ChaosRed

To be honest, I don't really pay attention to how much XP an AE mission that we designed for role play purposes is giving out. So I can't really answer the question directly.

I can say, we love the tool and use it every weekend to advance our stories.

We see it as a story device, not an XP device. I think the problem with some of the reaction, is people still play these games like Pacman. They equate XP to "points", and believe the game is fundamentally driven through the acquisition of these points. Old paper gamers, usually learned long ago that RP games are often much more liberating and interesting when you focus on story rather than acquisition

Paper games, for decades, have gamed in systems that allowed you to have as little - or as much - XP as you wanted, right at the start and at your GM's whim. As a GM, in games such as this, I could make you all level 50 - *to start*, and give you your heart's desire in terms of items, if I chose to. So XP was always abstract and meaningless, it was just a throttle, something that decided how much power would be exhibited in the adventure.

Early video games, could never adopt this. Mostly because, in the day, they were designed to compel you to drop another quarter in the machine. Games don't need to work that way anymore, but in many ways video games haven't advanced much beyond that thinking.

I look at Dragon Age: Origins for example and I sigh with a heavy heart. How utterly banal and flat the character designer is! We simply, refuse to let players take legitimate control over design! Instead, we spoon-feed them a template and then pretend they have control by letting them adjust the size of their cheek bones. It's fascist, archaic thinking. The old lie that the mother-ship knows best. I believe, games a decade from now, will laugh at how provincial that kind of thinking is. Just like we laugh at Crusaders of the Dark Savant (albeit with some retro-affection).

What I love about what COH did, is they put legitimate power in the hands of their player. Not fake-power, (like XP), but actual power to design/craft their own adventures to extend and augment a virtual world on their own. It was evident from day 1 with how liberal the choices were in their character generator, which was (in my view) a quantum leap in how a character can be designed.

As for AE, sure, the capabilities are crude and limited, but it is a decent start - and in my view - it is indicative of the kind of gaming that will be embraced in the next generation. Games that provide customization, personalization and environment design - will slowly become the norm, and these three qualities will be judged as being just as important as the power-curve and "skill" level of the game.

I look at Gabe from "Penny-Arcade". Here we have a power-gamer (both in fiction and RL), who largely scoffed the idea of RP and game mastering. Suddenly, after he is given some basic tools to GM what he's always envisioned, he can't stop blogging about it. If we can reach this level of convenience in a video-game, I believe that game will explode - in a way that will make Blizzard's success seem paltry in comparison. Our gaming, is much more closely tied to the ancient practice of telling stories around a fire than we realize, even the more ardent/jaded power-gamer is really, at some level, just an extension of that old tradition.

I have beefs with the AE tool. I find the text editor is clumsy. I find the inability to build your own maps, frustrating. I most especially find it annoying that I can't place objects/mobs at specific places, and that what is considered "front" and "middle" on some of the maps are completely backwards. I'd love it if super-bases had a console that acted like an AE work station and one of those "beams" that take you into your mission, which would greatly improve immersion.

All these things, will come in time. Not to COH maybe, but eventually GM tools will become mainstream in video games. Spore made some noble attempts at this (but ironically provided too little mechanics for the intricate designs to do). Sims also does some good GM work - and we've seen in both cases that gaming communities will take the little pieces you give them and make wondrous creations from them. Heck, even COH's super-bases yield fantastic designs and spaces; that are often better than the actual maps the game designers provide.

I can make a lot of fun, from what AE already provides. It's not the kind of fun that will would appeal to thousands of gamers. I don't want it to be, only because there's already so much generic content out there, so why create more? I want to create the kind of fun that has meaning to me and my small group of players. We take turns writing stories, sometimes creating a cliff-hanger and then letting another player resolve it in the next episode.

It's wonderful stuff. I don't think we praise AE enough. It can make weekend-RP for us, "come alive". Sure it is crude at times, but it works - and it can make each mission seem like a genuine issue from a comic.

So to summarize: problems? No. None. But then, I don't really give a rat about XP when I use the tool. Do I have a strong desire to see the tool provide even more function? Yes! Yes! In fact, I'd pay more per-month just for the privilege.

Doctor Zar (who sets tonight's mini-adventure in motion) has been updated for the amusement of myself and anyone else who cares to take a gander.

Rikti versus sentient genius apes from another dimension. Yes, I am, in fact, just that cheesy.

Doctor Zar (VV Page)

Energy blaster would be great! We could probably use the ranged DPS. We're usually controller-heavy, it would be great to see you.

A solid scrapper with good survival skills probably would help!

I should mention, the mission is open to heroes only, and although all levels are welcome, most of us will be in the 20-something range. We have four open spots right now, and although the first mission takes place in the Rikti War Zone - this will be accessed through AE - not through the actual war zone in the game, so as to not interfere with the other circumstances/play of that zone.

Our little RP group will be role playing the start of a new story-arc this Friday at 7:30PM Pacific (10:30 Eastern). This arc will entail two missions for now, but will probably expand and develop more in the months ahead.

The purpose of this "mini-arc" is to establish an alternate Earth, with a different time line and history, one that is involved in a major war. This particular "alternate Earth" is a direct homage to "Planet of the Apes", only like the original book, the Apes are scientifically advanced. The additional spin on the premise this time, is this "scientifically advanced" Simian race has fallen victim to a Rikti invasion.

If you find yourself on Friday wanting to have some fun RP, in a campy AE mission involving Rikti, cavemen and highly-sentient apes (and who wouldn't), please join us.

We have four confirmed for this mini-event - but would happily accommodate another four. You don't have to be part of our SG to join, you just have to have a campy spirit, and a willingness to kick the Ritki in the behind.

Add @Ravyna to your global for more details, or PM me here. Or if you see me online on Friday, shoot me a tell.

The events of this small AE mission (should take about 90 minutes to complete), will become the latest "issue" of our SG's comic book.

More details on the event and story here:

The Saga of Doctor Zar - Part 1

More information on Alpha Squad is here.



Even if you can't join us, we hope your weekend RP is filled with great adventure.

Redemption Song - Chapter 8 - A Battle

Chaos Red held his arms out forward then flexed his muscles and twisted his wrists. This was the exact muscle contortion that activated the cells embedded inside his living tattoos. The tattoos were painted all over his arms with a special ink he had stolen from an advanced arcane culture. As a result of his flexing, his body began to generate massive amounts of bio-electric energy.

He would then use this energy as a weapon, and he had every intention of using it against Mars Five. It would teach that smug alien a lesson! If Mars was badly hurt, he was confident the medical staff here at Cobiness could patch him back up. He could then gloat by sending Mars Five a “Get Well” card. He grinned at that last thought.

Red was surprised how well the new thermal-armor he was wearing interacted with his electrical powers. It was almost as if they were modified to work with his bizarre tattoos. The more he thought about it, the more he realized they probably were. Mars Five probably designed and built them in the few hours Red spent staring at the floor counting the rubber circles.

Red surged as his powers booted up and when they reached the apex, he shot a large concentrated arc of crimson-colored lightning towards Mars Five. His accuracy was outstanding. Indeed the suit seemed to improve on that front too.

However, to Red’s amazement Mars Five floated above the arc of lightning as casually as one might avoid a pedestrian walking on a sidewalk. He seemed to simply wait until the very last instant and then floated above the electrical arc with blinding speed.

Red shot another arc, but again, Mars Five moved away effortlessly and just floated at the other end of the training room, as if to mock him. On the third shot Red tried to anticipate the dodge and fired the arc slightly above his head, but this time Mars Five didn’t dodge. It was if Mars knew where he was going to fire!

Then, as Red made this realization, Mars seemed to disappear entirely. Within a brief moment however, he reappeared, only this time just a few feet from Chaos Red. Mars Five then lifted his wrist casually, as if lifting a paper clip from a desk and then smiled. Chaos Red seemed confused by both the smile and the suddenness at which Mars could appear and reappear at whim. Then he felt his feet getting heavy as if he was being dipped into concrete. Then suddenly his legs went stiff as a tree, and then suddenly he could barely breathe.

Chaos Red was trapped inside some kind of massive gem. The crystal had grown from underneath his feet, and wrapped itself around his legs, stomach and arms - paralyzing him. Where had the giant gem come from? Red had no idea, but assumed Mars Five had something to do with it. There was nothing he could do though, he was stuck inside a crystal vault, barely able to breathe, let alone fight.

Mars watched for several minutes as Red attempted to get free and failed. From time to time Mars would flick his wrist, ensuring the crystal stayed strong. It was readily apparently Mars could keep Red trapped like this all day long if he wanted to. To solidify this point, Mars floated over Chaos Red’s head and then bent down and plucked out a single strand of Red’s ridiculous Mohawk.

“A fine trophy, if I must say,” Mars Five boasted. “End simulation”.

With those words, the crystal disappeared, Red disappeared – and everything in the room except Chaos Red vanished.

A light appeared behind the one-way mirror at the top of the room. With the lights on, Chaos Red could finally see who had been watching him in the viewing lounge he had spotted early. There, in the lounge the whole time, was Mars Five. He offered only this as an explanation: “Red, if the monsters at the mountain peak eat you, what kind of ceremony would you like to commemorate your death?”

Chaos Red was humiliated beyond words.

I had some rubber-banding too, but it was spotty and it didn't really affect my gaming too much. *No* problems finding a team at all, which for the villain-side was really welcome.

I was saddened by the AE bug. But, I am such a fan of AE, than I can forgive the situation. I'll live with the glitch, because AE is a role player's dream. Still, at a time when it could have really showed off the new "toy" in the game, it was a shame AE was abandoned because it offered only half of the rewards the generic content provided.

I am not sure how successful the event was in winning gamers over to reactivate their accounts. I think, it was a noble attempt, but the "buy 6, get the 7th month free" is hardly a thrilling enticement to come back and pay-to-play. The competition is fierce for MMOs right now, so I think the game has its work cut out to keep the players it has, let alone find a way to grow.

I know it is a point of contention, but to truly win old players back, I think you have to finally adjust the level-cap. This will cause some consternation, but it seems the most reliable way of bringing old accounts back. It has worked for several MMOs in the past.

Also, I was stunned they didn't provide free costume tokens for all. I imagine, many people returned to check out the new color schemes, only to see they lacked the influence to actually use the new feature. It's pretty expensive if your character is a decent level, but hasn't been actively played since inventions changed the economy/enhancement game. Perhaps I missed something? Did they give old accounts a chance to change their colors without the prohibitive cost? I hope so because it is a nice feature to show-off when old players return.

I have to say though, it was a really fun weekend. No major lag, and it was very easy to find teams and advance characters. I had a ball playing this weekend and finally got my first character to level 50.

This is a great game. A great game, that is showing its age a little to be sure, but still a great game. I hope it did convince some gamers to come back and give it another go. It deserves some good news, and some additional success. Clearly the Devs have worked hard on some great new features - and it would be nice if they were rewarded with some additional revenue for their hard work.

Redemption Song - Chapter 7 - A Challenge

In anticipation of having to go out into the Arctic Tundra to repair an antenna, Chaos Red was trying to “squeeze” himself into some high-tech thermal armor. “Squeeze” because most of the armor was designed to accommodate those with a slightly less cumbersome frame. Red was a big man. He was broad across the shoulders and built like a lumberjack. It took some adjustments, but they eventually modified a suit to fit.

The damn suits were hot, and Red complained bitterly about it. They were “supposed” to be warm of course, and the heat he was complaining about would be welcome relief once he hit the high peaks of the Arctic Circle. Still, Red complained enough that he convinced the support staff to let him go out to the surface without a helmet. So there was Red, wrapped in neck-to-toe in high-tech thermal armor with just a bare face and a big red Mohawk up top.

“I’d rather look cool and get frost bite - than look like a dork in this damn suit,” Red joked.

Mars Five sauntered in to review the armor fitting. Then he pulled up a digital dossier on Red, and reviewed the notes. “It says here you jury-rigged electrical powers by stealing the ink of the Tsoo. You apparently used the ink to create “living” tattoos that could fuse with the natural bio-energy of your metabolism. Is that true?”

“Yup, cool stuff huh?” Red beamed.

“On the contrary, it is both crude and dangerous to my eyes,” Mars snapped.

“Dangerous? My tattoos aren’t dangerous,” Red replied.

He was lying. Red’s bio-electrical tattoos frequently short-circuited. So badly in fact, that he had given himself shocks that made his heart stop. Luckily he was revived, but he nearly died each time this happened. Red’s technology was brilliant, but it was often hacked together hastily and dangerously. He often lacked control over his powers, hence the nickname, “Chaos Red”. Water was a major hazard for him. Even when he showered he could not touch metal surfaces. This might explain why Alpha Squad put him in a room with a rubber floor.

“Well, we’ll need to test to see if your suit will stabilize your powers somewhat,” Mars noted. “Let us test your abilities in the simulator shall we?”

“Simulator? Ain’t you got real stuff I could destroy to prove to my powers?” Red scoffed.

“Very well, perhaps a real opponent will suit you well, I have one in mind in fact,” came the reply.

“Oh yeah? Who?” Red asked.

“Me,” came the matter of fact response from Red Five. “Proceed to the Training Room immediately Chaos Red. I will meet you there,” and Mars allowed himself an impish grin. It was obvious the alien was going to enjoy this immensely.

Within minutes, Chaos Red was escorted to the training room. It was a vast room with padded walls that extended at least 60 feet above him. In the top corner of the room, was a viewing lounge, with a one-way mirror. The viewers in the lounge could see him, but he could not see them. On the floor were basic white cubes, made of wood and then painted. Each cube was a yard square, but they were placed on top of one another to form strange shapes and obstacles and these were scattered throughout the room. The floor itself was rubber and black, not unlike a gym mat. There were trapeze swings in random places – as well as some burn marks on the ceiling. There were also some hurdles, some holes in the ground – and some caltrops scattered here and there. The whole facility was a cross between a dojo and a track for the steeplechase.

Mars Five seemed to “appear” on the other end of the training room out of thin air. He was still wearing his coarse, formal robes, but he was now hovering in mid air with a very dangerous look in his eye.

“Training begins now,” Mars Five barked...

…and with that, the battle was on.

It was a good gaming weekend for me, with some great family news along the way.

It was the least amount of RP I had done in years. Even when I was in a PUG that was open to roleplaying - I pretty much stayed quiet. I just wanted to give RP a rest for the weekend and focus on growing some characters.

I made level 50. Then I made a VEAT and took him to 24. Then I reviewed all the options, and begrudgingly picked “crab”. I wouldn’t mind so much, except you have to wear the damn backpack at all times! I lack an additional slot right now, to make another character to represent him without the backpack, so now I am playing the crab legs as a physical extension of his body, which the more I thought about it - the more I began to like the idea. He will be the most evil character I’ve ever played. I think I discovered a real gem with this toon. So I logged him off to let him breathe, and I’ll have to get a VV page/concept and some more RP thoughts completed before I resume playing him.

Late last night, I tried – once again – to make a tank I like. The last one made it to level 25, before I decided he’s not much fun. This one, I hope, might stick. I need an uber-tank in my small RP circle badly. I only got him to 14, because the team availability for new toons late last night was pretty low – and because you can’t juice the difficulty to high at lower levels, it was pretty slow-going comparatively. So a long way away from uber, but I hope he sticks.

Anyway, it was fun to be a “power leveler” for a weekend. Now I am done with it. One thing I find about leveling fast - is there no story in between. Characters are created and driven to their peaks so fast - you don’t even realize who they are – or how they became to be.

It is time to slow it all down again and “live and breathe” with them again.

Time, once again, to embrace the carebear within.

Well silly old Dudley hit 50. There, he can buy all the copies of Sonic Boom he wants now.

The VEAT I started - is - well, he's an RP device mostly, but I want to get him to 24, so I have a lot of work to do.

As WG said:

\em plot

Redemption Song - Part 6 - Antenna

Red was bored out of his mind.

He had showered. Then, he showered again just because there was nothing else to do. He counted the grip-circles on his rubber floor, he tried to sleep, he tried to daydream. In the end, all he could do to keep himself sane was to mutter the song he devised in the helicopter, adding lyrics along the way

Wop-wop loser - what they gonna do?
Wop-wop loser – they gonna do you!

It wasn’t exactly Proust, but it amused Red. He began setting it to an old Sham 69 melody, changing it just enough to give it its own beat - the kind of plagiarism that has fueled punk rock for decades.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, (but was in fact just 3 hours), the door to his living quarters opened.

Standing before Red was a stunning creature of such Aryan beauty that it took several seconds for him to come out of deep subconscious thought; (which is a nice way of saying it took several seconds for him to stop leering at her).

Vor Bodil paid no attention to Red’s reaction. She was – like Mars Five – all business. Unlike Mars Five however, she was most assuredly human. She was the kind of woman that inspired cavemen to scratch drawings on walls. She was the kind of human that inspired novels, or encouraged artists to cut off their ear.

Vor stood a healthy six feet tall, in her late 30's now, but her body was as athletic and taut as an Olympic swimmer. Her hair was a striking natural shade of blonde, folded into braids and then tucked neatly into a small bun. She allowed the ends of the braid to dangle just above her neck and collarbone, (which were porcelain, smooth and radiant). Her eyes were the kind of blue that can sting a man’s heart and shame even the sky. Her breasts were round and taut, but were discretely tucked under a loose gown. Still, from the right angle their silhouette would dance briefly in front of your eyes, sending you into a dream.

She spoke abruptly, like a school teacher executing a spelling-bee. Her accent was heavily laden with a Norwegian accent, the kind of European overtone that could drive a man wild.

“You have been assigned to me,” Vor offered.

Red blinked, still unable to respond, and thinking thoughts better left undocumented.

“This means I am responsible for your success,” Vor continued. “Do you know what this means?”

Red offered dreamily, “No…”, then he blinked some more and let his shoulders sag.

Vor slapped Red hard, across the face. The kind of slap you give someone to wake them out of a bad dream.

“Pay attention scum! It means I have no intention of letting you fail! It means this mission will go by the book and exactly as I say. Do you understand that, Red Carter?” Vor’s voice was commanding and the slap left a mark across Red’s face. It hurt so much, that the fanboi daydream was snapped instantly.

“You will obey me! Heimdall has stated that failure in this mission will mean your immediate eviction. Unless you like wandering the Arctic wilderness in your juvenile leather jacket, you better listen,” Vor barked.

Suddenly, Red didn’t like Vor at all - and began to wonder what he saw in her in the first place. How dare she call his leather coat juvenile! It had the most wicked airbrush art of the Clash he’d ever seen! Then he remembered the song,

Wop-wop loser - what they gonna do?
Wop-wop loser – they gonna do you!

The lyrics were asinine, but within the melody was a promise he had made to himself: this time he’d prove to his father he was worth it. This time, his trust and belief in him was not in vain! It just pained Red that in order to prove this, he was apparently going to have to tolerate a Scandinavian witch from hell.

Vor and Red moved into a briefing room. It wasn’t particularly elaborate, just a stainless steel table, some office chairs and a few computer terminals on swivel stands. Red realized he was still on the “lowest security level” - because this looked like equipment even a small insurance company would have.

Vor instructed Red to sit down, and then she turned her computer terminal around so that Red could not see what she was typing. After a moment, she swiveled the terminal around again, so Red could see what she had brought up…

It was a photo of a small snowy mountain, a basic peak, one of probably dozens like it around this bleak Arctic wasteland of a nation.

Vor cleared her throat and began, “The Baffin Mountains are a mountain range running along the northeastern coast of Baffin Island and into Cobiness. The ice-capped mountains are some of the highest peaks of eastern North America, reaching a height of 1,525–2,146 meters above sea level. At the top of several peaks is a vital communications array that Cobiness uses for receiving reception of electronic media from other nations, including audio, video and low-level data transmissions. At the top of this particular peak, located at the northeastern tip of Cobiness, one of our antennae has failed. Your mission is to reach the top of the peak and repair it."

Red snickered, “My first assignment is to fix some old TV antenna? What’s the matter, can’t get ‘Leave it to Beaver’ on Nick-at-Night? Let me guess, you’re more of an Ingmar Bergman type, right?”

Vor would have none of Red’s banter. She waved her hand briefly, as if dismissing him utterly – and then proceeded, “I am providing a basic GPS unit you can wear on your wrist. Please don’t break it. They cost 27 American dollars to replace.”

Red leaned back, the insinuation that the GPS device was worth more than him was evident from her tone of voice.

“Follow the GPS, and fix the antenna,” Vor summarized. “You have three hours to complete this before we send back-up.”

“Back-up?” Red asked, confused. “This can’t be hard. Why would I need back-up?”

“Monsters,” Vor offered back, bemused and indifferent.

“Wait, did you say monsters?”

“Yes, monsters,” she replied without any hint of emotion. “Good luck with your task Chaos Red. A thermal-suit will be made available to you to protect you from the cold. Please wear it. You will need it.”

And with that she was gone.

Red allowed himself to admire her behind, as she walked away. Then with sudden realization he muttered out loud, “What the heck did she mean by monsters?”

Great to know there is a kindred spirit out there Manny. Good luck in your weekend quest!

Redemption Song - Part 5 - Particle Beams Are Nasty

Particle beams are nasty. They emit quantum particles at such velocity and force, that they literally break the atomic bonds in your body. Within a fraction of a second of being hit by one, you collapse into a pile of amorphous jelly and vaporous fume.

It was also apparently painless, but this fact did nothing to comfort Red Carter.

“Uh. Dad? A little help please?” was all Red could muster as the canons began to power up.

“Mars!” came a harsh shout from across the bare concrete room.

Mars snapped to attention, and the canons power-up sequences were held in suspension. “Yes?” Mars Five replied, apparently confused by the interruption.

North ran as quickly as he could across the room, while uttering, “That’s my son for God’s sake! Were you really going to pulverize him mere seconds after he arrived?”

“He was an unescorted visitor, carrying an unauthorized digital imaging device with viral software embedded inside its random access memory! It could have potentially downloaded vital information to our enemies and then attached itself to our computer systems. He had to be destroyed, article 117, stanzas A and B are very clear on this matter,” Mars Five replied, somewhat miffed he always had to remind humans of basic security protocol. Didn’t anyone read his security manuals?

“He was not unescorted, I brought him here,” North rebutted.

“You had left the room,” Mars stated matter-of-factly.

“But he’s my son! For God sake Mars!”

Mars Five blinked, as if this piece of information was clearly irrelevant to the conversation.

Seeing, that a plea would not work on the Xtiplik mind, North switched tactics, “I ask you to waive article 117, with the bypass procedure outlined in Appendix A, entitled “Executive Privilege Procedures,” North’s voice was remarkably calm.

“You’ll need to fill out a thorough report sir, the EPP process is very clear on this point,” Mars responded, somewhat miffed he had to bow to his own bureaucratic web.

“You’ll have it in triplicate Mars, now call off the canons!”

Mars, snapped the heel of his boots together, and the canons subsided back into their secret portals. The room once again appeared as nothing more than an empty concrete helicopter hangar.

North then looked at Red sternly, “Now son, care to explain why you brought a computer virus into my base?”

Red, still a little stunned by having stared blankly at his own imminent death, merely muttered, “It’s just a digital camera Dad, in my belt buckle. The 'virus' is just a simple script-bot that seeks unsecured wireless connections. I use it to jack onto the internet at gas stations and donut stores, I didn’t think…”

Doctor North sighed. His son was a genius. He had always known this. His aptitude with technical gadgets was wondrous. It was part of the reason he knew he had to gamble on the kid one more time. With a little luck and some careful guidance, the dumb lug with the bright red Mohawk could do wondrous things for Cobiness.

“I see,” North replied. “Mars inoculate the virus in the thing, and then let him have it back. He’s not leaving the lowest security level anyway.”

“But sir!” Mars Five protested.

“Just do it – and yes, I’ll fill out the paperwork. Red, get yourself a shower. I’ll have an Alpha Tech show you to your quarters. You’re going to have to earn your keep here son, this is no free ride. Mars Five, let’s talk privately about what I have in mind…”

Red nodded, but said nothing about the camera. He knew there was another secret about it, but he was too afraid about what might happen if he revealed it.

Within minutes an Alpha Tech droid was showing Red to his basic living quarters, which consisted of a small bed, a wooden shelf, a sink, a toilet and a shower stall with towels. It was cold in his room and there was no artwork on the walls or windows. The walls were a dull grey with strange bright red lines painted along the top as trim. The floor was covered by a small layer of black hard rubber, easy to clean and resistant to scuffs. The kind of floor you might find in a large kitchen at a hotel.

“Soylent Green is people,” Red Carter mumbled as he saw the room.

“I don’t understand sir,” came the reply of the Alpha Tech droid.

“Never mind,” Red responded. “I’ll take my shower now. Do I get privacy, or do you want to come into the shower with me, to make sure I clean all my stinky bits?”

“I have been given no indication that you lack the ability to exercise basic human hygiene sir, do you require assistance?” the droid responded, confused.

“I’ll be fine,” Red responded blankly.

When the droid left, Red allowed himself to flop onto his small bed. He recalled his father’s words, “You’re going to have to earn your keep her son.”

He knew what that meant. It meant action. It meant lethal danger.

Red Carter beamed at the very thought…

I'm a nerd, the worst kind of nerd, one who talks too much.

I've had an account since late 2004. Some of the characters I play, were made before inventions, back when beating up a big snow beast was the best way to farm XP.

I have woven hundreds of stories into this game, and met friends I treasure to this day.

Yet, in all this time - never, never, never have I reached level 50.

I think, I finally need to just ante-up and get there.

You see, I decided I need an Arachnos VEAT for a story line I'm working on. And apparently the only way to get one, is to make level 50.

So here I am trying to get there.

If you see @Ravyna online this weekend, or if you see the character named Demon Wing spamming for a PUG in Grandville, won't you please help this talkative carebear finally reach level 50?

I am harmless, and well behaved. I just need a gentle hand to guide me to the promised land. I'll even shut up, I promise...well at least I won't try to talk as much.

Redemption Song - Part 4 - A Security Check

Red and North exited the helicopter and found themselves in a drab and very chilly security bay. The walls and floor were unpainted concrete and the whine of the helicopter engines bounced off the walls to form an unpleasant cacophony. Standing before them, was a strange little alien named Mars Five, the creature that did not want Red Carter to be given security clearance.

Mars Five was an alien. Strangely, despite his name, he was not from Mars. He was actually the last known living remnant of an ancient and extinct race called the Xtiplik. How the creature got the name “Mars Five” is a story for another place and time.

Mars Five was probably the smartest creature Doctor North had ever met. His mental faculty was unmatched by any human, and he could process the most complicated calculus, in his head just as easily as you and I can order from a menu. He could write computer code flawlessly, often with an entire object model for a particular application already designed in his head within minutes. He built a 3-D interactive object modeler for this very purpose, and so when he coded, it looked like a bizarre blend of Tai Chi and video gaming.

Mars Five was also a total jerk.

Seemingly impatient to a fault, Mars Five simply did not care for etiquette. He regarded most pleasantries as an extension of weak human ego – and was at times, quite the snob. He stood a little-under five feet in height, a bi-pedal humanoid with bright mauve skin and impish ears that extended several inches above his elevated cranium. His teeth were sharp and unpleasantly yellow and he tended to talk with a sharp, nasal accent that was both slightly irritating and just off-key. He wore dark kimono robes woven with a thick, unnatural cloth. The robes were beautifully embroidered, but looked very uncomfortable, as gritty and as coarse as shafts of wheat. Yet, Mars Five displayed no discomfort from his attire.

Mars stared at Red Carter, like the petty, vagrant criminal that he was.

“I am Mars Five,” the purple alien uttered with a sneer.

“I know who you are dude,” Red responded.

“Silence visitor! We have a strict visitor’s protocol that you must observe at all times! I have prepared a 33-page document outlining the basic policy. Do you have some crude electronic device I can upload it to…or do you require it to be printed on the environmentally wasteful substance you Earthlings call paper?”

North placed himself in between Red and Mars and pushed them both back a step. “I’ll review the protocol with him Mars. Perform your security check on Red, while I change my clothes. I imagine there is plenty of work to do.”

Mars nodded. For all his faults, Mars followed orders well. He actually required psychological dampeners on his cortex, or his high intellect would cascade into dizzying bouts of manic behavior – which included talking too fast, and constantly proving his intellectual superiority. This was perfectly acceptable behavior for an Xtiplik, but the human psyche couldn’t adapt to it. So Doctor North built dampeners on Mars Five dopamine levels, to keep his ego at a level that human beings could just barely tolerate.

Mars Five pulled out a scanning device from a nearby computer console. Red meanwhile glanced around. He saw no other visible signs of security measures. If Red decided to rampage with his own super-scientific powers, he felt he could trash the place. Somehow however, Red figured, Mars could handle his own – and the base he was in was deceptive in its apparent vulnerability. If he knew Mars and North, this base was loaded with defense mechanisms.

The security device emitted a gentle warm beam of light – rather pleasant actually as it began to grace Red’s skin, like the warm sun peeping from behind a cloud. It was humming softly, transmitting data to Mars as he waved the scanner up and down Red’s body. Then it let out a sharp warble, and the light shut off.

Mars Five, examined the data, grinned impishly, and then said, “You have violated our security protocol with what you’ve brought with you Red. I am afraid I’m going to have to terminate you as a hostile invader,” and with that Mars Five pushed a button, and within a flash, Red Carter was staring at the barrel of seventeen particle beam canons.

Mars Five chuckled, “Any last words?”

Redemption Song - Part 3

Few people have ever seen Cobiness. Unfortunate perhaps, because when the Northern Lights dance across the sky – and the Milky Way can be seen as a silky luminous streak weaving magic from one side of the heaven’s to the other, it is a breath taking sight to be sure.

Cobiness was a nation founded on New Year’s day in 2009, after a violent and controversial revolution. It was situated north of the Arctic Circle, on a small inlet of Baffin Island. The entire nation was only 20 miles across. It was a seemingly insignificant rock, with only a few thousand native denizens.

However, shortly after it won its independence, this quickly changed. Mysteriously, high-grade uranium was found to be in abundance at the sight – and billions of dollars from mysterious sources were suddenly infused into the nation. Not long afterward, Cobiness announced it was launching its own satellite, and rumors that aliens from other worlds actively lived deep underneath the ice and tundra began to proliferate.

At the center of all this controversy was Red Carter’s adopted father: Doctor North, a man who helped engineer the revolution and now actively lobbies for the nation’s behalf.

Red Carter was in Cobiness for the first time ever. It was quite a privilege. The top-secret nature of this new nation made security clearance almost impossible and most nations would kill to get an idea of what was going on in there. In fact, it briefly cross Red’s mind how much money he could make on this trip if he activated the digital camera on his belt buckle.

Then he cursed himself for thinking the thought, “I gotta stop thinking like petty crook.” It wasn’t easy.

Red had spent most of his life scrounging a living from day to day. He’d been living in squats, here and there, since he was 12. Survival such as this, forced you to always think of every possible advantage, sometimes your next meal depended on it.

Doctor North and Chaos Red were sitting in a high-speed helicopter as it circled over the small nation. Below them stood mostly ice and open sea. In the distance, there was a landing pad, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The ship was piloted by a droid of some kind, decked out in shiny white metal and had a long blank mask that resembled that of a welder’s. It spoke in fluent English, with only a trace of the computerized synthesis that generated the voice.

“Landing pad approaching sir,” the droid offered.

“Good! Send the security clearance codes to Mars directly, and tell him to prepare the visitor level. Lowest possible security access please,” North replied.

The words, “lowest possible security access” stung Red a little. He shrugged it off. He knew it was an immense sign of trust just to be here.

Then suddenly, the droid piped in again. His voice rhythmic but with synthesized emotional urgency: “Sir, Mars Five is reporting a disagreement with your decision to bring you son to Alpha Base. He is refusing permission to land,”

“Tell him it’s an order,” North calmly replied.

Chaos Red allowed the palm of his hand to hide his eyes, in obvious embarrassment. Doctor North, noted scientist and father of a new nation was bringing his punk, criminal son home. Red couldn’t help but slump in his chair, and suddenly even the thumping rhythm of the helicopter’s blades seemed to mock him.”

“Wop, wop loser, Wop, wop, loser”

Red shook his head, trying to get the song out of his head. In the end, it would not die – and so he contrived a bar chord hook in his head to go with it. The mental exercise seemed to calm him.

Then, the helicopter finally landed, and with a flip of a switch, the landing pad began to descend like a freight elevator.

This was it. He was actually going inside one of the most exclusive and scientifically advanced locations on Earth; Red Carter, a man whose last meal was Kraft Dinner, (without milk to make the cheese sauce), was about to enter a trillion-dollar complex with some of the most secret weaponry known to man.

Red thought about that digital camera just one more time, before his newly created punk song came back into his head to reclaim his redemption…

Redemption Song - Part 2

Chaos Red grinned. He knew his father would cave. That’s because his father was the most decent creature he had ever met. More than anyone, Doctor North believed in Red, and nobody had ever done more for him, when he needed it most.

Only this time, Red wanted his father to be right about him. For the first time ever, in his miserable, destructive life, he wanted to prove North’s courage and convictions had been right the whole time. That he could, in fact, be redeemed.

“You look awful,” North offered, filling the ugly silence that had come over them both.

“I haven’t slept in days. I’ve been through a lot,” Red replied.

Red looked at his leather jacket, shirt and pants. He realized quickly what a wreck he truly was. It hadn’t been easy for Red to get to Doctor North’s living room sofa. In fact the journey had been both dangerous and emotionally devastating. Red had too much bravado to admit it, but he was devastated, raw. This desperate plea to his father was all he had left, and what a strange and bizarre father he was.

Doctor Heimdall North was a nobel-winning scientist. He was also one of the world’s most influential super heroes. He was not without controversy. He helped spearhead a native right’s movement in the Arctic Circle, that eventually spawned a revolution and a new fledgling nation. North had managed to assemble some of the galaxy’s mightiest heroes, shortly after the new nation’s independence had been declared. Many diplomats at the U.N. feared the nation was immensely powerful and dangerously out of control as a result.

North’s name was all over the papers from these recent events, and his own reputation was being tarnished by the mainstream press. North’s “nation of radical super heroes”, was a threat to the power-brokers of the status-quo. Western media can destroy even the greatest hero with but a few simple headlines, in fact they did so almost every day. All corporations protected their interests - and mass-media was just an extension of the corporate collective that ruled the Earth, or so Red had always believed.

Red Carter was not famous. He didn’t even have a high school diploma. His life had more than its fair share of bad luck and misfortune. Indeed, for most people, they would look at Red Carter and immediately size him up, as useless, vain and possibly dangerous. It didn’t help matters that Red’s appearance was so imposing. He stood several inches above six feet, with shoulders as broad and sturdy as an ape’s, and with the same poor posture. Red’s skin was pale white, unblemished and smooth and at the top of his head stood a ridiculous crimson Mohawk. The hair stood on its own end, defying gravity through the liberal application of skateboard glue to keep it straight and stiff.

It is safe to say the only decent thing that had ever happened to Red Carter was North.

It was Doctor North that fished him out of a wretched Freakshow gang in Founder’s Falls. It was North who gave him a shot at home schooling, and taught him physics, chemistry and demonstrated Red’s natural aptitude with science and math. He made Red Carter discover who he really was – and cursed Red Carter with a dream: that one day, he too, could be as heroic as the father that had adopted him.

Fathers can overshadow their sons, in ways that can haunt them forever. In Red’s case, Doctor North had saved the world from vicious terrorist plots – and won a Nobel Prize for his work on psychiatry along the way, now he was a forefather of a new independent nation. That’s a shadow, the size of a skyscraper, and it was a constant reminder of Red’s inadequacy.

“How did it come to this?” North asked, entering the room again. He was holding a hastily cobbled-together tray of snacks. (as if somehow food could ease the tension and somber mood of their reunion). He placed the tray in front of Red’s muddy boots. It pleased North to see this act, at the very least, got Red to move his boots off the coffee table.

“I got framed, remember? You disappeared and they blamed me,” North replied, swiping a cookie and then stifling a yawn.

Doctor North nodded. He remembered, he remembered it all. Ever-observant, (most psychiatrists are), North then added, “Get some rest son. We’ll travel to Cobiness tomorrow. I’ll arrange access.”

But, Red was already sleeping, the half-eaten cookie now dangling for its life on Red’s leather jacket.

It was good to see Red at peace. Doctor North allowed himself a brief and rare smile at the sight. Perhaps this was going to work out after all.

Redemption Song - Part 1

"You're a bum."

"Yes, I am," Red replied, refusing to even argue. It was hard to refute the truth and besides, Red lacked the energy to do so.

"And you're a registered criminal - actively wanted by the law."

"Yes, I am," Red stated again calmly.

"And you come to me with this? Not only for charity, but you want to be made a hero as well?"

"Yes," Red nodded in earnest.

"Get out. Get out before I call the police."

It wasn't always easy talking to fathers.

Red knew this particular conversation would be even more unpleasant than most. Yet, he was determined to have it - and once more - he was determined to get what he wanted.

Red paused, unmoved and then offered, "Heimdall, let me explain..."

"Don't call me that!" Red's father stated this request with some urgency.

"Why not? That's your name isn't it?" Red asked, somewhat confused.

"I don't give you permission to use that name," came the response.

Red stunned, asked the next obvious question, "You really want me to call you Dad?"

"No!" came the reply, even more emphatically than before.

"Shall I just call you dude?" Red asked, with sarcasm dripping like venom from his lips.

"I said get out. I meant it. I will call the police."

"The police can't stop me and you know it," and with this, Red sat back a little more on the sofa, trying to get comfortable - and failing.

Doctor Heimdall North stared at his wretched adopted son, stretched on his sofa. He glared some more as Red's dirty Doc Marten boots were then casually placed on top of his coffee table, while pieces of dried mud cascaded from the bottom of the boot onto his floor.

"It's bad enough, you're a wanted man. Do you have to be a slob too?" Doctor North asked.

"Dad..." Red continued, using the word like a dagger, "I need help. Please. Won't you help me?"

North paused. He knew the answer to the question, he knew it the moment Red had walked in the door."

"Yes," North resigned. "Yes, I will help. Let's get started shall we?"

I browse VV randomly sometimes when I'm eating out of my lunch pail at work.

I come across gems all the time, and I think it is nice to recognize other people's fine work:

This I thought was a great page and character, too good not to highlight:

Backtrack VV Page

One thing to note, is this a redirect, but it will take you to where you want to go.

Check out "Step" as well, a descendant, and then check out the page on time threads as well.

Virtue, you do great stuff. VV, we all owe you a debt of gratitude.

I HAVE noticed a sharp drop in AE teams,though.

So have I. I've actually noticed a decline in population from just six months ago, but teaming is not an issue because its been compensated by the ease of teaming with the new SK feature. I still believe the population is thinning across the game as a whole. Certainly in my immediate circle, many people are leaving CoH for the new stuff. It is entirely possible they will return. New games tend to surge in the first 90 days, and very often drop quickly after that. Certainly LOTRO, Conan and WAR experienced that situation.

To go back to AE, I am actually thrilled with the utility. It could have numerous improvements of course, but it is a wondrous tool - and I use it every week. I'd say 80% of my RP now revolves around AE missions catered to our group. The episodic nature of comics, lends itself so well to the tool, I find. We've literally written one part of a story, created a cliff-hanger, then had someone else write the next chapter of it, and we each take turns moving the stories in new directions. Wonderful stuff, because it means each chapter can adapt a different style/personality.

For me, it is thoroughly more enjoyable than the generic content, by a very large factor.

The base editor is also a triumph. I want more features here. I'd even pay more subscription money to get them. I'd love it if an expansion pack somehow incorporated new pieces for base designs etc. Most of the stuff I want, is stuff I see in generic missions all the time anyway.

I see the fusion of the base editor and AE as the ultimate triumph. Where a simple base editor could create custom maps for AE, or as a start, an AE mission could take place in your base. I'd also like to see you be able to populate your base with NPCs from your missions, with very basic animation and dialog.

I find the only reason COH really lingers for me, and the only reason why AION and Champions have no appeal to me, is they lack this kind of customization. My time is limited, my play-time is precious. The more I can cater my experience to my exact taste, and personalize the experience - to make it uniquely different, the more I value what the game offers.

Sadly, the gaming culture, isn't particularly keen on this. The lack of traffic in AE seems to demonstrate, people want simple, easy, fast content - and when they find it, are more than happy to repeat it, over and over again. I don't blame them, but the fast-food culture we live in, doesn't seem to want to bother too much, with the very tools that I believe make this game a real gem. I hope I am wrong in that assessment, and that game customization does, in fact, catch on enough, that it is provided in other MMOs as well.

Right now, the lack of AE interest, might mean the devs don't spend anymore time augmenting it. If that becomes the case, I will be a very sad panda indeed.

I often find, the less-realistic your character is, the more entertaining it can be. This is comics after all, so the more exaggerated and supremely over-the-top your character can be, the more it matches the genre.

This is not always the case of course, but in general, since we're in the world of ZAP, BAM, ZOWIE, (where physics is ignored and the scale of our powers are constantly contorted and out of hand), that to blend into your environment your personality can be (if you choose) to be equally distorted.

If you look at comics greatest creations, they left "realism" behind a long time ago. In fact, if you study Superman, he became progressively more "unreal" with each passing year - and yet it was this progression that made him surge in popularity.

So if the research is part of your enjoyment, then go for it. This is, after all just a lark. However, I don't think it will necessarily make your character "better" (whatever that means). Characters in stories, especially "fantastic" stories that comics regularly exploit, are often just as distorted as their environments.

This can include, not only irregular, hackneyed accents - but also creating entirely your own dialect/accent, simply because it is entertaining to do so.

So I want to offer the idea, that it can be fun to research - fun to learn about somewhere new to adapt into a character. However, in the end, the style doesn't necessarily have to be refined to work.

I don't think there's such a thing as "good" RP or "bad" RP. It's really just a question of personal preference. I tend to gravitate to those who are unashamed to do their own thing - without apology. Even if the story seems trite, or derivative, if it is honest in its intent - and if it is offered to you as an equal, I'll happily go along. This is why I always say kids are really "good" at RP, because it is often so free, so honest - and not "hung up" on how to do it right. It comes naturally to them, and for me (and this is my own view, nothing more), this makes it much more entertaining.

So, by all means research accents, but at some point let yourself fly-off-the-cuff if it suits you. This is a world where the laws of physics are utterly ignored, so the laws of linguistics are just as much free game.

My advice is stick to your guns. You are probably doing fine, learning the basics and understanding how to operate a group. Play with the base editor - it is, a great tool that you can only master through practice.

For what it is worth: I found I learned a lot more, actually starting my own venture than I ever did as a member of someone else's group. So, if you really want to run a group, you have to simply delve in and give it a go. It's the best way to learn.

But have patience, these things take time. Develop your theme and your own understanding of what it is you want as time goes by. Post your findings and thoughts here and on other forums.

And don't let us, or anyone tell you what is "right or wrong" in terms of style or approach. We offer advice only. None of us know better, and how "success" is judged in these matters is all relative. Big groups, for example, don't necessarily mean "better", and most of our advice here is related to personal preference, which may, or may not match your own. Success is really judged by how much fun you are having.

And best of luck, I hope you have a ball with the project.

Name: Alpha Squad

Currently Recruiting: We'd love to have anyone join, but since we are a small group, with irregular hours, we know we're not the best choice for a lot of people. However, if our style and casual schedule suit you, please join us!

RP Level: We're a RP-medium team. We are always IC on /local, and use parentheses to denote OOC discussion on /supergroup, which features both OOC and IC chat. We have an OOC channel as well. We tend to RP during breaks during missions and we tend to RP a lot in AE missions, which we all take turns developing.

Taking "turns" acting as GM, is one of our big aspects. We tend to let each one of us take turns developing stories/arcs in AE and playing them out. Sometimes they reference earlier missions, sometimes they are entirely new directions. The main point is, everyone has equal opportunity to "drive" the story.

PvP Level: Sporadic. Mostly we use PvP instances to roleplay and fight cross-faction. We've setup a rival villain-group that has some useful high-level villains for this purpose.

Theme/Concept: We are a blend of high-fantasy and super-science. We have a "Crisis on Infinite Earths" type story, based on the legend of Ragnarok. This idea however is not compulsory for your character. There is a bit of a northern theme as well as our super base is located in a fictitious country at the Arctic Circle.

Activity: Our prime time is weekends, from 6PM-10PM Pacific. We are also on sporadically on weeknights. All of us are busy, so we are not always playing, and generally weekends are the best time for all of us. Saturday night and Sunday night are very regular now. We almost always have a RP/AE mission arc to complete, which involves RP and mission runs on those nights, great fun!

Each weekend produces a new comic cover and is documented as an "issue" in our supergroup's story-arc. An example of this are here and here.

Requirements for Membership: We are generally only active on weekends, and we are quite small (five active roleplayers at this time). So really we have no requirements, other than recognition we are a smaller, friendlier, cosy SG! If that suits your needs we'd love to have you!

Leadership: Doctor North leads the team.

In-Game Contacts: @Ravyna. You can also reach me at this user page on VV.

OOC Global Channel: Alpha Squad OOC

Out-of-Game Contact: Please send a message to our VV site here, if you wish to contact us out-of-game or send me a PM on this very forum.

URL:

Guild Portal: http://www.guildportal.com/Guild.aspx?GuildID=329285
VirtueVerse: http://www.virtueverse.com/index.php/Alpha_Squad

Coalitions: Paragon Universe

Other Details: We are sporadic players, mostly playing on weekends. We tend to RP more than grind, so we do not rise in level very fast! Our stories are very collaborative and creative and we'd welcome any additional stories and characters to join us. We have a very functional base with 8 active teleporter beacons, a medical transporter, workbench and other utilities, as well as some superb RP spaces in the base.

If you have an alt, you just like to "dabble" with a little on weekends, that might be a good fit. Or if you are like us and work a lot, and only can truly rely on the weekend nights to play, then you are probably an excellent fit.

I'm with Agonus on this issue. I use macros here and there, my most common one is a "let's go" type tagline mixed with an emote. For example, "Let's crack some skulls", and then emoting a cracking of the knuckles. Or little one-liners with taunt emote, etc.

So, yeah, go for it, in moderation they can make missions more fun.