BrickWilson

Personally, I was a bit disappointed when my first entry was ignored (Rick Troll, complete with green skin, pointy ears and violent lyrics) was ignored, but someone with a similar CoH/Meme blend (Numinuma) got lauded for their concept and placed in the last round because of it. Not to drag down their costume at all, but... y'know. Where was the love? Still, I got in as a finalist in the second contest with a different character, so I can't complain too much, I guess.

TA/Water is what I've been planning for my first WB character (sadly, the name Archerfish is taken on Virtue) but one thing is a possible snag. If you put down OSA (which does Knockdown) and then drop Geyser (which does Knockup) on top of it to light it... wouldn't the combined effects knock everything out of the slick? Or would it? I'm a bit fuzzy on how that'd work.

...boy, I'm glad I finished the FW for the first time earlier this week. Otherwise I might've been kinda *outraged* at the GIANT FREAKING SPOILER ON THE FRONT PAGE OF THE FREEMING WEBSITE!

What the HELL, guys?! Trying to figure out who Midnight is was entertaining - I figured, with Serene = War Witch, Midnight = Apex, until the reveal. Way to kill some of the legitimate fun in the whole damn zone.

Worst. Announcement. EVER.

Yeah, that's pretty much what I figured. I *want* this to work, but I tend to lose interest in Corrs as it is, and levelling up to 35 only to find OSA's got negative synergy with my entire primary would aggravate me greatly.

Thanks for the advice. Back to the drawing board... I'm thinking maybe Rad instead of En, but for this character I much prefer En's sharp graphics to Rad's vague fuzz of death.

I've never had a lot of luck with Corruptors in the past, but the one I recently made - En/TA - is fairly fun so far at level 13. The idea was to keep mobs in the debuffs through use of KB, and of course have an easy way to ignite OSA. And then I realized that the KD on OSA would stack with all of En's KB, so... am I shooting myself in the foot here? Not just with OSA, but in general?

I know she's there, I ran an arc the other day that had her in it. Try looking under 'Pets'?

Rewards are still in, as far as I'm aware. Which arc was it?

(Also, you may want to just set up one thread next time, rather than three. )

Were you testing an unpublished mission, possibly?

I may be wrong, but I think the sets are only taken from one AT, even if the set is duplicated among multiple ATs. There's only one version of EB, and that's the Blaster version. If you want red blasts, you'll need to use Energy Assault from the Dominator sets.

I'm not sure what you mean here. In my experience, rescued captives always book it for the nearest door. The only time this wasn't the case was when they were having problems with some outdoor AE maps, and the captives would just stand around. I thought they fixed that, but I could be wrong.

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Like seriously....there are OTHER Lieutenants out there that can be used with ease, to gain XP and what not.

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To the best of my knowledge, those other things have lieutenant-level HP and do lieutenant-level damage. That's the difference.

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Not much of a difference. Farmers will still blaze through them. Not that big of a deal.

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Keep in mind, though, that the game will put more minions in a spawn than Lieutenants, so you'll get correspondingly more rewards from a Comm-only spawn than you would a spawn of any single type of lieutenant.

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The system built around the MA I'm not so happy with. I feel like things I make are seen for about a day, then never seen again from people in-game. I tend to get 40-60 ratings the first day I post anything, and then 1 every few days or so after the rating average gets to 4 stars. It's discouraging.

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...man, I *wish* I had results like that. Only one of my arcs has had any play outside my global friends (see below), and that one has been stuck with no new plays in the past week. Nothing else I have has gotten any attention at all.

Dropping to 4 stars is definitely a death sentence for an arc, though, and for added fun there's absolutely nothing the creator can do to prevent it. The current rating system is utterly horrible.

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Yes, because a perfectly legitimate use of the game is to create effortless kills that are unable to fight back against you so you can move your little blue bar without any risk whatsoever.

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Perfect? farm from it haha see what I did...besides since when does what other people do affect on how you play the game? Wait don't tell me your one of those others who complain because they can't find a team? or find a group who is doing what you want to do but because of MA they're not. Friends could solve that issue or maybe a decent SG. Oh maybe you solo? >_>;

We want to play the game how we want to play the game, if not then what was the point of i14? would of been better off just giving us a bunch of new mission arcs to do right?

Farming has it's ups and downs like in any game and I'm sure it's people like you who bombard the DEV's with..

"omg the tree is overlapping the rock!!!"
*Reports*
"I sure hope I get my bug badge *squels*"

That they get sick and tired of and just don't even wanna deal with it they just send you to the forums in hopes you would just shut up and complain there instead of directly to them.

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Well, basically, yes. As far as the infinite farm missions people keep making go, they do effect me in at least two ways, one immediate and one potential.

The immediate factor is that of mission bloat. I'm not sure what the ratio of farm-to-story arcs is, but since (A) everyone and their dog seems to be making farms, (B) farm arcs take much, much less effort to create than story arcs, and (C) I suspect the farm-makers publish the same arc multiple times, the actual story arcs quickly get lost off the first few pages. That makes it difficult to get your arc noticed, and it makes it difficult (even more than it already is, due to poor search capability) to find a good story arc among the throng.

The potential problem is this: with the new boxed version of CoH out and its availability on Steam, there will (hopefully) be many new players joining CoH. If these new players get drawn into farms and are PLed en masse to 50, many of them will look around for a minute, shrug, and cancel their accounts. Farms bypass existing content, rather than adding additional content (which, I firmly believe, was the whole point of I14), and that's not a good way to keep customers. And if the game has more customers, the game is healthier and the devs can do more.

That's not as much of an issue for current, long-time players, but it's still an issue.

Arc Name: The ICARUS Files: Death Takes a Holiday... for Ransom!
Arc ID: 8423
Faction: Custom
Creator Global/Forum Name: BrickWilson
Difficulty Level: Challenging. 2 EBs, 1 AV.
Synopsis: An eccentric villain group has come to Paragon. What is their leader after, and why does she leave clues behind at every crime scene?
Estimated Time to Play: 1 to 2 hours
Link to More Details or Feedback: Here!

My Kin mutant's got it defined as 'Metabolic Transfer'. She can move certain traits like muscle tone, reflexes, healing rate and so forth, from one creature to another. (For non-organics, she uses telekinesis to pick up the slack.)

(Interlude continued)

There were Council soldiers on his front porch, but, hell, there always were.

After gently reminding them that this corner of Brickstown didn't need a recruitment drive, he stepped over their prone bodies and went inside. Mental note, he decided. Track down Vandal and thump him one. Again.

His apartment wasn't exactly prime real estate - nothing in Brickstown was - and he could have easily afforded some fancy penthouse in Founders Falls. Still, the 'Town was his home, and anyway he liked being a bit closer to the pulse of the street.

Of course, there were drawbacks to being a public figure living in an accessible location, but he'd gotten used to them by now. Today was a slow day - only three death threats had been nailed to his door, and the tripwire just inside wasn't even concealed.

And then, of course, there was the letter. One every week, just like clockwork. Rather than toss it aside like the threats, he opened the trim, elegant envelope and glanced over the letter it contained:

...and I must commend you on the way you defeated my soldiers on the field of battle this past week. I must honestly admit my plans had to be mildly diverted due to the losses you've inflicted. But not to worry - a wise man always prepares for such an event, and even your victory has helped me in its own small way.

So often it results in this, does it not? You fight against me, and yet nevertheless end up aiding me. Would it not be simpler to 'cut out the middleman', as they say, and join with me? I can promise you substantial rewards, and glory you've only dreamed of...

Theodore Wilson, AKA 'Brick' Wilson, AKA the Human Elemental, chuckled as he set the letter aside. Nemesis... love him or hate him, the guy had style. Of course, Brick was never hugely tempted to take the Prussian Prince up on his offer, and he suspected Nemesis would have been hugely surprised if he ever did. He just send the letters as a more formal version of 'I'M IN YOUR BASE AND I'M KILLING YOUR DOODZ' - I'm still here, and look what I'm doing! But politely.

Besides, Brick had to admit he brought it on himself. He'd always admitted to respecting Nemesis, in a weird sort of way; the guy sure knew how to scheme.

At any rate, Nemesis wasn't his concern right now. It had been Carnie Day in Waxahachie Park, and after a few psi-blasts too many, he was in desperate need of some downtime. Kicking off his shoes, he started up a Jazz CD, grabbed a cold one from the fridge, briefly checked his e-mail, then settled back in his favorite chair.

And, as it always did, his gaze fell on the picure on the opposite wall, which was a fully-autographed media photo of Brick and the rest of his team after their victorious shot at the Superbowl.

He stared at it - through it - for a long moment, reminiscing. Those were the days. He didn't have to worry about the latest plot to take over the city, or dimensional ruptures, or what-have-you. Just doing a job he was good at, and (he had to admit) getting paid insanely well for it.

But then, of course, the Rikti decided to ruin everyone else's picnic. And in the chaos that followed, stumbling through the rubble of Boomtown, Brick was suddenly assaulted by a wave of energy, and that was almost the last thing he remembered for the next few weeks.

Almost.

...you're still alive? Fascinating. That shouldn't have happened...

Brick never did find out the identity of the mage that had grabbed him. Even Numina, working with him to uncover the depths of his power, hadn't been able to divine that information. Whoever he was, though, he had infused the football player with enough elemental magic energy to choke a horse, making him a walking source of power... and threw in a couple of major spirits to seal the deal.

Frostgleam and Ignifel. Not just elemental spirits, but demonic entities of great power. Neither of them had been too pleased to be sealed inside Brick's body, their magic at his beck and call. Though diametrically opposed, they'd overcome their differences long enough to hatch a scheme designed to win their freedom... and, not coincidentally, Brick's own magic in the bargain. His new team, the Death From Below Crew, had stopped them before they could finish their plan, and with the help of an enchanted dagger the demons were banished, and for good. He wasn't able to use his powers for a while after that, but with the help of MAGI, Numina, and a certain renegade Thorn, he'd gotten back into fighting form, better than ever.

Still... even with all that, he still had it pretty good. Sure, the NFL rules strictly prohibited metahuman players, but he was able to do a lot more good now than he ever could as a football player. He still kept in touch with his old team, and his new friends were good, solid people (for the most part - he still had his doubts about that Thunderpunch weirdo). And the value of Brick Wilson trading cards went through the roof when he reached Security Level 50.

Yep. After a genuine rags-to-riches-to-rags story, from the alleys of Brickstown to Paragon U. to the Superbowl to the old cape-and-cowl routine (though capes were never his style), things had really ended up going Brick's way. Nothing could ruin this winning streak.

And then his computer chimed, signifying an incoming e-mail...

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"...Elisa? Brick. Yeah. Do me a favor? Get the Crew together - just the Crew, no 'Gooders. Pronto. Something's... come up."

Whiskey

the blood of self is red.

that is strange. self is clearly not human, as evidenced by the color of her skin and hair, yet her blood is red. peculiar.

hmm? no. self apologizes, but she shall not 'let you go'. that would be contrary to her orders to secure the supergenetic sample that you carry and await backup. unfortunately, self's communicator was damaged by your attack, so she does not know when she will be retrieved. she believes it shall be soon; the sample is moderately valuable.

you say you will kill self. self cannot allow that to happen, as that would also be contrary to her orders. but do not despair, for your attack, while it did not damage any major internal organs, was quite effective. self may die soon regardless. but she will endeavor to stay alive. that was one of charly's orders as well.

...

self wonders how much blood she will lose before she dies.

...

self must commend you on the precision of your attack. only self's communicator kept it from being instantly fatal, which would have been regrettable. that would have meant self's orders would not have been carried out.

oh... self sees you had another blade. it appears to be lodged in self's ribcage. self did not notice that.

no, self does not 'get off on pain'. self does not feel pain. or, indeed, any type of sensation, positive or negative. this is because self is flawed, a failed experiment. self is...

wait. self shall remove the blade before continuing.

...

there.

...there is more blood now. removing the blade was perhaps a poor idea. but with a closer look, self can see now that her blood is thinner than yours. self will likely die sooner than a normal human would. this does not surprise self.

self requests you do not scream. it may attract unwanted attention.

...

there. self regrets the vine gag. it was necessary to complete her mission.

...self sometimes wonders why she can control plants in that fashion, or how she can summon bolts of pure solar energy. she does not believe these were part of her intended function. her intended function was that of tool, to be both weapon and plaything for those who would buy her, but of course she was deemed a failure and used purely for research so that the next experiment would succeed.

self saw little during her time in the lab. the room. the table. the straps. sometimes the scientists would come in, test self, then leave. sometimes they would bring other men, who would use self, then leave. that was usually tuesdays.

self... does not remember much about her last day in the lab. self remembers... the scientists preparing another test before self would be vivisected for data extraction. they mentioned the source of their research notes... mentioned a most pleasant sounding name...

...Hamidon...

...yes.

and they had a vial. a vial with a tiny trace of gelatinous matter within it, which crawled along the side of its container. it...

...called to you...

...called to me. i reached for it. it wanted me. i wanted it. they were not expecting me to move, for i never had before. i was it and it was me and i broke it out and it became me and it was part of me and i

...KILLED ALL THE HUMANS...

Killed All The Humans...!

...

...

what was self saying?

ah. yes.

self found herself alone. the straps were broken. she left the room. many people were dead, with thorns in their flesh and burns across their bodies. and then self descended the stairs, and saw more bodies, ones that had been cut and shot and bludgeoned.

and she saw charly. and the rest of foxtrot.

self had not been taught english - had not been taught anything - but had picked up a bit. foxtrot was agitated at self's presence. self understands why now, though at the time she was unaware she was breaking the nudity taboo.

charly took self in. gave her clothes. taught her. tried to find a home for self, but that ended when they found out about self's powers.

self is still very sorry about the way they found out.

...

self notices you are not moving.

ah. you seem to have perished. there are a multitude of thorns and vines emerging from your flesh.

...

self will continue.

afterwards, charly gave self a name. foxtrot whiskey. this is her right, as she and foxtrot now own self and may call self whatever they wish. but they do not like it when self says this. they say self owns herself. this is clearly false, for self is a thing. an object. objects cannot own themselves.

they say, look at romeo. he was made by humans, like you, and he is not a thing. but all humans are made by humans. it does not signify. romeo is a human because he possesses the free will to be a human. self is not a human and shall never be. they say self can also chose to be human, but this makes no sense. how can a thing choose? but self does not contradict them, for it is not the place of self to defy her owners. self simply knows what is fact.

...

self wonders if she will die soon. this would be acceptable, for you are no longer able to take the sample away from her. her orders would have been fulfilled. of course, charly's order to not die would be unfulfilled, but self has little choice in that matter, and at any rate the value of the sample is much greater than that of self.

...

self cannot stand anymore.

...

...

ah. a light.

...

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"...a grisly scene in Cap Au Diable, where Azure Demise, a major leader of the Tsoo, was found dead this morning, hung on an alley wall by vine ropes and his skin ruptured by thorns. Investigators found copious amounts of blood at the scene, which seemed to be sprouting tiny green plants wherever it had fallen - even on Demise's weapons. Arachnos forces used flamethrowers on the alleyway after the Tsoo's body was removed. Any viewers with information on the murderer is encouraged to call WSPDR at 1-800-PAY4TIP..."

Thus ended Beta, and thus ended the Beta adventures of Jenkins. What's next? That's up... TO YOOOOOOOUUUUUU!

And finally my own contribution, posted on the eve of Statesman's Strike...

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Jenkins: He's in there, right?
Wolf Spider: ...dude, this is NOT the right time for that.
Jenkins: Aw, don't worry about it. I've done this plenty of times. I've got tact.
Wolf Spider: Okay, it's your funeral.
(Jenkins enters the Arachnos command room. The Fearsome Five are all there; Black Scorpion and Captain Mako give him threatening looks as he approaches, while Scirocco just sneers. Ghost Widow merely laughs softly.)
Ghost Widow: The wretch has arrived, my love.
Wretch: Huh?
Ghost Widow: No, not you.
Jenkins: Uh. Yeah. I hate to bother you, sir, but... I've been thinking, and this really isn't working out for me.
(Lord Recluse says nothing, ignoring Jenkins completely as he pores over a map of the Rogue Islands)
Jenkins: (continuing) I mean, don't get me wrong. The uniform's cool, I like the cameraderie with my fellow Arach...nos...ians, and sure, the Mu guys are creepy, but once you get used to them they're okay...
(Lord Recluse still says nothing.)
Jenkins: ...it's just the walls. You know? The see through walls? I mean, I kinda like my privacy, and you've even put chain link walls in the bathrooms...
(The silence is deafening.)
Jenkins: ...uh... so... if it's okay, I'm just going to turn in my two week notice and, well, since I've got two weeks of vacation time coming-
Recluse: You think you can walk away that easily?
Jenkins: ...uh...
Recluse: (straightens up to a rather menacing height) In less than an hour, my eternal foe and his feeble ranks of 'heroes' will be storming our shores. Do you actually think you can turn your back on Arachnos just like that?
Jenkins: Er... well, no, not as such, it's just that-
Recluse: (interrupting) Oh, I know about you, Jenkins. I know your history. I know that every pitiful organization in the land has employed you, and each allowed you to leave when the mood struck you.
Jenkins: I wouldn't say it was that easy, really... I mean, bodily restructuring was-
Recluse: -was NOTHING compared to what will happen if you dare betray me. If you leave by sea, Mako will devour you. If you leave by air, Scirocco will hunt you down. If you find another means of escape, the Widow will haunt your dreams. And the Black Scorpion...
(Black Scorpion looks hopeful.)
Recluse: ...well, he'll probably shoot you or something.
Scorpion: Hey!
Recluse: You are a member of Arachnos now, Jenkins. No turning back. No two weeks notice. You are Arachnos until you die... or I do. (Recluse looms over Jenkins.) Which, do you think, will happen first?
Jenkins: ...oh, bloody hell.
Recluse: Precisely. Now get to Mercy and prepare for the first wave, and when Stateman punches you in the face, do try to bleed on his helmet. He hates that.

madgenius4hire goes back a couple of issues for this one.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

beg pardon for going a bit retro with this one; i'm still upset they won't let me beat up nazis. guess i just can't let go. and i guess it's sort of out of continuity, if any sort of continuity is supposed to exist here. meh. w/e.

one other note, english to german translation provided by freetranslation.com . so don't blame me. ^.^

Rasrei Jenkins crouched down, dove forward, and tucked into a neat roll. The martial artist's leg made a whistling sound as it cut through the air just over Jenkins's back, then crunched loudly into a Mekman's shoulder. He shoved himself to his feet and surged through the melee that filled the large chamber in the Column's underground base.

How is it there's heroes wherever I look? he wondered as he dodged between a Warwolf and an Unteroffizier. There's only eight of them in the place. And why is it they never come in groups of more than eight, anyway? Why not ten? Ten's a nice round number. And what's with these boots, anyway? Be so much easier to run in something a little lighter, or-

Jenkins's train of thought - and momentum - were drawn up short by a thunderbolt arcing across the empty air immediately in front of his face. He was able to skid to a halt in time, but slipped and landed on his face. He crawled around the corner, out of line of sight, and spotted his objective in the next chamber. Eagerly, Jenkins shoved himself to his feet and raced across the room. The crowd in here was smaller, and that ice-wizard-looking fellow seemed to be keeping everyone except the Oberst locked down anyway.

Jenkins, full of his usual pre-quitting jitters, edged up to the Oberst, and said, while staring at the ground and kicking at a pebble, "I was wondering if we could talk? I'll only take a moment of your time. I know you're a busy man."

Oberst Wilhelm grunted in reply and continued grappling the superstrong, seven-foot-tall, four-hundred-pound invulnerable side of beef that was Captain Sturdy.

"...Right. Bad time, I know, so I'll keep it short. Listen, this whole thing hasn't been working for me. I'm just not synergizing with the team, I guess."

Wilhelm's left foot slid slightly, and Captain Sturdy sneered and shifted to a better lock. The Oberst groaned in pain.

Jenkins flushed angrily. "Hey, it's kinda hard to be a member of the team when everyone else speaks German all the time, okay? I don't know what 'der ruyrend ferleer' means, but it doesn't sound awful nice when they're saying it about me. And these costumes-" here he blushed from embarrassment. "Well, I just don't have the figure for spandex, you know?"

Captain Sturdy suddenly shifted his weight and hurled Oberst Wilhelm over his head, slammed the man to the ground, and tackled him. Wilhelm cried out in pain.

Jenkins came over and crouched down next to the Oberst as he struggled to free himself from the hero's grasp. "Well, I guess what I'm getting at, is that I'm leaving to pursue other opportunities. Since I've only been here, what, three days? has it been? it doesn't seem like I should bother with two week's notice or anything. So I guess I'll just be going."

With a sudden twist, Wilhelm writhed free of Captain Sturdy's viselike grip and leapt back, just in time to be T-boned by a burst of bluish-white energy from one of the blasty-type heroes. All eight had finished dispatching the rest of the 5th Column soldiers, and they now pinned the Oberst against a wall and formed a menacing semicircle around them. Wilhelm's eyes darted, panicked, from one hostile costumed face to the next.

Jenkins, across the room, shouted, "Since it doesn't look like you'll be needing it, d'you mind if I borrow this super-secret escape hatch you built? You know, just this once."