Gall_

Hmmm okay I hate you all now, I want a Magic character now! Grrrrrrr

Okay ummm to reiterate...

What is your theory on magic, RW? That existence is a big probability equation that magic can "alter"?

Yours Brit?

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I was talking about the physical construction of humans. Unless he is no longer humanoid and runs on all fours (with altered arm lengths) then he isn't going to be able to run at anything like supersonic speeds.


[/ QUOTE ] *wishes that was a costume option!*

Hmmm I bet Hoplite couldn't pick me up tho :P

Kinda reminds me of Dr. Manhattan....now he was cool!

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I failed to Float the Fat Man: Brighton Feb 2007

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How? By pushing him in a river?

Either way were he to lose control of himself the Earth would implode into him....

*wonders if Shadowe is ticklish* Mwaahahahahahah

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Considering the earth is 924,375,700 km in orbital circumfeance he is more likely traveling at about
40190247. 82 km per second :P

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Uhoh pedantry alert!

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There are more or less no realistic characters in this game.

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Or in the superhero genre. Realism has to be left at the door, but game mechanics aren't. Take fly for example. In comics, flyers tend to fly at speeds approaching Mach 1 or more, but in game they tend to cruise around at around 70mph? One way to justify this would be to say the city had imposed flight speeds following some sonic boom related incident. Maybe a previous flyer flew past Statesman's window at mach 2, spilling his coffee over him...you get the idea. Silly I know but hey.

I avoid magical characters unless I can think up a new, interesting slant on them. For me superheroes are best when they're born different eg Mutant, get their powers from an external source eg radioactive blast eg Science, or are simply paragons of human skill eg Natural. But that's just my own feelings towards my own characters. I've encountered loads of Magic based characters who were excellent eg War Crow, Stargazer, Memory but it's just not my bag. Think I'm more Silver Age focused :/

heh...

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/Pendant.


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/pedant

Hmmm I might reconsider

((Apologies for lateness, Set during the other interviews.))

Redsight sat earnestfully awaiting his turn to be called into the interview room. He kept his hood and mask on along with his vestments he wore whilst hunting criminals. A small grl walked past the hooded figure, happy that the PPD had found her dog. She glanced upwards into his face and screamed as his eyes caught the light, reflecting an unnatural red light back at her. Tutting with disgust her mother gave him a look that would kill given enough time and hurried her daughter and her dog away.

"Redsight? You can come in now."

Standing he pulled his hood down revealing the mask and those red, inhuman eyes he usually kept hidden.

The officer stammered, "Th-th-this way sir."

"Thankyou officer."

He was led into a brightly lit room, a feature that was hurriedly dimmed by the guard when the light was found to only accentuate his crimson gaze.

"Please take a seat, Redsight. This won't take long."

Redsight smiled.

"Shoot."

The interview began.

"Are you a licensed hero?"

"Yes."

"Are you a member of the Militia?"

"Most of the time."

"Are you aware of any vigilanteism within the Militia?"

"Not that I've "seen." His words hung pregnant with double meaning on the closing word. "Seen."

"Are you aware of any criminal activity within the Militia?"

"No."

"Do you know the whereabout of Sabrina San?"

"Haven't even met her, is she pretty?"

The officer groaned.

"If you were ordered to apprehend Sabrina San, would you obey?"

"If she's pretty, sure."

The officer sighed.

"There's just one other thing we need you to do for us. We've got a tracking device we'd like you to wear and these lenses to record everything you see."

"The tracker I'll wear. Lenses are a no for two reasons, one they'll interfere with my "vision". Two you wouldn't be able to understand what you were seeing."

At that he stood, pulling his hood back over his head.

"Can I ask you something personal?" The officer's face was softer then, an expression that looked misplaced amongst the harder, weathered features of his face.

"Sure."

"What's the deal with your eyes?"

"Ask me another time. Maybe I'll tell you. Detective?"

"Greggs. Thanks for your time, Redsight."

He nodded before walking out onto the street.

I found smoke grenade to be pretty poor tbh :/

Lamb walked in, herded to his seat by an armoured officer. The overall effect, he mused, was to intimidate the Militia's more militant agent. He grinned at the thinly veiled threat, his scar wrinkling as the grin became a cheeky smirk. A second officer sat facing him, dressed casually in an open shirt, his tie crumpled on the table between them. Lamb unbuttoned his black suit jacket, unfastening the cuffs of his sleeves before taking the armoured cop's offered seat.

"Please, Mr. Lamb. We only want to ask you a few questions. I'm sure you want this over with. I mean, a man with your background...." The interviewer paused as if cursing himself for raising the issue of Lamb's history.

"I don't see what business that is of yours." Lamb grunted.

"Well yes...shall we begin?"

"Knock yourself out." Lamb sat back, fingers resting on his lap, his legs crossed in a relaxed pose.

"Okay, I'm going to ask you a few questions. You are to answer yes or no. We don't require any other comments."

"Are you a licensed hero?" He offered the first question as if warming up.

"Yes."

"Are you a member of the Militia?"

"Yes."

"Are you aware of any vigilanteism within the Militia?"

"No."

"Are you aware of any criminal activity within the Militia?"

"No."

"Do you know the whereabout of Sabrina San?"

"No."

"If you were ordered to apprehend Sabrina San, would you obey?"

Lamb looked up from under his eyebrows at the question. He smiled then. The officer sighed.

"If you were ordered to apprehend Sabrina San, would you obey?"

"Maybe."

"Yes or no, Mr. Lamb."

"Maybe."

Mr. Lamb this isn't a game you can win. We are aware of your actions as a member of Red Cell. But I'm sure we don't need to remind you. You're a wealthy, intelligent man, Mr. Lamb. Please reconsider your answer carefully.

"If you were ordered to apprehend Sabrina San, would you obey?"

Lamb feigned a yawn before nodding with his eyelids.

"Good. Thankyou for your time. Until this is all resolved we require that you wear a tracking device and videolenses. For your security of course." The officer placed two cases on the table. From one he took a small container which when opened revealed two hermetically sealed iris-cams. From the other a shiny, hi tech tracking clip that he quiockly fastened to Lamb's calf.

"The lenses are easy to "install". He leaned forward, motioning for Lamb to put them in.

Lamb did so. Then sat back.

"You're free to go, Mr. Lamb."

"One thing."

"Yes?"

Lamb looked at both officers, his scarred right eye glinting with malice. The look said it all as he stood, walking to the door.

"I'll be watching you." He growled before walking out.

The interviewing officer looked suddenly pale before clearing his throat and straightening his files.

Outside Lamb opened the trunk of his car. Taking a small bug like device from the car he attached it to the tracker and switched it on. Satisfied that his movements would be masked he climbed into the car and drove off.

Yeah s'pose. I'll give them a shot Kinda wanted a debuff animation where the mobs either clutched their heads in agony or threw up due to sound induced nausea thus rendering them held

Am I the only one that thinks Sonic Blast should inherently have KB? I mean you're hit in the chest by a blast of sound, surely there'd be some kinda knockback?

The defence set feels alot like a retconned FF set imo. I'll give it a shot tho, see if I like the feel. If not, it'll be a Sonic Blaster Thanks a lot Xanthus Really helped

I've been toying with a concept for a Sonic/Sonic Defender and wanted to hear people's opinions on them?

Uhhh Redsight is blind. He's an expert archer and utilises a number of pocket sized gadgets to aid him in battle. He holds a blackbelt in Shotokan Karate but realises his skill is minor in a city full of ninja, kung fu masters and expert martial artists and therefore seeks to learn more.

Did I say he was blind? Yeah? Well he is. Except his blindness stems from a childhood accident involving a nasty chemical spill, which blinded him to everything EXCEPT the various frequencies of the Red light spectrum incl Infra Red. He has since learned to use this to his advantage and his bowmanship has in fact improved as a result.

I'm toyng with an Archer at the mo' what's the redraw rate for Archery/Devices like?

GRATZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“So. You working or just looking to relax a bit, Hobbs?”

“Both. Got something on, just needed to unwind a little. Figured you could help me out.”

Rosie nodded, an invisible gesture separated the crowds as the band had an intermission. Downing my glass I poured another.

“I’d hoped Erin would be around. You seen her tonight?”

What’s that saying? Speak of the devil and up he comes? Well Erin never was one to disappoint. Rosie grinned as I finished my question, tipping her glass towards the bar. I turned slowly, blocking out the increasing scents, sights and sounds as the crowd became a rabble again, growing impatient with the band.

Erin hunched at the bar. She was pretty, she could even be beautiful if she didn’t hide under the Gothic make-up and the permanent sneer. Her raven-black hair hung, shimmering under the bar lights, ribbons of dark, scarab blue running through the length. She gulped from the Bud, taking in raking, false gasps between mouthfuls. It detracted from her looks even more. But then I wasn’t looking for a date with her. I kissed Rosie’s cheek.

“Be right back Rosie. Don’t go away.”

I knew Rosie would wait. We’d grown pretty close in the last few years. Her peers would frown upon the very notion of us being together. Couldn’t sully her name by seeing a street level detective, not even casually. I didn’t mind. When you’re brought in at the bottom you learn to steel yourself against the insults. And the beatings only seemed to strengthen me.

I nodded at the barman, the expression telling him to match my drink with Erin’s.

“Hey there Butterfly!” I spoke softly, leaning towards her.

Had anyone else called her that they’d spend the next few hours on the floor or worse. Luckily Erin took it on the chin when I was around.

“Float like a butterfly, sting like a b...”

“Bullet?” I grinned as she turned to face me.

“How’re things Erin? You’re looking surly as always.”

“Oh can’t complain Hobbs, can’t complain. I see you’re still dating that dilettante. When you going to find yourself a real woman Hobbs, huh?”

She had never liked Rosie. Though I could never understand why. A woman thing I guessed.

“That an offer Erin? You think you’re woman enough for a tough guy like me?” She knew it was a joke. Just as I knew she could punch me across the bar before I could blink. She wouldn’t though.

“In your dreams Hobbs. In your dreams. So what’s the deal? You on a job?”

“Sorta. Had hoped you’d be around tonight. Could use the muscle in case things get rough. You game?”

“Rough huh? Oh Hobbs, you know I like it rough.” She curled her tongue mockingly. I just smiled, Rosie was on my mind big-time.

“Yeah Erin I know. Ok here’s the deal. Carne is looking for something, he’s paying top dollar for me to find it. But my nose tells me there’s trouble nearby. I might need to call for back-up. 30k sound fair?”

Her eyes lit up. “30k huh? Must be something nasty if you’re that worried about it. Sure Hobbs, just give me a time and a place. I’ve got your back.”

I tapped my bottle against hers, I was hardly going to risk a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks Erin. You take care now ok? I’ll see you around.” The slap on my back as I turned almost floored me. Her harsh laughter made me laugh rather than lash out.

“Yeah you too Sam. Watch out for that step.” She smiled uncharacteristically warmly. It looked good.

“It suits you Erin.” I smiled back, patting down my shirt.

“What does?”

“The smile.”

“Yeah bite me.” She replied sardonically.

“Maybe next time.” I replied, swigging another mouthful of the crude beer.

Rosie was waiting patiently. Erin was fun, she was solid. But tonight I was looking for something a little smoother.

I’d left Rosie sprawling over the sheets. A look of sheer satisfaction creased my face just as clearly as the wanton expression on her own. We’d spent almost the entire night enjoying each other, and it had even stretched onto the following day. I was exhausted, not physically, but certainly mentally.

The taxi dropped me off outside my apartment, the dust trap I always left invisibly along my doorstep had been disturbed. Not that anyone would see it without lenses. I pulled Benny’s .38 and stepped slowly into my hall.

The faint, dying sound of “The Cure” drifted from my bedroom. It was accompanied by the darkly sweet smell of hashish. I shook my head before holstering the revolver. The smell mingling with that of evaporating bourbon.

“Hello Erin. Nice of you to drop by.”

She didn’t move. I guess the alcohol had hit her harder than she’d expected.

“Wakey wakey sleeping beauty.”

Erin rolled over, sleepily looking at me through her tangle of black curls.

“Well hello there Hobbles. Finished eating Rosie-Petals?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Yes thanks. You dining alone again?” She just growled drunkenly.

“No man is man enough to eat me Hobby hoss. So don’t get ideas.”

I must admit, lying there, her hair tousled over her face and shoulder. Her pale skin shining from under all that black. She did look sexy.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Erin. Don’t think you could take the strain.” I smirked, pouring the remnants of the Jack D into her glass, downing it with a sneer.

“Budge up Erin. I need sleep.”

I felt her press into my back as I lay on the bed, the sheets clinging to my skin.

I couldn’t help myself. Yes she was rough, even crude at times. But from time to time she would surprise me. Maybe she was badly treated in the past. I didn’t know, and I wasn’t going to ask. If she wanted to tell me someday I knew she would.

I figured being an Thorn familiar he’d be pretty tough-skinned. Thankfully I was wrong. I clubbed him with his .38 and dragged him into the alley. It took me a while. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no superman in the strength department. But the Tarnish granted me a bonus here and there. Finding a rope that looked strong enough was the next problem. Tying it to Benny’s legs and suspending him from the rooftop was problem number three.

The scream as he woke up made the effort worth it.

“Wait! Wait! Pull me up! Come on man!”

I shook the rope, just to tease him obviously.

“Okay Benny-boy. I know you know Nestor. And I know that this rope doesn’t look too healthy. So let’s say we cut to the chase. Where is he?”

“Honest man, I don’t know. He was here earlier but...”

The rope creaked with the strain.

“But?”

“I’m tellin’ you man! I dunno where he is!”

“Why did he come see you then Benny? To make up for lost time?”

He was blubbering now, the wetness had returned to his pants, but now it crept towards his shirt.

“Okay, okay! I gave him a place to crash! But that’s all I know. I swear man, now pull me up! Please!”

“Awww Benny. Don’t you want to see how high you bounce? Give me the address and you can go.”

He stammered the address, the rope jerking made him speak more clearly. He wasn’t lying. At least I knew that much.

Pulling at the rope, I dragged him bawling onto the tarmac roof.

“Thanks Benny. You’re a pal. If Nestor asks, I’ll be sure to tell him how helpful you were. Don’t be a stranger.”

I walked towards the maintenance door, climbing down the steps until I hit ground level. Dragging his fat, be-hind had left me thirsty.

I decided to clear my head a little and in my humble opinion the best way to relax is to take in a show at Rosie’s. When I say show, I don’t mean theatre or any suchlike. Rosie’s was a bar, well a club really. The place attracted everyone for miles around. Mutants, norms. It didn’t matter who you were at Rosie’s.

The chalkboard outside said a live band was playing, not that that was uncommon. The name said Lament, or Anthem. Usual flowery Gothic stuff I expected. I pushed open the doors, my senses sweeping the room as I nodded at Rosie.

Rosie was pretty easy going, and even easier on the eyes. She had the hourglass figure, the eyes that could cripple you with a glare just as quickly as enamour you to the point of obsession. Her bobbed, black hair would bounce as she worked the bar. She returned my smiles as I pulled up a barstool.

“Good evening Hobbs. Usual?” I nodded, folding my coat on the bar next to me.

“Sure Rosie. Busy night again I see. What’s the band tonight?”

She handed me a glass. Scotch, water. Glenfiddich was my poison.

“They’re called Lamenth. Pretty good from what I heard. Place is crawling with Goths though. Wait a sec, I’ll be on a break soon. We can talk then.” She smiled, her glittering green eyes brightening as she joked with her audience. I couldn’t help but notice however, that her “gifts” now attracted other eyes. Turning with my drink and coat I saw them watching from their vantage points. A few men, even a few women, sat or stood admiring the classic looks of the club owner. Grinning I took a table out of the light and waited for the band to come on.

The band were certainly a motley crew. They all looked waif-like under the harsh spotlights. A young Asian boy, holding a guitar came out first, plucking his strings as he warmed up. As he entered a series of melodies the rest appeared. The lead singer, a young girl, stepped out swaying dreamily to the choral sighs of the guitarist. The bassist standing by her side was a sudden and stark contrast among the others. Bull-necked, she stood like an ebon goliath, her shaven head gleaming with sweat. As they started harmonising the drummer piped up, giving the proceedings a backbone. I flinched as the initial crash of discord sailed out. Soon smiling again as the girl singing became bathed in yellow light. Her pouting lips giving her a sultry, breathless voice as she sang about love’s indiscretions, of faerie dust and hopeful rust.

I found myself enjoying the songs, wanting to hear more as each song ended. I barely noticed Rosie sit next to me as the guitarist took centre-stage.

“Told you they were good.” Her voice caught me off guard, spinning my head I smiled.

“Yes, yes you did. Strange that I’ve never heard of them. The crowd approve that’s for sure.

The club was packed. The majority now swaying in front of the band, captured by the hooks and riffs. Mesmerised by the words, now sung by the Asian kid.

Rosie poured another glass, one for herself, one for me. The bottle was nothing you’d see stocked. Blue glass, embossed with silver filigree. Her own personal supply of blood-laced Scotch. I toasted her before sipping from my glass, the harshness of the whisky offset by the purity of the water. The kid singing entered the last chorus of his song, straining I decided to actually listen...

“wasn't so.
"too quick for you"
was the phrase you used,
guess you were right.
Too slow witted for my heart to move...”

The crowd exploded as he drifted to silence.

“La Trattoria. Benny the Shark.”

I muttered...Shark huh? Wonder if he has teeth.

Pocketing the note, I took a left on 53rd and within a few blocks the dingy, grease-painted sign came into view. Even from across the street I could tell the place was crawling with ‘roaches. I stood watching the front of the restaurant, and the service doors in the alley beside it. My leather and scarf making me invisible, well at least hard to spot with an untrained eye.

As I watched, a tall unkempt figure emerged from the alley. He looked just about diseased enough to be a Lost I smirked. But he wasn’t the man I was looking for. Another hour passed and finally my quarry emerged.

Benny stood just over 5’. He was frankly grotesque. His hair almost completely gone leaving strings of greasy blackness running over his ears. His face was squashed, like he’d boxed in his past but had always lost. And he had a beer gut that would have made even the most basic of human functions look obscene. I watched as he crossed the street, bringing him nearer to my spot, then as he passed me I spoke up.

“Hi there Benny.”

“What the Fu..?” He spun angrily, if he’d been closer he might have pistol-whipped me, but he obviously thought his empty gun looked impressive.

“That’s no way to greet a friend, Benny.”

He spat.

“Listen friend, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll beat it!”

Benny was a Thorn wannabe, and I mean was. Vierge had explained that Carne had ruined Benny’s patron. Left him looking like last years road kill. However, for all his rat-like features, Benny didn’t scare easily.

“Well I know your gun is empty. And I also know you know Carne.”

He stammered, not enough to be taken advantage of, but it was a start.

“I dunno who you’re blabbing about. And it’s Shark, not Benny.” He stepped closer, trying to see my face.

Mentally casting a shroud spell I was happy to oblige the rotund, fleabag. I felt the image rather than saw it. The spell, tainted by Tarnish, sent a mental snigger vibrated through my skull as whatever face it had shown him did the trick. I could smell the contents of his bladder snaking down the inside of his pants.

“What are you? What do you want?”