jwbullfrog

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  1. Well, to expand a bit on myself here, I also know what I would like to see happen with Statesman.

    He dies. No, really, flatline on the brainscan and everything.

    In the afterlife, before being sent on to the great whatever, the spirit of the well speaks to him and tells him how disappointed it is in him. Then, it leaves but, before States can finally relax, he's brought back to life.

    I know, very comics cliche but don't we all kind of expect this by now?

    Here's the practical point of all of this. Stateman comes back as a highly experienced, very powerful hero but NOT a walking god. That's right, he has lost all contact with the well and is no longer an incarnate.

    He gets to pick up his life again. He's starting to age again, but only because the 'pause' button has been switched off. He now knows that he can and, eventually, will die and that gives him a bit more spark, a bit more motivation to leave the world a better place before he goes.

    He gets more involved with the modern world and the heroes in it, in fact, he takes it upon himself to try and teach the basics to the newest heroes.

    To sum up, He becomes a normal lv 50 and becomes the first contact in either a revised tutorial, or a new set of arcs in Atlas that replace both Matthew and Twinshot.

    Oh, just so people know, I joined the game after Jack Emmert left so I have no personal animosity for the man (he's never done me wrong.) I've never really hated Statesman either. It's just the character was always a bit.... blah.
  2. Let's see if I can get this into words.

    Marcus Cole is a man out of time. When he got his powers from the Well of the Furies, it was 1923 (?) and the world was a much different place then. The world had barely begun to recover from the Great War, and the rumblings that would lead to the second were only just starting. In some ways, Good and Evil were a bit more cleanly defined, and it was very easy for Marcus Cole to know how to devote his energies to fight for Good.

    Times change. Marcus Cole watches a man who was his friend become a bitter enemy. Society explodes in revolutions and counter revolutions and movements and social disorder and an almost complete rewrite of what right and wrong are. In the middle of all that, Marcus cole is driven by his own Moral code to keep doing the right thing.

    Old generations of heroes die, New heroes are born and Statesman now feels increasingly out of touch. He still is driven to fight evil, but it's less obvious what Evil might be these days. He feels lost. The few times that things become clear again, say giant meteors from space and alien invasions, he knows exactly what to do but, otherwise, younger generations of heroes see him as a museum piece. Too rigid and inflexible in his morality. Invulnerable, Undefeatable, Dull, boring. Sure it's nice to have him around when the Rikti come to call, but he's a bit of an embarassment.

    "We can take care of Nemesis," they tell him "and the council, and Arachnos, you know ALL OF THE PEOPLE YOU COULDNT GET RID OF"

    Just to make this even more complicated, the Well that gave him his powers in the first place is getting more and more... pushy. it's getting harder to resist its demands.

    He has a major conflict. He wants to keep fighting for good but he's tired. The well wants to use him but he doesn't want to let it. The world doesn't really want him around anymore but refuses to let him go.

    He wants to end it all but he's not sure he can.



    I think thats how I would present the character.
  3. 80's pop music references, in game trivia, and just overall amusement value.

    I vote this thread as tonight's winner.
  4. Hiya Paragonners. Alexis Alexander here with my continuing report.


    Imagine, if you will, the feeling of being taken apart atom by atom, sorted, sifted, filed for future reference, and then being shot towards orbit at a speed equaling that achieved by a radio wave only to be bounced off a satellite, hurtled back toward another point on the planet, recalled from the files, and (hopefully) put back together in the correct order.

    Now imagine that, with a suit of fully active Crab Spider armor waiting for you at the other end.

    Readers, I now understand what it feels like to be completely and absolutely sober. The immediate possibility of your own death completely overrides any petty concerns you might have, such as headaches, nausea, and hunger. While most of my mind was looking for a reverse button, a small, completely fearless part was wondering how much money I could make If I could bottle that feeling as a hangover cure.

    "STAND WHERE YOU ARE AND SURRENDER, " boomed the voice of the soldier in the armor. "YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON ARACHNOS PROPERTY AND WILL BE TERMINATED AS INTRUDERS."

    You know, readers, I've never been very religious, but I was wondering if I might be able to take a crash course. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Carpenter standing very still. The fact that I could see her at all worried me. That meant that she had been taken as off guard as I was.

    To my left, I could see Sandy's hands twitching as if she was weighing the options of trying to get her goggles off. The only one of my group that didn't look terrified was Handshake. His head was cocked to one side and he was staring up at the Crab Spider's helmet. I was hoping he had a devastating weapon ready to go.

    "Cobo? Is that you in that tin suit, son?" he said as stepped forward with his hand out. Yes, before you ask, he had his gloves on.

    "JAKE?" boomed the spider again. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING... OH, WAIT A SEC...that's better... what are you doing here?" Now that the voice was operating at a more normal level, I got the impression that the soldier was much younger than I expected.

    Handshake took another step forward before turning and facing us. "Ladies," he began "I'd like to introduce Colby Boston, soldier of Arachnos and, our captor it looks like." He turned his attention back to the Crab Spider. "When did you get promoted?"

    The most important thing that happened over those next few seconds was that several other things did not happen. For example, Handshake did not try to attack or make any physical contact with the armor. Carpenter did not move or make any hostile motions. Sandy did not raise her hands to her face. And I did not die. The most important thing was that the soldier in the armor... relaxed. The arms that extended from the back of the armor tipped skyward and stopped tracking everyone's movement. He took a step backward and, although I couldn't be sure, switched off his weapons.

    "They finally gave me a slot last month, " came the voice from the armor.

    "Took them forever Cobo. Hey, are you still seeing that gal of yours?"

    Readers, I'm pretty certain that armor can't blush but Cobo gave every impression of doing so.

    "Asked her to marry me the day after I got the promotion."

    "Excellent. " Handshake turned to look at us. "His girlfriend works as a blackjack dealer in a casino on St. Martial. they've been dating for three years. I was beginning to wonder if this idiot here would ever pop the question."

    "Jake, what are you doing here? " Cobo sounded exasperated. "This is not a good place to be. It's like Dresden mixed with Hiroshima out there, man. If Vanguard or Longbow don’t shoot you on sight, the Shivans will get you."

    "I'm on a job, son." Handshake answered. "The ladies and I are here on business for Madam. Your door just happened to be our easiest way in."

    Colby sighed, "You know I have to report this. I'm already going to be in enough trouble for not shooting first and asking questions later."

    "You never get any answers that way, son. " laughed Handshake. "Who's your squad boss? Maybe I can put in a kind word for you."

    "Seer Constantine."

    "Connie, hm? On second thought, she might still be mad at me."

    Hearing a suit of armor laugh was just one of several surreal things that had happened to me over those last few minutes readers.

    "Maybe not Jake, " Cobo said. "You see, about two weeks ago when we were assigned here, she told me, and I quote here, 'If you ever see that fool friend of yours again, tell him that warehouse 25A would be a good place for him. And, if I ever see him again, I'll make his brain run out of his nose.' Oh, and she also told me that I should give you five minutes before I start shooting."

    "How long do we have left."

    "About 2 minutes 50, Jake." said Cobo cheerfully as his armor shifted back into a more alert posture. "Better get a move on."

    Readers, when a Crab Spider tells you that you have less than three minutes left of your five minute head start, it's a pretty good idea to start running. Two minutes and thirty seconds later, we sprinted out of the side door of a mostly intact office building and out into what Cobo had described very correctly.

    Except Hiroshima might be putting it mildly.
  5. hm, if the lore I've seen is correct, her job is...


    Mistress.

    Number one girlfriend.

    Head of Cole's Harem.

    But, then again, I could be wrong.
  6. jwbullfrog

    Dehancements

    I could see this approached in a different way.

    The first, and simplest, is not to take a power even if its available. Now, I know this doesn't work with things like inherant fitness but, thats where the second part comes in...

    Don't slot anything into it. Or, more creatively, slot intentionally weaker enhacements like, say, purpose built IO enhancements which never lose their numbers even if you have technically out levelled them.

    For example, if you want your lv 30 character to be a bit less effective with their rain of fire, you either, dont slot it with damage OR go out and buy yourself a lv 10 basic damage IO and use that. You'll still get some damage bonus but nowhere near as much as you would by using something at the highest level you can.

    That might get you the effect you're looking for.
  7. Well, lets see if I remember those mythology courses correctly.

    Prometheus (a rough translation meaning fore thought) was the titan who gave fire (sometimes interpreted as science and/or the creative spark) to humanity in defiance of the gods. For this, he was chained down and is doomed to have his liver (or some other internal organs) pecked out by vultures for eternity.

    You can see why this might make someone a bit bitter.

    Now, If we transfer this a bit to in game lore we could say that the gods are actually the well of the furies which has been granting power to just a few over the course of who knows how long, in what appears to be a long running socio/psychological experiment. The well decides when it appears, who gets power and has been shown to be trying to manipulate those it comes in contact with.

    Prometheus, meanwhile, seeing that humanity was destined for great things, decides to jump start the process a bit in defiance of the the gods (played tonight by the well of the furies.) He doesn't seem too pleased with the well's games and seems to be telling people that they can do just fine without it.

    Now, the well probably isn't too happy with this but, not having a conveniently strong catspaw available at the moment, isn't really able to punish Prometheus (AKA the chained to a rock thing.) But, as soon as the well has a follower strong enough to take on big blue, it will use them to make it's displeasure known.

    So what do we learn from this? Well, we could say that if we drink the Well's kool aid (take incarnate abilities) we're going to spend the rest of our lives either doing what it tells us, fighting it, or just going a bit crazy trying to do both.

    Resist the Well, humanity. It might be our only hope.
  8. Quote:
    Originally Posted by Dark_Respite View Post
    Would I get lynched if I did a demorecord of States buying it to the soundtrack of Harley Quinn playing "Amazing Grace" on the kazoo? (Especially if Recluse is the one giving the eulogy?)

    Michelle
    aka
    Samuraiko/Dark_Respite
    Oh, please do. I'm grinning about it already.
  9. Quote:
    Originally Posted by Hyperstrike View Post

    /em slow, sad shake of the head accompanied by slow clapping

    I have to applaud his sheer tenacity and audacity while, at the same time, wondering when he's at least going to check in with reality and get his messages.
  10. Took a little break last week but I'm back again with a new episode. Here it is and, to One and All A Happy New Year. --- JWB






    Hiya Paragonners. Alexis Alexander here with my ongoing report.


    Readers, I've never had a reason to look up the word 'insanity' before. Like most of us, I always thought I had a fair understanding of what it meant. But, after my lunch meeting with Madam Masada, I took the time break out my old copy of the Encyclopedia Britannica just to make sure I had things straight.

    Her plan for getting into Galaxy City was, at first, second, and third glance, completely insane. She proposed that a team of mercenaries (that she just happened to have on retainer) would infiltrate Fort Darwin and use the teleporters there to transport into Galaxy City. I would be going along with this group in my profession of investigative reporter and, she was kind enough to tell me this after dessert, her personal envoy.

    To paraphrase Obi Wan, "Who's the more foolish? The fool or the fool who follows her?"

    That, readers, is how I found myself sitting in a small inflatable boat with four other people, slowly drifting with the current toward Mercy Island.

    Despite popular opinion, Mercy Island is not Hell on Earth. In fact, before the Rikti invasion it was pretty much a quiet place given over to the fishing industry. Arachnos was one of the best things to happen to the island, driving the mutant snake population (a phrase which only sounds perfectly normal in Paragon, readers) back underground, and establishing a totalitarian but secure society.

    When the Rikti invaded, the Northern end of the island was devastated and was never rebuilt. Most of the surviving population either relocated to other islands in the chain or moved South of the massive fortified wall that Arachnos constructed. The North end of the island became Lord Recluse's training ground for new recruits. Either they proved strong enough to survive, and therefore, strong enough to be of use to Arachnos, or they simply disappeared into a snake hole, never to be seen again.

    Yes, readers, this is where most of the poster children from the last six years of Paragon's Most Wanted got their start. Kind of puts things into perspective doesn't it?

    Over the last few years, Longbow has been sending teams of field operatives onto Mercy in an attempt to "clean up" the island. Generally, all they've accomplished was getting several field agents killed, wounded, or captured by Arachnos. It's a bit of an inside joke with Longbow that if you screwed up badly your superiors would show you mercy.

    Yeah. Saviors of the world from the forces of evil...

    In any case, Longbow has had one clear cut victory in their long conflict with Arachnos. They have managed to take and hold the Arachnos base known as Fort Darwin. As a result, Arachnos forces have withdrawn South of the wall. In a press conference, an Arachnos spokesman denounced the act as nothing more than 'a terrorist invasion of our sovereign territory.' Later that day, the Arachnos emissary to the UN called for sanctions against Longbow and the nations that harbor them.

    As you might expect readers, this really hasn't gone very far. Particularly since the emissary was visibly trying to restrain laughter when, in a press conference later that day he said 'If they really want it that badly, they can have it." Rumors are that things have not gotten better North of the wall. In fact, reliable sources tell me that things have gotten much. much, worse.

    And that cheerful thought brings me back to the small inflatable boat on the tide.

    The four of us in the boat were only part of the team that Madam sent. Two of our other partners were airborne while the seventh was, quite remarkably, under the boat guiding us in. Marine, our underwater guide, would use his water manipulation abilities to guide us in silently to the shore near Fort Darwin's docks as well as being our first notification of trouble.

    Our two airborne members, twins calling themselves Dive and Bomb (I do not make these things up readers), were our lookouts and, when the time came, our distraction. Along with Marine, they would create a large amount of noise and give the impression that the fort was under serious attack.

    We stopped about 100 yards out. This was the point where noise and misdirection would do us more good than pure stealth. It seems that Longbow's leadership is so confident that nobody would attack them directly, that their forces are almost exclusively trained to look for stealthy attackers. A loud, flashy attack would draw their attention so much that our stealth team should be able to enter the fortress unopposed.

    Readers, I hate any plan that revolves around the word 'should."

    "Ok, here's where I give y'all a push, " said Marine. "Hold on tight and don't fight the wave. Once you get to the dock, get out quick. I 'spect the twins'll be a bit busy at that point and I'll probably be busy pushing Longbow's boats back out to sea."

    Fortunately, as much as I hate matter transporters, I love rollercoasters. I had to remember that we were trying to be sneaky as we shot toward the shoreline, or else I would have been whooping like a maniac the whole way. On the edges of my vision I could see Dive and Bomb glowing like fireworks and beginning their run.

    The dock was drawing closer as I could see spotlights snapping on above us and the sounds of shouted orders became just barely audible over the rush of the water. I could see bursts of flame erupting along the edges of the platform as the crest of the wave brought us alongside what I supposed was a cargo dock. my three companions and I hopped quickly onto the concrete, letting the wave surge past and break against the shoreline just yards away.

    We waited in the shadows of a set of shipping containers as we waited for the twins to break off their attack. They were only supposed to give us five minutes of distraction before heading back out to sea. What seemed like moments later I could hear the twins shouting and hurling insults down at the Longbow troops as they made one last arcing attack run then raced for the horizon.

    This was when our timing was critical. We had to find a way inside from dockside while everyone was still looking up. The four of us moved up the dock at a slow jog. Out in front of our foursome was a slight woman calling herself Carpenter. I had to keep reminding myself that she was there since her special abilities made her all but invisible unless you were looking directly at her. She would be our scout and, if necessary, our first striker. We had made it most of the way to a set of armored doors at the end of the dock when she signaled us to stop.

    I could see the problem right away. Two Longbow troopers stood on either side of the door. They either had superior discipline or no curiosity what so ever. In either case, they were a complication. I felt a hand on my left shoulder as the second of Madam's 'infiltration specialists' took the initiative.

    She raised her hands up to her face and slowly removed the pair of goggles that I had never seen her without. I had warned not to look at her when she did this. Her name was Sandy, short for Sandrine or, as the others called her 'Sandman'. She was a modern day Gorgon and her unfiltered gaze could induce sleep, hallucinations, fear, or even death. I'd had the opportunity to speak with her on the trip in and found her to be very energetic and personable. She said that she had never killed without very good reason, but freely admitted that there were a few times in her past when someone had not walked away from a meeting with her.

    It was a moment before the guard on the left stiffened and slumped to the ground, quickly followed by the one on the right. I waited for her whispered 'all clear' before I looked at her, questioningly.

    "It's amazing how bored people get on guard duty. I can't blame them for falling asleep at their post." She grinned and took a few jogging steps forward before waving me onward.

    The guards were breathing deeply and regularly, lost in whatever dreamland they cared for. Sandy and I dragged them off to the side as our final team member pulled a small multitool from his belt and opened the access switch for the door.

    I guess readers, I have this romanticized image of an electronics expert from books and movies. I expected either a small microcomputer and wires, or perhaps a wire connected from his head to the switch. A pair of wire cutters and some electrical tape were a bit undramatic but, they got the job done. The door opened with a faint pneumatic hiss and we slipped inside.

    I'd seen file footage of Arachnos facilities but I wasn't prepared for just how... overdramatic Fort Darwin actually was. What little lighting there was seemed to be there solely for the purpose of pointing out how depressing everything was. Bare industrial walls met bare industrial floors at bare industrial joints.

    "You'd think Longbow would have at least painted the place or something," said Handshake, our electronics expert. " God, I always hated coming out to Darwin."

    "You've been here before?" I asked. I trusted Madam's judgment, but this could be a complication.

    "Sure. You don't think Wolf Spiders fix their own computers do you? I was an IT guy for Arachnos for three years before Madam offered me better pay and a benefits package."

    As we walked he explained that the Soldiers, Fortunatas, Widows, and Arbiters that were the villains of a thousand-and-one made for TV movies, were really only a small part of Arachnos. The majority of the payroll went to civilian techs, secretaries, plumbers, janitors, and legions of clerks who did the dull, boring, and infinitely necessary paperwork needed to make a private army run.

    "Most of us really didn't care whether Lord Recluse ended up ruling the world or not. All we cared about was the steady pay." Said Handshake. "But they really weren't paying me enough to come out here on a regular basis."

    It seems, readers, that Fort Darwin itself was the first of Lord Recluse's tests for new recruits. It was purposely designed to be mind numbingly dull. If a new recruit didn't immediately leap off the landing platform, eager to do something, anything, just to get away from Fort Darwin, then they were probably not what Arachnos was looking for. And, if someone actually LIKED being there, well, it's pretty safe to say that they weren't likely to be seen again.

    Handshake was just about to launch into a story about a Fortunata named Kalinda when we heard the stomp of boots and the shouts of orders from ahead of us.

    "I think they know we're here, " said Carpenter. "I was so hoping I wouldn't have to kill anyone today."

    "Heh, and what makes today different than every other day, Spooky? " chided Handshake as he pulled on a pair of metal lined gloves.

    Carpenter snorted. "I just bought this shirt. You know how hard it is to get blood out of silk? Oh well," she sighed, "Sandy, if a fight starts, you and I'll carry the load. 'Shake, you're the watchdog. If nothing else, make sure Alexis gets where she's going."

    "I'm not helpless, " I said. I felt the need to defend myself at this point, even though I knew my usual place in a fight was not to be in the middle of it.

    "Madam's orders, " said Sandy as she stepped past me. "And do you really want to be the one who has to tell her why you're under arrest? Not me. I like my paycheck."

    Ahead of us, the hallway opened out into a four-way intersection. Large stacks of packing crates stood almost to the ceiling creating blind spots and, obvious to even my tactically inferior point of view, nasty choke points that it would be easy to shoot wandering reporters in.

    "Spooky, you're on," whispered Sandy. Carpenter had moved out of my line of sight and I had no idea where she was. The three of us crouched down behind a set of metal pipes and waited while our scout did her job.
    A minute or two later, Carpenter's voice whispered out of the air behind me. "Two left, two right. All rifles, nothing special. Three hiding straight ahead including a flamethrower."

    Flamethrower...

    There are some words that just don't come up in casual conversation, readers. Flamethrower usually fits on that list. Longbow is supposed to be a law enforcement agency, deputized to arrest and detain criminals.

    So, how exactly do you arrest somebody with a flamethrower?

    "Um," I started.

    "Yeah, I agree. Um...," whispered Handshake. "Any good news Spooky?"

    "There's an unguarded teleport bay just about 100 yards straight ahead. We get past these guys and we're good.'

    The unresolved flamethrower issue was still hanging in the air when I saw Sandy stand up and walk slowly toward the intersection. I was about to says something when I noticed her left hand held a pair of goggles hanging by their strap. A slight change in the shadows hinted that Carpenter was already moving and would be ready to take advantage of whatever came her way. Handshake had levered himself up onto his toes in almost a sprinter's start. I could see the plan, although I wasn't too fond of it.

    "Freeze, intruder and put your hands in the air." Came a voice from the Longbow on the left. At least they were going to start off playing by the rules. Sandy did exactly as commanded. She stopped in the center of the intersection and raised her hands to shoulder height.

    She also opened her eyes.

    "Now," shouted Handshake as we took off running. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the pair on the right lying bonelessly on the floor while the ones on the left stared at some point far, far, away from reality. That left the three in the center that were directly in our path.

    Including the one with the flamethrower. Yes, I know I keep coming back to that, but it was a very important detail in my life at that point. There are a fair amount of hazards in my line of work, but somehow, right then, being incinerated had moved to the top of the list.

    I suppose I shouldn't have worried. Although they hadn't been in Sandy's line of sight, neither had Carpenter been in theirs. As Handshake and I passed, I could see the agent with the flamethrower lying on the floor with an unnatural bend in his neck. She was busy fighting with a second agent leaving only one person between us and our goal.

    I figured that this was as good a time as any to show off, so I launched myself into the kind of flying kick that my martial arts instructor hated. I saw something like it in a Jackie Chan movie once and I'd wasted a lot of training time trying to perfect it.

    The Longbow rifleman folded neatly in half around my foot and dropped to his knees. I followed up with a quick strike to the back of his head, driving him face first into the floor.

    Thank you, Jackie.

    Handshake was laughing as we crossed the last few feet into the teleporter bay. He walked over to the computer console outside the bay and took off his gloves.

    "They've changed the codes," he said. "Ok, no surprise there. I was kind of hoping though. Oh well..." His voice trailed off for a moment as he laid his bare hand on the console. The lights on the panel shifted twice before he looked back at me.

    "Got it. I suppose you don't want to go to any of their presets?"

    "Not particularly, any suggestions?"

    "Lets see if the boys in black left any of their beacons running."

    "Arachnos has teleporters in Galaxy City?" I asked. This was news to me.

    "Sure. They just didn't advertise. Ha, there's one, warehouse district. Nice strong signal too. Give a shout for the girls will you?"

    It took him a moment to make the adjustments he needed and the teleport glowed to life. Sandy (re-goggled) and Carpenter jogged into the room at my call and took their place on the transport pad. I stepped up behind them, and tried to breathe deeply. I wasn't looking forward to this.
    Handshake keyed in a final command and jumped into place on the platform. "Diagon Alley," he shouted as the transport started. I would have laughed if I wasn't waiting for my stomach to come out my mouth.

    There had to be a better way to get around.
  11. It's a mix of both for me.

    I have moderate ALT-itis. I'll get ... binges... if you will where I'll create a dozen or so new characters and be absolutely in love with all of them.

    The honeymoon usually lasts a week or two until the shiney wears off and I'm forced to take a look at the wreckage. In general, if I've had a character a month and they have not gotten out of the teens, then they most likely are going to be stripped of anything valuable, saved as a costume file, and recycled as something different later on.

    On the other hand, those that make it past 20 tend to become permanent and a few of those (say about 10 currently) would qualify for my "if the game dropped to only one server, these would be the ones I saved" list.

    Out of those elite, I have five that have become something of a 'signature' for me. The people I play with on different servers know me as that character and these few have the best developed 'personalities'. These few are the ones I return to time and again, who are always fun to play and never disappoint.
  12. Hm,

    Just... hm.

    Part of my long and varied working history has been in Customer Service. Actually, thinking about it, almost all of it has been solving customer problems in one form or another.

    It's my considered opinion that no rational employer allow this man to have anything to do with the public ever again. Somebody earlier mentioned that this is a perfect example of what not to do.

    I do hope that the original customer finally got somebody that was willing to listen to his situation and get him the answers and resolution he needed.
  13. Hiya Paragonners. Alexis Alexander here with a special holiday report.


    JWB has asked me to pass on a bit of a scheduling note. Due to the usual holiday rush, rush, rush, I'll be getting a bit of a break this week. He promises that we'll pick back up with an extended length episode next week. Until then...



    A Merry Christmas to one and all. And may the New Year bring you and yours all the best.






    ---JWB.
  14. A bit of an early start to this week's episode. Enjoy--JWB






    Hiya Paragonners, Alexis Alexander here with my continuing report.


    It's not often that I get dressed up for lunch. In fact, it's not that often I get dressed up for anything. One of the great things about being a freelance reporter is that we have a fairly casual dress code. An old pair of khakis, a comfortable sweater, and a pair of running shoes serve me well most of the time. But, every now and then, I have good reason to iron the skirt and dust off the pumps.

    An invitation from Madam would be one of those times.

    Now you might be wondering about Madam and why I seem to refer to her in a tone reserved for royalty. Although I am not certain of her actual social and/or political status, she is, in her own way, every bit a Queen. In addition to being a notable figure in the superhuman community, Madam Masada is the head of a multinational corporation which operates businesses all through the Rogue Islands, Europe, Asia, and United States. Although most of her business interests are perfectly legitimate,(she owns one of the largest dry cleaning chains on the Eastern Seaboard, for example) her primary business is providing very personalized forms of entertainment to consumers who would rather remain anonymous.

    I trust I don't need to spell that out for you.

    I have worked with her (not for her, readers, please keep that distinction in mind) several times in the past, and while I would not consider myself a friend, I am on her list of favored persons. Which made the choice of adding a small, dove shaped pin to my wardrobe for the day vital.

    When Madam asks you to lunch, she is not talking about meeting you at the local hotdog cart. In this case it meant boarding her private yacht in Independence Port. I was escorted aboard by a highly attractive young man who I assumed, since he was in uniform, was a member of the crew. He led me down into the main hull of the ship and up to an oak door at the end of a short hall. After knocking once, he opened the door and motioned me inside. As I stepped through the door I realized that I didn't recall him saying anything.

    "His name is Jean-Paul. And, yes, he is almost too pretty to be true," said Madam's personal secretary, Caridad as she stepped into view from my left. "He's working on his master's degree in both Philosophy and Psychology and he also has an interesting ability for navigation. It'll be sad seeing him go in another year or two.” Here she stopped and looked at me over the top of her wire framed glasses and slight smile twisted the corner of her mouth, “But then I won’t have to worry about the ‘no dating in the workplace policy, eh?”

    Because I know you’re wondering; yes, Caridad has worked for Madam for several years and, yes; she started out as an escort. This has given her a much more casual attitude toward the opposite sex, which becomes a bit more pronounced around me because she knows it makes me blush. It's not that I’m a prude readers, I am not unattractive and I have a healthy view of my own likes and dislikes but I just have several years of a very conservative upbringing to overcome. Caridad seems determined to assist with that.

    We proceeded forward through two other rooms, one an obvious office arrangement and the other outfitted as a lounge or sitting area. Caridad opened the door to the third room and motioned me inside. This room had no business being onboard an ocean going vessel unless that vessel was the Queen Mary. Dark oak paneling with carefully placed artworks lined three of the walls with the fourth taken up with a set of sliding glass doors that would have a spectacular view once the ship was out at sea. Brass fitted sconces in the corners concealed lights that would most likely give the room an intimate feeling at night. In the center of the room was a small, round table set with a surprisingly understated set of china.

    Madam rose from her seat at the table to greet me. She was dressed in a well tailored suit of bronze and white, her chosen colors. I have to admit an urge to bow, or curtsey, or whatever it is a person is supposed to do in situations like this but I opted for the cautious approach, and let her make the first move.

    She shook my hand gracefully then directed me to the chair opposite hers. Caridad slipped into the third chair at the table, the one that gave her the best view of both the door and the windows. After a few moments, and probably on some unheard signal, Jean-Paul pushed a small cart into the room and began serving what would only be the first of several courses.
    It was a few more minutes before Madam started the conversation. The topics were all small things at first, my health, congratulations on my blackbelt, (Yes readers, I know Karate. In Paragon City it can be deducted as a work related expense.) and a few humorous stories from Madam's own recent business affairs. The small talk lasted through the main course, and it was over a simple crème brulee that Madam returned to business.

    "A certain little bird tells me that you're looking for way into Galaxy City. I believe I can help you with that. It seems that our dear friends in Longbow have a teleporter we could use to get you, and perhaps a few other persons into Galaxy City."

    "Longbow?" Madam had ways of getting things done but I had to doubt this one.

    "Well, of course, " said Madam completely unruffled by my slight tone of alarm. "In very typical fashion they don't even realize that they have a huge hole in their interdiction strategy that we can take advantage of. I propose that we use their equipment to send you and several of my people into Galaxy to set up a secure base for relief operations."

    "Relief operations?"

    "Yes, food, shelter, medical care, protection from nasty monsters and even nastier people. And, perhaps, while we're there, set up a listening post to eavesdrop on the brave boys and girls of Longbow and Vanguard to find out what they're really up to." Madam stopped and looked into my eyes. "You're not the only one who thinks someone isn't telling the truth."

    Readers, it's always nice to have people you can count on. Madam had a way in, but there were a few small details that concerned me.

    "You mentioned that this was Longbow's equipment?"

    "For now, yes. It seems that in their never ending war against Arachnos, Longbow has taken over a few facilities that contain teleporters that can reach into Galaxy City. Their typical procedure whenever they take a facility is to switch teleporters over to their own command net so they can use them to move supplies and troops."

    "So we just walk up to one of these facilities and ask nicely?" I could see that Madam was being coy. She was enjoying making me sweat over this.

    "Oh no, "she said in sugary sweet tones "They're far too arrogant for that. But thats the good part. Because they are almost required to be stubborn hotheads, they simply refuse to accept that someone would dare to defy them. They think that hanging a Longbow flag over the door is a guarantee of security." Madam shook her head and let her tone become more contemptuous. "They're just not paranoid enough. They're careless, and sloppy and THAT is our way in."

    Madam was proposing infiltrating a Longbow base. Now I had no doubt she could find people to do that but it could be dangerous. Longbow was not known for going above and beyond in the care of prisoners and I had no desire to spend the next several weeks sitting behind a reinforced door waiting for my lawyer to call. still, Madam's eyes were as close to twinkling as I have ever seen. She was still hiding something.

    "Ok, what aren't you telling me?"

    "Nothing much. Tell me, have you ever visited Mercy Island?"

    "What's on Mercy Island?"

    "Snakes, Spiders, Crooked Cops, unfortunate victims of medical experiments....













    ... and Fort Darwin."
  15. Quote:
    Originally Posted by Wing_Leader View Post
    And when you say SOs, I presume you also mean lvl 30 generic IOs, which have roughly the same enhancement bonuses as SO+, but never need to be replaced.

    But a free account can't even use those.

    My preference is for defenders and controllers but a brute is a good choice I'd say perhaps a DB/ WP Brute will be a bit of a killing machine.
  16. All of them actually.


    Every AT can play perfectly well using just the old school SO's. You don't get some of the big bang and flash that you do from IO sets, but you still get a solid character that can get the job done.
  17. Ha, world Saved by Lord R.


    Nice.
  18. His own over-inflated ego finally ruptures blowing Statesman into millions of small pieces.

    Allowing for comic book logic, this does not really kill him but spreads his residual mental self all over the city, which presents the possibilty that someone could recreate him using a 'Psychic Vacuum recloning ....thingy'

    Of course, that could go wrong and we get a Statesman that has onl;y about 90% of his original personality.

    Who is the extra 10%??? Stay tuned players......
  19. In the Marshall Brass arc there are a couple of ways to completely derail things.

    My stalker (who is more than a bit mentally unhinged) would have just killed Amanda Vines on sight, dropped the body at Brass' feet and told him "problem solved. now what?"

    Or, what if I don't kill Doc Aeon, what if I like his plan for ruling the world. "Ok Doc, have fun."
  20. That's what I'm seeing.

    Cole: Bow to me and I'll solve all your problems.

    Recluse: Get off my world.


    Epic battle follows.
  21. Recluse is a far more honest villain.

    He tells you right up front "Hi, I'm a evil overlord. Keep that in mind and we'll get along fine."

    Cole is one of those contemptable "I'm doing this for your own good." persons.

    I'd rather see Recluse overthrow Cole and take over management of Praetoria. It would actually do the people there some good. None of this "we control what you hear, see AND think. And, oh yes, its for your own good." business

    Long Live Lord Recluse.

    Every hero needs an honest villain, and he's big enough for all of us.
  22. A bit of minor necroposting her but a thought occurs to me.


    Statesman dies as foretold. Marcus Cole (who may or may not have had an active part in that event) decides that the time is right to invade Primal Earth.

    From his throneroom on Grandville, Lord Recluse decides that he's simply not going to have any of that and unleashes Arachnos' full might against the invaders to drive them off of HIS world.

    After all, it really is Lord Recluse's world, we all just live on it. And the sooner we just accept that, the better things will be.

    Meanwhile, from wherever he hangs out, Nemesis directs his troops to beging operations in Praetoria which, of course, he has been planning for some time. While Arachnos pounds on the Praetorians on this side of the dimentional gate, several Praetorian officials are quietly replaced by automatons and subtle changes start happening in that society which will, ultimately, lead to a more Nemesis friendly worldview.

    Finding his military shattered from without and subverted from within, Marcus Cole and his remaining followers escape through a last dimentional portal to Werewolf world (recently abandoned as its last resident had to eat himself to survive) where they set up shop and vow to return to power....


    You see? It all works out. Thanks to Lord Recluse
  23. Everything on Mercy has gone the way of the origin specific missions in Atlas Park (and the now gone Galaxy).

    I would like to have the option of playing the older arcs. I liked them. For now, I just street hunt up to about lv 5 then hop a ferry out to port oakes where things are back to normal..
  24. Quote:
    Originally Posted by Samuel_Tow View Post
    You know what IS an armed invasion, though? Longbow occupying Fort Darwin by force. True, Longbow are not directly affiliated with the American government, but they are based in the US and such an open occupation should probably brand them as terrorists. Instead of torturing their soldiers and burning down his own base, Recluse would be within his full right to demand that the US government take actions against this terrorist organisation operating from within their borders which is unlawfully attacking a sovereign nation and attempting to overthrow its officially and internationally recognised government.

    .

    Ok, If i understand their status correctly, Longbow is a private organization that the UN has uses as their defacto peacekeeping force. It's legality is based largely on it's connection to Ms. Liberty (and by extension, Statesman.)

    The US government has no direct control over Longbow and, as such, are under no obligation to do anything about their occupation of Ft. Darwin. Having said that, the US government could completely disavow the organization if Arachnos decided to claim its sovereign rights to beat the holy hell out of them.

    Personally, since I'm not too fond of Libby or her Longbow toy soldiers, I'd be happy to claim a spot on a nearby rooftop and watch the fireworks if they did.
  25. Quote:
    Originally Posted by Texas Justice View Post
    Generally those objects aren't listed on the market.

    Watch your server global channels or the market forums for stuff like that.

    Fair enough. Thanks also.