Acyl

It was possible at one point to place low bids for higher level common IO recipes, ones that aren't frequently used... like, y'know Invention: Intangibility, Interrupt, stuff like that... and then sell them at an NPC vendor for much, much higher. I don't know if that's viable now.

[ QUOTE ]
It'll be a nice day when people regard individuals as just that instead of representatives of some larger group that they may be a part of.

[/ QUOTE ]

It would - but that day isn't today. Like it or not, there does exist a general perception that the PvP crowd is an angry bunch of irrational ruffians who scream a lot.

This may not be true, but there's been enough vocal outcry around here by at least a few folks identifying themselves as PvPers. Indeed, there was at least one self-identified PvP player heckling Positron when he turned up during the 5th anniversary celebrations - at least one I know about, there were probably more.

It bears mentioning, however, that one stated intent of the I13 PvP changes was to encourage more people to PvP, beyond the...existing PvP clique, as it were.

I don't think that's worked, but there you go.

EDIT: Jeez, this is my 666th post! And it's in a PvP thread! Is this coincidence? I THINK NOT!!!!

[ QUOTE ]
Please keep these threads alive.
Post in both of them.
But also keep in mind that these are meant to be engaging discussions with the hopes of attracting developer attention to address, rethink, and hopefully change what has become PvP.

[/ QUOTE ]

I wish you luck. I really do. In an ideal world we'd have constructive back and forth dialogue. But at this point, I suspect a lot of the die-hard PvP community have either (a) left, (b) are spewing enough bile that nobody wants to listen, or (c) have given up.

I actually agree that there are numerous issues with the current PvP balance - but then I had many problems with PvP balance before the I13 changes.

Honestly I don't think what we have now is any worse. It's simply different. Mind, the fact that it's different makes it bad enough for some people.

It's kinda hard to tell how much of the ire from PvP players is because they genuinely think what we have now is broken, or because they're just unwilling to adapt or give the new system a shot.

Regarding travel suppression in particular, though...I screamed like a rabid animal when I first saw the patch notes back when I13 was on test. Having played extensively since, though...I honestly don't think the new suppression is that bad. Running battles are still fine, and you still CAN remain mobile - indeed I agree this gives meleers a fighting chance...annnnd before you say anything, my favourite PvP character was (and is) a blaster. There's plenty amiss with I13 PvP, but the new suppression rules aren't the game-killer they're made out to be.

They really need to do something about Teleport in PvP, though. That much I agree.

A lot of common salvage is highly priced right now. That's right - commons, the white stuff, not the yellow or orange. The prices spiked when Issue 14 came out, and while they've recovered somewhat recently, there's still quite a lot of stuff that sells high. It might not sell for millions and millions, but selling something that'd get you 250 at a vendor for 5000-10000 is pretty good.

Second, what are you running? If you're cashing in Architect Entertainment tickets for DOs or SOs...well, it actually works out pretty good that way. DOs and SOs are quite cheap if you use tickets for 'em.

Between tickets and influence, I had no problems keeping a new character in DOs and SOs from 1-22, playing a combination of standard content and Mission Architect stuff.

As for IOs...well, see, sometimes common IOs can be more expensive than set IOs. If you're willing to Frankenslot set IOs at 25, however, you can get better returns from that - economically and percentage wise - than a bunch of regular IOs.

On another character, I spent about a million inf frankenslotting level 25 set IOs ... but I spent quite lavishly because I was impatient with my bids. I suspect it'd have been possible with slightly less. I got a cash influx from a friend to outfit that character, but just playing normally and not making any particular attempt at earning, I still had around 500-600k 'naturally' by that level.

[ QUOTE ]
Maybe States is so tough he doesn't need to protect the back of his skull. Wait...

That's it! Statesman wears that goofy half-helmet thing to show everyone that he's just too hard-core to wear sensible headgear! He's silently telling everyone "yes, I look ridiculous, but there's nothing you can do about it"! It's psychological warfare!

[/ QUOTE ]

Or maybe the faceplate does serve a protective function.

He's been dealing with Manticore for, what, twenty years now? And as we know, Manticore's an epic pain in the [censored-for-content]. I mean, he has an enema arrow and everyth---er, I mean, well, he's a figurative pain in the service entrance.

Anyway. Clearly, Statesman's mask protects him from being injured by excessive facepalming. He's super-strong and everything, he could seriously hurt himself, y'know.

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
He's not wearing it to hide his identity (everyone in CoH's world knows who he is), he wears it because it's his costume

[/ QUOTE ]

And an insanely stupid one at that.

[/ QUOTE ]

Well, the United States-themed colours and pattern - that's to be expected. The cape's a classic. I give him points for a belt that actually has practical storage compartments.

The faceplate? I dunno. I've always figured it was meant to be a nod to his POWER OF ANCIENT GREEK GOD origins.

OH HAI IM ZEUS LOL

Though I doubt the Greeks ran around with helmets that didn't protect the back of the skull, but let's give the man some artistic liberties here.

[ QUOTE ]
However, you have to admit that there's something satisfying about a battlefield that's more mobile. I like when tactics are more complex and movement in battle involves more variables.

[/ QUOTE ]

I hear you. And I agree with you in many ways. However, this doesn't discount the controller option - you're saying you don't want things locked down in absolute immobility.

So consider a primary like Illusion. They're not very good at freezing things in place. But they've got Phantom Army and Phantasm, which is pure chaos in a box. Nice damage, too.

Or take another defender, maybe a Radiation/ user. The debuffs don't lock things down, as such, but they will benefit your team greatly and let them kill faster. Sonic Blast as a secondary for defenders is also fantastic, because -resistance is an awesome debuff, especially when stacked with -resistance in the primary (like Rad has).

As others have noted, you may require more debuffs than you currently have when fighting AVs in the late game. It is possible your Kin may be enough, but a second debuffer would be valuable.

[ QUOTE ]
I had been considering a controller. Containment seems like our biggest issue. Otherwise it's taunt alone keeping mobs grouped. And though I like the idea of plant control, it offers little in the way of damage or grouping effects.

[/ QUOTE ]

Okay - Plant offers a lot of damage for a controller, actually. Seeds of Confusion, Carrion Creepers, and so on. You're correct in that it's not so good at clustering and grouping enemies, however. Not awful, but not fantastic.

Illusion offers great damage, but it's possibly the worst Controller set for clustering and control, since it's raw chaos with a lot of pets, and has utterly no immobilize powers.

Fire is similar - very good damage, but the controls in the set aren't that great. I think it's still a possibility, though, because a lot of Fire's work is done up close in melee range, which is where your team excels at.

Mind does reasonable damage for a controller, and is very good at locking things down. That said, most of Mind's controls don't freeze stuff in place, just neutralizes them. However, given you have a Kin on the team for Speed Boost and Transfusion, a Mind controller on your team would be able to get massive milage from Telekinesis as a positioning tool. If it's group clustering you're after, it doesn't get much better than good use of Telekinesis. That said, Telekinesis is a rather tricky power to use; it depends on the individual skill of the player joining you.

Gravity isn't bad, and might be what you're looking for. Decent single-target damage (from Propel, etc), and very unobtrusive graphics. Gravity's control potential comes from the fact that its pet, Singularity, doesn't really do damage - instead it adds even more control powers. Gravity also has Wormhole, a ranged foe group teleport, which can be very useful for repositioning enemies in the middle of combat - it seems that positioning and clustering of mobs is a priority to your melee-centric team. However, most of those tools come only later in the build.

Finally, we have Ice and Earth. These two powersets are very similar. These two, for my money, are the best pure control sets - they have a lot of excellent control powers that are easy to use, and a lot of the gems are available very early on. That's a strong advantage over late-maturing sets like Fire, Gravity, and to some extent Mind. It's very hard to mess up as an Ice or Earth controller. They don't do as much damage compared to their brethren, but I don't think damage-dealing is a high priority for a controller on a team like yours - you have enough firepower elsewhere. You might want to take a long hard look at Ice and Earth.

As for secondaries... I agree that Sonic buffs sound like a good idea, pun intended. I think /Radiation might work well also, though - the debuffs could be quite useful.

[ QUOTE ]
I'd have to give the first place nod to Invulnerability as well. Any time anyone mentions Stone as the top dog it comes with the Speed Boost caveat. Reliance on outside buffs is a weakness in my mind which puts stone behind Invulnerability and Willpower which are both "fire and forget" sets. Ultimately though Willpower winds up taking a back seat to Invulnerability due to the lack of a natural self heal.

[/ QUOTE ]

True. In fact I agree with you. The thing is...it all depends on your basis of comparison. What you've said is very true, if we're talking about tankers using basic SO builds.

IOs do change things. Inv gets really good with IOs. WP doesn't benefit as much. But Stone...

Thing is... if you throw enough money into a Stone tank, you can get enough +runspeed and +recharge to mitigate the slow effects of Granite. You still can't jump and your damage will suck, but most stoners take teleport anyway. One of my SGmates runs a Stone tank that's been kitted out like this. As she likes to say, Speed Boost is greatly appreciated, but not required for her.

However, her build is hideously expensive. Most Stone builds designed to mitigate Granite's weaknesses are, really. That does put it a bit beyond the casual player. Moreover, if she exemps...it really isn't pretty. It isn't pretty at all. Those could be considered weaknesses.

Should we consider IOs or pool powers when judging how good a powerset is? I dunno. I think it at least bears mentioning.

Agreed, really. Granite's uberness is well known. Inv got a lot of oomph from the recent buffs, and the changes to defense set bonuses (to make 'em provide both typed and positional). WP's always been great on a tank, since HP boost and regen go a loooong way on tank base stats.

Dark has resists across the board and an incredible heal, plus nice utility auras. Ice similarly has crowd control and survival toys, plus good def. Shield is similar, I think -built along the utility and team synergy philosophy, but the def's good enough and it benefits well from IOs.

I'm not sure about Fire. I don't have one, and I don't know any current Fire tank players. But though the base resistances aren't great, I'm sure fighting pool adds a lot of milage, and healing flames looks quite good. Plus, hell, if you're Fire/ you're probably flipping out and killing stuff anyway.

There aren't really any dud tank sets right now...there's nothing perceived to be really bad. I think most would agree Fire isn't as tough, but when it comes to ranking the rest, well...

I've played both WP and Inv tanks, plus I've discussed the sets a fair bit with friends who play 'em.

This is just an opinion...but the way I see it, out of the box, using a basic build, WP is better than Inv in most circumstances. As you rightly point out, WP does a lot, and does it quite well.

But if you throw enough IOs into Inv...well, a properly IO'd Inv will outperform an IO'd WP.

EDIT: I suppose I should explain that reasoning. Well, as others have pointed out, it's not hard to throw +def set bonuses on an Inv tanker and hit softcap versus most typed damage - including smashing/lethal. Everything except psi and of course toxic, really. And on such a tanker, with the way set bonuses work now, you'd have decent positionals also, against such damage.

You might even have enough slots left over for some +regen on the side. That's huge. Thus an IO'd Inv can have massive def, on top of good resistance, and maybe some +regen. It's also possible to cram a lot of recharge in there and get good milage out of Dull Pain. Maybe you can't do all those things at once, but it gives some idea of what a top-end Inv build can accomplish.

WP? Well, you can IO a WP for +def as well, but without Invincibility it doesn't go as far. You can softcap versus exotics, easily, but it'd be much harder to cap vs. S/L...or positionals, for that matter.

You can get quite a bit of milage putting +regen and +hp bonuses on a WP; obviously high HP and regen are WP's strengths. But regen can be overwhelmed more easily than high defense, so even that ain't always a winner.

Question:-

You've designed a staff/wand primary set. Which is cool. And you've got a secondary laid out too.

The primary definitely works with the staff out, yes - I take it so does the secondary? Meaning it's something like Trick Arrow and Archery? Using the powers requires you to draw the staff, and pairing one of these sets with any other would cause redraw?

Having two powersets that are...so closely designed to go with each other is a potential problem. You're billing these as powersets, rather than an entire AT (unlock requirements aside).

Trick Arrow and Archery suffer somewhat as defender sets, since people seem reluctant to pair them with anything else. There are exceptions, and I do know folks who play TA/Dark, Sonic/Archery, or whatever, but for whatever reason...theme, redraw, synergy... people tend to stick with the 'logical' combination.

That has adverse effects on the popularity of the set in general, as part of the appeal of the CoH power system is the ability to mix and match secondaries to give vastly different results. In a way, this represents a step backwards in terms of build customization options, not forward.

(QR) Well, the thing is...what you have here is very definitely a magic-origin powerset. It is incredibly specific.

Stuff like Assault Rifle, Archery, and the melee weapon sets have been brought up in this thread. But frankly I see a variety of origins using those - AR blasters are often Tech or Natural. Archery users are Natural, Tech, or even Magic. The melee weapons get used by a lot of different origins, really.

The Epic ATs have powersets tied to origin, yes. But they're a special case. So are the Mastermind pet sets. What you're proposing here is something new...you say you'd like to see more origin-specific powersets.

And perhaps that's a good idea. But I suspect the developers are really gonna go for powersets that are as broad as possible in potential usage. If you look at recent history, many folks were meh about Dual Blades and Shields in particular when we heard they were in the pipeline, precisely because they seemed too specific.

That said, since Positron's hinted that we're getting Dual Pistols and Demon Summoning soon, something as specific as your Wand/Staff powerset might be possible.

That still doesn't address the way you've set up the powers here. A lot of what you have represents new and unprecedented mechanics. That's not in itself a bad thing. New mechanics add variety. I am concerned that there's too much different - which again, limits the likelihood a developer will come in here and say 'whoa, this is awesome, we should totally do this'.

Historically, new powersets introduced by the developers have frequently done one, maybe two new things. Your proposed power lists are WHOA ZOMG WTF different - and as noted by other posters, possibly overpowered.

If something sounds too powerful, then it comes off more like a fantasy wish-list rather than a viable proposal for the developers to look at.

Arc Name: The Great Brain Robbery
Arc ID: 74191
Morality: Villainous
Creator Global: @Acyl
Difficulty Level: Easy to Moderate
Synopsis:

Contrary to what his enemies claim, Nemesis is actually just a nice old man. Don't believe the lies and slander! He's perfectly capable of dealing with people in a civilized fashion.

Nemesis needs your help. It's a very simple matter, really. All he wants to do is steal someone's brain. No backstabbing or double-crossing at all, oh no! He'd never dream of doing such a thing! This is definitely not a Nemesis Plot. Really. Perish the thought!

Estimated Time to Play: 30-50 minutes (4 missions)

Arc Notes:

This was designed for solo players and small teams. Mission 1 has an EB/AV fight as a required objective, Mission 4 has an optional EB/AV encounter. The final mission in this arc can be failed. This was done to provide a choice of two alternate endings, depending on what you decide to do.

Arc Name: Striking Midnight
Arc ID: 5361
Morality: Heroic
Creator: @Acyl
Difficulty Level: Moderate - Difficult

Synopsis: A mysterious group wants the Midnighters dead. And you're all that stands in the way. Can you save the Midnight Squad? Remember, no good deed goes unpunished.

Estimated Time to Play: 15-30 minutes (3 missions, but first couple of maps are small)

Notes: Sequel to the heroside Midnight Squad arc from Montague Castanella. A serious story, though there's some light dialogue. Final mission contains EB/AV (scales to an EB on heroic), with optional NPC allies for support. Uses tight indoor maps, so more suitable for small teams. NOTE: Enemies are supposed to be challenging, but not impossibly so.

* * *

Arc Name: Over Nine Thousand!
Arc ID: 6773
Morality: Villainous
Creator: @Acyl
Difficulty Level: Moderate

Synopsis: Meet the Power Broker. He's the man with a plan. He's got a scheme to make you stronger! More POWERFUL! Mightier than the love child of Statesman and Recluse! No, really. And it doesn't involve a diet or exercise, either. C'mon, whadda ya say?

Estimated Time to Play: 10-25 minutes (One mission only, linear map)

Notes: This is a SINGLE mission. Map is large, but easy to progress through in a straight line. Contains several optional boss fights, but no real AVs or EBs (only used as non-combat hostages). This is supposed to be comedy. Unless my writing fails, in which case it'll be tragedy instead...

* * *

Feedback would be very appreciated. I'd like to know what works and what doesn't.

Regarding all the criticism leveled at Jules and crew... I think she did a good job.

To me, the thing is this. If you want an interview to be nice and polished, all elegantly presented with no rough edges, it needs to be recorded. Stuff that goes out live - like this - is always going to be a bit awkward. That's the nature of the beast. You can't compare this to an edited podcast. When you're doing something live, you get weird pauses, people not sure what to say...and then there's the added pressure of knowing you're going out live.

A radio host can take steps to reduce that stress factor, but it's never easy.

I worked for a small station for a couple years, in old-fashioned broadcast radio. So I've got the greatest respect for anyone, both hosts and interviewees, who can pull off a live programme. I never did. I recorded all my work, and always cleaned it up at the console. I don't have the nerves for live broadcast.

Now, someone earlier in this thread recommended asking actual questions when conducting an interview. That's true, you need to, and it is the responsibility of the DJ to keep things moving and challenge the interviewee. Ideally, you'll have some sort of structure, a general framework of possible questions and points to bring up...though of course you'd want to discard some and throw in new ones depending on what folks say. Ask new questions based on the answer they just gave, poke them to elaborate on things, so on. How that's done...it depends.

I did a training course conducted by a couple guys from the BBC who were totally adamant that what you need to do is challenge your interviewee, actually try and put 'em on the spot. I never liked that, nor did most of my colleagues. The danger of that approach is you end up too confrontational. On the other hand, if you spend too much time praising the interviewee, it looks like you're a sycophant who only knows how to kiss posterior.

The folks at Split Infinity did a great job creating a laid-back atmosphere. It felt relaxed (well, anxiety-pokes at Jules aside =) and nice and friendly. That's excellent. Could it be better? I don't know. Again, that's difficult if it's a live show. Especially if you've got live audience feedback, like this one, via IRC and such. That's an added wrinkle.

All in all, I think it was well played.

This post will have absolutely no constructive content whatsoever. Got that? Good.

'cause I'm only posting to say that, in all seriousness, this guide made me roll an Archery blaster. He's level 18 now, and I find myself with an uncontrollable compulsive urge to shoot things with pointy sticks. I suspect when I actually get Rain of Arrows I'm going to completely lose motor control due to neurological shutdown or something.

Brilliantly written and entertaining guide. Kudos.

[ QUOTE ]
Can I just say you guys all just made my day?

[/ QUOTE ]
It is the nature of the community to analyse everything - it was only a matter of time before we latched onto that wonderfully written website content. =)

Honestly? It's a thought-provoking issue. Thematically speaking, the line between hero and villain...that's an old comic book question. Frostfire's an interesting take on the subject. It's pretty cool - pun unintended - that there's background material to give him depth. It makes a single Elite Boss mission far more interesting. And it's a lot of food for thought. If we take Frostfire as being representative of his gang, the Outcasts...

Hell, I've always wondered why they're called Outcasts. After reading that, it started to make sense. Frostfire views himself as Outcast. And maybe he really was treated badly. That's pretty cool. That's good storytelling. Makes you think.

Maybe Frostfire got a raw deal. But he's still the leader of an incredibly dangerous gang. Does his victim status legitimise everything he's done since? It does in his own mind, certainly - lex talionis, the law of retribution. I'm a victim, I have been wronged. You messed me up, therefore I'm justified in whatever I do to you. Being a victim makes me innocent.

Is that right?

Last couple of times I fought the guy...my ice tank, Flu Shot, kept referring to Frostfire as 'Calhoun', 'Lenny-boy', and 'hero-wannabe'. Flu Shot's always an mean little snot in RP, but that particular hook amused me, and it was well-received by a few folks. More seriously, though, Flu Shot really does have a hideously low opinion of Frostfire. Shot knows the story, but he doesn't feel sorry for him. In Shot's eyes, maybe Frostfire was a victim, but he's one who's become a worse transgressor.

That said, I'm fiddling with a story which has...perhaps a more sympathetic take. Yeah, I'm getting a lot from this. Fun stuff.

------
@Acyl

VIRTUE:
Syndesis -- 50 DM/Regen Scrapper
Superball -- 30 MA/Inv Scrapper
Obsolete -- 28 Rad/Rad Corruptor

(It occurs to me that Juliana Nehring is not, in fact, a reporter for the Paragon Times. According to the in-game text, she's freelance - she runs her own website. It's just that her name's been used as a byline for a few of the Paragon Times articles on the CoH page. My mistake.)

* * *

The train was late.

But I was wrong. Ms. Nehring didn't kill me, she just mauled me a little bit. Actually, she hit me with a pencil then yelled at me for breaking it.

I think she was kidding. I'm not certain. Kinda hard to tell. That pencil seemed fairly murderous. The lead was aimed right at my jugular. I swear, I could have gotten carbon poisoning. A slow and painful death.

Still, I'm honoured to receive such attention. Most villains want to kill me quickly. Sort of an 'ew, cockroach, SQUISH' deal. I'm not exactly a big-time hero, so I don't rate personalised deathtraps. Most criminals just try to shoot me rather than mess around with torture. They just wanna get back to whatever nefarious deed I interrupted, like downloading episodes of Desperate Housewives.

Juliana's different. She actually cares about me. Those threats to rip out my spine? They make me feel all warm inside.

I apologised, of course. With my very best smile. Unfortunately, my mask covered my entire face, but it's the thought that counts.

I started with the traditional "OH GOD, please don't kill me, I'm sorry, I'll never do it again, I swear", and tossed in a grovel or three.

Juliana looked disgusted. Or embarrassed. Maybe a bit of both. Which was good - it meant she wasn't angry anymore.

She whipped her head around, probably hoping nobody'd seen my little display. No such luck. The nice police officers guarding the crime scene were already pointing and staring.

Because when I make a fool of myself, I don't do it by halves. I'm a craftsman. I take pride in my work.

"Okay, okay," Juliana grumbled, "cut it out."

She hauled me to my feet - rather roughly, I might add - and gave me a shove in the direction of the cops.

The police had a little section of parking lot cordoned off. The place was one of those big multi-storey monstrosities, affording peons a spot to stash their automobiles on the cheap.

Apparently someone'd found another use for it. Like parking dead people.

Oh, the bodies weren't there anymore. But I could still tell.

Modern police don't do the chalk outline thing. That's just on TV. It contaminates the crime scene, see?

But there were a buncha lines on the ground. Not in chalk - but blood. Lots of blood. Sketching out some kinda sick ritual formation. The thing was grotesque, a positively Lovecraftian twisting of gore-splattered geometry.

It had a distinct shape, though, a weird kind of symmetry. It looked a bit like a compass rose - with a corpse at each cardinal point.

While there wasn't any chalk, the cops -had- left little plastic markers to indicate their positions. One for each body, probably near the head. Four of them. North, South, East, West.

How cute. Whatever will they think of next?

I'd seen worse, though. Smelt worse, too. Like my breakfast. So I could greet the cops with a nod and wave. Business as usual.

"'allo, 'allo," I chirped, "wot's all this, then?"

One of the cops, a grizzled old sergeant, gave a nasty look. The younger officer next to him laughed. A partial victory.

"Ha ha," Juliana muttered, from behind me, "this is the lunatic I was waiting for. Can we go in?"

Meanwhile, I produced my credentials. A Class H crimefighting license. Mind you, I'm not sure what good it does, since I've got my mask on in the picture. That sorta kills the point of photo ID.

Ours not to question why. Just one of Paragon City's many civic quirks, I guess.

The sergeant eyeballed the card for a moment, then grunted vaguely. His partner waved us through, letting us cross the police line.

The mess on the ground didn't look much better up close. That wasn't surprising, since it was a freaking giant symbol painted in blood. With four dead people. That kind of makes it icky by default.

There was another guy standing by the grisly display, kneeling on the concrete and examining it with an oversized magnifying glass. He was wearing street clothes, but had a MAGI tag clipped to his jacket.

"Yo," I said, as we approached, "I'm Superball, hero extraordinaire, and this is my loyal sidekick, Reporter Gir---OW!"

No, I didn't mean to say that. Reporter Gir---OW is a terrible superhero name. But Juliana didn't let me finish. She hit me upside the head with her recording kit.

"Juliana Nehring," she said, firmly, shoving me aside, "Paragon Times. I interviewed you last night?"

The investigator looked up, blinking. He was a black guy in his late 30s, with an incredibly dense pair of spectacles. "What? Oh. Yes...I recall. Is this the costumed friend you mentioned?"

"Not sure if 'friend' is the right word," Juliana muttered, folding her arms and glaring at me.

I gave her a wounded look and reeled, clutching my heart in faux agony.

Juliana kicked me in the shin. I didn't really feel it, since my boots are all clunky and armoured. But I yelped anyway.

"Be nice," she hissed.

Turning to the MAGI guy, she continued, "Mr Tyler, this is Superball. Superball, this is Eli Tyler from the Modern Arcane Guild of Investigation."

She stuck a thumb at me. "Could you tell him what you told me?"

Tyler fiddled with his spectacles, pushing them further up the bridge of his nose. He stood, tucking his magnifying glass away. "Oh, certainly," he said.

And then, he did just that.

After two seconds, I understood why Juliana wanted me to speak with this guy directly, rather than giving me a summary.

Clearly, Juliana was trying to kill me. Again. This time, by boring me to death.

Good GOD, could that man -talk-. In monotonous polysyllables, too. I tried to listen, but technical language has never really been my thing. Especially forensic magic. That combines two entire schools of technobabble gobblygook into a whole new Frankenstein monster of jargon.

It's enough to make my hair turn blue.

Well, okay, my hair's already blue, what with all the mutations and all. But that's not the point.

I could feel myself losing the will to stay awake. Until Tyler hit a sentence that grabbed my attention and broke its neck.

"Wait, wait, back up," I interrupted, "you said the victims were supers?"

"...well, they possessed innate paranormal abilities," Tyler waved a hand, "superpowers of a traditional nature. The Spengler flux of the residual life-energies indicates the subjects had a positive Tesla Index, and..."

I winced, and held my hands in surrender. "English, please," I begged, "simple words. Me hero, me stupid."

Juliana snickered.

Tyler gave both of us a disapproving look. "They were," he said with a frown, "mutants."

"What," I goggled, "you telling me this was some kinda racial hate crime? That anti-mutant stuff...it's only in the comic books, man."

"No," Juliana cut in, "they weren't just mutants. They were Outcasts."

Her words hit me like a kick to the head. I stopped, and stared. It's not often that I find myself with nothing to say. My mouth moves on autopilot. I wisecrack without my brain needing to intervene. But this time, I really -was- at a loss for words.

Outcasts. They were Outcasts.

So that's why Juliana dragged me out here. She -knew-. She'd called me around three in the morning, screaming about something I had to see. I told her whatever it was, it could damn well wait until I had some sleep.

I owed her an apology.

But when I turned to her, my throat was dry. It took effort to talk. Of course, the expression on her face said it all. Sympathy, and all that.

That annoyed me. Don't like people feeling sorry for me.

I managed to find my voice, and glanced at Tyler. "How'd you know? They wearing gang colours?"

The MAGI investigator pointed to the spots where the bodies had been found. "The victims were so attired, yes. Their clothing was consistent with higher-ranked members of the group, those with manifested elemental abilities."

I rubbed my forehead, armoured fingers scraping against the cowl. I could feel a headache coming on.

Outcasts. Dear Lord.

The Outcasts are a street gang. But not an ordinary one. They're mutants. Each and every one. A crazy-quilt of ice-slingers, flame-casters, lightning-zappers, and...hell, big guys who throw rocks. Really big rocks. Overgrown juvenile delinquents with superpowers. They preach this crazy fascist-comic-book-anarchist gospel about being born strong, might makes right, angst about being misunderstood by society...and so on, ad nauseum.

They'd just be a bunch of emo punks, except for the whole mutant powers thing. That makes 'em a pain in the rear for half the heroes in the city. Especially me.

I know 'em well. I know 'em very well.

Quietly, I asked, "Any names for these guys?"

"One," Tyler replied, "a forensic dentist was able to find a positive match for one of the victims, a Roger Johansson. Quite a criminal record. He broke out from the Zigursky Correctional Facility six months ago. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to identify the other three."

Roger. I knew Roger. The man was a nasty piece of excrement, but even he didn't deserve this. What I was looking at wasn't death, it was Pablo Picasso gone psycho.

"Lord," I whispered. It wasn't a swear. It was a very abbreviated prayer. "So let me get this straight. Somebody offed a bunch of Outcasts? Sacrificed them as some kinda magic ritual?"

"The officers I spoke to said they're treating the case as murder," Juliana said, consulting a little notepad with scribbles in shorthand, "but..."

Tyler shrugged, then pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "It's too early to say. We're not even sure how they died, precisely. The bodies were badly mutilated, but we don't know if that was the cause of death, or merely something done after. I can forward you the autopsy report once it's ready, along with my findings."

"Feh," I grumbled, "what's their malfunction? Goats and virgins no longer fashionable? Okay, so...any idea who's our mad slasher, then?"

"Sadly, no. The magic here is...unfamiliar to me," Tyler admitted. He scowled, as if taking the gap in his knowledge as a personal affront. "It does appear to have been a summoning of some sort, though I cannot say for certain...I don't know if the ritual was even successful, let alone what it produced."

"Probably calling out for pizza," I mused, "so...no clue who done it? Hellions? Circle? Pantheon? Carnival?"

Tyler spread his hands, palms open towards the sky.

I snorted. "Right. Gotcha."

While we were talking, Juliana had moved past us. Crouching, she squinted at the bloodstained concrete.

"What -I- want to know is...why Outcasts? Does someone have it out for them? And why here?"

I frowned, rubbing my chin. She had a point. We were in Skyway, just outside downtown proper.

Skyway's basically several blocks of bridges, a crossing point for the highways spanning the city. That makes it a veritable rabbit warren of concrete and steel, perfect nesting ground for a street gang. But Skyway ain't Outcast turf. It belongs to the Trolls.

Of course, the Trolls and Outcasts...they're at war. But the Trolls probably weren't responsible for this.

Magic isn't a Troll thing. They're bruisers, thugs hopped up on enough drugs to make a horse explode. Which would be fine, on its own. It's easier on us superhero types when the bad guys kill themselves.

Except they take friggin' superadine. Or dyne, as it's called on the street. Now, the Trolls ain't the only gang of dyne addicts in the city. But they're the only ones who take it to an -extreme-. The Trolls pop enough of the stuff to turn their skin green and grow horns.

A hopped-up Troll can headbutt through a freaking -wall-. Because they don't have to worry about brain damage. The drugs already do that.

Your average Troll spends the day wandering around in rage-filled narcotic bliss, untroubled by the burden of coherent thought.

The Trolls -might- have ripped up these guys for just wandering into their territory, but they wouldn't have made a bloody MC Escher painting with the corpses. They don't have the intelligence for that kind of magic. Hell, they don't have the -attention span-.

So what the hell happened here?


* * *

(Next Episode: Superball goes hunting. "I hate mysteries. Villains always think they're smarter than me.")

* * *

Tossing my cereal bowl in the sink, I grabbed my costume. It didn't smell very fresh, but compared to the milk it was sweet perfume.

Pulling the suit on, I dove into the bathroom to check myself in the mirror. Yanking the mask down, I adjusted the goggles, tugged on the gauntlets - and took a good long look at my reflection.

Working clothes.

I used to hate spandex. Wouldn't have been caught dead in the stuff. But the costume's part of the job, so I've learnt to adjust.

If I die in this thing...well, I'll just be an embarrassed corpse. Them's the breaks.

Mind you, superheroes have raised spandex to a fine art. It ain't just silly stretchy material anymore. No, they have -special- spandex. Bulletproof. Fireproof. Made of unstable molecules or whatever. There's spandex that costs more than my freakin' -rent-.

My costume isn't that upmarket, but I still had to take a flipping bank loan to afford the stupid thing.

But at least it looks good.

Well, maybe not -good-, but okay. An improvement.

Back when I started this superhero gig, the only spandex I could afford was old workout gear from the Salvation Army. It didn't make a very good costume. I looked like some kind of insane aerobics instructor.

Not exactly the kind of thing that strikes fear into the hearts of villains. Unless they're obese couch-potato villains or something.

'course, for all I know, there really -is- some freak out there robbing banks with a beer-belly and TV remote. This is Paragon City, weird capital of the universe. This kind of stuff happens all the damn time. We get alien invasions once a week, time-travelling Nazis holding up the queue at Starbucks...I swear, if the government started issuing colour-coded warnings, we'd be on Condition Plaid by Tuesday.

And I hate plaid.

There's a reason Paragon's got the highest number of superheroes in the world. Weird calls to weird.

But what's really strange is...the city's -proud- of it. Don't ask me why. They even put it on all the tourism ads. Paragon City, USA. "City of Tomorrow - City of Heroes". You can get it engraved on a souvenir ashtray. And not cheapest plastic, either, one of those frosted glass deals.

It's true. City of Heroes. Can't throw a brick in this town without braining some loon inna cape.

It's crazy. There's this whole -culture- built around the powered set. Weapon stores, costume boutiques, hell, there's even a pocket-dimension nightclub that hopes around town like a Tardis on crack.

It's insane. It's utterly, utterly, -insane-. But nobody gives it a second thought.

I sure as hell didn't, back before my lifestyle change. I didn't -like- heroes, but I never questioned their presence. They were just...y'know, a fact of life. Like death and taxes.

But now I'm one of 'em...yeesh.

Still, I'm not complaining.

Back in the bad old days, superheroes -needed- secret identities. They were on the fringe, outside the law. Now? Hell, we're all -licensed-. Government-backed and everything. Police powers, authority to arrest...

We're legit.

Being a superhero, it's a respectable career. Sure, the pay sucks, but there's no social stigma. Hell, there's even prestige.

So most heroes don't bother with the secret identity thing.

I don't. Not really.

My landlady knows I'm a superhero. She doesn't cut me any slack on the rent, but she likes having me as a tenant. I keep the place secure. Sure, there's always a danger of my work following me home, but it's not like I'm big enough to draw personal attention. But I -am- big enough to put the fear of God into the piss-poor little street gangs infesting this neighbourhood.

So it's all good.

And because I don't have to worry about blowing my cover, I can do things like flying straight out my bedroom window.

Which is exactly what I did.

Of course, it'd be cooler if I actually flew all the way across the city.

As it is, I only zipped to the nearest train station, then started waiting for the next northbound on the yellow line.

What? Look, that whole up-up-and-away spiel is TIRING, okay? Defying gravity isn't exactly effortless. It burns energy. I'm not saying flying isn't fun, but damnit, the Paragon Transit Authority gives out free hero passes for a -reason-, and I'm damn well gonna USE mine.

All the smart heroes do.

Besides, it's faster than flying. I was in a hurry.

I figured if I didn't get to Skyway in another 15 minutes, Juliana was gonna kill me.


* * *

(Next Episode: The plot sickens. Superball meets CSI. "What, you telling me this was some kinda racial hate crime? That anti-mutant stuff...it's only in the comic books, man.")

Been working on this for a while, and figured...heck, I'll just post. Hopefully, someone out there will like it. Here's a little something from Superball, my wisecracking scrapper on Virtue. A hero in spite of himself.

I'll probably update at least once or twice a week, until this is done. For now, enjoy...

* * *

FOUR SEASONS SHUFFLE

* * *

I'm not a morning person.

Left to my own devices, I'll gladly sleep the day away. Me and the sun, we're not exactly on speaking terms. But it's not my fault, okay? I work most nights, so our schedules don't exactly match. Besides, the sun's a nasty little creep. He never writes, he never calls, I don't think I ever meant anything to him.

I hate mornings.

But I don't have a choice. Not today. I've got an appointment.

Still, getting out of bed, that's a pain and a half.

Groaning, I hauled myself off the mattress, slinging aside the covers. Stumbling on the floor before regaining my balance. Blearily, I peered at the clock on the beside table. Electric green digits blinked merrily.

I swear, the damn thing was laughing at me.

I'd set the alarm to go off an hour ago. It had. I'd spent the last sixty minutes hammering the snooze button at five-minute intervals.

Look, I really hate mornings, okay?

Bleh.

At least the room was still dim. Not much light filtering through the blinds. Enough to see by, but not enough to be irritating, what with my eyes still sensitive from the coma of sleep.

Small comfort.

I headed for the bathroom, and parked myself over the sink. I looked in the mirror, and my reflection stared back - hair mussed, unshaven, a livid bruise running down the left cheek.

Gingerly, I touched it - then immediately wished I hadn't. Ow.

I swore. Not at anyone in particular, just in general.

But honestly, it wasn't so bad.

Considering I'd gone to bed with a broken jaw.

The worst of it had healed overnight. The only injuries left were just cosmetic.

Still hurt like hell, though.

Picking up the toothpaste, I squeezed out a tiny bead of minty freshness. The tube was nearly empty, so it took some doing. Then I brushed my teeth. Between the miniscule amount of toothpaste and the state of my toothbrush bristles, it didn't really do much for dental hygiene.

But it got the taste of sleep out of my mouth. That counts.

I splashed some water on my face, and stared at the mirror again. I still looked like crap, but at least I was marginally awake crap.

Shaving was probably a bad idea, with my face like that. So I skipped that.

Briefly, I considered a shower. But hell...I was clean enough. And water's expensive. I was late on the bills as is.

Hygiene’s overrated, anyway.

So I just fixed my ponytail and headed out. Grabbed a couple of aspirin from the bathroom cabinet on the way. Painkillers. Elixir of the Gods. I think the guy at the neighbourhood store worries about me. I tend to clean out his stock on a weekly basis.

Screw him. I can't help it. It's not like I'm addicted or anything. I need the damn things. With my lifestyle, it's that, or run around screaming like a little girl the whole day.

I headed to the kitchen. Well, kitchenette, anyway. My miserable little apartment's too small for a proper kitchen. Just a scarred counter, a couple drawers, and aging appliances predating the Industrial Revolution. Not quite a kitchen. But close enough for government work.

Opening the wheezing mini-fridge, I looked at my food supply. I didn't have many breakfast options. There was bread, but it was stale. It was stale when I got it. Fresh food? That's for people with money.

Still, sufficiently charred...it could make decent toast. I figured.

But I didn't want to fire up the toaster. Fire up, literally. Last time I used the thing, it tried to kill me. Luckily, the burns healed fast. But people were asking me weird questions for a -week-. By Wednesday I was telling folks I'd been mugged by a Clockwork boss named Toaster Prince.

So bread was out. I didn't feel like going one-on-one with my kitchen appliances so early in the day.

That left menu B.

I snagged a bowl of cereal and my pet carton of milk. The cereal was stale, too...but I wasn't worried about that. The milk hid the taste, mostly.

Especially since the milk was two weeks past its expiry date.

I stuck a spoon in it and called it breakfast. It'd do.

I began shovelling cereal into my mouth. It didn't taste very good, but it was food. And I wasn't worried about food poisoning.

I don't get sick. I heal too fast for that.

I can deaden my taste buds, too. Not much, but enough. I'd have had trouble forcing this crap down, otherwise.

Taste bud control. Such a lifesaver. Saved my sanity a couple years back, on a truly awful date.

Not that it happens a lot. I don't have much of a sex life. Bacteria get more action that I do.

Look at the milk. The bacteria in there? They're definitely getting more than me. Having lots of little bacteria-babies.

Lift spoon. Chew. Swallow.

Ugh. Even suppressing the gag reflex...

...bleh.

Mind, if nothing else, this breakfast might be effective in combat. Biological weapon. Some thug punches me in the stomach. I vomit all over him. Victory.

It works for zombies, right? I mean, I've had corpses puke on me dozens of times. Dr. Vahz might be a whiz at reanimating bodies, but he can't seem to wire a stomach right. Bless his black heart. If he still has one after all that reconstructive surgery, anyway.

Of course, much more of this breakfast, and I might need reconstructive surgery.

So when the distraction came, I welcomed it.

My laundry was ringing.

Now, contrary to what my landlady thinks, I do organise my clothes. I have them nicely sorted, in two piles - soiled and unsoiled.

Look. My flat's too freaking tiny to fit a washing machine. At least by any mundane means. And I'm not desperate enough to break the laws of reality for just a modern convenience. Especially one I can't afford.

But hand-washing clothes takes time. And visiting the laundromat takes money. I don't have much of either.

That means a big pile of dirty clothes.

Doing the Nokia tango.

Well, kinda, anyway. It wasn't a phone ringing, nothing so passé.

No, my suit was ringing. The cowl, anyway. I fished around in the clothes pile and pulled out the offending article, pulling it over my head.

Putting on my game face, I ran through the mnemonics for the role. Slightly nasal whine, excessive cheeriness...

"Yo," I said, with an enthusiasm I didn't feel, "Superball's House of Heroism. How can I hurt...I mean, help you this fine morning?"

There was a groan on the other end. My caller didn't appreciate the joke. Which was okay. I didn't either. But bad humour's part of the persona. I've got standards to maintain. All part of the job, see?

"...right," she said, after a moment. It was Juliana. She's a reporter, one of the best in the business. She works the costume beat, and passes info to me and other heroes. We've got a good working relationship. Emphasis on 'working', though. I asked her out, once, but it didn't go too well. She was rather pissed at my keeping the mask on the whole evening.

In retrospect, I sorta see her point. It clashed with the rented tux.

"Ha, ha, funny," she was saying, her voice rattling from the tiny speaker in my ear. She didn't sound amused, though, more like she was gonna rip my entrails out and string 'em from the rafters. "You're late. Where the HELL are you?"

"Uhhhhhh..."

I flicked my goggles on, and glanced at the time display. Oh crap.

"...on my way, sorry. Got, uh...delayed, there was...a crime, see. The Seventh Street Shamleggers knocked over an alcohol store with a bulldozer, but the bulldozer ate them. It was hungry, and..."

"Superball?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Shutting."

"Just hurry."

"Yes, ma'am."

She hung up.

I hurried.


* * *
(Next Episode: Superball meets spandex. Superball meets public transport. "This is Paragon City, weird capital of the universe.")

Very nice work. Brilliant characterization. Definitely one of the best origin writeups on this board. Kudos. Insert other words of praise here, because I'm tired.

*applause*