ResidentBaka

They probably wanted the badge.

You click a door, you're assaulted by a massive turkey.

If you manage to defeat it, you get a delicious inspiration that applies a mag 7 sleep a little while after you use it.

If anyone played Turok 64 they'd probably remember disco mode, so disco mode.


edit: SONIC VIBRATIONS: CREATE DESIRE: TO PARTY

I roll other classes just to delete them.

Whatever happens, I hope Will Smith is a contact who gives repeatable missions to kill them.

You guys need to stop interrupting the Clockwork King's roleplaying.

I want to be able to swap Aid Other/Self's little handheld doohickey for a buzzsaw so I can be the Meat Doctor I've always wanted to be.


fake edit: and tint the spray effect red

The best part of all of this is the fact that you only unlock the costume piece for the character you killed the 5,000 enemies on.

Man, I can't wait to roll up my new DP Blaster "Narcissus" and just sit in Silver Lake until I auto-logout

BAB put a razor in my apple

I think it would be pretty cool if, instead of a "Aim" power, the set had an "Overcharge" toggle that would boost the damage of all your Pulse Rifle attacks while also increasing their end cost. It would also cost a little end just to maintain the toggle.





Also, shooting Geodes should totally cause Pulse Rifle attacks to refract and become AoEs

Me and my team just finished the Villainside TF, and while it was a lot of fun, the last mission left something to be desired.

We had to farm 5th Column for 30 minutes before it was safe to tank Reichsman, and even then it took a long time to bring him down. Much too long.

After we completed it, we recieved all of 20 merits.

Still a fun TF, but honestly.








fake edit: By the way, since Reichsman has been frozen since before the game actually began to take place, shouldn't he only be level 40? Or did he just have that much patrol experience that knocking us out gave him 10 full levels?

[ QUOTE ]

What's a good job for a robot bent on world domination anyways?

[/ QUOTE ]

Politician

[ QUOTE ]

Holy Man

[/ QUOTE ]

Log off next to a Spines Warden

Is it as epic as your Avatar?

I know, I was shocked too.

[ QUOTE ]
-_O Wow...*hugs you* I am so sorry you had to...live through that...horrible...just HORRIBLE....gah....*sincere*

[/ QUOTE ]

It's ok, I thought it was pretty hysterical

And that last part reminds me of two kids playing cowboys and indians and one is saying "I shot you, you're dead!" And the other insisting "Nuh uh you missed!"

"Yeah huh!"
"Nuh uh!"

Poor Gwarr. He just wants to keep the world safe from the Scarven Inquisition and he takes so much flak!

My Advice?

Don't God Emote

Yeah, that's right. I used to write stories for my character in Planetside which were very well recieved. So I started writing some stories for Rixen (My Scrapper) and i was gonna post them here, but for some reason I couldn't log in. Big "Wrong Password Jerk! LOL!" thing i got from the site. But now, here I am! So now I deicded to post the first story and see how everyone liked it. It was basically Rixen taking his license exam for superheroing. And i guess he passed. Oh, and also, all of Rixen's though sequences were supposed to be in italic, so I'm gonna see if i can fix that now)

Ok, here we go!


Episode I

A Hero must always:
a) Protect those in need
b) Protect the highest bidder
c) Look out for their own ideals

Rixen tapped the pencil on the desk.
“Uh. A.” he muttered as he scribbled over the “A” on his test sheet.
This is so easy it has to be illegal, he thought.
What was the point of this test? Hero registration sucks. So far, Rixen had answered the eternal questions of whom to protect first in a disaster and what to do if he found himself outmatched. Another question came up:

You just caught wind of a bomb located in a packed convention center.

“I did?”

You have no knowledge of how to disarm bombs. What do you do?
a) Tell everyone to evacuate
b) Tell nobody of the encroaching threat and try to diffuse the bomb yourself
c) Contact a hero who has experience in this situation

Rixen sighed a little at the question, and wrote

d) Wait for the bomb to go off, and make s’mores in the resulting firestorm

Satisfied, Rixen took the completed test up to the proctor and was told to have a seat and wait for the results. Rixen sat, and looked around at the other applicants. There were about 15 or so, all testing away, hoping one day they could fight along “Statesman”, or “the Back Alley Brawler” or “the Delicious Jelly Donut”. Rixen folded his arms on the desk and slumped over. All that “thinking” made him tired. After about 20 seconds of milling about in his own mind, he fell asleep.

Someone prodding him in the shoulder soon awaked him.

“Nffguh?” he mumbled.
It was the proctor.
“Congratulations, Rixen, you passed the written exam! We’ll need you to come in next Tuesday for the rest of the registration process”
“Yeah, I’m all over that,” said Rixen.

To think, soon Rixen would be a registered [censored]-kicker! Tuesday could not come soon enough.

So here it is!

Rixen hobbled into the Registration Center. There was quite a line, it was like a DMV for superheroes. Rixen took his place in line and waited. And waiting. At some point during this waiting process, Rixen waited. Then he waited. Suddenly, he waited! Rixen looked down at a form in his hand. He was #257. He looked up at the counter.

3.

So Rixen waited. He waited like there was no tomorrow.

4.

15.

57.

100.

137.

200.

Finally, the counter read 257. Rixen had been waiting an hour. Even though it was pretty impressive to assist 254 Superheroes in the span of an hour, Rixen was getting incredibly impatient. He didn’t have the attention span for things like this. Rixen walked up to the counter.

“Hello there!” Said a cheery-looking Clerk. Everybody in here was in a different Costume, but the Clerks had a certain uniform they all wore. It was a gray costume with a badge on their chest. The shoulder pads would describe their rank. Rixen had no idea what the different ranked shoulder pads looked like, but this Clerk’s were a light blue with 2 dark blue bars on them.

“Hi, I’m here to—“ He started
“Register?” She interrupted him. “Name?”
“Rixen. R-i-x-e-n.”
She punched his name into the computer.
“Ah yes, here we go.” She said with a look of triumph.
She handed him a form. Rixen looked it over.
“Just fill this out and sign at the bottom, then I need a picture, then we’re done!”

Rixen picked it up and looked it over. It was a fairly small sheet, and only had areas for “Hero Name”, “Powers”, and “Description”. But then again, any other kind of information would probably be compromising to the hero. After all, Batman and Superman kept their real identities a secret, and Rixen… well, he just didn’t have one. Rixen was Rixen.

So Rixen scribbled down his information and handed back the sheet.
“Ok, now stand on that dot” she said.
Rixen did so.
“Ok, now look here” she said while pointing to a small dot.
Rixen did, and there was a bright flash from the camera on the desk.
“Let’s see… Perfect!”
She turned the monitor so Rixen could see.
“This is the picture that will be on your license. Do you like it?”
Rixen nodded.
“Good! In that case, we’re all done here! Just give us 20 minutes and you’re all set!”
This was good. 20 more minutes!

So Rixen found a seat.
“Hey you!” said a Blue-Costumed hero next to him.
Rixen turned.
“Me?”
“Yeah, man! You get your license?”
“Waiting on it. 20 minutes.”
“Nice! Congratulations! Hope we can fight together sometime. The name’s Blitz”
“Rixen. Nice to meet you.”
“Mr. Rixen?” Said the female clerk
“Yo!” Rixen shouted in response.
“All finished!”
“Good luck, man!” Said Blitz.
Rixen thanked him and went to receive his Registration card
“Congratulations, Rixen. You are now a Registered Superhero. We will call you soon with details of a training mission.”
“Awesome, thank you.” Said Rixen.

And then he was off.

“Dang.” Rixen thought while admiring his new card.

“This story had a really boring introduction.”

And to think, back then having two TVs was a Luxury :P

Well... Still is, to a lot of people.... Ok, having a Color TV was a Luxury