Crimson_Archer_EU

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Have you asked yourself what motivation is there for people to bother with your character to that degree? Is he a joy to spend time with, or is conversation more like pulling teeth?

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The one thing I really didn't want to do was create a "standing in the corner looking filled with angst and woe" type of character. Loup isn't as grim as his Wiki describes. He has moods, but these tend to be rather brought on by him trying so desperately hard to figure out what he's actually supposed to be doing as a hero. I do attempt to let people know my character is there looking to roleplay by dropping emotes whenever I can, and that sometimes gets things going in the right direction though there have been times when even that didn't work (probably everyone talking in SG chat or something). Loup doesn't just growl and loom at people; he does tend to hold conversations and always has several people he watches over like a big brother.

I had a really great bit of rp a few evenings ago where a character roleplayed having watched Loup fight in the rings, and he had a pretty fair idea what it must have been like for Loup, coming from that sort of life trying to come up top and learn to care about being part of society. He spent a hour or so trying to explain things to Loup, and Loup sucked it up as fast as he could, with interest. My character has even gone to the university to start reading as he was told to do, as his education stopped rather short.

Unfortunately, Loup does make mistakes - he beat one of his team-mates in the base dojo because he didn't understand what a "friendly spar" actually was, and no one explained it to him. That caused for a rather tense moment but it also brought some brilliant rp out of it as people realised Loup didn't come from a background any of them had ever dealt with before. If he's just gone from a rather ebullient ball of laughs to turning and walking away, it's so much of a character shift some people do tend to wonder what's happened. He has a certain mode of thinking which is rather different to the way regular humans think. Again, that's something maybe only a small amount of people are going to pick up on. But there's always a reason for Loup's anger these days - thankfully a few people have figured that out.

When I set up the character I imagine he was going to be dismissed by a good portion of the "hero" population for one reason or another - but I also rather hoped there would be that small sliver in the population that might actually look at this rather hairy fellow coming out of nowhere in the middle of a Rikti invasion and putting himself into the thick of things, nealy getting himself killed, and then getting right back up again because he "made a promise".

Like I said, there's a lot there. There's nothing about Loup when he's first around someone which would hint to him being a feral beast looking for a fight. Most of the time he's looking at everything around him as if he hasn't seen it before (which for the most part, he hasn't). The main thing is trying to find someone who has a character who can "talk Loup's language", if you see what I'm saying.

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Thanks for a very intelligent and well written reply! (OMG!!! Grammar!! I thought that died years ago... )

Like Coile, I'm now intrigued. If you happen to see Crimson Archer hanging around anywhere (although he's usually either on an investigation/mission, or winding down after one), feel free to talk to him! This is made easier by the fact he's done a few TV&press interviews and has just had an action figure line come out (which he's not quite sure how to react to yet!), so he's vaguely recognisable.

I can understand the "promise" thing; on one hand Crimson is in it for the excitement, while on the others he's very much trying to make up for what he sees as past failures. It's this kind of thing that makes your character seem more human... if that's not an insult!

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Perhaps I was overestimating people's willingness to bother to dig into a character to see how they tick or to understand WHY he does the things he does.

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Very likely.

Have you asked yourself what motivation is there for people to bother with your character to that degree? Is he a joy to spend time with, or is conversation more like pulling teeth?

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Expect me back next week.

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About effing time!

The Offices of Raymond Free Press Group
Founder's Fall, Paragon City, RI.

The meeting room in the Raymond Free Press Group offices was smaller than Jay had expected, but bright and new with glass surfaces and brushed steel furnishings. Abstract art in blues and greens hung on the one wall, while opposite was floor to ceiling glass, the huge windows offering amazing views over the city at this height. Jay sipped his coffee and watched the afternoon sunlight reflecting off the WarWalls in sparkles and waves, giving them the appearance of a vertical sheet of water.

It was past midday and the room was already filling up with people. Jay estimated about a dozen so far, but with majority of the room taken up with a long table, it felt like more. Most of them were in their own little cliques, twittering like wild birds with occasional furtive glances in Jay's direction. He ignored them the best he could, and focused on the view and his coffee.

Behind him, Jay heard the door to the room open and a further three people entered. The first, a young woman in her early twenties, was wearing a fitted skirt suit, horn rimmed glasses and had her brunette hair caught up in a tight bun. She carried an armful of leather folders and was followed by the second man, whom Jay recognised as Samuel Raymond II, the owner of the Raymond Free Press Group and the man who also owned the rights to the Crimson Archer name and image. Jay sipped his coffee again to hide his scowl at the thought. Samuel Raymond moved aside, allowing Jay a clear view of the third man, and he nearly spat his coffee onto the grey carpet in surprise. Nathan, Jay's cousin, surveyed the room and then, noticing Jay's stunned look, threw him a wink and grinned.

The young woman walked around the glass topped table, laying out the folders in front of each steel chair, deftly avoiding the still whispering groups as she went. Samuel Raymond smiled at her when she was done, as the young woman took a position to one side of him.

"Gentlemen," he began with a smile, "thank you all for coming. If we can all take our seats and we'll get this meeting started."

He moved to the head of the table as the groups separated into individuals vying for the best position around the table. Nate took a seat at Samuel Raymond's left hand, while the young woman, whom Jay presumed to be the owner's PA, sat at his right. Jay drank the remains of his coffee and hung back, waiting for the jockeying to finish before seeing what spaces were left. He'd received notice of this meeting a few days earlier, and he hadn't been looking forward to it. The message on his voicemail had been short and lacking in details, but the gist of it had been, "We'd like to discuss your public image".

Moving to a small side table, Jay refilled his cup with black coffee. He took his time, aware that the meeting was waiting for him to sit down. He could feel the sense of anticipation in the room, and started to feel a little exposed. He dropped three sugar cubes into the coffee and stirred it slowly, before turning to face the room. Every eye was on him, and he put on a tight smile as he moved across to an empty chair at what appeared to be the unfashionable end of the table.

"With Mr Reynolds now seated, I trust we can begin," Samuel Raymond said, nodding towards Jay with a knowing smile. He was obviously aware of the fact that Jay was here unwillingly, and seemingly acknowledged the fact. "Firstly, although you all know who I am, it is probably best to introduce Mr Jay Reynolds, otherwise known as the hero Crimson Archer, for whom you have all been working so hard these past few weeks."

Jay scowled at this comment. They damn well ain' bin workin' fer me!, he thought to himself, and rubbed at the full beard covering his cheeks. He looked down at the leather covered document folder in front of him and wondered what it might contain.

"As you're all aware from the information and media my company has provided, Jay has been a protecting our city for almost 18 months now. Yes, we all know he is a multimillionaire, but I for one think there is something noble in the way he has put aside his money to protect the citizens of Paragon with little more than a bow & arrow and a flak jacket to assist him." Jay had the impression that he was being mocked, but Samuel's tone of voice appeared sincere and there were murmurs of appreciation from around the table.

"As most of you will know, Raymond Free Press Group owns the intellectual rights to the Crimson Archer property, even though Jay here works under that hero name by agreement. As such, we feel it is high time to explore the possibilities which that ownership brings and at the same time offer our archer some well deserved publicity!" At this, Samuel Raymond spread his arms wide so as to encompass the whole room, and the people around the table began to applaud.

Jay was confused by the reaction. He hadn’t expected to come here to be thanked for what he did as the Crimson Archer, but the mention of publicity made him nervous. He looked down at the leather folder in front of him, flicked open the front cover of the folder and read the title page;

Raymond Free Press Group

Concept Meeting

Crimson Archer Action Figures
Wave 1.1 - Urban Defender

Discussion of Costume Re-design Proposals with Real Life Intergration

The crack from Jay's teeth as he ground his jaws together was audible above the applause and the clapping of hands quickly abaited. Jay laid his hands flat on the tabletop in front of him, spreading his fingers wide, and looked down at the acid scarring on their backs. For a moment he saw himself in his red uniform, emptying the contents of his acid arrows onto the steel doorway leading to Saffron's cell, trying to melt the lock; fighting to get her free. He bit down as that same desperation started to rise within him.

"Y'all wanna tell me exactly what's wrong wit' my uniform that it needs re-designin'?" Jay said without looking up. His voice carried steel and venom in equal parts, causing the men sitting closest to him to pull their chairs away.

A quiet descended on the room. "Jay..." Nate began.

"Hush up, Cus," the archer said through gritted teeth, looking up sharply. "Ah was talkin' to ya Boss."

Samuel regarded Jay levelly, then smiled. "You appear to be mistaken, Jay. Nathan is not working for me. He is here because I thought you would appreciate a friendly face, and as Nathan has been helping me with a legal matter, I decided to invite him along personally. But I do appreciate your straight talking, and I imagine you would appreciate it in return?”

He did stop for an answer, but instead flipped open the folder in front of him. “If you would like to look over pages 3 and 4 of your portfolio, you’ll find a montage of your recent appearances. I apologies for the quality of some of them, but you do move rather quickly through the city.”

Jay flipped to those pages, and were as they had been described; photographs of him as the Crimson Archer jumping from buildings, loosing arrows at a criminal, every day stuff, all taken in the last month.

“The first thing that I noticed when looking at your photographs is how worn you look. From the untrimmed beard and eyepatch, to the scratches and patching on your armoured costume, you look like the hard working man you are. The problem is when people in this city think of a hero, they think of Statesman, of Synapse, and of Manticore. Well designed, well presented superheroes. Your present image makes you an invisible hero, Jay. Like the cops on the street, you’re just there. Invisible until people need you. All this doesn’t help me to market you, and it doesn’t help you get the recognition you deserve.”

Jay pushed back on this chair, lifting the front legs, and crossed his arms. His lips were a tight line behind his beard and his one good eye narrowed dangerously. He could feel that old stubbornness like a fist in his stomach. Jay had been drawing the Crimson Archer as his own personal superhero since he was six years old, and becoming his hero had been a dream come true. But at the heart, Jay was human. He’d worn a heavy flak jacket dyed red because he didn’t know what else to wear to protect himself. He had six jackets all the same, each with the same amount of wear and tear from months of working and running the streets. He didn’t want to change, it was his image.

“I told you before, cus,” Nate said quietly from the end of the table, “there are people who look up to you. You’re a role model now, more than just a hero. Maybe it’s time to dress and act like it too?”

Jay looked up briefly at his cousin, before turning his attention back to the folder. He flicked through the pages, looking at the various designs for costumes. Some of them were pretty good, stylish without being flashy, but others showed drawings of him seemingly flying through the air in cape and eye mask. He could feel his jaw tighten as he looked through more pages at the increasing more far-fetched costumes. Jay was about to stand up, tell them he wasn’t one for changing and walk out, when his father’s words, spoken to him as he sat in that Independence Port medical centre, came back to him.

“You're too much like me, son. We're both kinda bullish an' stubborn. We keep goin' against the tide, fightin' on in a straight line cos that's the way we picked at the start, even when things change an' there might be an easier way.”

Jay sighed. Was he just digging his heels in because he knew better, or just for the sake of not changing.? He’d been speaking to Ryan about updating his image, but he never expected it to actually happen. That was just an excuse to spend some time with the younger man. Hell, even Saffron had taken a look at his patched uniform and unkempt beard as they’d hunted Nemesis troops and called him a “mountain man”. He shook his head, and flicked the book back to the least extreme illustrations and design.

“Fine. Okay,” Jay said, looking up at Samuel Raymond, “but on one condition. Ah work with the fellas that made the stuff are like in here, cos summa the guys ya used are clueless.”

Nate smirked, and lifted his coffee cup to cover it as the murmur of dissention ran around the table. Samuel Johnson just smiled, and gestured towards the end of the table. “Would you care to explain what you mean by that, Jay?”

“Sure thin'.” Jay stood up, and opened the folder to the page with the flying illustration. He pointed at the drawing. “This here artist has got a great idea fer what a superhero looks, but ah can’t fly. Ah ain’ got super speed, super reflexes, and ah can’t shoot fire outta my butt. Ah’m jus’ a man who gets by, and if ah start ta try an’ drag a cape aroun’ behind me then ah’m gonna find myself dead pretty soon.

“Don’t get me wrong, folk who spend less time wit’ their feet on th’ ground look great in them, but ah gotta be able ta run an’ jump without my feet getting’ caught up, ya know?”

He flicked to another design, closer to the front. “But this kind thing ah can work with. Ah like the leather jacket and the tight pants, but ah ain’ ‘bout ta start wearing a domino mask fer no one. Ah ain’ never had a secret identity, an’ folks’ll start talking if ah start tryin’ ta hide now.”

“Hmmm… that’s a good point, Jay. Thank you.” Samuel said, making some of his own notes. “Is that the only design you like, or have you found others?”

Jay flicked back through the pages. “Mostly jus’ that one. The others have some stuff that ah like. Them glasses, fer example. An’ tots and gloves in this one. But after that it’s gettin’ too far away from th’ real world an’ inta Statesman territory!” Jay grinned.

Samuel nodded and closed his own folder. “Very well, I think I can assemble a creative design team from your input, that’s probably all we need you for today. If you can make yourself available for another concept meeting, as these designs are just for the Urban Defender Crimson Archer action figure, we still have the Armoured Assault and Night Hunter action figure designs to talk through at a later date.”

Inwardly Jay groaned. He’d always loved action figures as a kid, but this seemed a little embarrassing. He was sure he’d get some friendly jibes from his team mates and friends when they eventually saw them in the toy stores.

Jay nodded, stood up and turned to leave.

“Just one thing, cus,” Nate called from behind him. “You will shave, won’t you?”

The door shut behind Jay with a thump, and he was sure he could hear his cousin’s muted laugh from inside.

[u]END.[u]

Just tried it, and the UnionWiki is working fine for me.

Sorry FFM, might just be you...

Well, for me, Terry Dodson is the best Harley artist, try you could try searching on him rather than the character?

Alternatively, get yourself a ticket to Memorabilia and get one of the Draw The World Together artists at the NC Soft/Cryptic tables to draw you a unique image of her!

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even manticore just seems like lame, too bitter for a world were the medical tech is rapidly aproching perfect.

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I think I'd probably be bitter to. He watched his parents die, and now lives in world were they could have been easily saved, and possibly considers that less deserving "heroes" get saved every day by the mediport technology.

My understanding that the mediporters and most other technological advances in Paragon City actually came out items of alien tech salvaged from the first Rikti war. So, what did AR/* blasters do before three years ago, when it was just Elastoplast and lots of Salvlon that was available!

((Okay, this story is a little old now, but took place a couple of hours after the events where Amber Banshee was rescued from her captivity and torture. The rescue event was run under fairly extreme rules and ended up with two characters dead, two maimed and all suffering from wounds both physical and mental which would affect them for months to come!! Anyway, enjoy.))

[u]The Night After[u]

4:30am
Friday, 29th June 2007
Bell Medical Centre, Independance Port

The air conditioning vent blew fresh, cool air into the dark hospital room. Its gentle hum added a layer of accompaniment to the quiet "beep, beep, beep" of a heart monitor down the hall and the wheezing breaths of a sleeping Tygerboy. Jay sat on his bed, hugging his knees with bandaged hands, rocking gently in time to the rhythm of the room. The cooled air ruffled Jay's hair as he lifted his face towards the grill, his right eye closed. It was a strange sensation, feeling the air with only one side of his face, as the left side was covered with bandages and numbed by anaesthetics.

Jay's body ached with a tiredness from weeks of activity and stress, but his mind wouldn't let him rest. He kept thinking back on everything that had happened; re-living the events through a prism of tired recollection. They had been brought to the Bell Medical Centre barely two hours ago; the sirens and lights of their Hero Corps transport announcing to the World how badly they'd been beaten. The others had watched as Saffron and Markos had been rushed to Intensive Care, nurses and doctors hovering over the rolling gurneys like carrion birds in white. The rest, the survivors, were subjected to tests and treatment, before being taken to quiet places of recovery. Jay gently touched the soft padding covering what was left of his left eye socket. He couldn't even feel the pressure of his own fingers against the fabric. He smiled to himself; it was probably just as well. He'd have the rest of his life to feel what it was like to lose an eye. He put his chin to his knees and closed his eyes.

The mission to rescue Saffron had started well. Despite being outnumbered, they had dispatched the guards with an impressive efficiency; although discovering that some of the men had been booby trapped by their masters came as a shock to everyone. However, a good start is never the whole story, and things had gotten progressively worse. Coile had become trapped under a pile of rubble, his powered armour destroyed, leaving him powerless. Strike one. Markos, the ex-Lost named Found, had become separated from the team and had lost an arm to the powerful blast of automated defences. Strike two. Jay himself had taken a shot to the face with some exotic weapon which had left his eye literally burning. Strike three. Dante Carver and Jay's cousin, Mal, had both fallen and been lost before the end. How many strikes do ya get before ya fail?

But they had won, and Saffron was home. And that was the point, wasn't it? That was why so much risk had been taken, and it had been the right choice. Right? Then why did it taste so bitter...

The heart monitor continued its unrelenting assault on silence, with the air con and Tygerboy's wheezing laying down covering fire. Jay couldn't take it; he had to talk to someone or he felt he'd start to scream and might not stop. He reached for the multimedia unit that hung over his bed and picked up the phone. He quoted his Amex number to the hospital's operator and gave her the number he needed to be connected to. She reminded him that it was 4:30am. Jay thanked her, but insisted he be put through. Her voice was replaced by a dialing tone and then a ringing. In the isolated darkness of the room, it seemed to ring forever before it was answered.

"Hello? Yeh?" The tired voice was of a man in his 50s, with the same accent as his son.

"Howdy Pa." Jay said to his father, his eye tight shut and relief evident in his voice.

"Jay? What's the matter, son? Is everythin' okay?"

"No, it's all pretty much far from okay..." Jay said. He choked slightly as he spoke. "Mal's dead, Pa."

There was silence. The phone crackled, as if nervous when no voices were carried through it. Jay couldn't take the quiet anymore. "Pa?"

"How'd it happen, son?" Bobby Reynolds' voice was slow, and calming. "Have ya told ya Aunt Marianne yet?"

"No Pa, ah ain't told no one else. It only happened a couple'a hours ago. See, he was shot, right in front'a me, an'... ah couldn't... ah didn't..."

Jay breathed slowly, trying to control the rising panic. He couldn't explain what had happened to his father, not without giving everything away. Jay had never had a secret identity. He'd been too excited when he first became a registered hero to even give it any thought, but Mal had done differently. His mother wouldn't know Mal's secret, nor would Uncle Bobby, Jay's father. Could he still claim to keep that secret? Do you owe anything to the dead?

"Pa, ah've got somethin' ah need to tell ya," Jay said slowly. "Mal, he was... he died cos..."

"Ah already know, son. Marianne told me."

It was Jay's turn to be shocked into silence. His mouth opened, but he didn't know what to say. They knew?

"Jay... Son. Marianne is Mal's Mom, an' there ain't nothin' that a child can keep from their folks, no matter how careful they think they're bein’. It don't matter how much they think they're protectin' us from the truth, we know anyhow."

His voice was gentle, like speaking to a crying child as he bathed a cut knee; soothing and comforting.

"Thing is, we let y'all do it, so it's our own fault. We know, an' we wait fer you to find the right time to tell us, because that's important to ya."

Jay suddenly realised this wasn't all about Mal. His father knew his secrets too, and had kept them closer than Jay had himself.

"I'm sorry, Pa."

"Ain't nothin' to apologies fer, son. Ah love ya fer who you are, Jay. Same as ah love ya sister. Ain't nothing either of ya can do or say to change that. Now... tell me what happened."

Like a dam which cracks and then bursts, Jay told his father everything. They talked about Saffron's disappearance, about the investigation and the rescue mission. They talked about Jay's injuries and about how Mal had died. Then they talked about Mal; his life, his loves and fears, everything that he had done that touched them somehow. Jay and his father laughed and cried for over an hour, sharing their memories and baring their souls.

"Ya know, Jay," Bobby said, after his son had recounted another story of Mal's exploits as Redsight, "seems to me that there's somethin' ya never saw about Mal. Somethin' ya should try carry with ya now that he's gone. Mal knew how to turn life to his advantage, to take a hit an' change his course. You're too much like me, son. We're both kinda bullish an' stubborn. We keep goin' against the tide, fightin' on in a straight line cos that's the way we picked at the start, even when things change an' there might be an easier way.

See, when Maddy died, ya took that accident an' ya chose ta carry it like a burden; yer keep tryin' ta save everyone 'cos ya couldn't save her, son. But Mal survived that accident an’ he turned it inta a strength. He took what happened ta him an' he said "Ah'm changed, but ah have survived". YOU survived this, son. Don't turn that inta another burden."

Jay blinked, his face red with tears as he listened to his father's words. "Ah'll try, Pa. Ah promise ah will."

"Good boy, Jay..." His father paused. "There's somethin' else, son. Put yer things in order. The grief an' the anger; it'll all come, an' when it does, it won't brook no denyin'. Ah remember that from when ya Ma died. So, get yer business in order now, son, cos yer won't be able to later, ah can promise yer that. An' after that... Well, ya gotta decide whether ya press on regardless, or try an' find a new way."

Jay nodded, and then, for the first time, noticed the music. Inside his head someone was singing a lullaby. He recognised it as one from his childhood, and with the song came a memory of Mal, sitting on Jay's little sister's bed, singing her to sleep.

"Ya can't keep anything from Chelsea, Jay. Ya should know that." Chuckled his father, his sleepy voice sad and amused. "She might not always seem like she's here with the rest of us, but she loved Mal same as you. Try ta remember the good times. It's better ta celebrate a life, son."

"Thank ya, Pa." He said, and wishing his father good night, he hung up the phone.

Jay lay on the hospital bed, his face throbbed with pain and his one good eye ran with tears, but in his mind his sister sang to him a lullaby of their childhood, and for the first time in weeks, Jay Reynolds rested in deep and dreamless sleep.

[u]END[u]

Yeah, it's real. I've checked the support forums, and it seems that what is usually a very stable hosting option is currently going through its first server upgrade in ages... and we've walked right into the middle of it!

Things will settle down in time, but I'm currently investigating their "advanced hosting" option, which is basically moving The Militia forum to its own, paid for, webhost. This would give us greater options for the future too.

Put up with the server reboots and stick with the new forum best you can. One way or another, it'll be sorted soon!

I have created a new forum on freeforums.org, which hopefully will be available to everyone. However, they are currently resynching their servers so the site it there, but I can't do anything with creating new boards, colours, etc until it's done!

Linkie

Get registered if it works, but be prepared for changes over the coming week.

Personally, as I only have the one account, I don't purposely link my characters together. I find it frustrating that they can never meet and yet are supposed to have this connection I can't explore in-game!

As such, all my characters are individuals, although they may end up connected to my other characters through other characters they meet who already HAVE that connection.

I actually find a generally contrived connection between characters as less satisfying from an RP point of view than one which develops through play. But that's just my 2 cents...

The following article appears in the morning edition of The Paragon Herald on Saturday, 29th September 2007;

Longbow Attacked By Walking Dead

Text of the article;
Longbow Attacked By Walking Dead
Article by George S. Sinclair
Late Wednesday night, a Longbow facility on Mercy Island was the scene of an unusual and terrifying attack by what eye witnesses referred to as “the living dead”.

Security footage released to The Paragon Herald appears to show the Longbow agents defending themselves against an attack from a pair of decaying corpses. In the background a man with a white painted face and top hat can be seen drumming, supposedly encouraging or directing the animated cadavers.

“It was like being in a horror show,” said one Longbow agent, who did not wish to be identified. “We see a lot of things being stationed on the Rogue Isles, but this is the first time I’ve had to face zombies!”

A Freedom Corps spokeswoman stated that they were interested in speaking to the man seen drumming on the camera footage. Described as being approx. 6’ in height and of African/Caribbean origin, he was seen to be wearing tattered white trousers and white leather coat, combined with a white top hat. Most strikingly his face was painted in a 50/50 design of white paint.

If anyone recognises this man, or is aware of his location, then they are asked to contact Freedom Corps on their toll free number. A reward for information leading to a successful arrest will be made available.

The following article appears in the evening edition of The Paragon Herald on Friday, 21st September 2007;

Remembering The Controversy - What Next For The Militia?

Text of the article;
Remembering The Controversy - What Next For The Militia?
Article by George S. Sinclair
It’s rare that a group of super heroes falls apart as publicly as The Militia has recently been forced to do. Over the past year there have been times when it seemed obvious that the plug would be pulled on this controversial team by their sponsors after reading the endless accounts of anti-social behaviour either attributed to, or involving one or more of their members.

Except that now Wayne Securities have thoroughly washed their hands of The Militia, where does it leave the men and women who were once members? And has the news of the groups closure been met by cries of relief or disappointment by the citizens of Paragon City?

In order to gain some answers to these questions, I spoke to people in the famous inter-dimensional night club, Pocket D, where superheroes and their fans regularly gather after a hard day saving the city. “[It] sounded to me like it was all a bit too sudden to be as nice and amicable as the stories said,” one young man told me. “I think they were just thrown out like yesterdays garbage.”

The man I was speaking to was Joe Hill, a mechanic from King’s Row. He wasn’t a hero, just a guy worried about his business and the crime on the streets. I asked him how he felt about The Militia no longer being on the city streets as a registered superhero group. “Well, one less group out there trying to get the scum off the streets is bad, if you ask me.” He went on to say, “I don’t care if they had another agenda, they did good work that I heard of.”

After Joe had left, I spoke to Alice Springs, a young woman who goes by the name Bat-Hawk and is lead singer with local band, The Last Word. “The Militia were a great team!” she told me. “Even I wanted to join up because I saw directly some of the good stuff they were doing. I know I'm not much of a hero, but they could take raw talent and turn it into something special, y'know?”

After this encounter, I was fortunate enough to meet Luna Starbright, a young woman who treats the responsibility of being a superhero very seriously indeed, and who used to be a member of The Militia. I say “used to be” as Luna herself had a different view on that. When asked if she knew any of the heroes who had been a part of the group. “Know all of them well, i'm IN The Miltia.” she told me excitedly. “Wayne industries can say what they like about their super group. We [the members] have always been what made that super group, and we have no intention of stopping purely because Wayne Industries doesn't think we're marketable!”

I went on to ask her how the news from Wayne Securities about the closing of The Militia had affected her team mates. “Lots of people were surprised, and a lot of people were angry. There were a few sad people, the Militia was the only place a few people had.”

When asked what the members were doing now, Luna told me that some were still active, and working together. “Well, the thing is, we're not exactly finished. We got together again, I mean, why should we stop helping Paragon with what was already a winning team? Not having Wayne's backing doesn't make any of us any less super. We'd like to still think of ourselves as a super group. Because we're all the same people, with all the same abilities, doing a few less of the bad things, and more of the good things.”

I was then introduced to Wavekite and Silver-Steel, a winged woman and a muscular man made of silver, both of whom had also been members of The Militia. I put the same questions to them. “The Militia is made up of some of the finest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.” Wavekite said, before Silver-Steel added his own comments.

“Militia had good people.. was a good group. Some of the few people round this place I would call friends. Even family. I lost my home; my place in this city.”

“They sold our headquartes right under our feet,” Wavekite added. “our medical facilities, our labs. All gone. The group was together, and it was doing good things. The Militia saved the entire city from Clamor, and stopped that damn pumpkin giant thing. They fought for this city, bled for this city, and for each other.”

“They also died for this city…” Silver-Steel added quietly, and at this Wavekite left, seemingly with a tear in her eye.

It became clearer after my evening speaking to those people who had either been touched by The Militia, or who could count themselves among their number, that despite all the bad press this group had received during its lifetime, there was still strong support and good feeling.

The Militia were an exciting group, and a blessing to the story hungry media, but to the people on the streets they were heroes and idols, protecting them when they needed it. But, perhaps as importantly, it became clear what they meant to each other. They were family. Being together was as important as fighting together, and that is a bond which I don’t believe any disbanding can break.

((Special thanks to Joe Hill, Luna Starbright, Bat-Hawk, Wavekite, Silver-Steel, and others for putting up with George in Pocket D long enough for him to gather quotes and take some photos!))

Well, a normal webpage constructed with a couple of frames, and with a link to an in-frame forum would work well enough for that...maybe.

[ QUOTE ]
Capes belongs to Blackdove. Easiest to reach through Tempest forum.

[/ QUOTE ]

That's what I did! That Militia retrospective just didn't seem right for a newspaper, and Dove was kind enough to lend permission for using it as a Capes article.

Mind you, I wasn't sure if there was a defined interior design, so I used Newsweek as the model for mine!

Brit - Thanks mate!

Pious - No idea. Hopefully he'll be checking out this forum once the house move is over and realise that the Militia forum is broke.

*Absense* - I won't be around this Thursday evening for teams, so can someone else sort out what's going on with regards to missions, etc. Ta!!

Unfortunately, the forum used by the players with associations to The Militia has died due to a server failure with the host company.

Until they get it bak up and running again (or failing that, until we move to a new home), can I suggest that important OOC notices between Militia players and associates be posted on this therad so that at least we aren't all completely in the dark!

Apologies to everyone else!

The following article appears in the evening edition of The Paragon Herald on Friday, 15th September 2007;

Reactor Disaster Averted By Militia Heroes

Text of the article;

Reactor Disaster Averted By Militia Heroes
Story by George Sinclair
In the early hours of Thursday morning a brave band of five heroes averted what would have been a disaster for Paragon City when they stopped an attack on the Terra Volta nuclear reactor power plant by Sky Raider terrorists.

The team, made up of ex-members from disbanded super group The Militia, found out about the plan to drain the reactor of its core material from investigative reporter, Jane Hallaway.

“When I started looking into some of the strange rumours I had been hearing about the Sky Raiders, I had no idea where it would lead,” she said. “Word on the street had been that they were closing in on some big goal, and I was hoping that some heroes would assist me in my investigation. I felt sure that there was something huge going on, and I was determined to find out what.

“Thankfully, when my investigations into the Sky Raiders took an ugly turn, this bunch were around to help out.”

After searching the offices of a fake company in Skyway City which the Sky Raider’s had been using as a front for their nefarious scheming, it became clear to both Jane and these heroes that the terrorists planned to attack the Terra Volta reactor.

“When Crimson Archer told me that they had found asbestos suits and radioactive containment equipment in that office, I can barely believe the evidence, but it was true that the Sky Raiders actually intended to attack the Terra Volta reactor!” Jane said, when asked what had been found during the office raid. From the evidence which the heroes had discovered, it appeared that the Sky Raiders intend to drain the reactor core of its fuel, leaving the rest of Paragon City in the dark.

“The Sky Raiders may have planned to sell that fuel on the black market, or, even worse, they may have been planning to build a dirty bomb! Either way, Paragon City can't make it without the reactor running. Ever since the First Rikti War, the reactor's been this city's primary source of power. Without it, we can say goodbye to light bulbs, heating, and refrigerated food.” Jane told our reporter.

Speaking to Mr Jamie “Jay” Reynolds, also known as The Crimson Archer, as he left Cygnus Medical Centre in Galaxy City this morning, he spoke of the courageous actions of his team mates.

“Despite overwhelming odds, we were able to beat back the troops that the Sky Raiders had sent to secure the core material. It wasn’t an easy job, but Britanic, Wavekite, Luna and Billy all showed true grit and fought like the heroes they are to protect their fellow citizens in Paragon City.”

Asked about his attendance at the medical centre, Jay shrugged and said; “Not everyone on the mission had the ability to deal with radiation in the core room as well as some others. Both Wavekite and myself needed some additional treatment but following decontamination we’re expecting to make a full recovery.”

Well, Jay's been interviewed before, so I guess you could have Crimson Archer as a guest. We can chat about it later!

The following article appears in the morning edition of The Paragon Herald on Friday, 7th September 2007;

Militia Bought By Mystery Man

Text of the article;

Militia Bought By Mystery Man
In an unexpected move, the entire collection of equipment previously used by the recently disbanded group of heroes known as "The Militia", has been removed from public auction and purchased by a single, mystery buyer.

Following the death of Sir Michael Wayne, the reclusive of Wayne Securities, of which "The Militia" was a part, the company's Board of Directors had chosen to dispose of many of their subsidiary businesses in an effort to strengthen the core business and generate captial for a push in to new markets.

As part of this move, "The Militia", a group of heroes with a rocky history of murder and vigilantism, which was recently revealed in a leaked letter to have been owned and funded by Wayne Securities, was to have been disbanded and their amassed equipment sold to the highest bidder.

However, in a surprising u-turn, the Directors have anounced that the lot will now be sold to a private, unnamed individual. When approached for a quote, we were told that the Directors were unavailable for comment.

Just started a Kin/Rad Defender and I have to admit, I'm giggling!

The Rad Blast secondary seems to have a very low end cost at the lower levels, as well as a really fast recharge, so I'm running about spamming attacks feeling like a blaster!

The Kinetic additions of buffing my damage/debuffing the enemies, and adding a little heal is also great.

I'm not into the numbers, but for simple fun value as your first Defender, I'd give it a go. Kin/Rad. Can't comment how it grows over the levels though.

Out of curiousity, would it be useful to have an article somewhere on Rhode Island's general laws? Stuff like ages and permission for drinking, marriage, sex, gun ownership, etc? Or is that the real world intruding too far on the game world?

The following article appears in the September 2007 edition of "Capes" Magazine;

The Militia: Looking Back At Controversy

Text of the article;

Death of a Super Team
The Militia: Looking Back At Controversy

It was announced this month that the controversial super-group known as “The Militia” were being disbanded by their corporate sponsors. As expected, this was meet by cheers, as the group’s recent history has been dominated by tales of murder, vigilantism, deception and lies. But what was the truth behind these flawed heroes? I delved into the archives in an attempt to piece together the whole picture, and to trace the path that led to the downfall of a super team.

It all started in the summer of 2006. A rich industrialist gazed from his penthouse window, seeing streets of chaos and mayhem. Fearing that this rising tide of crime would engulf the city, he drew together a team of young and inexperienced heroes; The Militia. After speaking to several former members of The Militia, it became clear to me that the seeds of the group’s demise were sewn even in those righteous beginnings. The industrialist who founded the team hid himself from his own members behind the name “The Minister”, and used his vast resources and wealth to uncover the secret identities of these heroes he had selected, so that he could coerce them into joining his team. Not exactly the way the Freedom Phalanx were formed...

Despite their less than auspicious start, the newly formed Militia had many early successes. Throughout June and July 2006, The Militia brought both Ziggurat escapee Dr Vahizlok, and the rebuilt Clockwork King, to justice. The team also earn the respect of Synapse when they succeed in reducing to scrap the Clockwork King’s most deadly creation, the mechanical behemoth known as Babbage.

Unfortunately, in August 2006 it all started to go wrong for The Militia. Firstly, their team mate Dragonfly was revealed to the group as a murderer and fugitive from the law in her home country. The Militia choose to assist the young woman in clearing her name, but not before the team had began to receive their bad reputation, and further murders are allegedly committed by the heroes.

Throughout September 2006, the team fought to clear their names, in the process revealing they had been set-up by crime syndicate “The New Mafia”, who had kidnapped The Minister and learnt many of the team’s secrets. Following a titanic battle between the two groups, the name of The Militia was finally cleared and The Minister was rescued. However, in the aftermath The Minister’s identity was uncovered., and he was revealed to be Sir Michael Wayne, CEO of Wayne Securities and Michael Wayne Industries. This puts a strain of the relationship between Sir Michael Wayne and his team, and he chooses to create a distance between himself and The Militia.

With a greater autonomy, The Militia was able to improve its reputation, and forge ties with other super groups in the city. Fortunes continue to change for the team, as they are hailed as “true heroes” following the televised defeat of a giant supernatural beast in Galaxy City, during the “Trick or Treat” Halloween invasion of October 2006. The Militia was credited with preventing the destruction of several city blocks, and given a riotous reception by the local residents.

This euphoria and fame doesn’t last for the team though, as associate team member Nightsparrow is killed in an explosion and in a separate incident Sabrina San, the woman known as Dragonfly, is hunted once again for murder. Follow these new allegations the entire team is investigated after they allegedly assisting in Dragonfly’s escape. The Militia is eventually clears its name by being complicit in her capture and arrest, although their reputation is tarnished yet again.

During the following months, The Militia finds itself in the media for reasons both good and bad. Their involvement in the “Heroes for People” campaign first sees derision and then approval. Working along side the Paragon City Protectors, they assist in derailing a bomb plot by noted anti-mutant terrorist group, Humanity First, although not without loss of life as one of the bombs explodes. Another member of The Militia, the seemingly resurrected Melanie Kraft, also known as the vigilante Nightsparrow, is tried for murder, but is herself killed in an explosion before the trials end. Considering the earlier explosion which was supposed to have led to her death, this is considered by many to be a further attempt by a Militia member to escape justice.

Incidents of this type continue throughout the rocky and tempestuous history of The Militia. From further murder allegations levelled at new member Silver Eagle, to the kidnapping of Militia members, it becomes clear that these heroes are life’s fall guys. It is hardly surprising that when Wayne Securities were looking to streamline their business following the tragic death of Sir Michael Wayne during the recent Rikti invasion, they looked to disband The Militia and reclaim the investment in their former CEO’s pet project. A drain on their profits and a publicity right off, it seems to have been an inevitable choice.

But where does that leave the men and women of The Militia? Throughout their many troubles and tribulations, their accusations and strife, they have continued to be seen on the streets of Paragon City, fighting crime and protecting its citizens. While the team itself may be no more, let us hope that some of the individual heroes, still undefeated after all that their former group had to weather, will continue in the mission that originally united them. To serve and protect the citizens in our City of Heroes.

Article by George S. Sinclair.

It's really just an idea at the moment, I didn't have any plans to set up a regular poker night just yet!

However, I shall investigate the quickest vs. the easiest ways to do this, and let people know if I start a limited trial to test things out.

But that's not to stop anyone else from trying!