ClawsandEffect

[ QUOTE ]
If that's the [u]Farenheit 451[u] with Montag, the fireman who burns books, I think you meant to associate that name with Ray Bradbury. It's likely my favorite story by Bradbury. I haven't read as much Heinlein, but I particularly enjoyed [u]Stranger in a Strange Land[u], and particularly disliked [u]The Moon is a Harsh Mistress[u].

Anyway, good luck getting the name!

[/ QUOTE ]


D'oh! You're right. I can't believe I got those two confused. It's been so long since I read Farenheit 451 that I forgot who wrote it. And Stranger in a Strange Land is my favorite Heinlein book as well. Starship Troopers was also good. However the movie sucked. A lot. Halfway decent movie in it's own right. Had none of the spirit of the book intact at all.

The only time trash talking really bothers me is when some random stalker camps outside the hospital and repeatedly tp foe's me into a bunch of his buddies and then starts telling me how much I suck. Usually with horrible grammar. That's irritating, but I still don't whine about it. Usually I just invite them to take me on one on one or at least after my HP is back up to full. And am slightly amused when all they do is TP Foe me yet again.

And yes I realize that me posting this in this thread is going to be construed as "whining."

PvP is fun. I enjoy it even though i'm not especially skilled at it.
Being repeatedly ganked by a bunch of kids who found an easy way to rack up kills is not as fun. Especially when they have me in a position that I can't do much about it, and incessantly tell me how much better of a player than me they are.

MY trash talking usually consists of (after a rare victory by me) "lol, gotcha! round 2?"

And I will freely admit, if you beat me in a (relatively) fair fight, you've earned the right to trash talk a little bit.

But when you beat me using a cheap tactic and then crow about it in broadcast for the next 15 minutes? C'mon, grow up.

For the record, this post is not directed at anyone in particular. Just a generalization of the type of players that turn off new PvPers who otherwise might have had fun with it.

SG NAME: Night Walkers
PR: None as yet, website eventually.
PEAK HOURS: Completely random.
AMOUNT OF PvP: Casual PvP, nothing too hardcore.
AMOUNT OF POWERLEVELING: Very little, but we've been known to from time to time, usually offered, if you ask us to, we usually won't.
SIZE OF BASE: Medium, telepads to most zones.
REQUIREMENT: Have a pulse, be laid back, no amount of verbal abuse or harassing behavior will be tolerated in any form. SG mode until it starts to impact your influence gain, and then we request that you run in SG mode once in a while. First promotion is at 10,000 prestige. Limited base access until then, but it doesn't take long to rack up 10k prestige.
OTHER: Not much really, we're willing to help out if you're having trouble with something, just be willing to return the favor in the future. We have a number of players who are absent for extended periods of time. All we ask in that event is, if you're planning on being out of commission for a while send one of the leaders an in game email or tell informing us.
DESCRIPTION: We're primarily an SG designed for people who don't have the time to commit to a regular play schedule. We generally don't do a whole lot of stuff as an SG because of that, but we're trying to change that and set up at least one day a month or so that we can run as an SG.
LEADER OR RECRUITING OFFICERS: Currently, Claws and Effect and Kresnik 02 are our leaders, Stryfel and Waynestone can also invite but are rarely on. Any one of my alt characters listed in my sig can get you in as well.
VOICE CHAT: None currently, but we are working on getting Skype available to all the players in the Night Walkers and our sister SG Evolution X
PREFERRED METHOD OF CONTACT: None really, we'll occasionally throw out a broadcast shout out, but we don't spam it in zones so you might miss it. If you run across anyone that has Night Walkers under their name inform them of your interest and if we can't get you in right then, let us know when you'll be on next so we can arrange it.

We just started back up again after a hiatus of a few months, we'd like to rebuild into a decent sized SG with lots of play options for it's members. We'd also like to start doing SG events, but that is completely schedule dependant.

I would like a name back that I had a while ago. I deleted the character and didn't get around to remaking it until a week or so later and the name had been taken in the intervening time.

The name is Farenheit 451. I'm a huge Robert Heinlein fan and was overjoyed when I actually got the name the first time. I was a little bummed when I tried to remake it and found that it was taken.

If someone has the name and doesn't play the character I would really like it back. If it's a main or a 50 by now I'll understand and try to come up with something else.

Also, if someone has the name Hypothermic Shock and isn't especially attached to it that would be great as well, same deal as the first one, deleted the toon to try something new and when I went back, someone had snagged it. And if you don't want to give it up I have only one thing to say: The character had BETTER be an ice/electric blaster!!! (!)

Normally if a name is taken I just chalk it up to me not being original enough and I try harder to be creative. In this case though, they're names that I already had at one point and lost due to bad timing and such.

What do you get from headbutting high school lockers?

A 50 foot wide snow plow.

Dr. Alvin Morris leaned against the short wall listening to Ampithere's speech. It had been a long time since he had unsheathed his claws for the greater good. His comrades had all long since fallen, none of them having the longevity that his nanomachines had granted him by healing the ravages of time. The cybernetics that comprise 60% of his body were state of the art even then and only became better with time and upgrades. Now over 120 years old, he was still just as spry as in his crime-fighting youth. As the portal opened and the Rularuu rushed out, he just smiled grimly and leaped into battle. Claws and Effect was on the hunt again.

((Claws is the only hero I have that would still be alive in the year 2085, first time I've roleplayed him though))

Gratz to my bro Scott Wild, even though the punk didn't even tell me he was close so I could be there for it :P

My main hero Claws and Effect: Cause and Effect by Napalm Death
My main villain Chains of Misery: Eyes of a Criminal by Chimaira

Believe

Don't

I

Awesome idea. I've been out of the loop for a little bit or I would have done this days ago.....

/signed

Infinity Zero(Hero on Pinnacle) WellyaseetherewasthisexperimentIwasdoinganditgavem ethesefreakypowerswhenigotbackfromthedimensionaldo orwayIsteppedthroughjusttoseewhattheothersidelooke dlike.Whattyameanineedtotalkslowercuzyacan'tunders tandme?Icanunderstandmejustfinemaybeyoushouldliste nfasteryathink?

Marshall Stack(Hero on Pinnacle) ...............Well(sonic blast destroys everything in the room, interviewer looks shaken with their hair swept backwards at a 90 degree angle) ((he can't shut his sonic powers off))

Claws's weapon is pretty obvious, the devil is in the details. His claws are made of an advanced ceramic/titanium alloy, with electrodes running along the back of the blades, which he uses to launch electrical arcs from them. They are sheathed in the forearms of his cybernetic arms and are just over a foot long. If they are damaged in any way(not too likely to happen)he can resheathe them and let the nano-machines in his arms get to work repairing them. He designed the claws himself, modeling them after those of a certain comic book character after realizing the efficiency of the design. His arms are made out of the same material as the claws, so far he has not encountered anything capable of penetrating them, or the small shields he installed on the back of his forearms. The only downside to his claws(aside from possible copyright and patent issues)is the fact that if the motors in his arms were to ever be shorted out the claws will be stuck in whatever position they were in at the time. Doesn't sound like a big deal, but have you ever tried eating with 15 inch long claws jutting out of your hands?

((As soon as I have more time I'll use him in a RP, but my current schedule would cause me to fall way behind the thread, I've tried already and thats exactly what happened))

This is an update of Kresnik 02's post of a couple pages ago.
Basically I just wanted to inform Pinnacle at large that we(Night Walkers) now have a website to check out. You can find it here(if I can get the link to work, I suck at this stuff)
cohnightwalkers.com
Hopefully some of you out there will find us interesting enough to check out. I can be found in-game at any given time of day, you can find me at @Claws and Effect, you can also contact any of the other 3 Keepers at @Gomslaw of the Moss, @Bundle, and @Kesnik 02, respectively.

(Edit:link didn't work, fixed now.)

Claws's song: Body Hammer by Fear Factory
Marshall's song: Piece of Me by Skid Row(since he's pretty much a superheroic Sebastian Bach)

Me and a friend of mine are collaborating on a huge epic fantasy novel which will most likely never see the light of day, but it's fun and when it's finished(probably around 2015, taking into account our current rate of progress)it'll give me something to look at and say "I created this"

Other than that I've got a couple short stories laying around half finished and the first chapter or two of several novels I'll probably never finish(yup, you guessed it, ADD). I tend to focus more on music as it seems to be more immediately rewarding. No band yet but I'm working on it. Which brings up another question. Are there any other musicians in the house?(as it were)

Edit: I apologize if I derailed the thread in any way

O.K. I've got to put my two cents in here. As far as sticking to ATs on the rare occasions i step into an RP thread, I generally do as it makes things a little easier to work with and, as I don't care if someone else writes for my characters it gives people a general idea of what they can do. For example Marshall Stack is a Sonic/devices blaster, he has superspeed that is based on him "riding" a sound wave generated by his powers( also a good rationalization for travel power suppression in-game ). On the devices side he is limited by whatever he is wearing or can fit in his ever present duffel bag, which usually contains various types of grenades and other such things obtainable by someone with a shady military connection. I just try to use his powers creatively. Claws and Effect is a Claws/Regen scrapper,I don't stickto the powersets exclusively moveswise and his regen stems from nano bots, his limbs can be temporarily shorted out by a large enough electrical charge or an EMP, they don't stop altogether, but they behave erratically for a while.
Parents? Claws's parents died in a car accident when he was in college so they're out of the picture. Marshall's parents are extremely supportive of his decision to become a hero as it's really the only career path open to him, as it is hard to interview for a job when introducing yourself shatters the windows. That's all I've got on the subjects I skimmed through, maybe when I have more time to post I can get involved in an RP thread and everyone can get to know me and my characters better. As it stands now I pop up, post once or twice and when I get back to the thread a week or so later it either has stalled out or left me far behind.

Til later, Claws

For Claws and Effect it would be Power Trip by Chimaira
For Marshall Stack it would be Communication Breakdown by Led Zeppelin

Awaken.......bright lights......white room....pain.

OK, I'm in a hospital, I thought to myself now, how did I get here?

Memories come flooding back. I had taken a day off work so I could get a few things done on my '69 Mach One. I had just found out that Crey Industries was trying to buy out the lab and all the cybernetic research I had been doing, and I wanted a day or two to think about it.
Just then a nurse walked through the door, breaking my reverie.

"Mr. Morris, you shouldn't be awake yet!" she exclaimed "Those injuries would've put most people in a coma!"

I tried to sit up to find out what the hell she was talking about, and realized that I couldn't move my arms. I turned to look at them to see why I couldn't move them and almost passed back out.

My arms are gone! was my first, panicked thought. What did they do to me?!?

More memories.....
Welding the frame of my Mustang where it had developed a small break, I heard a hissing sound. I turned to look at the tank, only to see the pressure gauge dropping rapidly. Before I could do more than shield my face with my arms, the tank exploded taking conciousness with it.

"I"m sorry Mr. Morris, we had to amputate your arms, the damage was too severe." the doctor was saying "Also, the explosion threw you across the street into your neighbor's car, every bone in your legs is broken......"
"Doctor," I interupted him"it's 'Dr. Morris'. How long do I have to remain here? I would like to get to my lab as soon as possible."
"I'm afraid that's not possible, Dr. Morris," a man I had not noticed spoke up " with your incapacitation the other partners of Cytek Robotics decided that selling would be in their best interest. Crey Industries now owns Cytek and all of it's properties."
I noticed the man had a very smug look on his face as he said this. Somehow, I don't think it was an accident that my tank exploded like that.
"Not all of them," I told the smug man "most of the cybenetics were patented in my name. That means they still belong to me."
After he had left I passed back out for a while. When I woke up I had the nurse contact my research assistant. When Tricia answered the phone I had the nurse leave the room so I could talk in private.
"Tricia, remember how we needed a test subject for the arms?" I asked her "Well, we've got one now. Get ahold of Gunther and tell him to get me out of this hospital, I want to get started on the process as soon as possible."

Three weeks later......

"The arms seem to be working as intended," I said over the intercom "I'm still trying to get used to these electrodes on my face though."
I had been broken out of the hospital by Gunther Ingvaldsun, a mercenary who had lost a leg in some black ops mission somewhere. I had fitted him with a cybernetic replacement, so he owed me a favor. It took fourteen hours of surgury to attach the cybernetic arms to my empty shoulder sockets, and a further eighteen hours to replace my shattered legs. In order to make the cybernetic replacements act like my own limbs they had to be wired directly to my brain. Testing was almost complete when a group of armed men burst into my makeshift lab. I discovered that not only could I use my new limbs instinctively, but they were much more powerful than my natural limbs. I made short work of the goons.

I made a quick decision and felt in my gut that it was the right one.....
I was going to become a hero.

Nice job on the story, me likes.

((Wow I took a couple days off and this thread ran away without me, just gonna have to write myself out of it))

Anyone who thought to look for the strange shadow creature noticed that it was simply......gone. The only indication of it's presence was an empty glass on the bar, a small ber of gold sitting next to it, and a dictinct chilliness in the general area.

After observing the situation for a while Wraithwind seemed to come to a decision. He *slid across to the bar and seemed to lurk just above one of the bar stools, never actually touching it, more like casting himself on it. Scanning the shelves behind the bar he noticed a bottle he had not expected to find here. As he spotted it his glowing eyes flared a little and he formed an arm and pointed at it.
"I would like a container of that substance." he intoned, indicating a bottle that seemed to absorb light so that it was little more than a spot of darkness on the shelf."I know not what it is called here but in my laguage it is called....." at that he made a noise like wind whipping down a passageway. While gesturing he extended part of himself over the counter and a thin rectangular ber of what appeared to be solid gold dropped onto the smooth surface with a clink.

((OOC:I almost forgot I posted in here I've been pretty busy. BTW sliding is how Wraithwind moves in his natural form. It resembles a shadow moving across whatever surface is behind him. It's kind of disconcerting as no matter what angle you view him from he always appears to be cast on the opposite side of the room as the viewer, he can also shadow jump in areas with lots of shadows, making him very difficult to spot.))

The enrgy being Marshall was fighting seemed to slow for a second, giving him a chance to set up for a dreadful wail. Unfortunately, he had to slow down to normal speed in order to scream and one of the bolts connected squarely with his chest just before he could let loose the wail. Summoning everything he had he screamed with all his might, turning th energy creature into a shower of bright white sparks. Scanning the immediate area he was relieved to see there were no more creatures in the vicinity, giving him the opportunity for a short rest. After resting he activated his cloaking device and headed toward the sounds of battle at near the speed of sound.

((Not trying to god-mode here, but Marshall's kinda squishy and I figured a tier 9 nuke at full defiance would be enough to take one of those beasties out nicely, along with a large chunk of the surroundings.))

(( Yay! I can finally tell the story behind Marshall Stack!)

June 28th, 1979.

Irwin Stack was nervous. His first child would be born any minute and he was jittery and full of energy from the four pots of coffee he had drank in the last twenty-two hours. His wife, Elizabeth, was having a rough time in labor. He had been in the room with her more or less constantly since ten o'clock the previous night and had only taken a few breaks to step outside for a cigarette now and then. Over the past few hours only one though had been reverberating through his mind; I hope the mutant gene skips this generation like it did me. Just then the doctor opened the door and beckoned Irwin inside.
"It won't be long now, Mr. Stack."the doctor told him"She's fully dilated and it seems to be going smoothly."
The birth went without incident, until the moment the doctor slapped the baby's bottom to induce the first breath. instead of the standard wail, the baby produced the loudest sound Irwin had ever heard in his life. Holding his hands over his ears and watching glass all around the room explode into razor sharp shards, Irwin realized that hs worst fear had come true, his son was a mutant.

September 3rd, 1984

"Marshall, honey, it's time to get ready for school." Elizabeth Stack called up the stairs of their modest home in Baumton."Make sure you wear your galoshes, it's raining outside."
It hadn't taken long to discover that unlike most mutants, Marshall was incapable of suppressing his powers. So instead of public school Marshall's parents were paying to send him to a special school for such "gifted" children. Part of his lesson plan included instruction in sign language so that Marshall could communicate without risking destroying property or injuring someone, his parents were also being taught to understand sign language, though they did not need to use it themselves as there was nothing wrong with Marshall's ears.

The first day of school started out rough for Marshall. Immediatly the other kids sensed someone who was different and swooped in like a pack of hungry vultures. He tried to ignore them but they just picked on him more.

"Why dontcha say somethin', freak-boy?" the largest of the children taunted him "Wassamatter? You chicken?"

Marshall turned to walk away like his dad had taught him, only to be grabbed by the shoulder and spun back around.

"Don't walk away when I'm talking to you, freak-boy!" the large bully growled "You're gonna get a whoopin for that!"

The large bully drew his fist back and punched Marshall square in the nose. At the sight of his own blood the normally passive boy became enraged and responded the only way he knew how.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!" he shouted at the bully, who was blasted twenty feet backwards and through a fence, had the boy not been a budding tanker he would have been seriously injured or even killed.
The principal came rushing outside to see what was going on.
"What the hell was that?!?!" the normally calm lady said "It sounded like I had a freight train rushing through my head!"
The quiet girl who had been watching unnoticed spoke up.
"That boy over there in the fence kept picking on him,"she said in a timid voice "so he yelled at him."
And so Marshall made his first friend, a telepathic girl named Josie Wallace.

June 5th, 1997

It was the last day of school at Middleson's School for Gifted Children, and Marshall was overjoyed to finally be done with tests and homework. In fact he planned to take Josie, who had been his girlfriend since freshman year, out to dinner and a concert in celebration of their newly acquired freedom. After the concert, which was at a club in King's Row, Marshall and Josie were walking back to the train to head home, when suddenly Josie grabbed Marshall's arm and told him to walk faster.
"Somebody is planning on doing something bad near us," she whispered to him"we should get to the train as fast as we can."
No sooner did she speak than three men in white clothes and skull masks stepped out of an alley in front of them.
"Just do what we say and no one will get hurt." the apparent leader told them "We just want your money and valuables and you can be on your way."
"Do what they say Marshall," Josie told him "He means it."
"That's right, kid," the thug said "I do mean it."
Marshall and Josie handed over everything except a necklace that Josie's mother had given her.
"Please let me keep this," Josie pleaded with the thugs "it's the only thing I have left of my mother, it's not worth much."
"I said everything!" the lead thug shouted and slapped Josie, grabbing the necklace as she reeled backwards.
That was too much for Marshall. After training himself for so long not to use his powers, he didn't even think to use them now, he just lashed out with his fist and connected with the lead thug. One of the other thugs, already jittery, squeezed the trigger of his cheap submachine gun by accident, spraying bullets in a wide swath across the sidewalk, missing Marshall completely but stitching a line of puncture wounds across Josie's abdomen. Marshall stared in disbelief for a second or two, unable to believe what had just happened. Then he screamed. Afterwards the only thing left of the thugs were broken corpses laying fifty feet from Marshall and Josie, who had lapsed into a coma. She died three days later.

Marshall was devastated by the loss of the only person he had yet been able to communicate with. Slipping into a deep depression, he barely noticed the events of the much publicised trial he was subjected to. He didn't even react to the verdict of acquittal by reason of self defense. Withdrawing into himself he decided that the only way to prevent that from happening again was to learn how to use his powers. He spent nine long years perfecting his control, and learning how to use the equipment that he obtained from an old friend of his father's who worked for D.A.T.A. Blaming himself still for Josie's death he registered as a hero and hit the streets on a personal mission of penance for the girl he got killed.