CactusBrawler

With even a tiny ounce of thought you could make a concept fit any in game build you want.

"Psychic" energy/dev blaster the devices and blasts are psionic constructs and force.

Good none Warshade Nictus? Simple the Nictus didn't join in with the others who had become Warshades simply because in addition realising the errors of its ways it also decided that it shouldn't trust others again.

I mean if you were to tie everything down to game play mechanics the lack of a "robot" voice would mean all robots in the cityies are actually men/women in suits.

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The events in the official history happened, as far as our characters are concerned.

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History is written not by the victor or the defeated but by historians. The offical story of stuff is just what is accepted.
We "know" that Russia nuked America in CoX history but, how do we "know" said nuke was really a nuke, not a space time tear, spell cast by cyborg Rasputin (they shot, posioned him, stabbed him. beat him, drowned him but it was Windows ME that killed him) or the destruction of a nucleur powered dinosaur?
Any number of indivduals in the RP world could of simply paid people off so that history mentions things differently.

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TBH, I think your version of the historical Blood Countess is sufficiently different to be classed as a homage character anyway, not a copy. Afterall, the real Countess Bathory didn't actually bathe in blood.

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I know that.. its part of the legend. The people who lived in the area at the time where suficiently scared to make some stuff up. But as she bloody tortured and killed over 600, it was easy to use it to form blood rituals and make her a vampire...

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At least GoodGuy is purely original. I mean, how many invulnerable, superstrong, flying heroes with laser-beam eyes and a spandex costume with a big letter on their chest is there out there?

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hehehe... I have an super-strength/invulnerable tanker with lasereyes, super speed, fly on Defiant... called Uebermensch, after Niesche...

Just couldn't resist. And it's a real fun to play build.

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Damn you!

Wanted thaty name for a Fifth colum esq Superman tribute :P

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Are the previously-discussed characters unoriginal? Not touching that one with a ten foot bargepole.



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Same here, it's definately not worth starting a row over.

I do have ONE question though, directed at the players of historical characters. What would you do if another player turned up, playing exactly the same character? Bear in mind that, as they pay their subs too, they have equal rights to portray a public domain historical figure as you do.

In fact, I'm kinda curious as to what anyone would do, if faced with 2 characters claiming to be the same person. I think I'd be inclined ignore both and save myself the aggravation.

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I'm Sparticus?

This is just my personal pennys worth, RP a semi-real character who is reknowned for their historical acts doesn't really fit in.

Okay so your Vlad The Implaer welcome to the digital age telling everyone you are Vlad Tepes immortal vampire or even jsut Vlad Tepe means your just one google search away from a trip to the sun or a nice crey.arachnos lab stay.

Thats without things like Angels and Divinly Powered Psychics wandering around.

If your going to RP a historical figure you should at least use a fake name, otherwise you wouldn't have much chance after a mob of super heroes looks yah up in the libary.

Various newspapers report on the on air assault of anchorman Chip Summers. A description of the assailant and a transcript of its words are given.

The news doesn’t appear on the front page rather a page twenty or so small story.

Link

Paragon City.

Sarah sat bathing in the light of the view screen she was doing three things.
Firstly she was watching for new information on The Terra Liberation Front, this wasn’t unusual she always did this when not out on patrol. Secondly she was reviewing the days events, comparing her actions to different tactical scenarios to see if she could of acted faster and safer, again this wasn’t unusual she always did this when returning from patrol. Thirdly she was eating ice cream, this was unusual her groceries were always plain, she didn’t have the finances or means to cook anything fancy in her base.

Ice cream was a luxury something she wouldn’t buy her self, it had been a gift and it was delicious.

Savouring the feeling of the cold material melting in her mouth and the rich chocolate flavour she thought back remembering why she had been given it.

She was returning home from patrol when her sensors alerted her to the sound of voices raised in argument.
Homing in on the sources of the argument she came to a small seven eleven, thought the window she could see a gang of Skulls pressuring what appeared to be the elderly shop owner.

She walked in letting deliberately letting the door slam shut behind her, a bell hooked up to the door jingled as it closed.

For a moment she was the center of attention, and in that moment she’d already begun reacting. Machine and muscle forced her forward at lightning speed her blade had dropped two of the Skulls before the bell had stopped its chimes.

She span and dropped the third gang member, in which nearly proved to be a fatal mistake, she had misjudged the speed at which the fourth could aim and fire at her.

The shotgun blast hit her full on the chest impacting on her home made armour, she gasped as it forced the air out of her, winced once as she felt a rid snap and again as it was forced back into its correct position.

She focused on the gun, time slowed as she rushed towards him almost leaping from the floor, he was cocking the gun ready to fire again, her blade slid along the gun sending blue sparks as it rode the length of his weapon and slashed his arm. The gun dragged his now useless arm down, before it had fully pointed at the floor she’d knocked him out.

She’d advised the store owner to call for the police and left.

He’d come running out after her this little old man and given her a big tub of ice cream.

“little girls like ice cream. Bet little robots do as well.” He’d said.

A voice she knew well shocked her out of her remembrance something was on the view screen.

The Rogue Islands

Chip Summers was a TV star and king of the anchormen, or at least so he told himself. Others might call him that oily haired goon off of the Channel Eight news.

“Good evening Rogue Islands. Here is the news at ten and I’m Chip Summers” he stated in his smarmy voice.

He was cut off however as the air behind him seemed to bulge for a second and then a small armoured figure appeared behind him. With an audible whirr it grabbed him by the hair and smashed his face several times into the desk, it paused looked at him seemingly critically and then smashed his head into the desk one more time.

“Statement: Continue Transmission. Else: This Male Will Cease Functions” the armoured figure said in a dull machine voice.

The figure pulled Chip back into a sitting position and then tipped him and his chair over, the figure stood behind the desk only shoulders and head visible

“Target: Ben Campbel This Unit Requests: Cessation Of Investigation. Actions Against Your Target Relationship: Wife. Merely Business.” It paused as if communicating with some one else

“Target: Ben Campbel Suggestion: Seek The Ones Who Offered Payment In Return For Action Against You. Further Action Against: Organisation: Pointless: Will Lead To Reprisals.” It paused again then the air seemed to vibrate around it and static filled that area of the screen. The figure was gone

The camera kept rolling for a minute or two as various staff members rushed to take care of Chip.

((Short post got in very late. This stuff happens shortly after last nights failed kidnap attempt))

Rogue Islands. Unknown Location.

The girl stood, unclothed in the heart of a machine the smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils, she ignored it. It wasn’t important.

A system of lasers traced the contours of her body occasionally flashing into full power cauterising wounds.

Her armour was wrecked gashed in places by the blades of Ben Campbell.

The operation had been a failure of epic proportions.

A plan began to form flashing from brain to machine and back again.

Program Epsilon 5 began to form interfacing directly with her brain. It would hurt, a flash of electricity rewriting memories erasing the events of the last week and replacing them with fiction.

It would hurt more when Epsilon 6 wrote back the true events.

Of course pain and the time taken to recover were resources that the girl evaluated as better not to spend unless necessary.

But to keep the Hates Engine Project running she would do anything.

((OOC: For Those Interested in the Hates Engine RP just read the part about the evil girl ‘who may at some point get an actual name’))

The Sewers: Paragon City

The sewer stank, which was unsurprising when you considered what it existed for. Once again Sarah wondered why so many villains saw fit to make their lairs in the sewers immediately her augmentations provided answers, lack of surveillance by authorities, warmth, lack of traffic. The list continued.

She got a response on the sonar a figure some distance away, leaning against a wall panting, about five six and overweight.

She closed the distance before the figure had fully recovered his breath. A punch to the back of his knee brought him down to her height a hand over his mouth kept him silent.

He must have been a new recruit into the Lost, he was still weak unfit and human.

She touched the edge of the energy blade to his throat, it couldn’t harm him, but he didn’t know that and the way it hummed and vibrated the air around the blade made it seem more of a threat.

“How many? How far ahead?” she snarled into his ear letting the augmentations affect her voice robbing it of human qualities disguising the fact she was just a child.

“Ten. Ma..maybe five minutes” He wheezed when she released her grip

She span slashing the edge of the blade through his neck, unconscious he toppled face forward to the floor.

Sarah ran constantly scanning ahead of her.

Within minutes she had caught up with them, she leapt in her energy blade casting flickering shadows with its blue glow.

Seconds past nine were down, she turned looking for the tenth and felt pain.

It felt like something was clawing at her brain, tearing her mind to shreds. She dropped to one knee whimpering in pain, a figure stepped out of the shadows, a twisted mutation of what had once been a man. One hand was extended towards her, twisted and animalistic it was made up of two long fingers and thick thumb.

He appeared to be saying something but with the blood rushing her ears from pain she couldn’t hear.

The figure pushed out his other hand, black spots were filling Sarah’s vision as she fought to not black out. A countdown filled her head, at zero she gave a cry of animalistic inhuman rage and forced herself to stand, machine forced flesh to move to advance on the figure. She swung the blade down in an overhead arc striking the figure clean in the face, he dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. Coughing and gasping for air, Sarah’s wiped blood from her nose and looked around for the briefcase.

Undisclosed Location. Rogue Islands.

Mary Kelly shivered she’d been left on her own for hours in this cold room, still strapped to a chair.

Being left alone wasn’t so bad, better than the company of that man.

Normally at this time, she thought, I’d be at the post wrap party for the show sipping a cocktail and getting pats on the back. Not locked up by some creepy girl and her evil what? Uncle? Lover? Creator maybe?

A clang came from the heavy looking door, silently Mary prayed it wasn’t the man again.

A figure walked in a machine or a child in armour from the size. It closed the door with a whirr and walked over to the bound woman.

“So Target: Mary Kelly. You Still Live Perhaps You Are Smarter Than First Assessment Indicated” the figure said its voice mechanical and distorted

“Why? Me why not some other TV star?” Mary asked

“It Is Not Your Social Status: That Makes You: Ideal” the figure said watching her

“What then?” Mary demanded

“Your Mutation. Your Psionic Abilities” the machine answered

Got to keep it talking, Mary thought, Keep it talking and get in its head if there is anyone there

“How did you know?” Mary asked pushing out with her mind

“Your Own: Arrogance: Led To Your Downfall. Several Years Back: You Acted: As A Negotiator For The Family” the figure paused to look at Mary

“The Name Of Your TV Show: The Same As The Code Name Used Previously. The Methods Used In The Show: The Same”

Success, Mary thought, I’m in

The figures mind was wrong, things that should be there weren’t or were in the wrong place, she Mary realised with shock that the figure was the girl from before.

She pushed deeper finding nothing no emotions, nothing to work with, deeper still and visions filled her head.

Plans of fire and glass, thousands of armoured figures marching, a robed lizard like figure preaching to a mass of silent soldiers.

Her vision exploded and she found her self staring at the roof. The little ***** had backhanded her she realised.

“Target: Mary Kelly. You Will Not Attempt That Action Again.” The girl said in her monotone distorted voice

“Punishment Shall Now: Commence.” The girl picked Mary and the chair up by her hair and dragged them out of the door

“Target: Mary Kelly You Will Added To The Engine: Now. Operations Will Start. This Unit Calculates That In the Weeks It Will Take You To Cease Functioning Enough Psionics Will Be Gathered For World Wide Effect.”

As she was dragged along Mary began to sob.

Various Newspapers in the Rogue Islands report the disappearance of TV talk show host Mary Kelly. The TV studio is offering a reward. According to the papers she disappeared from the studios shortly after filming her hit show “Street Talk”.


((OOC: Setting Up For A New RP stroyline ))

Paragon City

Sarah travelled from alleyway to alley way constantly looking out for surveillance cameras. In the city of heroes it seemed like some one was always watching you. Her augmentations informed her they were nearing their target.

As she neared her target she heard laughter coarse, harsh and drunken. The sound of a man pleading for something. She peered around the corner looking into the street, there a gang of punks dressed mainly in red

Even without the prompting of her tactical upgrades she recognised the gang Hellions.

The group were pushing around a middle aged man and looting what appeared to be a hot dog stand.

Reaching to her belt she pulled out a metal tube a twist of the wrist and thin antenna like pole extended from it, the length of the antenna soon be came covered with a crackling blue field of energy.

The voice of the machine silently informed her that interference was a bad idea, pointless a waste of resources. It listed various negatives to her choice of action. She was tired it stated, her right arm was makeshift, she was hungry and the mission she had accepted in exchange for certain technological supplies had a time limit.

She listened to the negatives, she didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

Still she would intervene but out of necessity she wouldn’t strike poses, give a heroic speech or just strike like lightning and be gone as quick.

The lead Hellion was mouthing off a the man waving a pistol in his face

“Its all about give and take you see? You give us some money every Tuesday and we don’t take offence. Can’t say fairer tha” he was cut off as at break neck speeds Sarah dashed past him and slashed the energy blade across his back.

He fell pole axed and quivering. In its blue field setting Sarah’s blade was none lethal, its strikes disrupting nerve systems rather than cutting an opponent, anything except a direct strike to the heart would paralyse an opponent for hours but not kill them.

Before the lead Hellion had fallen she’d already struck another gang member across the legs and arms. One swung an overhead blow with a baseball bat, and in a show reckless confidence she reached up and grabbed it with her machine arm.

Or at least she tried to, the new arm was not as responsive as her previous, she caught it slightly later than intended and the bat struck her a glancing blow to the head. For a second she lost focus and blood began to flow from her broken scalp.

Cursing her own pride she dropped the other Hellion gang members in a matter of seconds.

Her scanners warned her a police patrol was approaching so before the startled stall owner could thank her she ran into the alleyways and her mission location.

A sewer cover she lifted it with ease motors in her arm giving a slight whirr of protest as she dangled from its under side and sent a sonar scan down the tunnel. Listening out for the echoes meant her hearing was enhanced far more than normal she heard even underground the man talking to the police.

“Yeah she just put them down in a flash and ran off, it’s a pity I’d of given her a hotdog on the house too..”

The rest of his words she didn’t hear as she dropped from the underside of the manhole cover and landed with a splash.

John Eddwins had asked her to do this on the hush, he was taking some new design plans to the Science and Technology Expo centre when his briefcase and the plans inside were stolen. Though the briefcase was chipped with a tracking device, he’d lose his job if it was reported to the police.

A deal had been made she got his briefcase back from the lost, he’d supply her with some of his companies proto-type inertia dampeners.

Sarah trudged deeper into the sewers, her stomach growled.

“Should of stayed for the hotdog” she muttered.

Rogue Islands: Caup Au Diablo

The girl was uncomfortable, that is to say her body temperature was above standard levels. Despite the warmth of the studio she was wearing a hooded long thick winters coat. Several sizes too big it was a necessary part of the plan.

With the hood up and the sleeves down she looked like any other child in a coat they would grow into.

The tour guide was droning on, though the girl heard every word it wasn’t information needed for the plan and so she discarded it.

The tour group moved on past the ware house where they filmed such shows as ‘Capes And Kisses’ and other such soap operas.

The girl noted once again how light the security was in such a place. She marvelled at the foolishness of such lack of precautions.

She slowed her walk slightly pacing it so that she gradually fell to the back of the group of tourists. The tour guide started talking again this time about the popular show “Web Of Love” the tale of female Longbow officer and the Arachnos Wolfspider she had fallen for.

Engaging her cloaking device the girl slipped silently away. She headed towards the set for “Street Talk” a day time talk show. It was the star of this show she had come to see.

The lock on the dressing room door was digital and rather easy to break the coding of the girl opened the door and entered.

A woman middle aged but traces of plastic surgery made her look much younger, she was dark skinned with raven black hair.

The girl turned off her cloaking device and waited, she could take the perfect shot right now but a certain wicked taste for humour made her wait.

The woman turned humming to herself then gave a jump and a little squeal of fright when she saw the girl.

“Oh Hell child. You scared the life outah me!” she spoke with a thick Caribbean accent

A small smile played over the child’s face at the reaction, she raised her hand and shot the woman with a tranquiliser dart. Picking up the collapsed woman she lifted her with ease and re-engaged her cloaking device.

Rogue Islands: Location Undisclosed

The woman groaned and slowly woke up her arms hurt, and her side hurt , groggily looking round she took stock of her knew place.

The first thing she realised was that her arms were pinned behind her held by something, straining her neck to look round she could see they were pinned in some sort of bronze device. Another device or perhaps the same one had her pinned from the waste down within it.

She screamed and struggled to break free.

“Good Evening Target Mary Kelly. This Unit Sees You Have finally Awoken” a voice spoke looking round Mary saw a figure though she couldn’t make out all the details it appeared to be a little girl.

“Child please let me go!” she pleaded

“This Unit Can Not Comply With Your Request. You Are Needed Here” the girl replied walking over to a large steam emitting device.

“Why!?” Mary demanded struggling to escape.

“This Unit Is Aware Of How You Get Reactions From Your Guests Target Mary Kelly” the girl turned several valves on the device.

“You Are A Mutant. A Minor Telepath, You Frame Your Words Based On The Feelings Of Your Guests To Lead Them To The Desired Reaction. That Power Is Needed” The girls said not looking at Mary eyes focused on the task at hand.

“Needed for what?” Mary asked

“The Device You Are Now Part Of Is Called The Hate Engine. Others Like You Will Soon Join You In It.” The girl said walking to a different machine

“And?” Mary pressed

“Then This Unit Will Torture You All To Death. Your Hate, Your Pain, Your Despair. The Engine Will Capture And Transmit This Globally. It Will Seep Into The Subconscious Of Mankind. Panic And Fear Will Lead To Chaos And Destruction. That Is Our Desired Goal” Mary heard the girls words and began to wail

Dammit Hates get a better ISP!

Also do you still play that ExTeel you were telling me about?

//
And thats that for now.

Just a little story I wrote to explain some changes in a couple of my RP characters.

Should be more later when they next have an encounter.

Critque and constructive comments welcomed.

Paragon City:- Independence Port.

It was the ease that sacred her. How simple it had been to abandon her humanity and become one with the machine to give up emotions, to see the world only in objects and numbers.

But it had provided her with an answer as to where the machine would strike next.

Independence Studios, a small public access TV station little more than a broadcasting rig and a couple of sets shared by the various TV programs that aired on the station.

It was however guarded, so from shadow to shadow the girl crept, her vision constantly changing spectrums, infrared, ultraviolet even a form of sonar. With inhuman speed and agility she would rush on silent footsteps from cover to cover avoiding both the security systems and baton armed guards.

The machine suggested she incapacitate the guards and provided a list of various tactics and plans to do so. She reached into the pockets of her jeans and took out a handful of white pills, swallowing them the machines suggestions got quieter and eventually faded.

Having spent the journey to the studios studying the buildings plan she knew the perfect place to gain access. The air conditioning for the broadcast building was large, not large enough for a man to crawl through but she was much smaller than a man despite some of her augmentations. A few seconds with a screw driver removed the covering of the grating giving her access. The duct was filthy covered in dust and a few feet beyond the opening became pitch black. Her augmentation switched to blind sight mode, emitting a bat like sound beyond the hearing of most people in the city. The machine capable of tracking a grain of sand in a desert storm calculated the lay out of the ducts and compared them to the building plan, she crawled forward silent apart from a low barely audible whine of turning gears.


Off The Coast Independence Port

The girl stood silent and armoured as she tested her weapons function ability. Under the rolling waves above she rode in a submarine moving through the pitch black ocean. The crew were under the employ of a man who owed her many favours. You could tell who the newer members of the crew were by how they regarded the girl. Those who saw her with amusement, as a child playing dress up, were the ones who had recently joined. Those who had transported her before viewed her with respect and in some cases fear. They had seen the devastation she wrought.

The girl looked up her skull like helmet tracing the captain path before he was visible.

“Excuse me err Miss we are docking if you would head to the breech door and make ready” the captain announced.
The girl walked on her heavy armour striking the floor with a loud clang with each footstep.
Before entering the breech doors she paused and turned to the captain.

“This Unit Requests Standard Retrieval Protocols” her voice was distorted by the armour it came out cold, inhuman, mechanical.

“Aye! Miss.” The captain paused “Good luck”

“The Strong Have No Need For Luck.” She said as the door closed behind her.

Built into the armour was a stealth device, functioning much like her weaponry it created a field around her accelerating the light around her causing her to become almost invisible, not truly indivisible for she still cast a shadow on the floor. The breech door opened to the outside world and her sensors were flooded with information, the crew of the submarine were unloading various drugs and weaponry, the official reason for this trip was transportation of family goods from the Rogue Islands to the Paragon City branches.

Powerful fields built around her legs greatly increasing the amount of lift provide when she jumped. Augmentations planned out the leap and the following ones, GPS showed her the way to go.

Her master had ordered her to spread the word of the groups creed to the world. She had done half of that with a broadcast to the Rogue Islands, but the strong in Paragon city still needed to be informed.

Various plans had been formed and scrapped in periods measured in picoseconds before one had been decided on.

Independence Studios filled all the necessary criteria, it was close, unguarded and with some minor tweaks would be able to provide a global broadcast.

In a matter of minutes she arrived outside the studio, still cloaked she cut the phone lines and drove a heavy metal spike into the concrete floor cutting other connection to the building.

Security systems and guards fell alike a blast of flame hitting them burning and smashing at the same time.

Everything was running to plan as with a single backhanded blow she removed the door to the broadcasting equipment from its frame.

Sensors picked up the sound of a falling grill and she spun just in time to block the slash of a glowing blade, despite her armour a growing numbness emanated from where it had struck. A quick blast of return fire was blocked with a swirl of the blade the force though knocked her and the attacker away from each other.

Standing in front of her way a young girl clearly no older than ten or eleven her right arm and lower portion of legs had been replaced with mechanics. The replacements had continued on her face as well, her right eye was mechanical a mixture of bronze and a blue glowing sensor. Her jaw and neck bore signs of re-enforcement. Her face was masked and she was dressed in a mixture of homemade armour and spandex a burnt cape hung around her shoulders and her blond hair was dirty and uncared for.

Her sword glowed an aura of blue appeared to be its blade.

It was the nature and design of the attacker’s upgrades that identified her.

In a cold mechanical voice she greeted her attacked.

“This Unit Greets You Dear Elder Sister”


The Ducts

She was alerted to the arrival of the machine by the sounds echoing through the ducts. The sounds of explosions and screams had always been the announcement of their arrival.
She’d been waiting in the duct several hours now, but had decided that it would be better to lay in ambush rather than move around and risk discovery.

Being unregistered she wouldn’t be able to talk her way out of being discovered. The door exploded inwards below her and a figure she knew well walked in. Even dulled by the drugs an animalistic rage began to build up it ignored the differences that the machine in her pointed out.

Here it was Battle Unit Omega the machine that had kidnapped her, experimented on her, enslaved her and forced her to butcher people to fulfil its twisted ideals.

Rage built in her until she could no longer take it with her still human hand she punched the grill out of place and dived from duct swinging her sword in an arcing blow with all the force she could muster. The grill hit the floor before she did altering Omega causing it to spin and block her blow.

A burst of flame and something more shot from the its skull like head but she managed to swing the blade and block, but the force sent them flying apart.

The machine spoke and surprised her.

“This Unit Greets You Dear Elder Sister” it said.

Though dulled by the drugs surprised forced her to fully consider the machine in front of her, it lacked Battle Unit Omegas height being only slightly taller than her while the machine was a monstrous eight foot, it lacked also the cloud of steam that the machine emitted.

Warily she shifted her stance to prepare to attack or defend.

“Stop playing games Sigma Two Four Seven” she said

“This Unit Sees That You Operate In Ignorance Dear Sister Sarah” the machine replied it hands down by its waste seemingly at ease.

The mention of her real name set her off and she rushed forward swinging the sword almost faster than the human eye could follow, seemingly wild but each swing was a polished move part of pre-programmed strikes and combat routines.

The machine for its part was on the defensive despite the bulk of its form it dodged with elegant grace, seeming to flow away from the sword. Suddenly it counter attacked reached out and grabbed Sarah by her hair and throwing her with apparent ease away.

Sarah caught herself rather as she fell spraining her human hand but allowing her to use it to flip over and gain her feet.

“Why Such Violent Action Dear Sister Query?” the machine spoke

“You’re not my sister!” Sarah snarled preparing to attack again.

With a whirr the skull like head of the machine opened and folded away.

A girls face probably no older than herself regarded her, the same surgical scars that covered her own face stood visible on the girls dark skin. Silver hair was bundled up, obviously to stop in trapping in the helmets mechanisms. A few strands dangled down her face slightly covering a similar mechanical eye to her own.

“Dear Sister Did You Think Farther Would Abandon The Project After Your Failure Query?” the girl asked, free of the helmet her voice was normal though the tone and words were clipped and precise still like a machine.

“Father? That thing wasn’t my farther!” Sarah’s voice was calm its tone neutral the drugs she had taken prior to the mission still in her system.

“What Else Would You Call One Who Taught You Query? One Who Birthed Your New Form. Made You What You Are Today Query?” the girl said as she moved the hair away from her eyes and fastened it back

“It took me away, cut me to pieces and made me kill!. That’s not the actions of a father” Sarah said flexing her left hand, assessing how much damage the fall had inflicted, preparing to attack.

“Farther Made You Strong. The Fact You Still Live Despite Reports Of Your Destruction Is Evidence Of That” the girl said

A memory took over her mind, she felt once again the blade slip into her back severing her spine and cutting her heart. She saw once again the face of her killer, once an ally of Omega now driven to oppose the machine as its mad plans threatened even the other TLF members.

She felt and saw once again the kinder face was the man who brought her back and his reassurances that everything would be okay from now on.

Though the memory seemed to take hours to play out it had happened in less than a second.

“So does Sigma Two Four Seven still operate?” she asked

“Father Has Been Destroyed This Unit Now Inherits His Task” the girl said

“Then I will have to stop you” Sarah said rushing to attack

The girls helmet re-engaged and she raised one hand something flew from it and ignited causing a ball of fire to head towards Sarah. A slash of the sword sent the ball of flame towards the wall where it shattered sending sparks everywhere.

More flames followed Sarah rushed forward blocking some avoiding others but the girl also moved keeping her distance, along the corridor and out into the courtyard of the studios in a dance of fire and destruction.

A blast hit her dead on tossing her into the air, Sarah quickly undid her cape the heat from the blast causing it to balloon and twirl in the air. The girl focused fire on the cape as behind it thrusters in Sarah’s legs forced her rapidly to the floor, before the girl could retarget Sarah had reached her.

One hand grasped her throat the other drew back the blade for a final strike.

“It’s over.” Sarah said

“Negative Sister” the girl said

What Sarah had though to be nothing more than a breathing apparatus either side of the skull like helmet span. A stream of bullets hit her hand causing her to drop the blade.

The air seemed to shift between them to crackle with energy, Sarah’s augmentations informed her of the weapon the girl was using. A technology created by the Sul Darian early in the war, fields of accelerated energy when an object entered the field it would increase in its kinetic energy. The girl hadn’t been throwing fire but pellets like a shot gun that ignited due to friction.

And now she was staring into the barrel of two such guns. Knowing she couldn’t dodge at this range she acted in desperation and used her arm to block the flames.

Metal heated and melted, gears fused as the arm began to glow. Even with her augmentations blocking pain and the drugs doing the same she could feel the heat.

She lashed out with the arm hitting the girls helmet with it over the sensors, couplings gave way and the arm came off. Coolant fluid sprayed from the severed arm. Still acting on instinct she directed the liquid at her molten arm fusing it to the girls helmet.

“Sensor Compromised. Mission Can Not Be Completed In This State” the girls announced clawing at the hand trying to free it from her helmet.

Sarah detected the field again this time around the girls feet, she launched her self in a leap clearing the building as Sarah sank to her knees panting.

Looking around at bodies and devastation she swore next time she would stop this new threat.

She heard the wail of sirens and realised she had to be away from this place, picking up her discarded sword she headed to the sewers and towards home.

The Rogue Islands

The girl stood watching as her machines rebuilt her armours helmet. She had failed her mission and knew there would be consequences.

A brief smile touched her lips, but what was a little physical discomfort compared to discovering that her Fathers designs could survive even death?

Paragon City.

Sarah winced slightly as she removed the remains of her old arm, for a few seconds she could still ‘feel’ with it.

Her new arm was a skeletal mix of various jerry rigged parts, a bit of Crey, a bit of Freakshow whatever she had managed to scrounge up.

It would do until she could gather enough resources to rebuild it properly.

She turned and flexed her new arm, watching the screen for a new mission.

Paragorn City

A child sat in a dark cold room in the illumination provided by an old halogen screen She might have been called pretty once, might still be called so by some one who ignored the scars the covered her body. She sat crossed legged on the cold concrete concentrating on the screen in front of her, in her left hand she held a bowl of sugar encrusted cereal, the only sounds in the room was a rapid click coming from the screen and the whirr that issued from her right arm as she raised a spoon to her mouth and ate.

The right arm was a miracle in bronze, it crude almost clumsy form was in stark contrast to the accuracy and wonder of how it operated.

The girl continued to swallow the cereal despite the makers claims she wasn’t experiencing a taste sensation, this early in the morning and without the aid of medication she didn’t experience the feel or taste of anything.

Images flick on the screen barely fully forming on the ageing hardware before being replaced by the next one, though the flash by with eye watering speed the girl simply watches. Her right eye appeared to be of the same manufacture as her arm

She uttered a cry a mixture of surprise and horror, the bowl and spoon falling discarded to the floor. The screen stopped flickering and focused, a figure short but heavily armoured stood in the ruins of a TV studio, slowly sound came from near the screen as speakers warmed up.

The figure spoke in a tone devoid of emotion yet filled with malice.

“Greeting Brothers And Sisters Of The Rogue Island. This Unit Comes To You With An Offer, Join Us In The Removal Of The Cancer That Blights Mankind. The Cancer Of Society. The Strong Should Do As They Will, The Weak Must Submit. That Is The True Destiny Of Mankind!”

Silently a figure rose behind the armoured speaker, a bloody battered but determined man in the armour of an Arachnos Wolfspider. With a low grunt he swung his mace at the speaker. With lightning speed the speaker pointed a finger over its shoulder and a ball of fire hit the Wolfspider sending him to the floor.

The figure continued to speak its attention had never left the camera, as it spoke the groans of pain from the Wolfspider added a weird sense of percussion to the figures world.

“This Unit Stands Before You As A Messenger. Veritas Liberabit Vos”

The figure turned and left the studio. Quickly the feed was cut and the symbol of Arachnos filled the screen as the voice of a Fortuna ordered people to forget what had just happened.

The girl stood rocking on the balls of her feet emotions beginning to boil in her brain.
“It can’t be. They told me it was destroyed.” She muttered her voice devoid of emotion.

A voice in her head informed her of various possibilities how it could of survived.

She needed to know for sure.

Suppressing her humanity she became like a machine.

The Rogue Islands

Jeff Jefferson was not having a good day, though joining Arachnos had at the time seemed to be the only way out his dead end job in his dead end life, life hadn’t been as good as the recruiters made out.

He’d left his job as security guard at a TV station only to rise through the ranks of Arachnos to Wolfspider, his current assignment? Standing guard over a TV station to make sure no dissidents could access it. Seriously it was enough to make him scream.

Movement brought him out of his thoughts, a small girl with dark skin and long silvery hair was walking towards him. As she drew closer he could make out dozens of tiny straight scars that covered her face. Her right eye had been replaced with a mechanical one and it glowed a dull red in the morning light. With her arms behind her back she skipped towards him barefoot and humming a melody.

“Kid get out of here, this a restricted area” he said

The girl smiled causing light to flicker along some device that ran along the bottom of her face.

“Sir This Unit Requests That You Remove Yourself. You Are Currently An Obstruction And Obstruction Will Not Be Tolerated” the girl said her words clipped and voice light and cheerful.

Jeff laughed

“Kid did Bob put you up to this? Promise you some candy or something?” he smiled beneath his helmet and reached out to pat her head

He heard before he felt the bone in his arm snap, with beyond human speed the girl had grabbed his arm with her right hand. A large mechanical gauntlet had grasped his arm.

No, he realized, with shock as his gaze ran up her arm, it’s not a glove it’s her arm!

With the sound of rapidly turning gears and the clicks of things fitting into place, armour flowed from the machine arm to cover the girl in bronze heavy pieces. Her head was hidden inside a large skull like helmet.

He recognized that, the armour and helmet belonged to a member of a terrorist faction, he was face to face with Battle Unit Omega.

He tried for a wry grin and insult something along the lines of

“I thought you’d be taller” but was silenced as a fist hit him in the jaw.

As he fell unconsciousness claiming him he thought he heard lifeless mechanical voice say

“Obstruction Removed. Proceeding To Communication Array”

Large section of the building 'atomised"?

"Hereafter"?

To what dimension/future has Britanic been thrown to?

Perhaps the universe where evryone is the opposite sex/moral mindset?

Suggestion reclusive billionaire who funds the group as part of his public charitable acts.

In actuality the whole stunt serves him two fold it makes him seem like a good guy, and hes running a simulation to help him conquer the Earth.

Could do a whole 'Good Lord billionair playboy Tony Smirk is actually Iron claw leader of the villian group Basilisk!" storyline later on when you've got an active membership and everything.

Leads to all sorts of character conflict do they part ways, team against Iron Claw, join him, etc

Yeah the time period made for some good books and games.

Just on a side note, didn't Dian Wei stabbed to death allowing his lord to escape a burning castle?

Also he wasn't a samurai, being Chinese and everything.

Gffffffaaarble.

Looks intresting will look it over when I'm not tired and hung over.

Christianity exist in Paragorn city.

http://coh.redtomax.com/contacts/contact.php?id=123

And as Supervillians you should be able to create a situation to take over rather than just rely on one.

Also beliveable situations don't need to be based on real life other wise you end up with the [censored] Marvel pulled with 9/11


Method: Replacement/ Brainwashing

Event: General <insert name here> is the tyrannical ruler of <insert country name> hated by his people he is constantly wary of an uprising and takes great pains to keep himself secure.
Like this trip to a neighbouring country, his private plane surrounded by elite fighter jets from his air force is set to land in several days. However you know for a fact that this is just another diversion, the General is actually travelling in a different jet guarded only by a few of his bodyguards, grabbing hold of a powerful telepath/robotic double/enslaved shape shifting demon you head to intercept his jet.
One way or another, the General will be giving your orders from now on.

Event: In the democracy/tyranny that governs <insert country name here> Prime Minister/King <Insert name here> has sole choice over his government. Knowing that he is heading back to start the new government year, you decided to ‘influence’ who gets selected to be the new government

Event: The nation of <insert name here> has fallen apart in the past during times when the government were killed off. To prevent this from happening in the future they have a strict hierarchy of who takes over if some one is incapacitated. While it would be troublesome to replace the higher ups of government, those lower down the ranks would be much easier, and well if enough people higher up than them die they will be in charge any way and you’ve always said Guy Fawkes had style.


Method: Election

Event: After centuries of being a monarchy/dictatorship the country of <insert name> has finally embraced democracy. This being their first election they are woefully under prepared for events that have been seen in other more developed countries. Deciding to simply buy the winner you embark on subverting the candidates offering the wealth, women, drugs and other pleasures satisfied, after all everyone has their price. Whoever wins, it doesn’t matter it will be your puppet in the seat of power.

Event: As above however one particular candidate catches your intrest before your approach them all, perhaps he reminds you of yourself at a younger age, perhaps its how readily he responds to your offers. You decide to fix the election in this candidates favour, you arrange the best campaign money can buy, complete with telepathic campaign managers and mind controlling TV adverts. Eventually your puppet is elected and it all seems so nice and legal.


Method: Civil War

Event: The kingdom of <insert name here> is in a dire state, shortly after the Rikti War the King of <insert name here> <insert name here> the <insert number> was approached by Crey industries and a deal was made. Crey were given exclusive business rights in the country, in exchange the King got super weapons and soldiers for his armed forces. While the King was happy his people however suffered, working for Crey what little they earn has to be spent in Crey owned shops on Crey grown food, the people live just above the poverty line.
The unhappy people have started to form rebel bands, woefully under matched compared to the Crey supplied royal military. That is until you step in providing weapons and super soldiers, however in the anarchy that follows you defeat both the government and the rebels. Soon the people will see life under Crey wasn’t so bad.

Event: The country of <insert name here> has always been tribal in nature, for centuries the four feuding tribes have been increasingly violent towards each other, with increasing terrorist activities towards each other. The violence kept increasing until it seemed that a full blown war would break out, and perhaps it would of if not for the Rikti, as the violence reached its peak the country was devastated by Rikti bombings, the four tribes joined together out of fear and desperation. Even after the Rikti retreated the tribes stayed in union due to fear of another attack. This fear born union has continued to this day. Well up until yesterday when your assassins struck killing respected members of each tribe and sending the country into civil war. As the they fight they are unaware of a fifth force within their country, as you wait for them to tire weaken themselves enough for you to decisively take over. Finally as the four forces get ready to fight suddenly to my surprise.
He did the mash
He did the monster mash
The monster mash
It was a graveyard smash
He did the mash
It caught on in a flash
He did the mash
He did the monster mash


From my laboratory in the castle east
To the master bedroom where the vampires feast
The ghouls all came from their humble abodes
To get a jolt from my electrodes


They did the mash
They did the monster mash
The monster mash
It was a graveyard smash
They did the mash
It caught on in a flash
They did the mash
They did the monster mash

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Hell if Lex Luthor despite trying to kill the worlds most loved hero several thousand times can use his intelligence to be elected president of the USA, then I'm sure you'd be able to come up with something more than, robbing a house while the owners away on a global scale.

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I think we simply have radically different ideas of 'realism' and believability.

Obviously so if you are a superman fan, with superman being the most loathesome, boring and stupidly unbelievable and inconsistent super-hero of them all.

You apparently believe that smart people don't aim for efficiency. That the brilliant man doesn't work out who to achieve his aims with the least effort and risk, but instead invites failure by constantly reinventing the wheel and seeking the most expensive and wasteful ways to attain his aims.

I don't.

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Hell create a situation, start up hostilities, preform a terroist action and leave clue pointing to a different country. Kidnap the ruler of a country brainwash him, repalce him with a clone and have him bring you in as his new goverment. Hell do the same to all the people in power within the country.

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Brainwashing and clones huh? Never heard that before. I can see where your brilliance and originality lets you see my ideas as rather uninspired. Clones eh? My, that's stunningly original and unique.

Do you use a diferent version of the word 'uninspired' to mine? I ask because you seem to want us to do the same plots that already exist in game.

Raise an army of robots (Nemesis and the Council), replace people with duplicates under our control (Nemesis and Crey), or perform terrorist actions (every villain group, all three Terra Volta missions, every stop the bombs mission, etc) are all unoriginal.

Does your vesion of uninspired mean "something not directly inspired by or copying an existing idea"? My version means "lacking in inspiration, plaguarized, hackneyed, predictable"

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But relying on 'bleed in' from real world situations is lame.

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or ruthlessly efficient and realistic.

Sometimes its a fine line.

Personally, I want their plan to be chillingly believable, so that players can far more radily immerse themselves in the plot, from both sides. But I'm just one of the LORDs players, and we'll reach a collective balance that we're all happy with playing out.

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1st problem= Several of the big seven have been around for thousands of years they could quite easily of taken over the Earth from the shadows through money alone. Though why they in character didn't would be fun to see.

2nd problem= As I just posted real world situations just don't work in CoXs world.

Take all the religious problems we have in the middle east, people waring over differences in holy script, in the CoX universe they could literally just ask their God to clarify it a bit.

Problems with Iran pursuing nucleur weapons? One guy made a hat that let him alter reality with a thought, nucleur weapons are nothing, particularly as the US accidently lost a load of them in Warburg.

So yes using real world events despite them not working in CoXs universe is uninspired.

At least the 'hokey' comic book plots of in game villian groups actualy show them to be what a villian should be, pro-active.

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But relying on 'bleed in' from real world situations is lame.

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In your opinion.

Not using the resources and situations available for any self respecting villain (or hero, businessman, politician, heck anybody at all) is just foolish and negligent. Granted, it's important that there be more creativity present than "Burma has a lot of problems and political unrest, so the LoRD's just slide right in." But first off, having read the forum RP these guys produced and secondly having spoken to most of them at some time or another I have faith that they'll cook up something suitable.

If they ignore real world situations all together thenit could be argued that they're narrowed their scope onto the successful countries of the Western world which is, obviously, not *world* domination. If they're planning to take over the world, they're going to go after the unstable countries sooner or later. And it makes sense for those to be the countries they target first.

Some people may not be comfortable with real suffering being exploited for the sake of literature or roleplay, that the fictional people of a real country be harmed in some way. But if that's the case, then you need to stop watching action movies, reading the majority of comics and a hell of a lot of good books.

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I'm saying that using real world situations for a fictional enviroment is lame.

For example take the middle east, most trouble there is based on religion in CoX gods and demons actually exist and take a hand in real life. So the situation there would be different (Statesman and Recluses origins, The Mu, Circle of Thorns)

The real world mounting tension over Nucleur weapons, Iran and North Korea? Not an issue after all any nutbag can create devices that threaten the multiverse (Faultline zone story line, Warburg)

War over resources? Its not like they could get these resources from a parell world or anything oh wait! They can. (Anything Portal Corp related)

So were basically left with Communism vs Commercialism as a founding for real life situations becoming ingame, and the chances of one those countryies being taken over without notice are low to none existent.

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I think that this discussion is all-in-all a good thing. Not merely specifically for finding the boundaries and game-realities we may need to use in the plot for LORDs, but for getting an idea of general feeling and concensus, and maybe hammering out some shared reality without which all plots become fundamentally flawed.

So yes, this discussion is a lot wider than just the current LORDs plot, and thus not every point I want to discuss or consider is directly related to LORDs alone.

I do favour a more realistic and believable gameworld than many. Some parts of the official game cannon make me cringe at how poorly thought out they are in real detail. If I were writing the game world from scratch then I'd be largely in agreement with CactusBrawler that the presence of super-heroes, super-natural entities, gods, magic, etc, for 80 years, should have had a major effect on the world around them, and radically altered the course of history.

The fact is that if this were a game world I was creating, I'd insist on a lot more detail and guidance regarding the state of the world. But the equally inescapable fact is that we didn't write this world. Instead there is a rather lazy and minimal game cannon that mirrors our own world except for a few sketchy details that don't even mesh together very well.

Somehow we all have to find just enough detail to tell a story that fits with our shared perception of reality. Because if we don't try to fundamentally affect the universe through RP (and yes of course there are game-world limits to that) then we are left without super-villains, left with nothing more than bank robbers with super-powers and no vision.

If you want villains that change nothing, and don't upset the status quo, then stick with missions and avoid RP. Because an RP villain is by nature never going to honour rules and limitations. The RP villain character needs to be rooted in some form of reality enough that he can live and breathe and run rampage through our imagination. He must present unthinkable threat and malice, because otherwise where is the thrill and exhilaration of foiling his plans?

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However the LoRD are ment to be more than simple opertunists. To take over a fictional country that just happens to be a bit like a real one down to its geography and political state. Well first of all its in bad taste, second it uninspired and third its not the kind of thing Supervillian of the LoRDs calibur should be doing.

Taking advantage of a pre-existing situation to take over a country? Its little more than a crime of opertunity, picking up and keeping some ones wallet when they've dropped it, only on a grander scale.

Hell if Lex Luthor despite trying to kill the worlds most loved hero several thousand times can use his intelligence to be elected president of the USA, then I'm sure you'd be able to come up with something more than, robbing a house while the owners away on a global scale.

Hell create a situation, start up hostilities, preform a terroist action and leave clue pointing to a different country. Kidnap the ruler of a country brainwash him, repalce him with a clone and have him bring you in as his new goverment. Hell do the same to all the people in power within the country.

But relying on 'bleed in' from real world situations is lame.

Basically from the second page of this thread where Amoon says that fictional places should be set close to real world trouble hot spots, so that you can leach off of real world situations to help the plot.

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Incidentally, while Game cannon specifically mentioned the ending of the cold war, you somehow think that the sudden outbreak of world peace, international cooperation, and a global cessation of hostilities was just ommitted?

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Well since the time lines ends with a paragraph saying that since so many of the police, heroes and armed forces of the world died Supervillians started to flourish you'd think they would have toher things on their mind than waging war on each other.

Now while I have no problem with the idea of you taking over a country, its the whole by exploiting political unrest in the area.

The LoRDs are ment to be the cream of Supervillianry but you are acting like 12 year old thugs waiting until the shop keeper isn't looking so you can run off with a pack of sweets.

You should be able to engineer everything, start the unrest, take over and gain control without any one suspecting you.

That and taking a real world situation and just putting different names on it is a bit uninspired to say the least.