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I would love it if there were an option to create a floor [acessed by elevator] in which each SG member had their own room.
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I opened up a 9x9 recr room and used raised/lowered floor/ceilings, and steps, blue hanging files to create a little apartment complex... sure it's not totally enclosed, but it's enough to pretend. I've been told it's pretty impressive.... 9 separate "personal quarters" 4 of them for 2 or 3 people each, a kitchen, and a living room. -
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Fine... have it your way. For over a week blaster were posting about it and we were ignored... again...
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Except we weren't since Castle posted on it. He never promised an immediate fix, though, and said they were looking into it.
So please knock off the pity party. You are making the rest of us blasters look bad.
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And Defenders! Don't forget us poor, lonely electric defenders... crying in the dark over our lost endurance drain.
Seriously, I just want it fixed. -
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Drac is a cuddly, wuddly teddy bear and everyone should give him a big hug.
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Gotta catch me 1st...
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There's always a catch, isn't there? -
Hi there! Welcome!
I play on Virtue, Liberty, and Pinnacle! There are friendly folks to be found on all three.
In addition to the suggestions my fellow RP'ers and Whitmoore writers have made, allow me to suggest one more....
Check out the server forums for these three servers, see what's written, what the "core" community is like.
And above all, have fun! -
All good advice, and most of it better than mine!
It's the humanity that makes the hero. -
As Mithril says. Read. Read more. See what works.
Effort went into all of these stories. Imagination, passion, talent, and drive....
Several of the writers (like Yydr and Mithril) have links in their sigs to pages that show how-to or give rules.
Start small. Ask advice. Work your way up. Don't be surprised when you're not welcomed immediately, especially if you've blown it in the past.
Trust has to be earned. Distrust has to be lived down. You've got a lot to live down. -
Hugs... I mean, um, curses to Drac and Hidden Demise. I'll get you two, yet! There's a cell in the Zigg with your names engraved on the bunks!
((Never been stalked with so much class as when faceplanted by those two.)) -
Yay! I can now make and play a Dark Armor character!
(I tried.... once... have shunned the powerset in migraine-induced horror since) -
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Just wanted everyone to know that we are planning changes to reduce hospital camping. I'm not going to say it will never happen, but we should be able to cut it way down.
I don't have an ETA at this point (holiday season and all).
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If its not a big huge bubble around the hospital that just melts and/or repels all opposing forces, then whatever else you try won't work.
[/ QUOTE ] Mabey a Teleportation/Stealth dampening field, cutting the range/effect to 1/10?
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How about just making the hospital a "No villain/hero" area. Physically unable to enter? Or better, insta-kill with DEBT. -
Yes, there are a few of us (that I know of).
Sentinels of Liberty
We RP. And we're heroes. :-) -
The incredible leaps, faster-than-normal speed, completely missing trip mines, jumping out of caltrops of mobs has been a problem for a LONG time.
NOW it is getting fixed?!? I'm grateful, really, I'm just wondering why the 16 months we COH players have been complaining about it weren't good enough, that it took COV to get some action on this. -
CHARACTER NAME: Penny Streeto AKA Priss-Priss or Prissy
APARTMENT NUMBER/LOCATION: Garret Apt 1
STORYTELLER: Steele_Magnolia
THEME SONG: "Twilight Zone" by Golden Earring
SHORT DESCRIPTION: 5'8" 135 lbs, bleached white hair, blue eyes, 30 yrs, Martial Arts/Ninjitsu Stalker
PHOTO (URL): Surveillance Photo of Priss-Priss
HERO CORPS RAP SHEET (URL): None at this time.
KNOWN ASSOCIATES (VG): Commander Ishmael Jonahs and his mercenary organization (NFI at this time)
Call girl, smuggler, thief, con artist, and most recently, cop-killer. All's fair when they killed her first, right? -
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If I had to pick a team of devs to spend a Quarterfield with it'd include:
CuppaJo for putting up with Flaming1 and me for the past year and a half.
Weaver-One for being one of the few rednames I feel really likes to post on these forums as both a dev and a fan of the game.
Lord Recluse for continuing to reply to my PMs about bugs and proving that I did in fact find a bug and haven't gone insane (much).
War Witch because I need to balance out the team to prevent a Sausage Party.
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/em joins the fanclub and brings cookies -
"I'm pregnant."
((OOC: This came to mind following an RP post I just made... I thought, 'I bet Lord Recluse would never say this!')) -
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Newton floated above the level where he thought the Snakes could reach although he had no idea if the reptilians could launch themselves into the air and threw one of his singularities at the portal. He gasped as the singularity quickly became overwhelmed. Oh, my, he muttered. He started generating more of them and there seemed to be no affect on the portal. This is not a good thing, he murmured, sweat pouring down his face.
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Black fire flickered around Exodus's hands and in her eyes. "As the Magician-Priests of the Pharoah were schooled in their arrogance, so shall these worshippers of false gods be...." With the buildup of dark power, Exodus let loose upon the the portal.
It flickered, trembled slightly, but stood strong.
"It may take some time." Indeed, as it had in Egypt. That Showdown hadn't decided things either, but neither than had the full power of the One God been brought to bear. Yet. -
How about a storage area in the base for storing salvage, accessible only by officers who do the building?
An enhancement locker for all members would be good too. -
(OOC: I am creating this thread for my fellow Whitmoore writers and I to post villain bios and stories (either stand-alone, narrative, or RP) that do no fit in our main thread. Kudo's to Tick-Tok for the idea of "The Blakmoore" as counterpart to "The Whitmoore", and to American_Valor for the "Safehouse" part of it. I feel like my head just exploded from the epiphany of putting the two together... and here it is.)
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"Do nothing but keep them in sight, we're on our way." Mystic hovered away from the desk. "Friends, things have taken a sudden turn for the worse. I can explain in route. Call everyone, Brian, Abrahms, everyone. We're headed to the Independence Port warhouses on the southeastern side." Mystic looked at the readout on the tracking device he'd given Smurd.
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Myriam accompanied Sting, both to keep an eye on him as he was not yet fully recovered from his injuries, and because like him she couldn't get there any faster. Exodus's power had only begun to manifest in her, as Mystic had alluded in his role as Master of the Tome and Archmage, and it did not yet include rapid movement.
The Lord of all Israel was well known for the long walks he made his people undertake on their journeys to meet his will. The road to Independence Port was but a trifle compared to 40 years in the desert to reach Canaan.
Suffering built character. Right.
Myriam huffed, keeping up with Sting, calling a shroud of mist to get them past a gathering of seedy looking men in ill-fitting oddly colored buisiness suits. The rally point... and in sight, Mystic atop the roof in his colorful garb.
The cavalry had come. One crack-shelled bugman and a Russian nurse in sensible oxfords and a wool dress.
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"Ok, close the portal. Any idea how we might do that? And an attack on the Zig? That doesn't sound good. But then again, I've been on the inside a few times - not quite sure why anyone would want to attack it."
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Exodus spoke, voice rumbling like low thunder. "Let us move with haste. Before they summon this false deity.... and it decides it does not wish to leave." -
Fire/Fire because it's just so pretty.
Girl in pirate hat with fire sword... what could be better? No, she's no pirate, she justs like the hat... and burns anyone who dares mock it! -
Myriam arrived a few minutes early for the meeting. As yet she had no "costume" but rather had the voucher the embassy had provided, good for one costume at the local ICON. Her Star of David Reserve costume was still in Israel... at the headquarters gathering mothballs. Not appropriate for wear in the United States, she was not here as a representative of Israel and would probably be the last of their heroes they would send. Green as spring grass.
She settled in a chair, warming her hands around the hot stoneware mug of black tea and sugar.
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He sat down somewhat gingerly and some realization came to him. Wait, never mind, I really dont want to know. They are going to use it to summon an aspect of their god and thats what matters. So anyone else here know any mythology? Last time I checked not a whole lot of snake gods were real pleasant. So unless these dudes are worshiping Quetzalcoatl and no one mentioned any rainbow colored feathers this is likely to bring some nasty thing like Set into our world. But hey maybe that trouble will be focused on our buddy Recluse for a while at least.
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The name Recluse was new to her; for that she had no opinon to offer. "Aspect of a god? I am not familiar with any snake deities, I do not possess the knowledge that Alfred does. But aspect of a god... that I do know something about. Or rather, Exodus does. It's not something to be taken lightly."
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He looked up and saw the surprised stares. Hey, gimme a break, I wasnt always an unpleasant bug-man, I went to college you know. He stated, a bit defensively.
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"Of course." She set this aside for later; another resource for learning. -
Myriam listened to Alfred's list. Once was accident, twice cooincidence, three times enemy action... wasn't that what her deceased husband had said? And old military truism, regardless of the nationality. An eternal truth. From the sound of things, the Two-Six had passed enemy action long since.
"I'm not the save-the-world kind, Sting. Even Exodus isn't." It was a bitter taste, "And perseverence and survival is the Jewish way. We shall overcome."
"Now rest.... Your shell must pain you. I will bring you dinner in a few hours, since you have had other food. Are you an omnivore, or true carnivore or herbivore? The borscht is beet soup... no meat." If the big insect man required meat, something would have to be done. Beets, bread makings, and butter had been all Myriam had been able to afford and scrape together from the sparse leavings in the kitchen. -
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"It will continue to be a pleasure having you here, Myriam. Even if only for the windows and the rats. You will have to train hard though. You spent so long not using your powers, and now we need you, full strength, full fury. A storm is coming, I fear. One that your powers cannot assuage, nor control, but with a little luck... we might be able to weather it."
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Myriam took those words with equanamity, little more apparent on her face than a slight narrowing of her whiskey brown eyes. "I will train. I am able to do so... now. First I had to remember who I was."
She busied her hands with fetching ice water for Sting, "The reason I did not call, did not write.... Six millenia of history, a legacy of oppression, slavery, exile, and genocide... From Egypt to Masada to Dachau... For a time I forgot who I was. I remember now. And now here I am." She sat the pitcher, glass and straw down on the rolling table.
"And may God help whomever you want Exodus at full strength to face." For only God could.
(OOC: Edit for rewording, stylistic changes only) -
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The mage looked out the dirty window... scratch that, clean window. Wait, "when did we have clean windows installed?" ran through his head. There was still a bullet hole in it.
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The bullet hole, with it's little spiderweb of spreading cracks, had small, neat pieces of tape over it sealing out the cold winter air. The cold did not bother Myriam, she was from Yakutsk, one of the coldest cities in Siberia, but it was not good for the patients.
The window was indeed clean.
She sidestepped the issue of her cooking. The men would either eat it or they would not, and if they were polite and shopping funds available later, perhaps there would be something with meat.
"Ammonia, water, newspaper. Oil soap for the wooden window frames. Pine oil and water for the floors. And everthing dusted." Myriam smiled at Alfred, gesturing expansively with her hands to indicated the formerly foul room. "Sunlight and fresh air. I had Exodus call the vermin and drive them out. It is good you have no neighbors to be displeased by the encroaching plague."
With a softer edge to her voice she added, lightly touching Alfred's hand with her own. "There is no safety, even in Israel. I will only leave if you ask me to. You need me."
"Even if only for the windows and the rats." -
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"Hmmm, someone else actually cares to clean this place too."
He climbed into a cot, worn out from even the short trip, and quickly fell asleep.
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The cot in question was a basic, functional hospital bed with rails. It had been delivered less than an hour earlier by a medical supply company in response to Mystic's order. There were two of them in the clinic, for in-patient care.
Clean sheets, smelling faintly of nothing worse than detergent and bleach. Cotton blankets. Simple pillows.
One patient. So exhausted he hadn't even noticed her. If she'd have been a Siberian Tiger he'd have been done for.
Myriam smiled with satisfaction, the corners of her mouth upturning slightly as she gazed from the back of the clinic where she'd been stocking shelves and storing gear. She was in business.
"Rest, Mr. Sting. You are in good hands." She rubbed the hands in question together, using her voice to alert him to her presence so as not to alarm him.... With her hands she began briskly, but not roughly, assessing his condition and the efficacy of the treatment of his injuries.
"I am Myriam. I am a nurse, and will be running the 2-6 clinic for Alfred, as well as working with you as Exodus. And unless there is someone better, I am also the cook. There is borscht and bread for your dinner."