Dr_Molotov

I used to be a Defender, and an alt-oholic.
For the sake of completeness I made one of each ATs in CoV. The last one was a Brute.
My brute is now level 20, and I cannot stop. It is everything I always wanted my Dark Defender to be and then more. There is just such raw physicality to being a brute, that everytime I am done with a session I feel like I just had a workout. Plus, the joy of not having to hold anything back, to relish the pain and the challenge of taking the brunt of the enemies attacks, helping my team mates stay alive if it's the last thing I SMASH before falling flat on my face. Ah yes, I am having an absolute blast being a Brute.
(and who said that you cannot be subtle with a Brute -- using my dark powers to declaw my opponents is a bit like surgery, only I don't use anesthesia. By the way, for the sake of completeness, I should say that I am having a blast playing all of the CoV ATs, kudos to the devs).

Now, back to more murder and mayhem, revenge is a dish best served Hot!

Accel, living in a flux.

Role-Player lite -- all the fun, none of the guilt.

Don't be spooked if you see me talkig to NPCs and mumble to myself, and feel free to join me

Sometimes I dream. Sometimes I live in a dream. Sometimes my dreams spill out of me and into the world, like the breath that keeps me alive.

My name… I don’t have a name, but you can call me Wisp. I know very little about my origins. I grew up in an orphanage in Yakutia. I used to watch the ice paint rainbows on the window panes, and seal them shut. I used to watch the steam of my breath linger in the air, drawing figures that would slowly dance away. I used to dream watching those figures. Then, one day, as I was looking at my breath I started to daydream. I was thinking of a woman, an actress that I had seen on the TV a few days before. I was fourteen, and I could not shake her image off my mind. It was like a trance, and then something started to happen. The little cloud of my breath started to shimmer, to look less rarified. Colors started to tinge the cloud, first timidly, then with more substance. The wisp of steam started to change into a voluptuous figure, dancing before my eyes. I thought I saw her wink, and then it all disappeared. I was alone again. I did not want to be alone.

Fast forward to the future. The future is Paragon City, the future is now. My dreams follow me, my dreams and my nightmares. Wisps of dreams, breathed into the world. They bring fear in the heart of villains, comfort in the heart of those in need. I paint the darkness in vibrant colors, and dream for all to see.

(to be continued)

My body is in a flux. If you can call this a body.
I have been “living” in this containment armor since the day of the accident. But let me start from the beginning – or perhaps I should say let me start from the end.
I was a safety specialist at the test site for the new neutrino accelerator. A fancy name for a job that basically consisted of sitting in a room full of monitors and alarms, watching the soft yellow glow of the dials pulse up and down below some critical level. A very hypnotic pattern, day after day, night after night. When I woke up, I could not feel my body anymore…
Nobody knows what happened, nobody knows how it happened. Perhaps some sort of chain reaction. The alarms never went off. Perhaps it was all too fast.
They tell me that after the flash they sent a special team of superhero to see if there were any survivors. They came in with their force fields, and found no one – an eerie sight; everything was virtually immaculate, sterile, unnaturally clean. The corridors, the furniture, all had a patina as if bleached by years under the sun. They say they found me lying on the floor, a glowing, pulsating form of energy in the shape of a man. They say that they had to wrap me in several layers of force fields to keep me from wisping into thin air.
I don’t know if any of this is true. When I woke up, I was in a containment unit. A fairly small metallic enclosure with one very thick window, beyond which I could “see” someone in a lab coat staring at me. I tried communicating, but had no voice. I waited, waited, waited. I could not sleep, I wasn’t hungry.
I started feeling the confines of this new body. Or rather, the lack of confines. I felt the flux, the wave, the quiet pulse. I could expand and shrink, change the frequency of my being. I still had a sense of self, though some days I got lost in that sense of infinity, lost at the center of my being. I waited, and waited. And practiced.
One day I saw great excitement behind the glass, my only connection with the outside world. Then the door opened. Beyond the door a force field manipulator, a tanker, two assistants, and the man with the lab coat. They all came inside my space, and left an open armor on the floor. They pointed to the armor, pointed to the opening at the neck. They invited me to get inside the armor. I did so, I pored my self inside that empty vessel. Afterwards, they put on the helmet, and sealed it shut. I waited…
For the first time in a long time I felt as though I had a body again. I tried standing up, clumsily at first, then with greater certainty. I “looked” around. I could see clearly, my vision limited only by the confines of my visor. I tried to reach outside the armor. I did, and my visitors quickly scrambled for the exit, a look of fear on their faces. I was alone again…

(to be continued...)