Dante

Hi guys! Amber here. It'd be cool to hit the streets with you on Tuesday if you need some more firepower. Remeber to pack your earplugs!

Hi chaps. Firstly, the bad news, I won't be able to make it on Thursday so Amber will be absent I'm afraid (there'll be a good reason for it, posted in her diary).

So if some people are going to be around on Tuesday, I will try and look you up. Amber's at lvl5 at the moment so will need a bit of a boost to get up to 7 which I believe was the limit set last Thursday. I hoping that the limit this week will not be too high as I will have to play catch up.

Hope to see you Tuesday if we all make it.

One last thing: teams can only be a maximum of eight people. If we're asking for two of each AT, we'll end up with ten people on Charlie team, meaning a potential spill over into a Delta team.

Hi all. I wrote this due to getting back into RPing one of my favourite toons again recently. Apologies for length, I didn't intend it to come out so long. Let me know if you think I should write more.

P.S. Before I get flooded, yes I know that the name Anathema is used elsewhere in CoH. She was one of my first characters before I came across it but by then it was too late. Besides, I love it as a girl's name, blame Terry Pratchett.


Absolution
----------

There was a faint squeak coming from the skirting boards as Father Thomas moved the lectern back into its proper place for Sunday morning. Mice, he thought with irritation, that’s all we need. The old church was in a sorry state of disrepair as it was, infestation with mice would only add more to the bill for restoration. At least we have proper church mice, he thought, smiling. As he extinguished the candles spread around the crumbling building he noticed movement in the corner of the room. Squinting in the poor light, he saw a figure dash into the confession booth near the entrance to the church. It wasn’t uncommon for people to come late for confession, wishing to avoid the rest of the public with their regular tales of woe. Promising to lock up the church quickly after this one, he smoothed out his robes and took up his usual spot in the opposite booth. Taking a deep breath, he slid the shutter to one side.

“How can I help you, my child?” he asked.

On the opposite side of the ornate grill he heard a similar deep breath and saw a trembling hand brushing through bright green hair.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned,” came the required response. “It’s been… I… I’ve never been to confession father.”

The priest allowed the pause as the woman on the other side collected her thoughts.

“I’ve never really needed it until now,” she said.

“Tell me what is troubling you” said the priest with his customary patience. He’d been hoping for an early night and this sounded like it was going to be a long one. But he was good at caring for his flock and this woman sounded like she needed to spill everything.

“I..I used to be a surgeon,” came the reply. “I worked with the university, developing new surgical implants for people so that they could lead normal lives again. I really loved my job.” There was a sudden warmness to her voice and Father Thomas could tell that she was smiling.

“I thought I was really making a difference, improving people’s lives. That was before he found me.” There was a heavy emphasis on the ‘he’, that sounded like she wanted to spit the word out.

“A lover?” ventured Father Thomas.

“Good heavens no!” replied the woman, almost amused by the statement. “No, he said he wanted to know more about my work. Said that he would be able to fund my research, free from university regulations. It was my work he was interested in, not me.”

“And you wanted this?”

“Of course,” she answered. “Who wouldn’t? Universities always want to stick their nose in, to take credit for your discoveries before you get a chance to capitalise on them. He was offering me a chance to work on my own with a huge budget and to keep my rights to my findings. I would have been crazy to turn him down.”

There was a brief pause as she considered her next sentence.

“Of course, if I had of known what he was planning, I would never have got involved,” she said, barely above a whisper. “He wanted me to continue working on implants, not just ordinary ones, but devices that would enhance human performance, almost as if we were going to improve on nature. He’d already made vast leaps in his research before he found me. I was just improving on his work.”

“And so you started working for him?” asked the priest. He could tell that this was genuine for once. Some of the people he saw knew the routine, came in to flagellate themselves for something and then be given penance. No, he knew that the real confessions were far more than just feeling lustful or angry, they went a lot deeper than that.

The woman was silent. For a moment, Father Thomas wondered whether she had gone but he could still see the green hair on the other side of the grill and her laboured breathing.

“Yes,” came the whisper from the other side. After another breath came, “He brought me…volunteers.” The word was heavy with meaning. “He said that they had agreed to try these new devices. He made me fit them. The people were always anesthetised when they came in. I just did the work. I never saw them again.”

“So you don’t know if they were successful?”

“He always said they were,” she said. “He was always congratulating me on my work. Told me that together we would defeat death itself. I almost believed him.”

“But?”

There was a long pause.

“You know when people go missing, they stick their faces on the side of milk cartons?” she said quietly.

“I do,” came the reply.

“There was a face on mine,” she said.

There was a soft sigh before she spoke again. Each word was like a stake being removed from her heart.

“I had operated on him that morning…”

Father Thomas paused while he tried to take in what she was saying. He didn’t need to. His tortured guest did it for him.

“The boy had been snatched from the streets. He wasn’t a volunteer. I asked at the police station, they said he’d been gone for only a week. I asked him about it, asked him to explain. He just told me that the end justified the means, as if he was proud of it!”

Her voice became frantic. “I said I was going to go to the police, tell them everything. He didn’t even look surprised. Just said that I should see something. He took me down into the basement to a room with a rusty steel door. When he opened it, he pushed me inside and slammed it behind me. I remember him shouting, ‘Now see what you have wrought!’”

She took a deep breath. “When I looked around, I realised that it was a freezer room but instead of meat, there were clear body bags hanging from the ceiling. And inside each and every one were the bodies of the people I’d worked on…”

She paused here, the sudden surge of grief catching her unawares. He heard a sharp inhalation of breath and realised that she had been crying. He waited patiently for her to continue.

“He left me in there for hours,” she said eventually. “Some other people came and pulled me out just as I was about to freeze. I couldn’t fight them, I didn’t have the strength. I remember being tied to stretcher and wheeled into an operating room. I couldn’t move. They’d sedated my body, but I could still see, still hear, still feel… I felt the pain as they started to cut into my body…”

She stopped for a second. Father Thomas said, “If you want, we can stop.”

“No,” she replied with determination, “you have to hear the rest. Then you have to forgive me… He took me apart. Took all the parts he needed. My arm. My eye. Parts of my legs, anything he needed from inside of me. I wanted to pass out from the pain but I couldn’t. And he did it himself. He looked into my eyes and I couldn’t see a trace of remorse.”

“But, you are ok now?” said Father Thomas hopefully.

“A hero came to save me,” she said. “My tormentor fled with the rest of them, leaving me to bleed to death. When I awoke, it was three weeks later. I was in hospital on life support. Ironically, the devices that I had made to improve people’s lives eventually saved mine. When I returned to my research, I was able to make improvements, refine old ideas, make myself better than I was before he got his filthy hands on me.”

“Do you have family who could help you?” asked the priest.

“I have no family,” she said bitterly. “And now thanks to him… I never will…”

There was a sound of creaking leather and metal. Father Thomas was able to see through the grill where the woman had clenched her shiny right hand. It was clearly artificial.

“So now I’m going to go and kill him,” she said. “He makes those bodies walk around like zombies. I’ve seen them, a mockery of life. I’m going to put them out of their misery and make sure he burns in Hell.” Her voice dropped suddenly. “But before I do, I need to know that I’m forgiven.”

The priest took in a deep breath. He considered what to say to this poor woman that would make her feel better.

“My child,” he started, “It is not our place to take life. You did so without knowing, deceived into something far more nefarious. If you destroy this man, you become as bad as him, worse by actively wanting his death. You cannot live your life in guilt for how he misled you. There is nothing to forgive you for.”

Silence descended in the booth. All he could hear was laboured breathing through damaged lungs. He hoped that he had talked her out of her insane ideas of revenge.

“Nothing to forgive?” she said.

“No,” he replied.

There came the unmistakeable sound of a shotgun being primed.

“Then I’d better go find something to be forgiven for,” she said.

There was a rustle of fabric and he knew that she had gone. He darted outside to see a pale, thin woman walking back down the aisle, an assault rifle by her side. She heard him step out and stopped. She didn’t turn.

“Don’t try to save me Father,” she said. “I can’t be saved, I am a pariah. I am anathema.”

And with that she strode out of the church. Silenced, Father Thomas stood, almost pitying the man whom she sought. Death for him would not be swift, he thought. He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice until the hand grasped him around the neck. Unable to move, let alone breath in the iron grip, he could do nothing to see who had crept up behind him. The voice, when it spoke, was deep, rich and calm.

“So our little chicken has come home to roost it appears,” it said. “Well let her come. She thinks her patchwork body can match my creations? She is an amateur, I am the master. This time, I will finish the job.”

On the periphery of his vision, Father Thomas saw a scalpel blade come into view. The voice spoke again.

“As for you Father,” it said, “Tell me, are you a registered organ donor?”


FIN

Oh and I believe a brief bio was requested:

The Amber Banshee
Real Name: Saffron Mackenzie
Age: 17
Occupation: Student

Discovered her amazing voice due to a mugging, has been hiding it from her family ever since. He father, a bio-weapons developer, went missing five months ago and Saffron wants to find out what happened. The letter from the Minister suggested that they might know. Has a cousin who is already in the field as a hero but he doesn't approve of her doing the same.

Extracts from the Diary of Saffron Mackenzie, The Amber Banshee

Thursday 25 May 2006

Well, I did it. I went to where these Militia people were going to meet up to see what they wanted from me. They seemed to be expecting me but no-one seemed to know much about the letters that we’d all been sent. I may have to ask this guy on the team who seems to be a private investigator. I’ll bet he’s the suspicious type although he seemed a little pessimistic to me.

It seems that the intent of this Minister dude is to put together some sort of supergroup though what he wants out of us is still unclear. But they’re a nice bunch, when I got lost, they came looking for me. Brother Tchall is really sweet. I think he’s a monk of some kind, very deep.

What was really scary though was that we ended up fighting the Council! I was so scared. After all Andrew had told me about them, I thought they’d kill us but they didn’t seem to be too much of a challenge. I guess he likes to fight them on his own, what with what they did to him and all.

I don’t think I was heard getting back in tonight. I need to get my own place as soon as I can. Nothing was mentioned about Dad. I wonder what they know…

Got to agree with all the above. It was an absolutely superb experience, the type that I value after a year of playing and makes the game fresh again. Thanks to everyone for making it such a fun time.

Amber was mostly shy and quite scared, especially against the Council due to previous family history. But everyone in Team A took good care of her especially when she got lost on way to the mission. It was fun to play a character who is quite young and innocent in comparison to some of my other, more screwed up toons. Amber's diary is up in the Militia thread.

I find that I've spent too much time in the Hollows recently so I am quite happy to take missions elsewhere. I'll try to get there a little earlier next week but no promises.

I think I'd have to agree regarding the Friday/Saturday timing. I don't think it's suitable. In terms of time, I think that 7:30 - 9:30 might be better as there's still people at GG at 9:30 and a 7:30 start allows people more time to get in, eat and sort out things before settling down into the game. I don't think we can worry too much about it now, as you said, we'll see how it goes.

As for mission lengths, yes, they will get ridiculously long later on so that's something we'll have to think about as we approach them, especially if we elect to undertake a taskforce one night (that will probably turn into a morning... ). As we (hopefull) expand, we may well end up forming teams of those who can afford the time. Again, I offer this up to the "We'll see how this goes".

Pious, I think that seems to be a fair summary of everything. If people are feeling creative, we can always add details of character story arcs under the Militia thread or even in the creative section.

Right, six hours and counting. See you there!

All sounds good to me. It looks like we've already done all the admin stuff beforehand so we can just dive in. I guess we'll deal with story arcs when they happen really. We can choose which one we fancy on the night. Hope to see you all there.

A grand read. I quite liked the mythic references (always loved Enkidu) and the fact that she's almost a tragic character in that by taking these kids in, she's almost being charitable in a twisted way. Nice imagery too.

I think I may have to have one of my lot down at Galaxy City at 7 then. Look forward to seeing you there.

They all sound good. I'd say, look at the demographic of the team so far and see what fits. In the end, go with gut instinct.

As for playing a woman, it's not as hard as you may think. I have just as many female alts as male, so it's nice to have variety. If you're worried about "maleness" coming through into the character, you can always just make the character a bit masculine herself.

As I understand it, we're all meeting at Atlas Park, under the sky reaching statue on 0 xp. No Outbreak, nothing. Right from scratch.

Add me to the list of people getting rather excited about this.

Glad to know I'm not alone there Wonka. I've been going for almost a year now and none of mine have got above 16! I think it's mainly to do with having too many ideas for characters and the trying to play them all at the same time. Gods help me when CoV arrives later this week...

Battleflag, glad to know the emphasis is on pure, fun gaming. I'm looking forward to building experience and trying out this new powerset but having fun roleplaying as well. I have thought of a story arc for my character but as you said, we'll see how it goes.

That's a genius idea. It means that we can still remain active outside of the team but stay within reasonable levels of each other. Although I reckon we should all start on Thursday with 0 xp, just to get us off to a good start.

As for powerlevelling, I agree that if you get a good team, the xp can fly by. Sadly, these seem few and far between these days. I'm hoping our team will be a nice blend of both, good xp but with a bit of time for chat and roleplay.

Although I agree in principle, I can forsee future sessions where members of the team are at vastly different levels depending on how much time people have to play. And although we may be able to get around it with exemplaring and sidekicking, it may prove troublesome in the future.

I'm open to people's opinion on this but I can understand the rationale for restricting time to Thursdays only. (But trust me, I'm itching to get started...!)


(btw, great avatar...)

[ QUOTE ]
I like the idea of a "weekly mission". With characters meeting on a mnore regular basis in between. I do think people are complicating matters somewhat, a pool of 16 players is a much nicer idea than 2 seperate teams of 8.

So it's Thursday night for those that can makje it, another night to be arranged for those that can't. I myself can normally do both nights so...

[/ QUOTE ]

Goes without saying Finn29. And the same for me...

Real life conflicts are totally understood. My best night to be on is Monday but fortunately I can do Thursdays as well. If all goes well, there's nothing to say that a similar group can meet up on a different night. I guess we'll see how it goes.

It's all getting so confusing! I prefer Mondays as I can make a commitment to being there more regularly. However, I have said I will do Thursday so that's no problem. I can be on either team that'll have me.

The Amber Banshee is a sonic/power manip. blaster.

Good range of heroes so far, it's going to be interesting.

The Amber Banshee
------------------

The envelope hit the table with a dull slap. Saffron looked up from where she was eating breakfast, unsure what to make of it. “So who’s sending you big, important packages?” asked Mrs MacKenzie to her daughter.

“No idea mum,” replied Saffron, ripping it open. However, once she caught sight of the letter’s opening line, she shoved it roughly back inside.

“Oh, it’s more stuff from the University,” she said, lying through her teeth. “They’ve taken to posting me coursework these days.”

Saffron’s mother said nothing, she just nodded in acceptance. She knew as well as anyone the trials that her daughter had been going through in the past year. And now that Brian had gone, who knew how Saffron would cope. She watched her daughter run upstairs with her package and thought no more about it. His disappearance at such a trying time in her life was very trying for them both. She wondered what type of woman her daughter was turning into…

Saffron reached her room, reading through the papers. Then she read them again. It still didn’t make sense, how did they know? She felt bad for lying to her mother, but then again, it wasn’t a complete lie. Ever since her dad had gone missing five months ago, the university had been very understanding in allowing her time off. But this letter was a bolt from the blue. Someone, somehow knew about what she had been up to. How, she asked herself. She had been so careful…

A little under a year ago, Saffron had been coming back from town with her older brother, Mark when they had been jumped by the Skulls. The Skulls were a major pain in Kings Row but as long as they got your wallet, the trouble normally ended there. But Mark, trying to prove his manhood by defending his kid sister had tried to fight them. There had been a brief tussle, followed by Mark falling backwards, his gut bloody from the knife that had been plunged in there. Saffron saw the blood and screamed, her fear finding vent through her voice. Their two assailants clutched their ears, blood running from their noses as they fell to the ground, unconscious. She had been able to get Mark to the roadside where a passerby had helped them to get to a hospital. Mark survived but could not recall anything that had happened after the knife hit home.

Saffron had remained quiet about it since then, until her dad had gone missing. Finding a deserted warehouse in which to practice, Saffron had begun refining her voice. She couldn’t explain why this had happened to her, but it was a gift she was not going to turn down. Practice had enabled her to focus her voice into a weapon and it was a weapon she was intending to use. The police might not be able to find her father, but she might…

However, the envelope disturbed her. There was only one person who knew about her adventures at night, her cousin, Andrew. Although he preferred not to be called that these days as the family did not know he was still alive, existing under the name of Tenebrae. It was unlikely that the rest of the family would understand that he was now half-vampyri. She had promised to keep his secret as long as he did the same for her. So this Minister person certainly couldn’t have got the information from him. So how did they know? Why did they want to press her into service for them? Who would she meet at this assembly she’d been invited to? Questions, questions and not enough answers. There was only one thing to do, and that was to go and find out. She took one last look at the letter then shoved it on top of her wardrobe, where no-one ever went.

She tried to put the letter out of her mind until the day to meet but the last sentence rang in her head, “We know about your father…”

It was too tempting an opportunity to miss…

I just wanted to clarify something: If we're aiming to make a full team, surely that means a maximum of eight members, not ten? Sorry, I've only just realised that and it's been bugging me...

On another point, almost all my characters are designed for roleplaying so if there is going to be another group which does not start from level 1, any of my lot would love to join up. They're all between 11-16 mainly due to chronic altitis...

Monday nights are best for me.

Yeah, I've got to go with Leif on this one. We should keep is simple but we should also be respectful of the game mechanics and respond to them in character. For example, if someone is a magor aggro generator then we will need to speak with them and get them to tone it down. If someone keeps dying, then we will need to respond to their problem IC as well. For example, if the controllers or blasters are constantly getting whacked, then we will need to see if they position themselves badly or ask if the healers are concentrating their efforts in the right place or even if the scrappers and tankers are doing their job keeping aggro away from the weaker members. I do agree that it would be wonderful to see self-sacrifice and all those other things that come from a solid rp group but I think that will emerge in time as we play and relationships develop. But kudos for respecting the game engine, I hate it when people get so flippant about dying, it wrecks any good roleplaying mood.

As for other teams, I tend to be around Monday nights a lot so if this idea catches on and people want to form their own IC mission teams, I am sure that any of my alts would be more than pleased to sign up. Just call me a sucker for teaming.

Last night ended at 4:15. What was I thinking?

I'm sometimes around after 2:00 but normally either weekends or Mondays. If any of mine are around on Union, they'll likely be IC.

I guess this trumps the question I was going to post this morning: are we only using these characters on Thursday night team ups? I can see that some people who have more time would end up many levels higher than those who have less time and that would make teaming difficult. (Or just annoying e.g. sidekicking, exemlparing all the time.)

On a lighter note, loving the bios so far. I'm just tweaking mine some more so that she fits in with my other character's storylines on Union. Looks like it's going to be an interesting team...!