_Essex_

Blightlord scares the hell out of me. T_T

One thing I don't like about him and his minions though is that they're un-freaking-stoppable. I mean, the whole point of a mastermind is that the MM himself is pretty squishy and he has all these minions to protect him. And even then, in order to balance it against the other ATs, the individual minions aren't as strong as PCs. I mean, come on. When I first met Devious in game, he pitted me against Schwarzherz' medic. I'm an Empathy Defender and I won. <_<

Blightlord, however, screams way out of the park when it comes to power and abilities.

Now don't get me wrong. In threads where you're the GM, that's fine. I mean, we're on his turf - and that's a damned good way to control your players.

But in other threads, you've gotta preserve the balance. :3

But from a strictly character standpoint, he's very evil and very scary. T_T I also like the personalities of your minions - but you know, we haven't seen all of them. :3

I'm taller than two feet!

*furiously stands on tip-toes* D:

Essex's skimming came to an abrupt halt when she saw the scene.

Kairaishi, Rulaag, and Ozell? ...Why were they fighting?

"...What in the..." she murmured.

"What's going on here?" she called out above the winds, the next moment. Her first instinct was to synthesize a sonic lullaby and get people to calm down, but she knew that it sometimes hit very selectively -- and if the wrong people were hit, things could go very badly...

Hey, that's a good idea, Leo. :3 Remind me to do that next year.

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[ QUOTE ]
And so, as Hallucinogen advised, should we all.


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*cough cough choke cough* Accckkk......! Corniness...cutting off bloodflow....to my BRAIN...!!!

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<_< Shaddap, Mr. 'Somewhat Skeptical.' >_>

*pout* Okay, I just won't write any more stories. D:

((I lol'd. <.< Better post this before it's THREE MONTHS LATE.))

Stave Five: The End of It

Bear’s heart pounded as he stared blankly at the clothing that was cushioning the blow of his fist. His breath heaved in and out, heavy with the tension that he had been so desperately holding in throughout the phantom’s discourse.

“…I’m home.” he finally murmured to himself. “I’m home…this is my closet. And my bed, and my clock…and…” The Raptor agent raised a hand to his face uneasily, feeling his cybernetic eye in disbelief. “It’s all here. It’s all still here.”

His step picked up as he flung open the door to his bedroom, looking about the small living room. Everything was in its place where he had left it the night before.

“There’s my TV. I still don’t know how that crazy woman pulled herself out of it. And that’s the corner where Vern was sitting. And my arrows are still there.” Taking a deep breath, Bear let his face turn up into a small, determined smile. “The future isn’t locked into place. I still have time.”

He paused, for a moment, his face still in its little grin as he stared up at the ceiling. “Listen, Truefeather, and the rest of you freaks. I got your message loud and clear, no question about that. But let’s get one thing straight right now – if I’m gonna commit to any big life changes, I’m going to do it my way.”

With that, Bear loosely pulled on clothes for outside, his gaze fixed and faraway. “What do I do first…” he mused to himself. “Gotta go out, gotta do something. I can’t just stay here. What should I do? Nothing inside. Gotta go outside.” Almost without a thought, he grabbed up his bow, slung it on his shoulder, and hurried out. A moment passed, before he came back in. “[censored].” he muttered. “Brush my teeth an’ shave.”

Bear was on his way to the bathroom when he paused, hearing the sound of the churchbells ringing out across the city. “…That’s right…” he mused. “It’s Christmas, isn’t it? …I think it is. I think. I can’t be sure.” With that, he walked to his window and promptly opened it, leaning out and looking down to scan the streets eight floors below. A single boy trailed along the sidewalk, hands shoved in his pockets. The Wyvern recognized him as Ozell, the boy from the previous day. Biting his lip for a moment in hesitation, he shook his head, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“OZELL!” he bellowed.

The boy recoiled as if he had been struck, reflexively bringing up both hands to cover, but upon a quick glance around and seeing there was no-one there, he brought his hands down. Ozell looked about quizzically for the source of the voice, remaining oblivious until Bear called down a second time.

“OZELL!!” he hailed him again, his breath making clouds in the sharp, exhilarating cold. “Up here, kid!”

At that, Ozell glanced up, suddenly smiling rather worriedly at seeing his would-be attacker all-but hanging out an eighth-story window and waving at him. “Uh, good morning, sir!” Ozell called back in turn.

“Hey, Ozell, tell me – what’s today?” Bear yelled down.

The boy blinked. “Uh…What?”

“You heard me, kid! What day is it today?”

Ozell stared up at Bear as if he had suddenly sprouted another head. “…It’s December 25th. Christmas Day.”

“Holy [censored]. It IS Christmas.” Bear muttered aloud, but beyond the range of Ozell’s hearing. “So that really was all one night. I didn’t miss it. Those freaks really know what they’re doing.” Realizing that Ozell was still waiting down below expectantly, he cleared his throat. “Of course it is!” he bellowed. “Listen, Ozell! You know the police station down the street?”

“Uhm…Yeah?”

“Good! I knew one of you heroes was good for something! I need you to go there and look into their Rogue Isles files. I want you to scrounge up every single bit of information you can on a villain by the name of Void Brawler – surveillance files, Hero Corps reports, known associates, everything.”

Ozell blinked. “Uh… I don’t have the proper credentials yet to get that kind of information, sir!” he called up.

“Wait there!” Bear yelled down, disappearing from view. Ozell waited in a state of puzzled surprise until he reappeared in the window. “Hold still, kid!”

The next moment, the white-haired boy barely restrained a yelp as an arrow thudded into the ground at his feet, the steel head neatly cracking the sidewalk. Tied around it was some paperwork and a twenty dollar bill.

“Take those credentials to the detective!” the Raptor shouted. “And the twenty bucks is for you! Now get goin’! And if they give you any trouble, come on back and get me and I’ll show ‘em a REAL problem!”

Ozell was off the next moment, sprinting over the sidewalk towards the police station rather happily and imagining what he could do with twenty dollars.

Bear, in the meantime, grinned and rubbed his hands together, his circulation pumping with the brisk cold from the window. “Heh heh, this ought to be good.” he gloated to himself. “I’ve got more access than they do. There’s gotta be something in there they don’t know.”

Ozell returned with a large box full of file folders and photos, staggering a little under its weight, just as Bear reached the bottom of the stairs in his heavy black coat. “Here you are, sir!” the boy’s voice came muffled from under his burden.

“Good kid.” Bear grunted, whacking Ozell on the back and nearly making him lose his grip. “I’ll take it from here. Now, get out of here and have a Merry Christmas.”

With that, he took the large box from Ozell and pressed another twenty into the boy’s hands. “S-sir, you already gave me twenty dollars!” Ozell called after him in disbelief.

“Shut up and take it! It’s Christmas!” Bear barked back rather cheerfully as he made his way down the street, burden in his arms. It was a heavy box, to be sure, but it felt light in his grip, as though it weighed no more than a feather.

The Raptor agent walked down the street, and he found with some surprise that he was humming. What was he humming? What was the tune? Jingle Bells, he determined after a brief search of his thoughts. No matter. People were staring at him, as he walked, unshaven, down the street, humming to himself.

“What’re you gawkin’ at!?” Bear snapped at one Hellion, who promptly recoiled and looked ready to engage the fetal position. “N-nothing sir! I wasn’t doing anything, sir!” the youth cried.

“Good!” the Raptor barked. “And a Merry Christmas to you, y’scum!”

This seemed to only elicit more stares, but Bear didn’t care. No, he had places to be. He glanced at the files in his arms, only to nearly trip over a smaller-statured boy.

“Hey, look out!” the boy yelled, sounding rather miffed, and when Bear looked down, he saw that it was Ian, the boy from yesterday. His companion, Billyboy, was snickering a few feet away but promptly stopped upon coming under Bear’s notice. When Ian noticed who it was, his face took on a similarly grey shade. “S-sorry,” he muttered under his breath, picking himself up.

“Come on. Straighten up.” came Bear’s reply, accompanied with a grin. “What’re you two young heroes doing standing like stiff shirts when it’s Christmastime? Don’t you have anything better to do than stand around with a sullen look on your faces?”

“Well…” Billyboy started a snappy response, but Bear interrupted him. “If this is what tomorrow’s heroes are coming to, then maybe you kids do need some guidance. Listen. You caught me in a [censored] mood yesterday, so how about I make it up to you. I’ll talk at your school, and I’ll bring along some surveillance tapes of some of our biggest stings. How about that?”

The two boys stared, glancing at each other briefly before returning their stares to Bear. “Are you serious?” Ian asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Course I’m serious,” Bear scoffed. “Tell you what. I’ll even bring in some souvenirs. Snake fangs, a Fortunata mask, even one of my old pieces of bodyarmor that got zapped up by those god damned gremlins.”

“…Freakin’ awesome!” Billyboy said, looking excited. “We’re gonna have the best presentation of anyone!”

“Long as it’s better than Shane’s.” Ian muttered, looking back up to Bear. “Hey, thanks, Lt. Bear!”

“No problem, kids.” The Wyvern smirked. “Merry Christmas and all.” With that, he continued on his way, a sure destination in mind.

Quietly, he slipped to the door of Burning Brawler’s apartment building. Glancing back and forth to make sure he wasn’t seen, he muttered to himself as he squinted at the tenant directory.

“Warren, Warren, Warren…” he grumbled, before finally finding the doorbell. Pressing the button eagerly, Bear was suddenly struck with slight panic upon finding that it was, in fact, an intercom system.

“Merry Christmas…” came Danica’s unsure voice. “Who is this?”

“U-uh… Christmas delivery for you and your old man, lady!” came a bewildered, frightened, and unfamiliar male voice.

“Oh…uh, all right. I’ll be right down,” Danica’s voice said again.

Bear released the unfortunate Outcast he had grabbed off the street and held at arrowpoint to make the call, who promptly scurried off as fast as he could, his heart pounding with the impact of his near-death experience. Bear himself, however, swiftly moved around the corner, holding out a steel arrow and watching the reflection.

Danica came downstairs warily, ready to unleash her fury if it was some sort of a prank. Her eyes fell on the box of files, and she bent down curiously to go through them. Bear saw her eyes widen, and she picked up the box and hurriedly retreated inside.

“Heh…” the Raptor said with a grin, putting away the arrow. It felt good, though he was loath to admit it.

Glancing up at the clock, Bear realized with some surprise that it was now afternoon. Wandering through Atlas by now, he saw the entrance to Perez Park, and immediately paused.

“I wonder…” he thought to himself, beginning to pace towards the hazard area. Soon, he found his steps turned towards the Repliforce Paragon base entrance, the secret grove of trees hidden within the maze of Perez’ formidable forests. His hand hesitated only a moment before he pressed his fingertip onto the pad, activating databases and allowing him in.

The room was just the way Vern had showed him, with food spread out all over the briefing table. Not many were in the greeting area, and most of the noise was coming from farther in, but the sound of the teleporter caught Essex’s attention.

“Merry Christmas?” she greeted hesitantly. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me.” Bear called out gruffly. “What’s a man got to do to get some eggnog around here?”

At that, Hallucinogen whirled around in shock, and Essex leapt to her feet. Most of the others in the room turned in bewilderment as well, surprised that Bear even acknowledged the existence of holidays, let alone attend a party.

“Lieutenant Bear!” Hal yelled, starting forward, his eyes shining. “You came! I didn’t think you--”

“Now hold up there, kid.” Bear snarled, holding out a hand. “I’m here for the party but don’t go touching me or anything. It’s Christmas and I wouldn’t want to have to kill you.”

“Heh, fair enough.” Hallucinogen said with a grin.

The crowd gathered laughed, though somewhat uneasily, and most people relaxed and went back to their conversations. Everyone was just the same as he had seemed before. Essex seemed infinitely happy to see him, the little reploid doting on him and attending him, almost unable to believe that he was there, having fun, of his own free will. It was glorious, and Bear found himself having a better time than he had had in years.

Finally though, it was time to go home, and Bear spent the night plotting. He would wake up early and go to the patrol meeting place half an hour before he had scheduled. Oh, if only Burning could be late. Bear smirked to himself at the thought, as he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Bear stood in the cold waiting. He looked at his watch. Nine O’clock. No Burning. Quarter after. No Burning. Finally, he could see the man hurrying down the steps of the tram at twenty minutes after nine, a flustered look on his face and his hands already ablaze as if to get a head start on the day. Bear eyed the man with a supremely disparaging look – the most scornful look he could muster.

“Look who finally showed up.” The Raptor growled, narrowing his eye at Burning.

“Sorry.” Burning said, shifting his eyes away from Bear guiltily. “I know, I know, I’m late…”

“[censored] yes, you’re [censored] late.” Bear barked, causing a pair of Security Level Five heroes to stop in their tracks and scurry the other way. “Get your [censored] over here.”

“But, Christmas…” Burning pleaded, scratching the back of his head with a frown. “My wife and I spent all day running around yesterday, and—”

“Now you LISTEN to me.” Bear growled in Burning’s face, radiating menace from every pore. “If we’re going to patrol, then we’re going to [censored] patrol. And with the way you’ve been patrolling? Tch, I’ve got half a mind to recommend that they sign us up for a Task Force over in the Oakes.”

Burning’s hands twitched a little as flames leapt to life and he stared at Bear warily. He’d asked for this multiple times, and Bear bringing it out now? Both of them knew how often and desperately Burning pleaded for this position, for the purpose of searching out Void, but …it was so out of character for Bear…

“You’ve been spending too much time around the Carnies.” Burning said cautiously. “I think you’d better hit the hospital.”

“Oh come on.” Bear said with a roguish grin. “Merry Christmas, Burning. You deserve it. I heard about your kid, and I’ll do what I can to help you out. I got connections in the Isles that have all sorts of information that we could get our hands on. And maybe, just maybe…we’ll be able to get him back before next Christmas.”

Bear was better than his word. He and Burning were soon headed to the Rogue Isles, with a trunkful of leads and a fistful of arrows and flames. He was still the same brusque, sharp man he had always been, but there was a noted difference now in the way he interacted with people – the citizens of Paragon City began to see him as one of their top vigilante heroes, brutal to his enemies but legitimately concerned for the welfare of those who needed his assistance. He himself enjoyed his position more than he had before, taking on his tasks with a much more lighthearted determination than he had ever allotted himself, and enjoying his work that much more.

Though he still interacted with the spirit world on a regular basis, he never again entertained them unexpectedly in the night, and one day, upon a chance encounter with Truefeather, he couldn’t help but pause. The young woman drifted past him with her ephemeral smile and a slight nod, before she was gone again, off to goodness knows where. Bear could only nod back with a grim smile, knowing that forever after he would employ the knowledge of how to keep Christmas – determined to keep it better than all the rest – the season of hope, generosity, and kindness.

And so, as Hallucinogen advised, should we all.

-End-

Essex sighed.

It had been a long day, as it always was, and now she had packed in her little Knives of Artemis costume and was headed home for Perez Park. Crossing through Atlas, she noticed a patch of inclement weather over the park.

"...What in the world?" she murmured, changing directions towards it. "Either someone is toying with the poor Hellions, or there's really something going on...Either way..."

She skimmed off towards the tornado, biting her lip in worry.

Nena: *limps into the thread, having been drained heavily* *Clears throat*

"815: It's a bad idea to fight a Wraith at Level 2, especially when the rest of your stupid party BAILS on you."

Okay!

I've been meaning to do this, so I took a look at the Paragon University thread.

Phoenyx -

You have a very consistent style. One thing that I've noticed about your characters is that you're very skilled at putting for the emotions they're feeling at the time. You're never unclear about how they are supposed to feel, and I can tell that you've put a lot of thought into them as well. They're very reactive. :3

The one thing I would suggest to you is to join more threads - the posts that I read weren't particularly actiony, but more dialogue and domestic sort of posts. Which, don't get me wrong, I am a huge fan of such posts as they are essential for character development - but I'd love to see you shine in a setting where we can see how your characters react to physical threats, and express themselves in high-stress situations. :3

I have nothing but love for you, Prodiguy, and while I -did- see the post on Sidekick Island, hell...

...I'm an /artist./ <_< I get twitchy about people copying my characters, whether they mean to or not. Right or wrong, I certainly understood where you were coming from.

Besides, seeing your posts always makes me smile. XD

I liked it a lot. :3 I like your writing style, it's very descriptive. You're very well-suited to storywriting. The only suggestion I would make, would be in RP posts to break up the paragraphs a little to make them easier to read.

I'm actually considering joining that RP...

"Huh?"

Rosie released Allen, and looked over to Kip quizzically.

"Whassamatter?" she mused. "You allergic to dogs?"

Rosie shook Kip's hand with a grin.

"The name's Rosalind. I'm a cop. Well...uh... more like a detective that gets to impale things. Spirit things, anyway...It's good to meet you, man!"

Turning back to Allen, she was about to make a dry comment about the Malta when he presented her with the necklace.

"...Wow." she said, her eyes widening. Carefully holding it, she looked over it in surprise, how it seemed to glow serenely all on its own.

"...Y'know, Allen..." she said, her grin softening into a little smile. "This reminds me...of my Equinox moon. When I became a were-human. It hung in the sky just like this...and watched everything happen below."

Rosie strung the necklace about her neck, letting it hang down as a second layer below her collar, and turned to her visitor with a smile. She tossed her arms around him, hugging Allen tightly.

"Thanks. It's beautiful." she murmured. "It means a lot that youre here."

"Dumpster? Eh?" Rosie's wag picked up. "AWESOME! I'll probably find it tomorrow. <3 C'mon in, man."

She opened up the door wider for Kip to come in. Behind her, he could see the printing presses of the tabloid, along with several cubicles. Balsk and Allen were inside as well, and the girl with dog ears and a tail seemed awfully friendly.

"We picked up some of the clean pieces and are havin' lunch." she said with a grin.

Rosalind: <_< Yeah, silver is bad. >_>

I don't know. I think as long as you're with people you're cool with, LARPing wouldn't be so bad. 'Cause like, isn't that what we do as kids? Run around and play pretend?

Damn, it'd be nice to do that again.

"Hahaha." Rosie giggled. "Technically yeah, the Dread Trio is in charge of this branch of the Soul Police, but --"

The buzzer rang, and she blinked behind her at the door.

"Gimme a sec, guys, I'mma get that."

With that, she neatly ducked out from under Allen's arm and went to the door, opening it and leaning on the doorframe.

"What can I do for ya, bud?" the were-human asked genially, arms crossed and her human face in a light grin.

Lord Diov: 21
Khellendrosiic: 23
Hallucinogen: 20
Essex: 26
Prodiguy: 20
The Soviet: 21
Lazarus: CRY MOAR'D
Devious Me: 20
Burning Brawler: 20
Arashi: 21
Halo Inc: PAIN TRAIN'D ( But +2 Awesome)
Billy Boy: 20
Leo Gunner: ARROW'D
Pheonyx: 20
Mithril Zeta: 20
Cowman: TROLL'D
Moiread Scott: 20
Seikon: MENTAL BLAST HEAD EXPLODE'D
Coldfire Kaiser: HEAD SHOTT'D
Mr Grey: 21
Ozell One: 20

Don't worry, Diov. When the time is right.

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Can I make a blaster that runs around yelling "HEAL" "HEAL" every time I aggro something?

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I'd be the Scrapper that yells "WATCH THIS!!" And charges 20 enemies.

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>_> *Healbot resists urge to murder*

Damned Hippocratic oath.

Yeah... I miss D&D. Since I moved out here for my job, my whole troupe is on the other side of the state.

I probably would never get to play if my fiance didn't live over there too. <_<

But yeah. Listen to Grey and Memphis. :3 I've only experienced V:TM third-hand.

Lawl, Devious, I made YOUR brain explode this time!

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Looking (quickly) at their website, it looks like Requiem's the RPG - so nothing more disturbing than rolling a large pile of dice should probably happen.

[/ QUOTE ]

Gah! *fidget fidget* You're probably right... I haven't gotten into that genre TOO extensively. Listen to the one who knows what they're talking about. T_T But it just goes to show you! Do your research!

Lord Diov: 21
Khellendrosiic: 25
Hallucinogen: 20
Essex: 27
Prodiguy: 20
The Soviet: 22
Lazarus: CRY MOAR'D
Devious Me: 20
Burning Brawler: 20
Arashi: 21
Halo Inc: PAIN TRAIN'D ( But +2 Awesome)
Billy Boy: 17
Leo Gunner: ARROW'D
Pheonyx: 20
Mithril Zeta: 20
Cowman: TROLL'D
Moiread Scott: 20
Seikon: MENTAL BLAST HEAD EXPLODE'D
Coldfire Kaiser: HEAD SHOTT'D
Mr Grey: 20
Ozell One: 20

Gah! *Fidget* I don't want to be a point of contention!! Diov, do you care if I... *whisper whisper whisper*

Um, hm. That's kind of a jump.

If I were you, I would make the transition from board to tabletop before I would try anything like LARPing.

See, there are several different KINDS of role-playing games.

Passive RPGs - These are RPG genre video and computer games. You become your character, but the plot is already written out for you and (in most cases) your character is made FOR you. Like Chrono Trigger. <3 <3 <3 Love that game.

Text RPG - This is when you're writing, like in a forum, in a chatroom, or via email. It's more like writing a cooperative story with others. Sure, you get into your character, and you can be a lot more descriptive than you otherwise could be. There are really very few structured rules. It's kind of an honor-system.

Tabletop RPGs - These are like Dungeons and Dragons, GURPS, BESM (Big Eyes Small Mouth <.&lt, and others like that. Everything is determined by dice and the mathematical values of your character's statistics. There are STRICT rules and guidelines and formulas for you to build your character, but they're very personalized nonetheless. You may not be able to be exactly the way your character is written, but you can work around that with the options you have.

EXAMPLE: My text RPG character, Essex, is a robot with the body and soul of a child. In a tabletop, (D&D is what I know best) I would make her using the books from the Eberron campaign, giving her a few levels of Warforged Scout (a small-sized sentient construct, though they aren't truly awakened. Her outer body can be customized to LOOK right.)

Every level, you take levels of a class. So you can have a level 10 character that is four levels Sorcerer and six levels Rogue. So I would level Essex up in the Warforged Scout class until she met the requirements for a prestige class - Whatever the name for the awakened warforge would be. Since the awakened warforged has true sentience, it can begin takin any class levels. Now this means I would be a little late starting up my healing class, but the end result would be fairly similar to what I've done in text and CoX.

Now, take that to the next level.

Vampire: The Masquerade is a LARPG.

Live Action RPG (LARP) - This is similar to tabletop, but without the table. You have dice you roll to determine things still, but instead of being in a central location, you're actually walking around and acting like your character. I haven't gotten very into this, though a friend of mine makes PVC-pipe and foam weaponry for people who do this. These are the people who throw tennis balls at people for Magic Missile and stuff.

9_9 *looks up at huge explanation*

I hope that helped at least a little bit. T_T

Rosie blushed, hugging Allen back, her tail wagging happily. At Balsk's hasty retreat and Allen's words, she bristled a little jokingly.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" she joked. "Come on, I already got into my brawl today. Let's all go inside before someone sees us. Jeez, a space soldier, a dog-girl, and a draconian walk into a bar..."

Shooing the boys inside the SPC building, she nevertheless sighed in relief when they were safely in. She deposited some of her things in her cubicle before turning around, folding her arms.

"So what's going on?" she asked with a grin.

"ALLEN!"

Rosie stopped, startled at the sight of Allen talking to Balsk.

She was completely surprised. She hadn't -actually- expected him to come. And to see her?

"Aren't you...weren't you...You came all the way from...."

The were-human felt her cheeks tinge for the second time that day.

Goddammit, stop doing that! <_<

"Gah! I don't know what to say!" she said, grinning. "Damn, it's good to see you!"

Lord Diov: 21
Khellendrosiic: 23
Hallucinogen: 22
Essex: 26
Prodiguy: 20
The Soviet: 25
Lazarus: CRY MOAR'D
Devious Me: 22
Burning Brawler: 19
Arashi: 20
Halo Inc: PAIN TRAIN'D ( But +2 Awesome)
Billy Boy: 13
Leo Gunner: ARROW'D
Pheonyx: 20
Mithral Zeta: 20
Cowman: TROLL'D
Moiread Scott: 22
Seikon: MENTAL BLAST HEAD EXPLODE'D
Coldfire Kaiser: HEAD SHOTT'D
Mr Grey: 19
Ozell One: 21

Lol, you know that if we were allowed to take points off ourselves I would have AP'd myself into the ground by now. :3