Burning_Brawler_NA

While both of your statements are technically true, they're not the first thought that comes to mind. If I have to sit back and try to justify to myself why the text would be that way despite the fact that my first reaction was that it was odd, something most likely is not coming across as intended. I did think of the whole "well they're time travellers" after the initial "whoops, looks like they missed this one". It's just the problem is that it looks like an error.

As for the second one, yes Praetorian Malaise could be argued to be the worse of the two (despite that Mayhem is aggravating his insanity whereas Primal it all completely on his own mileage of crazy), but seeing as Maria Jenkins was rather close to Statesman, I don't know that she would think so or at the very least, be referring to him so casually.

Another good one from the ITF mission "Stop Romulus" when you get the mission entry text:

"They plan to use Statesman and Lord Recluse to power their giant colossi."

Methinks this plan shall not go well.

I'm aware, but I had some hope that continuity errors related to this most recent lore update might get more attention. Such as--

After Maria Jenkins' "Defeat Malaise" mission, she makes a statement about being grateful Primal Malaise didn't turn out as bad as Praetorian Malaise which is... odd... given his involvement with Sister Psyche and Statesman's deaths.

For what it's worth, the misspelling was me. I wrote that post rather late at night. My bigger concern was the Penelope/Tilman error.

I looked back a few pages and couldn't find anything in this vein and thought it would be nice if we could note any textual issues we find here, either misspellings, grammatical issues or fact errors related to the changes made after the deaths of Statesman and Sister Psyche. For example:

"Defeat Mother Mayhem" from Maria Jenkins refers to Praetor Tilman as the Praetorian version of Penelope Yin, as opposed to Sister Psyche.

I imagine there are a couple instances of these sort especially to be found and it'd be nice to have them all in once place.

See, I never really need the actual respec either. I do however like to get the badges and Notices when it's the correct week. I tend to audibly groan when I see it's a respec TF week just because of that mission.

I wouldn't be too surprised if this has been requested quite a bit, but could we get another look taken at the wave spawns in the last mission of the 3 Terra Volta Trials? Because it has come to a point where I (and others) will avoid doing it simply because of how simply "not fun" it is to sit around and wait for those spawns.

When the trial was first released, it was hectic. You tended to fail it as often as succeeded it, and in those days, failing it really sucked because "ghosting" wasn't exactly prevalent, nor did you have the fancy team teleports to get people bussed from place to place as needed. So after some time, the developers increased the times between waves to give teams a little more of a chance to breathe.

But since then we've been given exemplaring, auto sidekicking and exemplaring, Invention Origins, Set Bonuses, Temp powers out the wazzoo and a general strengthening of player characters over NPCs. Heck, more often than not, you don't even need the Coolant Belts. So what started off as maybe a slight overshot in relief has now created agonizingly long gaps in this mission, even with the most... fresh... of teams.

I'm not calling for the waves to be made harder or the reactor more squishy by any means. This trial takes more effort of the team's part to intentionally fail it than it does to complete it, and that's fine by me. I just want to not be bored and alt-tabbing to the forum to write a post about how overtly long the wait time between wave spawns is to kill time until the next one.

As Caleb sat on the docks and waited for the assassin's arrival, his mind began to drift. It started innocently enough-- noting the color of the water, thinking about exploring some of the meteor landing sites, wondering where exactly they came from, questioning if they came on purpose, deciding if he believed they were part of something bigger; what it must have looked like when they impacted, dirt flying into the air, the ground rocking violently, a deafening explosion. And suddenly he wasn't seeing the meteors anymore, he was seeing his old home. He was seeing what was left of it and the fires crackling, feeling his head fight to split in two as his vision swam and--

"You alright there?"

Caleb turned, his thoughts broken. He was dimly aware of a little clattering sound as he watched the assassin fade into view. "Uh, yeah I guess so," he said as he stood, wary, but not reaching for his guns yet. Hesitantly, he added, "Why?"

The other boy pointed at the ground around him. "You were lifting the rocks. I thought you just shot at things."

"I do," Caleb replied quickly, "... Only shoot at things. So if you'll give me back what you stole." The two locked eyes for a moment, or at least, Caleb thought they were locking eyes. It was impossible to read anything the assassin was thinking with the sunglasses and the cowl that concealed his face. The only identifying feature he let show was his short cut blonde hair.

A few seconds went by before he actually reached into one of the pouches on his belt, one that surely should have been too small, and pulled out the stolen guns. Caleb immediately reached out to take them, but the other boy yanked his own hands back. "But-- I want something first."

This made Caleb angry. Games. All games. But being so close, he forced himself to answer calmly. "What?"

"A name."

"I gave you my name."

"No," said the boy. "You gave me an I.D. I want a name."

"And then you'll give me back my pistols?"

"Yes. As soon as I get a name."

He sighed, wanting to think over the risks of doing just that, but with the end so nearly in sight and time ticking as it was-- "Caleb. My name is Caleb."

The assassin nodded, stepping forward and handing over the pistols. "Then here you go, Caleb. Sorry for all the trouble."

He stood there, feeling the familiar weight back in his hand, eyes scouring the surface of the weapons to see if there was any damage or forgery when what the other boy said made its way through. "Wait, sorry?" Caleb cocked his head, a smile masking his angry disbelief. "You're apologizing for stealing something of mine after you attacked me, keeping it from me for weeks to where I had to hunt you down to get them back, make me jump through ******* hoops, and you just say sorry?! Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Matt."

Any momentum Caleb felt from his speech was sucked out of him by that simple, calm reply. He reached out for that anger he felt a moment ago, but it refused to answer his call, preferring instead to scatter into the air. Flustered, the best he could spit out was, "Well... **** you, Matt. No, I won't even call you that. You got a name and an I.D. I want a name and an I.D."

Matt shrugged and answered, "Sounds fair to me. Void Brawler."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "Void Brawler?"

"Yeah."

"What the hell kind of a name is that?"

"What the hell kind of a name is Twist Shot?" Matt replied quickly.

"A... a damn good one?" This brought out a laugh from Matt, who walked over, shaking his head as he took a seat on the dock's edge. "Oh, screw you," said Caleb, sitting down as well. "Like any superhero names are that great."

Matt chuckled. "Right. I mean, War Witch? Aurora Borealis? They didn't have one friend willing to tell them they're name was terrible? Some heroes have no idea how to come up with a good name."

"Villains are worse," Caleb said, shifting to sit comfortably. "Captain Mako, Black Scorpion," then, with a snort, "The Great and Powerful Arctic Wizard."

It was Matt's turn to **** his head this time. "Never heard of that one."

Caleb laughed now. "Trust me, nobody has."

"But they are indeed about to!" The two boys whirled around quickly to see what was, for one of them, a familiar face. His imitation Circle robes a bit worse for wear, singed and soaked as they were, and a good chunk of his beard missing, the Arctic Wizard would have been a very comical sight if it weren't for the large crowd of Arachnos agents behind him. "You'll excuse me bringing guests to this party but they seem to be missing something. I thought you could tell them what happened to their lost helicopter? I lost track of it after the medi-porter saved me from you trying to drown me."

Matt began cracking his knuckles as shadows slid over the boy's gloves, readying for the fight. "After we beat these guys up, what do I ask about first? The drowning or how you stole a Black Helicopter and thought that would end well?"

Caleb clicked the safety on his pistols, giving them a few good twirls to make sure they felt right. He smirked at how naturally they fit. "Ask about the helicopter. It's a much better story."

Void Brawler nodded and said, "You got it," before fading completely from sight. Twist Shot took that as his cue to roll behind cover, not wanting to be the only one out in the open.

The Arctic Wizard let out a big, phony, evil cackle. "Yeah, run from me! Run, children! Now, my minions, atta--" But the Arachnos agents had already begun their charge, practically trampling the Wizard as they did so. A trio of Wolf Spiders ran to where they saw Twist Shot duck under, clubs ready to swing, only to find him not there. They started to turn when suddenly they came under fire. The rounds peppered their armored chests, but not piercing through. As they staggered, three quick shots were followed by them dropping one by one with considerable dents in their helmets.

As the Wizard tried to bring himself to his feet, two clasped hands wrapped in shadows suddenly came down over his head. The blow slammed the mage back to the floor as Void Brawler appeared over him. The boy raised his fist for a finishing blow when his feet were suddenly taken out from underneath him. He quickly followed the fall's momentum into a roll, springing back up to come face to face with a Night Widow as she let her claws slowly extend, venom dripping from them. Stone silent, she gestured for him to attack.

Void Brawler ran forward, arm held high as if to strike. The Widow struck low, hoping to catch him open, but that was the boy's intent. He reached his other arm forward, gripping the Widow's wrist and forcing her arm and shoulder down. Void Brawler whirled back to back with her, bringing his elbow into the back of her head and sending the Arachnos assassin stumbling forward. He ran forward leaping with legs out first to bring her down, but went sailing overhead as she dropped to her knees at the last moment. Void tumbled, ending his roll and coming to block an overhead swing from the Night Widow. They exchanged blows back and forth, each blocking and ducking and dodging in close combat, neither really scoring a noteworthy hit until she jerked to the side, nearly tripping as she did so. Void Brawler didn't miss the opportunity, slamming both fists into her open side and dropping his opponent. He turned to see Twist Shot standing atop a nearby building, firing from behind a rooftop door as the Arachnos soldiers took cover behind storage containers from the frighteningly accurate shots. He watched as one got brave, or perhaps too much of the opposite, and tried to charge building, only to be dropped as soon as he did so. It seemed that despite the numbers, he had the targets well under control.

Save for the group of six Void spotted entering from the side. Seeing a chance to be of use, he willed the shadows around his fists to cover his whole body and slipped from sight before kicking off of the ground and flying through the air. Anticipating them somewhat, he rose to a higher floor, forcing open one of the windows and swinging inside. Already he could hear the footsteps approaching as he made his way to the landing. As soon as they came in sight on the stairs below, he sprung into action, taking hold of the banister and flinging himself right into the middle of the attackers, flooring two with his heels as he landed. Taking the moment of surprise, Void Brawler backhanded the nearest Wolf Spider and followed the spin to land another good punch across the jaw of another. The two not reeling were aware of what had happened by then and had raised their maces to strike. Void ducked under the first clumsy swing, the weapons proving awkward in close quarters, and used both hands to push aside the second before striking at the neck of the offending soldier.

He turned then to see the last Spider had run up a few steps and now had his weapon aimed to fire. There was the faintest grin of satisfaction on the Arachnos agent's face as he fired in rapid succession, spraying the entire staircase in deadly bolts of energy. The weapon grew hot, too hot in fact, and threatened to explode before he stopped, confident he had left the boy injured at least. A sharp whistle from above drew his gaze to where Void Brawler clung, arms and legs spread wide to hold him in place between the edge of the stairs and the wall. The Spider cried out as the boy dropped fists-first into his face, tackling him. Void brought his hand up, then down atop the last soldier, and his job was finished. He stood up, taking a moment to make sure no one was getting back up before half running, half flying up the stairs to the rooftop door to see how Caleb was fairing.

It was actually a surprise when he opened the door, heard the click and felt the proximity of a gun barrel near his temple. In that moment, Matt thought it was all over, and he was torn. Any other day, this would have been a relief, a welcome end to a long nightmare. But he was actually saddened by the idea, by this betrayal. He clenched his eyes shut and waited for the boom.

"Oh! Damn, be more careful, I could have blown your head off," said Caleb, holstering the gun.

He opened them, blinking in disbelief, not that Caleb could see. "Right." Matt shook his head, snapping back to the moment at hand. "My bad for saving your *** from an ambush I guess!"

"From the herd of elephants?" Caleb smirked. "I had it covered. I was wondering what took them so long. Got bored once I took care of the front group."

Matt looked over the edge of the roof to see the crowd of unconscious, or he assumed they were at least, Arachnos soldiers below. He nodded appreciatively, looking over the rest of their handiwork; the soldiers, the Night Widow, the Wi-- then he realized someone was still unaccounted for. "Hey, what happened to the Circle reject?"

"Ran off after you took down that Night Widow. Don't worry though," said Caleb, stepping up beside Matt and pointing a little bit further out. "I took care of it." He saw it then, the bolts of ice whizzing through the air as a mass of gelatinous monsters closed in on their prey. Matt watched as a large, frozen spike sailed through one of the creatures who continued marching on as if nothing had happened. It was clear someone would be returning to the hospital soon. "Saw him trying to make a getaway, so I got them a little riled up."

Matt nodded again, this time with an amused smile poking through. "Pretty impressive. So," he said, turning to face Caleb. "What do you say we head back to your home turf for some Up-N-Away Burger and you can tell me aaaaaaall about this whole hijacking a helicopter idea."

There was little Caleb could do but fume as he began walking to the nearest ferry. Yes, he had agreed to a meeting or a rendezvous or whatever, but he didn't exactly like the idea. With the boy actually gone, all the reasons why it was an awful idea had begun to race back to him-- it could be a trap, there was no guarantee he'd show and worst of all, he may have just screwed his one chance at this. From there came the endless line of reasons why he didn't just take the shot. So what if he hit a Council soldier? Because he wasn't a soldier then...

Caleb shook his head. Decisions had been made and all he could do now was follow-through with them. He would go to the docks, trap or no, and wait. As the ferry began its slow across the water, he kept replaying the brief exchange over and over again in his mind up until the moment it pulled into the isle where a helicopter that would take him to Bloody Bay resided. Without a word, he climbed aboard, absentmindedly click the safety of one of his pistols on and off the entire trip. After nearly an hour of this, someone spoke up.

"Kid, you mind? I'm nursing a migraine over here."

He looked up to see who was speaking to him. It was a strange looking man, even by Rogue Isles standards; pale face covered in tattoos that looked mystical if anything and wearing what looked like a black and powder blue knock-off of Circle of Thorns robes. Across his lap was a long staff with a large knob at the end that looked as if it had been ripped straight from some kind of off-color tree. Caleb mumbled a, "Sorry," before busying himself with cleaning the weapons.

The stranger eyed him for a moment before speaking again. "This your first time going into the Bay, child? Let me give you a warning. Watch out for the big fish like me if you don't want to get eaten alive. All that meteor rock belongs to The Great and Powerful Arctic Wizard."

An uncomfortable moment passed as the strange villain sat there, arms in the air as if he had just given a great proclamation and Caleb continued to stare intently at his weapons.

"And do you know who The Great and Powerful Arctic Wizard i--"

"I really don't care," interrupted the boy gunslinger, not bothering to look up as he did so.

With a loud harrumph the strange man sat back in his chair, arms crossed like a pouting child and stayed that way until the pilot announced they were nearing their destination. It wasn't until that moment that a paralyzing thought struck Caleb: they would set down in the middle of a heavily fortified Arachnos base.

A dozen curses immediately streamed through the boy's mind as he tried to figure out a plan of action. To let the helicopter set down would be as good as putting a bullet in his own brain. The bullet might even be preferable to what Arachnos could do to him. Caleb's eyes fixed on the pilots ahead of him as they busily flipped switches and prepared to land. Deciding in a matter of moments, he sprung from his seat, cracking the grip of his pistols into the faces of both pilots as they turned at the commotion. He tried to turn around then, but suddenly felt a sharp pain in his legs as they became rooted to the floor.

The strange man lowered his staff, giving a melodramatic sigh as he rose from his seat, wobbling a moment as the uncontrolled vehicle began to veer off. "If you needed a means of getting around, this was maybe not the best way to gain one." He touched the knob of the twisted, wooden weapon to the floor. Caleb could see his breath as the temperature dropped rapidly, felt what he knew was a block of ice around his right foot creep up his leg as another formed on his left.

I wanted--," began Caleb, trying hard to not let his teeth chatter, "to impress you. I s-saw what a great villain you were and w-wanted to work for you. This chopper is f-f-for you."

The wizard paused, mouth open in a silent 'o' that did not need much time to become a wide grin. With a broad, sweeping gesture, he dismissed the cold, letting the temperature return to normal almost too quickly. Caleb felt the blocks of ice holding him down almost immediately evaporate, causing him to stumble at first. "Well my boy, you've made a wise decision! As my pupil, you--"

He didn't get much further than that as the back of a pistol cracked against the side of his skull, sending the man into a slump. The boy gunslinger frowned as he examined the grip of his weapon, contemplating if there might be a better way to knock people unconscious that wouldn't hurt his things. A sudden jump by the helicopter reminded him that it was currently moving of its own volition and that it was time to make an escape. He found an emergency pack stashed under of the pilot seats and quickly strapped it on, moving to open the circular door Arachnos favored in everything they built. Caleb turned back to the three men passed out on the floor and said, "Here's to a safe landing," before leaping out into the open air above Bloody Bay.

It would be a massive understatement to call the Rogue Isles a strange place to live. It would be even more of one if you were not a member of its more 'elite' population, the soldiers of various villain groups, shady entrepreneurs or clawing Destined Ones; because while those with power and means could carve out a living for themselves and perhaps even find some comfort in their loosely defined home, the rest of the Isles' citizens can only scrape by on what remains when the more advantaged had already taken their pickings. This was how Caleb had lived these past few weeks, as one of them, most recently as part of a group of scavengers taking refuge in a run-down warehouse.

When he first made plans to leave, Caleb knew very well just how little Longbow could or even probably would do for him. Far too often he had heard the stories of how even the best undercover operations they ran were immediate targets for every villain with a newspaper and a few basic connections. More of a concern though was the idea that his prey might catch wind of the arrival of a familiar sounding hero with a grudge and flee to some other part of the world, never to be heard of again. That was unacceptable, so long as that same villain had his father's pistols in tow.

There was the real reason Caleb had gone through the trouble of sneaking into the Isles without Longbow aid or even awareness; not to avenge any of the agents that were injured or maybe even killed that day, not to bring anyone to justice, just for those pistols. As he struggled to survive while keeping a low profile, ear to the streets at all times for mention of a certain assassin with blonde hair and fists coated in dark energy, what was a determined hunt had begun to feel like much more. He needed to find this boy and-- and then what? Kill him? Do enough damage to end his career? Demand the pistols back and just leave? And that led to the ever-present fear that he simply didn't have them anymore, had sold them off immediately after the whole ambush and they were gone forever. In those most desperate moments when this became his prevailing thought, Caleb tried to convince himself he could squeeze information about the buyer from his attacker, but deep down he knew this was his only real shot. And thus, it became an obsession.

Why else would he continue to fight for food this way? For shelter and warmth? Let common villains he knew were far beneath him push him to the ground with the rest of the Isles' poor and laugh? Clutched helplessly at the inferior Freedom Corps. pistols and watched while citizens were tormented for sport? Caleb swore that when this was through, he would take the next Longbow assignment to help clean up this disgusting place, deadly attention be damned.

But first things first; for in these hard weeks Caleb had listened for any opportunities, granting him three pieces of important information:

His target is called Void Brawler.

Void Brawler was given a contract to bring in a Council deserter for questioning.

That deserter took shelter in this same warehouse.

-------------

Void Brawler landed silently in the square, unseen by the passersby. The assassin managed to fight off the urge to grimace as his leg flared up in what now seemed like a dull pain compared to the agony it originally sported. The claw marks Blightlord had left were only just now beginning to turn to simple scars from the infected mess they were before. Even so, whatever was in that toxin had yet to allow any full healing yet. Bitterly, he wondered if it would ever stop hurting completely.

The boy shook his head, trying to bring attention back to the task at hand. It was a simple job-- bring in a Council deserter alive for Arachnos, most likely to be tortured for potential secrets, or perhaps just for fun. It becomes hard to tell with Arachnos after a while. It should be as simple as strolling in, selecting the man who matches the provided description and then flying off with a passenger in tow.

Should be. But Void Brawler didn't survive this long in the Isles and more importantly under Blightlord by following the assumption that just because something should be easy meant it would be easy. Not when his gut was giving him every reason to abandon the whole thing and go home. And so the boy assassin, cloaked in shadows, crept into the warehouse, alert for any odd traps or ambushes. Every bit of intel stated that the occupants were nothing more than hopeless refugees, but something kept him on edge.

In the far corner, a group sat huddled about a trashcan fire, talking loudly as they watched an unlucky rat, stuck through with a broken piece of metal piping, slowly roast over the open flames. Void Brawler studied each of their faces, noting the silver edges on the brown hair of the one holding the pipe and, more importantly, of the chunk missing from his cheek where supposedly a rookie villain had taken a swipe some years ago. This was the man he was sent to retrieve.

Actually seeing the target calmed the boy's apprehensions somewhat, made him think perhaps he was just being jumpy about what really was a too easy task. So when he grabbed the deserter from behind and began to rise into the air with his cargo, the subtle sound of a weapon being drawn was almost lost on him.

Almost.

The gun fired and it was sheer instinct that allowed Void Brawler to drop out of the air in time, the bullet whizzing just over his head. His target landed with a harsh crack, crying out in pain as he clutched at a very broken ankle.

Thankful that he at least wouldn't have to worry about his contract running off, the assassin frantically searched for the owner of the gunshot as the refugees ran screaming for the door. He saw him then, the only one not fleeing the scene, a familiar boy with brown hair, tanned skin and a pistol in each hand, both pointed directly at him.

"Don't move, Void Brawler, or the next shot won't miss," he said, eyes hard, maybe even a little hollow. What had this boy been doing since the robbery?

Void Brawler raised both of his arms partway into the air, weighing his options as he spoke. "If you shoot me, how are you going to get what you want?" Ah, there it was, a twitch in gunslinger's face. He wasn't here to kill, he was here to recover, which meant it was time to have some fun. "What if I told you I didn't have them anymore?"

"I'd call you a liar," he snapped back, almost immediately. Every hunch Void Brawler had that day was confirmed in that little exchange. Those simple guns did mean quite a lot, obviously enough to drag this hero to the Isles. The only problem was the assassin still didn't entirely understand why he did it in the first place. "Give them back and I'll arrest you in one piece."

"So if I never give them to you, you won't arrest me. Sounds like my decision is made." Void smirked as shadows rapidly formed around his hands and moved down his arms until he himself was completely invisible. "Are you going to risk shooting at what you can't see?" The assassin silently padded back to the still moaning Council deserter, carefully positioning him as a human shield before returning to the air.

"Don't think I won't try it," answered the hero. "You're not getting away this time."

"I'll make you a deal," Void Brawler quickly replied. "Let me finish my contract without being chased down and I will meet you at Bloody Bay's docks before sundown. Neutral territory where you will get back your guns and everybody can get home safely when we're done. Fair?" He could see the other boy thinking heavily on the offer, probably trying to judge if it was sincere or not and taking too long for comfort. "This guy is really heavy and at this rate I'm going to be late turning him in, so let me put it this way: It's the only way you'll ever know what I did with them."

That seemed to clinch it. Nearly fuming, the other boy replied, "Fine. By sundown. And if you go back on this, I will find you again."

Void Brawler felt an odd sort of relief when the gunslinger agreed. He wasn't sure why, as he had likely just led himself into a later fight that wasn't necessary at all. "I'll be there. In the meantime, you seem to have picked up my name but I don't know what to call you."

"My registered name is Twist Shot."

Void Brawler nodded, not the hero could see it. "Twist Shot it is," he said. "Until later, then." The assassin flew out a hole in the tin roof with his target in hand, leaving Twist Shot where he stood, staring blankly at the space he had been hovering in a moment ago. He would keep his promise to the gunslinger and meet him on those docks. What would happen next, he couldn't say. He knew the smart thing would be to figure that out beforehand, but all the same pushed the matter aside for later. After all, they both had acted against their better judgment once today already.

If I legitimately kill off a character in a story or plot of some kind, I delete them. But typically a character dies off because I am/want to delete them.

Caleb stood outside of the Freedom Corps armory, trying to resist the heavy sigh he felt building inside. Really, he should be glad that he even had this resource, but the actual need to call it in was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. The teen reluctantly trudged up the steps and through the single door. Immediately, a guard asked for identification. The boy had to make a concious effort not to roll his eyes as he dug for the wallet in the back of his jeans. "Really, with everything I do for you guys..." he muttered, tugging the license from its pocket. Satisfied, the guard waved him onward.

The building wasn't terribly impressive. After the security checkpoint was a short hallway that ended with a wall in which a set of double push doors sat. In front of that, a desk and the large, busy clerk who sat at it. The man was older and balding, face illuminated by the glow of a monitor. In the reflection on the clerk's glasses, Caleb could see images of men and creatures running around, fighting. It took a moment for the boy to realize he wasn't watching some battle feed, but was in fact playing some form of computer game. This time the eye roll made its way forward; thankfully the clerk looked up too late to catch it. He examined Caleb over the rim of his glasses before returning to his screen. "Something you need, boy?"

Already agitated by the events of the last twenty-four hours, the emphasis on boy really put Caleb off. But he needed something from these people if he was going to get anywhere with his search. "I'm calling in a favor. I have a slip here for my order," he said, sliding a piece of paper across the desk. Without taking his eyes off of the monitor, the man continued the paper's slide toward himself. He glanced down briefly at it before mumbling in agitation and switching views on his screen to something a little more official looking.

"You need replacements, eh? Can't hold on to your own weapons so now you want to lose some of ours? Pretty careless of you," said the man, still not bothering to look at Caleb. Good thing too, because the boy was fairly certain his face was scrunching up in a rather angry look. "I suppose I'll just have to go back and see if we have anything for you. Don't get your hopes up." With a grunt, the clerk pushed himself away from his desk, slowly rising into a large, upward stretch. Caleb looked away as the man's too-small shirt rose a tad high, revealing a pretty unsightly image. The clerk waddled into the back, pushing both doors open. As they swung inward, the teen could clearly see the impressive size of the back storage area. He severely doubted they didn't have anything for him, though at this point he wouldn't have put it past the clerk to make it seem some great sacrifice was being made.

After a few impatient moments, the man trudged back in with a metal briefcase. With a slight huff, he heaved it onto the desk, rotating the object so it opened toward himself instead of Caleb. Giving the boy a suspicious look, he covered each latch as he slid the locks to their correct combinations. The two clicks of the briefcase echoed in the hallway and with mock-ceremony, the clerk opened it. He picked up each item inside, inspecting behind the briefcase's cover where Caleb was still unable to see. He gave each an unnecessarily long look before slowly setting them back in place and turning the case toward the teen.

He couldn't help but show his dismay at the two pistols that were presented to him. Simple, dirty metal with grips that was clearly not designed for comfort. Just by looking at them, it was clear they hadn't been serviced in some time and the sights might even need some adjusting.. He hesitantly picked up one, holding it up to the flourescent light for a better look. Nothing was cracked, and at least they were two of the same kind, but they hardly compared to the set that was stolen.

"If you would kindly take a break from that frowning disapproval of yours," interrupted the clerk, "you need to sign for these." The large man pushed a form towards Caleb. When he took his hand away, sweaty marks in the shape of a palm left were left on the paper. "And then I would kindly ask that you leave. We are far too busy here for loitering teenagers to be hanging about."

More than tired of the way he was being treated, Caleb finally shot the man a very dirty look before taking the offered pen. The clerk backed down a bit, second guessing how much he could get away with, especially now that the form was signed. As he holstered the guns, the teen gave a brief, "Thank you," though it caused him some pain to say it, before heading back out of the building.

Once he was a few yards away, the boy took the pistols from their holsters and tried a few basic tricks, first spinning the guns slowly, one at a time, then both, and then finally faster. Each maneuver deepened his frowns as it became clear just how poorly weighted they were by comparison to his own set. He gave the safety a quick check before tossing one up into the air and trying to catch it. The alarm he felt at feeling his hand catching the barrel rather than the grip served to show just how much adjusting he would need to do for these weapons before he did any serious hunting.

In the distance, PPD sirens could be heard, responding to some disaster or other that had just struck. With a brief nod to himself, Caleb re-holstered the pistols and hurried off in their direction. It was time to get in some target practice.

--------------------

Void Brawler was standing very still in the large, circular room Blightlord had deemed for his throne. The archvillain himself was sitting on its glistening, black surface, watching as artifacts methodically flew from the extra-dimensional pouch and into the air for his inspection. As more and more items joined the procession, he began to tap talon-like fingers impatiently upon the armrest. Though the sound cast a light echo in the room, for Void Brawler, it was almost deafening. Blightlord was looking for something in particular that he had not found yet and the boy had a sinking feeling he knew what became of it.

A few more moments passed before the master of undeath abruptly stood, sweeping his arm wide before him. The objects flew hard and fast toward Void Brawler and it was sheer instinct that kept him from violently pelted by them as they continued on their way around the room to behind the throne and through the great mirror's glass. "Perhaps..." began Blightlord, taking measured steps down the daias, "I was unclear. I gave you a means to discern what I wanted from the refuse, did I not?"

Void Brawler rose from the crouch he had landed in, hands clenched tight behind his thighs. He could feel a bead of sweat forming on his forehead, but pushed his courage forward to say fully, "Yes, my lord."

Blightlord stopped some few feet from the boy, slowly placing his arms behind his back. "I would go so far to say," he said, "that such a gesture was almost kind of me. Wouldn't you?"

Though his initial instinct was to wince and nod, Void Brawler again forced out another confident-sounding, "Yes, my lord." His own breath held, and Blightlord never taking one gave the room a horrible stillness. Everything felt suspended in those few seconds before Blightlord would speak again.

"Then you can surely repay my kindness with an explanation of your failure," he said evenly, "since it seems completing this task was asking too much of you." The archvillain's expression was blank. It was not threatening, it was not curious. There was no way for the boy to judge what would happen in these next moments.

And so it was that he decided on a bluff. "I don't understand, my lord. I brought back everything you requested," replied the boy, working hard to keep his gaze locked with Blightlord's and unflinching. The next thing he knew, all the air was pushed out of him as some hit his stomach with tremendous force. Void Brawler felt himself flying back before slamming hard against the wall. His back let out a horrible popping sound on the impact and pain shot to every limb. He struggled to move them, but found himself encased in a sickly, green mass that seemed to constrict tighter each second, hardening. Blightlord lowered his arm, wiping the remains of the same goo away from his person before fixing his gaze back on the boy with eyes burning with fury.

His voice soft, low and threatening, Blightlord spoke. "Free will is not a right you hold, boy. It is a privilege granted by my grace alone, and you would do well to make yourself appear worthy of it." He began to move toward the trapped teenager, hand clenching and unclenching, nails beginning to drip a foul-smelling substance. "I would have thought lying to me to be an obvious mistake, but..." Blightlord raised his hand, considering the toxin that dripped onto his palm and down his arm, "It seems you still require tutelage." Blightlord swiped his nails into the boy's exposed leg, dragging them down the calf to the ankle. Void Brawler cried out as the poison burned in the gash like an acid. Dizziness began to set in as dark spots clouded his vision and an overwhelming urge to empty the content of his stomach arose. Blightlord took a casual step backward as both overtook the boy, vomit soiling what parts of him weren't covered by the now rock-like ooze.

With a light chuckle, Blightlord moved forward to examine his handiwork. The color of the blood that escaped the wound was of particular interest to him, now that it was clear the effects of the toxin worked fast enough. Perhaps even too fast. Not quite as much time was spent in pain as the necromancer would have preferred. Satisfied, he laid a hand atop the mass that suspended Void Brawler. Instantly, it softened, the boy sliding through it to land in a slump against the wall. As the ooze itself melded into the wall, Blightlord waved a hand over the boy. An almost quicksand-like pool formed beneath him, dragging the boy under and out of the Master of Undeath's sight. If the mood struck him, there was always time to test more concoctions once the boy awoke.

Agreed. Kudos on the comic XD

After reading that, I actually would like to request Icon as an AE option-- and Facemaker too!

I'm personally a little surprised by the amount of positive reactions here. I will grant that, yes, these are really cool looks overall, but the amount of flash and detail in these is seriously over-the-top for an enemy model we encounter before even reaching level 10, don't you think? Are these simply the high-level versions of the outfits and there are some fewer-pieced lowbie incarnations?

Also, while I don't mind the caster minions having a little ostentation to them, it seems like the guards and such shouldn't be entitled to the amount of flash they're getting.

Lastly, I can tell this isn't standard for the current art team, to go this big and frankly, over the top, with a look. Does no one else think that these outfits are a little odd when you picture the Circle standing next to pretty much any other mob in the game? You don't think every group introduced after this will feel a little underwhelming, visually? These guys even -look- more powerful than just about every Archvillain in the game, and that's not good. And I'm by no means suggesting or wanting a remodel like this for the other groups. My point is The Praetorian Guard is a great example of a well-done, recently created group. They aren't swimming in decoration and fancy bits and they look great. The redesign honestly feels like more of a marketing ploy than one of aesthetics. Why no more robes, despite it being one of the major complaints about the first look? Because they don't work on the player models. And what this redesign is really doing is trying to sell new pieces on the Paragon Market by giving very prominent examples of what they can do.

They're awesome costume pieces, but being used across an enemy group like this not only reduces their effect, but makes the group seem completely incongruous with everything in the game up this point, old or new. And not even in an ancient civilization way. There's some echoes of it I think- but there's still just a little too much happening to really sell that idea.

Wouldn't this look be better served on Elite Bosses and Archvillains? Enemy classes that deserve a little grandeur and don't show up so much that they reduce the impact of the design? The Circle really do work in their less is more approach, I promise. And without risking the artistic arc of the game, I think a few images on the website combined with player representation will sell these new pieces on the market just fine.

Overall, a little modification on Hammi could be really great. He seems to have become a little neglected by the playerbase since Incarnate content really got rolling. Of course, any changes made would ideally not also make crashes during the raids more frequent.

Anyone else take a look at that banner there ^^^^^ and feel States is giving the CoH logo the crazy-eye? Almost as if his eyes are focusing in two different directions?

I'm seeing a lot of repeated sentiments here and some very interesting opposing views. From when I first picked up this game (roughly three months after it's initial launch) til today, anytime I see Swan, I do have a moment where I try to decide if she is wearing a costume or has an odd skin discoloration. She could benefit at least from there being a textural difference between her costume and skin. That or sharper lines at the outfit's edge. I like the overall look, it's graceful, light, elegant, there's nothing about what personality we've been shown of hers that contradicts with the sexual aspects of the costume so that's all fine. It just sometimes doesn't look like she's really wearing a costume, even up close.

Manticore I originally thought looked kind of ridiculous with his mane-helmet, but the look has really grown on me over time.

I feel like Lady Grey would benefit from some Steampunk pack loving. Her look is alright and I do get a sense of dignity, but I also get the sense there's some real room for stylistic oomph in her design that's not there right now. She's supposed to take her look from the Victorian era if I remember correctly from the TCG? Now we have Victorian pieces, a distinct lack of notable NPCs who are using them and, best of all, one who could wear them appropriately.

Valkyrie and Battlemaiden I agree are lacking at the moment. Neither of their costumes have ever been that impressive to me, to be honest and I've always shared the sentiment that if the spear is going to be so central to the backstory, it needs to be utilized. Her ranged attack is a nice nod, but it just feels weird that she would use a sword with that monster strapped to her back. I liked one suggestion of giving them visible hair to add some beauty or grace to the model, but I would assume everyone on Battle Earth (male and female) has very short-cropped hair that can't be grabbed onto in a fight. Perhaps the answer lies in less bland armor? The whole silhouette is very flat. She needs pieces on her armor that not only fixes that, but have an apparent functional use as well.

***

I want to talk about some nicely working GMs for a sec (and step away from redesign thoughts-- I get the sense that's not really what Dave is looking for from this thread).

Jurassik- When I first heard about this Devouring Earth nasty, I expected something a bit more... slimy maybe? Not a rock monster anyway. But what really made me get over him not being some gross creature was his steel-beam-and-a-freaking-car mace. It cracked me up and put me in a sort of awe all at once. I knew right away that this was a creature with the potential to do some damage.

Adamastor- His look is honestly I little underwhelming for me. Again, this is a character that could just be grosser at his size (which is the one really awesome thing about him). Right now he comes off as little more than a super-sized version of the Pantheon minions.

Babbage and Paladin- Both are pretty neat. I think texturally, Babs might be showing some age but Paladin avoids that with his spiky look. There isn't anything outlandishly special about their look apart from the current Clockwork bosses, but given the progression of the enemies appearance, I'm not sure that's wrong for this group. What they really have going for them is they both just look mean. Babbage's face and size and Paladin's hand-spikey-mace are enough to give player's a sense that they're not to be messed with solo.

Echoai and Jack in Irons- Echoai is cool looking, but only because the Fir Bolg look cool at that size. The giant flaming pumpkin head is just neat to look at visually, and the incredibly long vines he has for arms and legs make him seem even ganglier (in a good way) because of how they intertwine to make his body. He doesn't really stand apart from them for me, but like the Clockwork GMs, I'm not sure he has to. Jack in Irons is an incredible bit of character design. He's exactly what you would picture a fairy-tale giant to be-- big, pasty, overweight, sunken-eyed-- and if you miss the chains he's sporting (not impossible) there's that wonderful, gritty neck collar of his. He just looks like a creature bound. And those skulls he carries just really shore up any creeping out that remained to be accomplished. The first time I saw him shove those bad boys forward, I just remember being very impressed by the whole image.

Sally- I just feel bad for brawling her, all for a badge. She's labeled as a monster, but her look is so sweet and peaceful. The colors and texture/sheen of her skin mixed with the eye color is kind of beautiful as well.

Kraken- He's about what I'd expect. He's probably the first Giant Monster a hero will run into, or at least he used to be, and is just a bigger version of the Hydra colored black. But that's fine, because he doesn't need anything special. Black is a foreboding color to start and he's going to be the biggest thing a player has seen thus far, not to mention conning purple and being level-less. It would be cool if there was a piece of subtle Rikti tech on him to hint at the Hydra's tie to the later parts of the game (justified by that the Kraken's power/size requires that the nearby beacons receive a little signal boost to keep it under control.) But again, for such an early-game encounter, he doesn't necessarily need to be set apart. In fact, if he's set apart distinctly and later GMs aren't escalating from that, it creates a sort of step backwards.

Lusca- This GM just deserves more player-attention. He could easily be the lowbie equivalent of a raid, but no one gives him the time of day anymore it seems. He's a really nice example of his look also having a function in that his tentacles can attack/be attacked seperately. It would have been very easy for the devs to make it all one entity and just have him lash out with different tents depending what direction he was striking, but they didn't, and he seems more alive for it. So kudos.

Kronos- He's just cool because of his sheer size. We have so few massive models in this game that actually appear in content, and even less that are fightable. (I'm looking at you, Rularuu and those 5th Column mechs from the Imperious TF). Not to mention it used to be the only way you encountered this guy was as a freaking ambush outside after a very easily solo'ed mission. There was no doubt that the Malta wanted you deader than dead, and if the initial heart attack from Kronos' arrival didn't do the job, his missile launchers sure would. In general, all white isn't a very intimidating appearance however. The only reason Kronos is intimidating is his incredible size. Beyond that, he has no intimidating aspects. In fact, I think the white-wash, smooth metal takes a little away from him.

All that said, as I look at the list of villain GMs, I can't help but notice they all seem to be just larger versions of earlier encounters. And while yes, Caleb is pretty frightening at that size, there's just a distinct lack of special to them. GMs need to be special in some way. These are characters that you only encounter in one zone either after accomplishing a chain of obscure events (Caleb) or only spawn once every eight hours or so (pretty much every hero-side GM). That kind of rarity should be reflected in their look beyond just upping the scale on a current model.

I agree with everyone else that Ghost Widow's look is stunning and does what it needs to, so other than that:

Recluse is nicely imposing. The pieces and colors all feel royal and evil, as well as powerful. The animated legs are interesting and hold your attention, and the fur on his back nicely reinforces both the spider and ruler effect for me. And a frightening spider at that (cause any spider you can refer to as visibly furry is going to be horrifying).

Mother Mayhem I am a fan of, actually. Maybe because her redesign is so different from her Pre-GR look, but in a pretty way. I *love* her colors and the hair. The problem with her outfit however is that I'm not seeing that controlling side of her. I believe from her outfit that she would cause all kinds of mayhem, but that "mother" (big quotes on that) is not being communicated in the look, pretty as it is.

Dominatrix- Her look is fine so long as you can imagine her holding that whip (since she doesn't really use it nor would it make sense for her to hold it all day long in her trainer model.) She's the one doing the dominating, so putting her in a more bondage-y outfit wouldn't be right. The colors are dark and go well together, but something about her doesn't feel overpowering or demanding enough.

Siege- Obviously this is the most drastic redesign. It tells me a lot more about Praetoria than the character, being that it's a little more militant/power-obsessed. I got the feel that they don't care so much about him looking human as being the biggest killing machine possible. I'm not crazy about the look (I can't say for sure why it doesn't click with me) but I think the idea is right

Sister Psyche- To be frank, I feel either her look was made during a developer dry spell, or her personality was born out of the thought that it would be hilarious for a mind reader to be offended by lewd thoughts. She doesn't look powerful, immortal or even wise. It just looks like fan service. And while I understand from an advertising perspective that's good to have, it's just not meshing with the personality and backstory that's being presented.

In all honesty, I could toss out an opinion for each character, but those are the first few that came to mind.

It was raining.

Forsaking any means of shelter, Void Brawler sat atop the roof of a building surrounded by others much taller than itself as he considered his next move. Escaping Paragon City was always interesting. When you worked for Arachnos, often times your means of entry remained there to serve as a means of extraction; a submarine, a helicopter. But when you worked for Blightlord...

The boy assassin suppressed a shiver as the rain finally soaked through his costume and made contact with skin. He reminded himself that things like that should be taken as a blessing because, at that exact moment, he was free and alive, and the feeling of that rain was proof. And who knew how long either of those things would remain true. It was by some narrow chance that he had managed to scrape everything Blightlord demanded into an extra-dimensional pouch and still evade the first-responders. The three-hour chase had finally broken down into more a high-stakes game of hide and go seek, leaving him precious moments for recollection and planning.

He reached into that pouch, drawing out a pair of pistols. A small souveneir for himself from this morning. It had been clear to Void Brawler from the moment he saw them that these weren't simply bought at a Paragon City gun shop or through some other common weapon supplier. More likely than not, these were special to that other boy in some way. It was the least that hero could have given for having his life spared like that. Thinking to that moment, when he had hesitated to simply snap the other boy's neck and be done with it, made Void Brawler's stomach churn. If these two guns really did mean something, that hero would come for them. The smart thing to do would be to dispose of the weapons as quickly and profitably as possible and forget the whole thing...

A flash of lightning was rapidly followed by a thunderclap. The boy whirled quickly, fearing the weather was not entirely natural, but there was no sign of observers, caped or otherwise. Stormy weather used to be something peaceful... Suddenly much more eager to be out of Paragon than before, he dropped the pistols back into the bag and moved to the edge of the roof. Below, Longbow's jet-packed troops flew through the streets, still in pursuit. As he brought an arm up to wipe the droplets of rain from his sunglasses, the boy became determined they wouldn't catch his trail again. Void Brawler inhaled deeply before kicking off the roof's lip and flying through the air, off toward Independence Port where a smuggler could get him back to the Isles safely. For a small fee, of course. The boy thoughtfully felt the extra-dimensional pouch and thought of the two pistols sitting inside, as well as a fence he knew of not more than a few blocks away.

Void Brawler reached a hand inside, pulling out a small, black artifact that hummed with power at his touch. If he was already going to regret one choice today, what was the harm in one more?

------------------------

Caleb woke to the sound of thunder. Vision blurry, it took him several moments to realize he was not in familiar surroundings. The white walls brought flashes of panic to the boy. He rapidly sat up and leapt to his feet, hands immediately reaching for a pair of absent pistols. If he wasn't panicked already, the feeling was certainly there now.

"Sir, sir!" a voice called-- a woman's. "Please, sir, if you could just remain seated for a moment." Caleb turned to see a nurse rushing toward him. I'm in the hospital... He turned to face the stretcher he had been lying on just moments before, frantically scanning it and the area around it for his guns. "I understand you're eager to get back out there, but it's over. You were brought in several hours ago."

Hours? The woman placed a gentle hand on the boy's arm, guiding him to sit down on the stretcher. "Ma'am, I'm missing my weapons. Do you know where they're being kept? It's a pair of pistols, long barreled, about--"

The woman's expression made Caleb's heart sink. She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. "I'm sorry sir, but you didn't medi-port in with any weapons on you, nor did the Longbow recovery team bring anything by from the incident this morning. Are you certain you had them on you?"

It took a lot for Caleb not to give the nurse a very dirty look at that moment. Tense from head to toe, he replied, "Yes, I'm pretty certain."

"Right... Well, I'm sure they'll turn up. Now, as the only... well, as someone who can tell them exactly what happened, there are some men downstairs who wanted to speak with you once you were up and ask some questions, okay, hun? If you would just sit tight there, I'll go get them." The woman quickly hurried off, not wishing to stick around the awkward situation any longer than she had to.

Soon as the nurse had entered the elevator, Caleb stepped away from the stretcher. He headed toward the trio of elevators himself, pressing the call button. It would be easy to step inside one, ride it up a few floors, then all the way back down to the lobby. By then the Longbow agents should be inside an elevator of their own. The boy would be able to leave the hospital free and right away. He was in no mood for questions about this morning, not when something irreplaceable was missing from him and not when there was a distinct lack of familiar faces in that hospital wing.

Caleb would do a search of his own around where the truck was hit. After that, it was time to go hunting.