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I just wanted to post this again. I think it was lost within one of the ED threads after a lot of people were rallying against ED and the GDN.
This was originally posted by Luminara and it just really put into words how I want to feel when I become my "Superhero". Honestly, I don't really feel that way on most toons, really only my stone tank. The nerfcalls for Granite have already started so who knows how long that will last. My very first serious toon started 18 months ago a Fire/Fire Tanker still wallows at 45 and will probably remain there, not even really a "hero" anymore...
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A young Dark Miasma/Dark Blast defender was patrolling Paragon City late one night when a call came in from another hero, asking if she would be willing to join a small party on a high security mission. Elated at the opportunity to prove her worth to the hero community, do deeds worthy of note, and experience something truly challenging, she streaked off through the darkness, risking certain death along the way through the perilous Founder's Falls zone, and walked into the building with her head lifted and determination bolstered. The sight that greeted her was something the likes of which she never witnessed again, and it left a mark so profound that she was forever changed.
There, in the midst of a score of steam-driven machines and soldiers in antiquated uniforms, stood a man, unlike any man she'd ever seen before. Bullets shattered on his skin, fire rolled off his muscled frame, and blow after blow rebounded from his body as he stood defiant amidst the enraged villains, his fists cracking jaws and sending his enemies to the floor in boneless heaps, spraying bits of shattered machinery across the room. His friend, a curious man with powers of great control, smirked as he watched the battle rage, occasionally lifting his hand to still an unruly enemy or steal away their strength and will to fight, all the while pointing out weaknesses and giving advice, and cracking wise, to another young woman who stood at his side, eyes so wide that they looked ready to leap from their sockets.
As she stared, dumbfounded, the smiling hero tossed the last of the crowd of now defeated soldiers to the floor, gave her a brilliant smile, and said, "Come on, sidekick, let's go have some fun."
Following along, the young woman slowly began to realize that her presence here wasn't necessary, it was a gift, a hand of kindness extended from a hero she'd never met before. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she realized that what he and his friend had done. She and the other girl were there not to assist, but to learn, to benefit from these great mens' knowledge and experience, and to see what awaited them in the future. Some would later suggest that their presence was simply to put the word out on the streets and force the enemies they were facing to send in additional troops, but had that been the case, there would've been no need for the young heroines to even attend this raid. No, this was something far more noble in intention and design, an opportunity for the girls to experience a taste of their future in Paragon City, and they relished every moment of it.
With the abandon that only the greatest, or most foolish, of heroes know, they four tore through the installation, laying out one group of enemies after another along the way, determination leading them onward. As they stepped into a room, a group of a dozen of these curious robots and soldiers descended upon them, then half again more, and the air grew thick with the sounds of violence. Caught unawares, the small team found themselves nearly overwhelmed, the tall man rapidly losing strength and the other three fiercely defending themselves. Desperate, knowing that the tide could turn at any second, the young defender reached out and made a final grasp at one of the soldiers, reaching not for his weapon, but his soul, and tore away enough of its essence to revive the failing group. The tall man suddenly straightened, his eyes clear and his wounds healed, and cocked her a flashing smile as he turned the tide of the battle, a quiet and simple gesture of appreciation, and acknowledgement of her act of heroism. Startled and still locked in combat with one of the soldiers, she stumbled back, and inadvertantly attracted the attention of another squad in the adjoining room.
Within the space of five heartbeats, the girl hit the floor, feeling the life bleeding out of her, and another score of brutal machines and uniformed thugs swooped down on the tall man. Struggling to keep her eyes open, she locked her gaze on him, and nearly slipped into the blackness when he threw his head back and let out a primal scream, suddenly seeming to grow even taller and more imposing, and stood like a rampart as the waves of villainy crashed over him. Single-handedly, he ripped apart the horde, destroyed every machine and felled every man, and it was at that moment, finally, the girl knew what it meant to be a hero. He had not been beaten, despite overwhelming odds, willing to fight the very darkest and most vile that the universe could throw at him to save his friends.
In the worst moment, the tall man had summoned up all of his strength, stood even taller, and ripped victory from the jaws of defeat, saving them all.
Two weeks later, a hero new to the city, a young girl by the name of Alice, but who called herself The Black Whip, heard a distress call. A team of heroes had gotten in over their heads and were facing certain destruction. Rushing across the Hollows, heedless of the dangers that surrounded her, the Black Whip went to aid these noble heroes. Upon her arrival, she had to stop for a moment to take in the situation. Deep in a cavern, dozens of Superadine-enraged trolls had gathered, guarding a case of the hideous drug and fighting amongst themselves. The troupe of heroes had gone there to confiscate the illicit substance, but soon realized that they were outmatched and outmanned by the horde they faced. But as she cast her gaze across the seething mass of Trolls, the Black Whip knew they were no match for her. She could withstand their assault, she was certain, and give this motley assortment of super-powered people a chance at victory, as a tall man had once done for her friend, a dark defender.
Courageously, the dominatrix leaped into the throng of Trolls, running from end to end in the cavern, until the entire lot of them were gathered around her, wildly swinging fists and shrieking in rage. The Black Whip, elated, encouraged them, hurling insults and epithets as she flung one blow after another... and the heroes stood at the entrance, stunned into silence at her fierce determination and astounding ability to withstand the brutality that engulfed her. One by one, they shook off their shock and joined the battle, until minutes later when they all stood, gathered around the young woman, shaking her hands and praising her for her bravery and remarkable resiliance, all save for the single coward who fled the moment she first dashed in, heedless of the danger.
And that evening, when each of those heroes departed for their secret homes, they carried within them an inspiration, a dream to one day be a great hero, a superhero, like the Black Whip, who had, herself, been inspired by another's greatness.
I relate this story not to bore the readers, or chastise Cryptic, but to remind everyone that there was a time when heroism abounded in Paragon City. There was a time when we could do great and amazing things, when playing this game truly felt like playing real heroes, and when we inspired others to rise to their ultimate heights. But after the changes in the name of "balance", those times have grown fewer and farther between. The tall man in the first part of the story was an invuln tank, one who I never will remember the name of, but who impressed and inspired me so greatly that I felt, for the first time, like I really was playing a game about superheroes, not just an RPG with a different face on it. I created The Black Whip as a tribute to that inspiration and wonderful, exciting chance to be a "real" superhero, and I got the opportunity to pass along that remarkable feeling to others many times afterward.
I implore you, Cryptic, give us back our heroes, our inspirations, our role models. The changes implimented in Issue 5, and the coming "Enhancement Diversification", serve only to turn those memories of profound wonder and awe into faint and fading remnants of something that was once good and pure. Repeal the taxes you've buried our characters under, restore the shining examples of heroism to Paragon City, because THAT is what the city truly needs. Not balance, especially not a broken balance that sacrifices regular gameplay to the god of PvP, but feelings of power and greatness, like we used to have.
The drive for "balance" is ofttimes a decent and noble goal, but heroes need to feel heroic, and "balancing" the game overall in favor of player versus player combat takes the heroism out of it. Player versus player combat is a specialized thing, different from regular gameplay, requiring a different kind of balance. When you weaken one power to "balance" it for PvP, you create a greater imbalance in one or multiple other powers in the regular game, and it only harms us as a whole.
Please, let the balancing act end. Let the heroes of Paragon City stand tall, proud once more, as they fight to preserve life and liberty for its citizens. Allow our tankers to feel like tankers again, our blasters and scrappers to shine gloriously, and our defenders and controllers to do battle with their heads held high again and not merely buffbots and control automatons. Let our heroes be heroes, not shadows of a bygone era.
We, the players, love this game not simply because it has some interesting powers, but because it allowed us to become great heroes, to share in the times of greatness in Paragon City and amongst our teammates, and to inspire others to those staggering heights. We understand your goal of letting each player feel "useful", but it detracts from the true underlying attraction of the game, that of feeling unique, special, and truly noteworthy. We, as players, don't select "weak" characters out of masochism or a desire to be "fixed", but for the opportunities to play as heroes and experience new things, to rise to greatness in different ways and along different paths, and because each of us has a different idea of what it means to be "super", and a hero. Weakening all heroes to create a baseline ultimately detracts from the glory and wonder that being a hero means to all of us.
We beg of you, end the balance, before it ends the game.
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Pinnacle
Black Whip - 50 Vulnerable/SS tank
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That was beautiful.
That's odd. That's the second time my uncle has been mentioned in a post today.