the heart of the matter. You see…without going too much into it, the Revised Theory of Specialised Relativity postulates that, just as there are an infinite number of Spacetimes, there are an infinite number of universes to contain them.”
Sammy and I exchanged a look, before I turned back to Temple. “You’re talking about Parallel Universes.”
“Yes, exactly.” Temple’s face, although never losing the smile, tightened somewhat. “And you said that you didn’t know much about the Theory.

“Suppose, my friends, that you could travel to other worlds. Journey to see alien civilisations, people from radically different cultures.

“Would you do it?”
I stared at him blankly. Part of me wanted to deny him this, yet…it intrigued me.
“Of course you would. Mankind has always been curious, ready to explore the strange and unknown at the drop of a hat. However, I’m not referring to the travel between stars, no crossing the great void known to us as space. The great unknown depths of the cosmos hold no real secrets, not even in a universe of limitless possibilities. There is no need to endanger yourself, wrapped in a ship make of steel and composites, surviving on recycled air and tasteless dried foods, of hooking yourself into an abominable apparatus which is part seat, part vacuum whenever you need to relieve yourself. I refer, instead, about the travel to different worlds inhabiting the same space as our own. Different dimensions. It’s a truly staggering concept.
“Suppose you could travel to an Earth in which the British won the war of Independence. What would have become of your precious Paragon City then, I wonder? Maybe it would still be there, named Parliamental City? Or maybe not. Or a world where the Rikti have taken over? I’m sure you’ve imagined such things. I’ve seen them. I’ve lived them all.”

Temple stood, and paced the floor, grinning. This was his favourite subject, I supposed.

“I’ve been to places where you can be homeless, or a king. I’ve been five minutes walk in one direction from here, and seen things of such glory, of such beauty, that they’d take your breath away. I’ve been five minutes walk in another direction, and seen things that would give you nightmares for the rest of your life.
“Imagine it. Infinite possibilities, right here, right now, invisible to you, and everyone you know. Most people don’t want to even concede the possibility of life on other planes of existence, but they’re real. As real as you or I. I’ve travelled these worlds, these dimensions, and discovered that there are only four constants. And, before you offer up the age-old phrase that ‘death and taxes’ are two of them, let me assure you, that I’ve been to places where nobody is taxed on anything, and places where people live forever. No, some things I’ve discovered are a lot more interesting to you and I.

“Did you know that, no matter what happens, there is always a Fire Guardian? The team of Jason Tucker and Sammy Edwards is never denied, both of them exist, in some form or another, throughout the Multiverse. Emily, too, is a constant. No matter where you stand, on whichever Earth you inhabit, The Fire Guardian and his friends are there, to stop wrong-doing, and live for truth, justice…all that stuff.”

I nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, but this seems like something out of a bad science fiction movies, yes. I thought these could only be created by someone travelling in time.”
“Yes, yes, and only, then, by someone driving a DeLorean up to 88 miles per hour.” Temple smirked. “Please, Jason, I live the life. I know whereof I speak.”
I nodded for him to continue. “Now, I am a part of a group in my Universe that…well, polices these Alternate Dimensions. The Guardians of Infinity, we’re called, and there was a very troubling sign coming from your Universe.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, it seems a Doctor Pendant, believing he jumped back in time to this point, tried to enlist the services of his past self.”
“Believed” Sammy’s eyebrows shot up.
“Yes. However, what he did, instead, was to open up a portal that not only sent him to a different time, but also to a different dimension…yours.”
“So…the Doctor Pendant that died recently, the time traveller…wasn’t actually from this Universe?”
“No. And it must have been a shock to him to discover that the Pendant from this reality wasn’t a Rikti collaborator.”

I thought this over. “So…Sammy isn’t my son?”
“Hey!”
“Actually…yes and no. Genetically, he’s your son. Mine, too. But, from a Quantum viewpoint, no.”

Sammy looked stunned. Temple ignored this, however, and took a breath. “Part of the problem remains, though.”

I found I couldn’t put up with these lies any longer. “Why did you kidnap my wife?”
“What?”
“Come on, ‘Temple’, I found your note. You took Emily.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“That note was written in my…our handwriting!” I felt my voice raise, and I let it. “You come here, you talk some [censored] about parallel universes, and you kidnap my wife?”
“Jason, Jason, Jason. She isn’t ‘your’ wife. Nor is she mine. The woman you’re referring to, right now, is a wanted criminal in four different realities. She’s a Supervillain known as Corruptor, who has killed both her own counterparts, as well as ours, in those realities. She’s amassed an incredible fortune by ‘our’ deaths that, if she decided she wanted it in paper money, and not in electronic accounts, would bankrupt this planet in a heartbeat. She targeted you for death, and, frankly, I’m sick of showing up just in time to watch coroners stuff ‘my’ body into a black plastic bag.”
“What?”
“It’s true.” Temple continued serenely, and pulled out a small handheld device, pressing a few buttons before sliding it across the table to me.
“This is the Quantum signature of the woman I took from your apartment. Check it against you own.”
I stared at the unfamiliar device.
“The button labelled ‘scan’?” Temple shook his head.
I pressed the button, and a second later, another pattern, like a wave-line from an oscilloscope, appeared on the screen.
“Now,” Temple said with maddening patience, as if he were addressing a small child. “Press the ‘Comparison’ button.”
I did so, and watched as the two patterns on the screen try to align themselves.

It failed.

“Happy now?”
“Hardly.” I grumbled, before sliding the device back to Temple, who picked it up and put it back on his belt with one fluid move, and nodded.
“Where’s the real Emily?”
Temple sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
“So, help us find her!”
“I can’t.”
I stared at Temple. “Why not?”
“Because, Jason, she’s probably dead.”

‘No, that isn’t…it can’t…’
“You’re lying.”
Temple had the decency enough to try to look sad. “I wish I were, for your sake. My own Emily…well, she was killed shortly after our wedding.”
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded once. “Well, then.”
“So, why are you here?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve got Pendant. You’ve got…Emily,” I bit back, “So why else are you here?”
“Oh, I just wanted to meet you. To explain the situation. You’d have done the same for me.”

I nodded silently, and Temple took that as his cue to leave. Standing up, he nodded back to me. “See you around, Jason.”
“Sure.”
Without saying another word, or even glancing at Sammy, Temple spun on his heels, and headed towards the Base exit.

When he left, and Sam confirmed the transport, Sammy turned to me, wide eyed. “Do you really think that Mum’s dead?”
“I don’t believe a word of what he told us. I’m going to find Emily…the one he has, and talk to her.”
“I’m coming with.”

Just like that. I started to argue, but Sammy’s expression, looking just like his mother, told me he’d brook no conversation.
“Okay.”

*

Temple pressed a button on his forearm, and held it up to his face. “Cain?”
“Yes?”
“They bought it.”
“Oh, good. So, the experiment will continue?”
“As planned.”
“Good work, Temple.”
Temple nodded, although his companion, Cain, could not see.
“And after we kill Tucker, and that dimension jumper he calls a son? What happens to his wife?”
Temple imagined he could see the smirk on Cain’s face.
“She’s yours, to do with as you see fit.”

“Good.”

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You're insane...

...the world could do with far more of that particular brand of insanity

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The sad thing is, with the exception of the actual words, it's a pretty authentic re-write of the excellent "We Beseech Thee", from Godspell (seriously, download it....by which I mean, buy the CD today. I don't condone downloading music at all). The 'instrumental' section that I recorded is actually missing some bits from the original song, purely because I got amazingly bored recording that section over and over - getting the timing to line up exactly on a multi-track section is irritating in the extreme, and every track I add on increases the background hiss. As a point of interest, I got this backing track after a lot of begging from the managing director of my theatre company (I convinced him I needed it as the main singer and creative director) because he has a bee in his bonnet about producing Godspell as a two man show - with myself and him as the two men. This is frightening in two different ways: one, he's a terrible singer (nice guy, and a hell of a poker player, but to say he's weak on the creative side of things is like saying I'm not too good at picking AT's/powers) and two, Godspell needs at least 14 people, with a good mix of men and women.

I'll be posting up the original song after I get back from work, if anyone's interested. OH! And be sure to tune in to Coin's spot tonight on Evo at 10. No real reason.

Just a quick note - I was unhappy with the first version, so clicking on the link now will have a newer version, with a few bits cleaned up, some added, etc - it generally sounds better.

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Blimey! You need to sort that desktop out!

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The sad thing is, I routinely clean my desktop at least once a week. It just grows back.

As for the Winamp skin...meh. I only ever use Winamp when I listen to the Dr Who commentaries, so I don't see much point in changing it.

Huzzah!

...That...was a nightmare. No more guest shots. Ever.

Since this may very well be my last day of freedom (and since I finally got the backing track I've been after for ages) I decided to throw caution to the wind, and do one more tribute song.

Can The Dev Team Hear Us

Can you hear the players call
Got this bug and it ain't small
Because I die when I fall
Can the dev team hear us?

In the game, we cannot play
Without shots going astray
Why'd the Issues get delayed
Can the dev team hear us?

(Chorus
Come sing about bugs
That give us a green sky
Come sing about bugs
We find with ATI
Come sing about bugs
Time to speak to a guy
Can the Dev team hear us?

LAG!
We need to ping Union
NERF!
We've got confusion
CLIPPING!
It's like an illusion
Can the Dev Team hear us?

INF!
I'm not getting enough
COSTUMES!
I want to strut my stuff
LEVELS!
I should be really tough
Can the Dev Team hear us

Chorus

Issue Seven's on its' way
And I really want to play
But the bugs will get their say
Can the Dev Team hear us?

Now I really want to see
A finished Recluse's Victory
But the bugs are hassling me
Can the Dev Team hear us?

(instrumental)

Grant us hope that we will find
A bit of in-game piece of mind
Even one bug would be fine
Can the Dev Team hear us?

(Chorus)

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Your a funny one ent ya.

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Definately.

Here's my First Ever Screenshot!
And my Latest Ever Screenshot!

That 'latest' screenshot? Brilliant.

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I dunno, in the wake of i7 and the nerf of toggle dropping, I'm beginning to believe we may actually see some proper Blasters who primarily deal in their primary powerset, as opposed to the smarter ones who don't handicap themselves and utilise a larger variety of available powers on the streets of Paragon. I know it sounds silly but...

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Re-Edited due to the pedanticity of teh forumites

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In any event, tomorrow should see the next AaB. Luckily for my viewers, I didn't particularly enjoy Recluse's Victory. Nothing wrong with it, but I don't generally like PvP. As of right now, I'm officially declaring a very disorganised updating schedule, due to certain events:

1) I started AaB as a 'boredom' project because I'm out of work. As of Friday, this should no longer be the case, which means less time.
2) I've changed driving schools, to a more aggressive school that pretty much guarantees I'll pass sooner. With my training time doubled, I'll have less time to work on AaB.
3) Something else has come up, which I can't talk about, or else my favourite man-bits are up for a roasting. It will be very cool for me, and for a lot of you guys after my part in this thing has finished. Until then (and I have no idea when it'll finish) things will be hectic for me, as I actually want to give this thing a LOT of my free time.
4) I really want to finish off Dark Mirror, and can't do that unless I'm in my 'writing' zone, and as things are, I can't get there if I'm busy with other things.

AaB's should be moving to a once a week slot (which is actually what I wanted in the first place) and I have several dozen questions to sort through. You can all congratulate a friend of mine RL for giving me 35 questions to answer in one episode...

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I dunno, in the wake of i7 and the nerf of toggle dropping, I'm beginning to believe we may actually see some proper Blasters on the streets of Paragon. I know it sounds silly but...

[/ QUOTE ]I know I won't be making one, blapeprs have always been, and will still be the ones with highest damage output.

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Werd.

I'll give you the fiver at Brighton.

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Edit: What is FG's secondary ability.. I'm guessing Energy Manipulation 'cos you mentioned powerful blaster melee earlier.. I'm only asking for the sake of knowing. Take it easy.

[/ QUOTE ]AR/Fire, no?

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Exactly right. The powerful melee I was referring to was a Power Thrust to the face, which is exactly how Zortel pwned me in the arena a few weeks back.

Aye, me too. Scheduling conflicts.

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Well, I'd like to stick my oar in as a Scrapper as I've not played that yet. If I can go in with Stase in Bravo, then I can do the Mondays; but Thursday's are out for me....so...I can probably do a little solo work to get back to level for Thursdays I miss

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Stas and Weasel are intent on ruining my long-standing stance on things like this, but what the hell. I'm in - got an interesting Defender concept.

It's good to know that I never bow to peer pressure. Ahem.

(this was the episode 15 I was talking about. The previous Episode 14 needs a lot more work done to it, and Empath's question is unanswerable, for now.)

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currently watching through the series too. Actually spat coffee at my monitor during episode 6. Curse you .

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You might want to avoid Episode 15. Due to timing issues, I had to make that early, and it's, far and away, the best one yet.

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We need teh upload cod3s! (in otherwords upload it now )

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Ahhhh.....no

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currently watching through the series too. Actually spat coffee at my monitor during episode 6. Curse you .

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You might want to avoid Episode 15. Due to timing issues, I had to make that early, and it's, far and away, the best one yet.

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Just watched them all .. first to last ...heh...very amused indeed! Yeah... I subscribed... **sigh** Where do I line up for my "loser" tattoo again?

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Ohh, that was you who subscribed? Mystery solved. Also...helllllllllllo, Nurse!