Ex_Libris

The only one I can think of is for my Inv/SS Tank chick, Irresistible, Her Song is Simply Irresistible by Robert Palmer.

Basically groups are should now be similar to the ffxi groups which were 1-2 lvls apart. Also with this patch it just slowed down exp so it could maybe make people stay in the game longer because now it will take longer to lvl, thus increasing the longevity of the game maybe.

Many great posts here. Lots of good solid reasoning.

Gecko,

here are the main three problems with your constant nerfs and changes:

1) it is IMPOSSIBLE to plan and develop a character
2) it is NOT popular with the majority of your customers
3) see #1 and #2

I have had the day off today and havent logged in once. Two patches ago, I would have been on for about 4-5 hours.

Get my drift?


Regards,
Captain Beyond

"Here we are," announced the Trollkin Leader as he indicated a 5 story building that still stood, more or less intact. Still attached to the face of the building was a damaged and faded sign that read Harlandia Auction House. Clustered about the front door, going through drills, was a squad of 5th Column soldiers.

"Ohhh, that's your home?" Lobe asked the Trollkin, pointing at the front doors.

"Yes it is, my large friend. And it seems as though not only have we locked ourselves out, but those evil 5th columnists have taken up residence." The Trollkin leader looked devastated. Behind him and Lobe the others struggled to keep from snickering.

A look of concern crossed Lobe's face, "Oh don't you worry Mr. Brown. Lobe not let them take your home, no siree, nope. I will just go down there and ask them to leave, yup, that's what I'll do."

"But Lobe. They aren't terribly friendly folk you know. They'll probably attack you on sight!" The Trollkin leader warned him with feigned concern.

"Well, then that is their mistake. Lobe not easy to beat, nope." and with that he started walking through the rubble towards the building.

"We can't leave you to face them alone big guy. We're coming with you." the leader smiled back at his minions and they followed in Lobe's wake. One large Trollkin with a recent welt growing on the entire side of his face whispered, "*%$#*'n rights!" Those around him immediately gave him more space and sent fearful glances towards Lobe's back.

The leader snapped his head back at the speaker and hissed, "You moron! Touch your face and tell me you've already forgotten what happened the last time you swore around Lobe. If you screw this up...." the unspoken threat hung in the air as the trollkin who had spoken touched his face and winced. He nodded aquiescence and deliberately clamped his mouth shut. Lobe walked on, unaware of the exchange.

[ QUOTE ]
Speaking as a level 16 gravity controller, I have to say I didn't see an enormous amount of difference last night after the patch even while grouping in Boomtown with my SG. It was already pretty difficult for us teen-level controller types to hold mobs too far in advance of us and the magnitude system makes it difficult for us to hold bosses anyway, but I was holding red lieutenants with about the same effectiveness as usual. Maybe y'all're just coming to live in our world now.

[/ QUOTE ]

That is pretty much what happened, as far as I can tell. Everyone is now fighting where they should be (to a degree) and they are unhappy with being "gimped" down to fighting like controllers/defenders.

Ok, I fixed my G key, thanks to Blue Volt's comment on Powexec_Abort, and my Ground setup is working great. Several people have asked me, so I'll post my latest here. I haven't tested fly/hover, because I can't, but with Ground working so sweet, and Air being almost the same, I think the following bind will work. If somebody with Fly want's to try it, could you please post some feedback here?


Changes from my last post: I added 2 new files for "traveling" aka autorun. While I still just use 1 key to go into autotravel - R - from whichever mode I'm in (ground or air), I use these 2 new files so that I can reprogram ALL the movement keys to cancel autotravel. I've found that in practice, having to hit a single key to cancel it requires too much accuracy because during travel I often don't even have my hand on the keyboard. This new setup makes all movement keys cancel travel mode and return to either air or ground, where you started.



Keybinds.txt:

g "powexec_name hover$$powexec_name fly$$powexec_name sprint$$powexec_name sprint$$powexec_abort$$bind_load_file c:\ground.txt$$forward 0"
t "powexec_name sprint$$powexec_name fly$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name hover$$bind_load_file c:\air.txt$$forward 0"

e "+forward$$powexec_name sprint"
s "+left$$powexec_name sprint"
f "+right$$powexec_name sprint"
d "+backward$$powexec_name sprint"
space "+up"
lshift+space nop
r "autorun 1$$powexec_name sprint$$powexec_name sprint$$bind_load_file c:\GTravel.txt"


Ground.txt

e "+forward$$powexec_name sprint"
s "+left$$powexec_name sprint"
f "+right$$powexec_name sprint"
d "+backward$$powexec_name sprint"
space "+up"
lshift+space nop
r "autorun 1$$powexec_name sprint$$powexec_name sprint$$bind_load_file c:\GTravel.txt"


GTravel.txt

e "forward 0$$powexec_name sprint$$bind_load_file c:\Ground.txt"
s "forward 0$$powexec_name sprint$$bind_load_file c:\Ground.txt"
f "forward 0$$powexec_name sprint$$bind_load_file c:\Ground.txt"
d "forward 0$$powexec_name sprint$$bind_load_file c:\Ground.txt"
space "+up"
lshift+space nop
r "forward 0$$powexec_name sprint$$bind_load_file c:\Ground.txt"


Air.txt

e "+forward$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name fly"
s "+left$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name fly"
f "+right$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name fly"
d "+backward$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name fly"
space "+up$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name fly"
lshift+space "+down$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name fly"
r "forward 1$$up 1$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name fly$$powexec_name fly$$bind_load_file c:\ATravel.txt"


ATravel.txt

e "forward 0$$up 0$$powexec_name fly$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name hover$$bind_load_file c:\Air.txt"
s "forward 0$$up 0$$powexec_name fly$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name hover$$bind_load_file c:\Air.txt"
f "forward 0$$up 0$$powexec_name fly$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name hover$$bind_load_file c:\Air.txt"
d "forward 0$$up 0$$powexec_name fly$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name hover$$bind_load_file c:\Air.txt"
up "forward 0$$up 0$$powexec_name fly$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name hover$$bind_load_file c:\Air.txt"
lshift+space "forward 0$$up 0$$powexec_name fly$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name hover$$bind_load_file c:\Air.txt"
r "forward 0$$up 0$$powexec_name fly$$powexec_name hover$$powexec_name hover$$bind_load_file c:\Air.txt"

Good Luck, and if you use these and they work (or especially if they don't) please take a minute to post your results here.

Supergroup Name: GenericSG25
Fomerly called "Hookers Saving Lives"

I guess Paragon didn't appreciate our method of saving lives.

Leaders: Madam Rage
Recruiting Officers: MistressInferno, MistressJanedo, and John Wayne

Preferred Methods of Contact: In Game Email

Infinetly better than the built in "help." This needs a sticky.

I am another who hates this patch.
I play 2 tanks lvl16, 1 Defender lvl19 and a blaster lvl12, I have been swapping chars for a while now and have been really enjoying myself with this game (in my opinion worth every penny of the monthly fee)

However, in the space of 24 hours the developers have managed to destroy my gaming expirience, given excessive debt to all my chars and generally pissed me and my gaming friends off.

Last night I watched with my defender while a lvl19 scrapper, 20 tank and 3 balsters tried to kill 1 lvl25 outcast - the battle was a standoff, I stood there for 15 mins until the team got pissed off and ALL logged out.

Please fix this patch ASAP or you will loose countless players for both COH and the new COV before its release date.

Once again, this patch is [censored]

Jimmy_The_Saint

Well..... I'm not exactly sure what you want help with. Looks to me like you got pretty much everything taken care of that you need.

Are you asking us to write your background for you? You've got the background, it just isn't in story format.

Rook:

The snow storm outside of Rook's apartment was beginning to pick up strength. The strong winds made it seem as if the city itself was one white mass of snow. Those who still remained in the streets hurried to get to their destination as the storm seemingly began to grow stronger and stronger.

The cold and bitter sting of the cold resembled the feeling rushing through Rook's body as he clenched the phone tightly.

"Ello Rook....its relly been ages since the IRA has 'eard from ye...we've been brutally worried about ye.", said Rose, an IRA assassin in a cold, sarcastic tone.

"How'd ye find me...", said Rook in a soft voice.

Rose laughed aloud as if she was full of glee before she spoke. "Well ye've been quite the sleeveen (sly person) fer the past....who knows how many years....but how we found ye doesn't really matta. Fact is, we did find ye, ye [censored]."

Rook paced back and forth through his apartment, holding the phone in one hand and the receiver in the other.

"What de ye want frem me?", said Rook after remaining quiet for a couple seconds.

"Aww, Rook ol' pal.."said Rose as if they were best friends, "All we want is fer ye te take a lil vacashin wit us back te yer home country..."

"Ye'll hev to bloody find me' first ye gurriers...."

"Well Rook.....that won't be' too hard. Lissen, know that gurl that was at the church wit ye? Yeah, well, we hev her. And if ye don't git yer [censored] o'er here soon, she'll be in bloody flitters when we're dune wit er'."

"Who, the lil Irish hoor? Cop on now!!! (Don't be so stupid) Hev fun wit er fer all I care...", said Rook as he slammed the phone down.

Rook ran to his closet and began throwing all of his clothes in a large duffel bag. He did this for a couple minutes before he began to think.

What am I doing?.....As much as I don't like the lil Irish girl, I can't let her die at the hands of those murderers....

After pacing around the room for a couple more minutes, Rook sat on the bed and ran his hands over his face and through his thick brown hair.

Not only couldn't he let the young girl die, but he came to a even more important conclusion:

No more running.

He wouldn't run from his fears any longer. He had always been looking for a way to redeem himself in his eyes.....This was the way to do it. He would save the young girl, or die at the hands of his former employees, trying to. A wave of strength poured through his body. The fear he had been suppressing for years upon years suddenly disappeared.

He would face the greatest fear of his life.

Grabbing the phone quickly, Rook dialed *69. The phone rang twice before Rose picked back up.

"Aww, so the assassin' does hev a heart after all. Shame, we were getting the buzz-saw all warmed up....Git a pen...I don't want ye te git lost or anythin."

Thevshi:

All Bernadette knew was blackness, it seemed everywhere around her, almost as if she was floating in an empty void. Off in the distance she thought she could hear voices, so faint and muffled that she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Bernadette opened her eyes only to find more darkness. Her mind felt as if it was swimming as dizziness swept over her.

Though blurry eyes, she thought she could see the faintest source of light, a hazy line that seemed below her. She could vaguely feel that she was laying on her side on something soft. Trying to sit up, she seemed unable to move for some reason, as if her muscles did not want to obey her. She felt completely helpless, much as she had that terrible day in Belfast so many years ago.

After a few moments of trying hopelessly to sit up, Bernadette just stayed still trying to focus on the light that was still a hazy blur. A fresh wave of dizziness came over her as she shut her eyes and drifted back into the darkness.

Rook:

Two long hours had passed since Rook had spoken with the IRA on the phone.

In that time, Rook did a lot of thinking. He thought of his past, the present, and if he even had a future. He thought about how he would face his old employers and what tactics he would use in the bound to ensue fight. He would make sure the young girl’s life would be spared, and he would do his best to fight for his own life, although he would surely be outnumbered.

The thought of calling his teammates for backup never even crossed his mind. Rook had to go into this alone. He needed to fight his own demons.

He would gain his redemption.

Rook threw the letter he wrote to his teammates, explaining everything about his past and where he had gone, on his un-made bed. In it, he made sure that he relinquished all of his assets back to Team1 in the case of his death, who were his only family now.

Rook then made his way over to his closet. He threw on his brown leather jacket, a pair of black gloves and his brown work-boots. Then, with a deep sigh, Rook slowly pulled out a small box that he had hid away since the day his sister and mother died. Brushing the dust off of it, Rook stared at it for a long time. The contents inside the box held all of his dearest memories. A nearly destroyed picture of he and his mother, a small doll that his sister played with, and a small braid of his sisters blond hair. A tear streamed down his face as he stared at it, remembering all of the memories he tried to push out of his mind.

Rook tucked away the small piece of hair in his jacket and clenched onto it tightly. Slowly, Rook turned his head and glanced out the window.

The snow outside whipped around the streets faster than cars could even travel. The only prominent color was white, everything else was covered in a thick blanket of snow.

******

Rook slammed the door of his apartment building behind him. He felt for his keys, but he knew that there was no way that his classic black corvette would even dare to start up under these conditions.

Rook buried his hands into his pockets and pushed through the thick snow, the freezing winds burning his face and numbing his skin.

******

After an hour of walking, Rook strode up to what appeared to be the address to the warehouse which the IRA gave him. It was a rather large warehouse, nearly 4 stories high. Small windows were frosted with cold, and the entrance seemed indistinguishable.

Rook tensed his muscles and prepared himself for what would be the greatest confrontation of his life. His eyes flashed bright green quickly in anticipation.

Cupping his hands to his frozen mouth, he yelled aloud.

"Awright boyo's.....lets not dodder around eh? Git yer bloody ares out 'ere now!"

Rook glanced around at the other warehouses looking for the slightest movement in this thick snowstorm.

Thevshi:

Bernadette had managed to regain consciousness and stay conscious for what had seemed an eternity in the dark room that she was in. Her vision still seemed a bit blurry, but she could make out the faint light shining in from under the door. It was not enough to allow her to see what was in the room, but it gave her a point of reference.

She had shifted slightly and worked the muscles in her arms, trying to get feeling back into them. She felt too weak a first to try to do anything and when she tired to use her powers, she found she could not concentrate enough to do so. But that had started to pass as time when on, she was beginning to feel more clear headed and the blur of light was not as bad anymore.

It was not long after that she heard several voices outside in the door and then the sound of several large vehicles driving away. She lay very still for awhile, listening to see if they had all left, but then she saw a shadow cross in front of the light under the door and realized that at least a few were still here. She did not even know who they were or what they wanted with her. Feeling very strange still, she decided to wait and try to recover some more from whatever they had given her before she tired to do anything.

Sitting out in the warehouse, Kross was truly bored. He had been left behind because Rose did not want to waste his talents on the ambush. She had felt that Rook would be pretty straightforward in his tactics. So he had been left behind with a handful of IRA men to watch the girl and be ready to eliminate her if ordered too.

He sat on the chairs that they had near the old office of the warehouse watching television completely bored. He looked over to one of the IRA men as he asked. “So, ‘ow long should the lil’ lass be out fer?” The man didn’t take his eyes off the television as he replied. “Till mornin’ at least. Why?”

“Ye should go check on ‘er. She can walk through walls an’ fly, who knows what else she can do.” Kross replied with an annoyed voice. The man now turned to look at the assassin. “Why? Ye saw ‘ow scrawny she was, she will most likely be out ta mid afternoon tomorrow, light weight that she is.”

Kross glared at the man as he sat up slightly. “Don’ give me any guff, just bloody do it!”

The man frowned but stood up. “Bleedin’ fine, Shamus, yer goin’ ta come wit me.” He said as he hit another man on the shoulder. Shamus looked up with a smile. “What? Ye can’ ‘andle an’ unconscious lass? Makes me wonder ‘ow ye can ever get any there Pat.”

Pat growled and hit Shamus again. “Stop bein’ an [censored] and just git up.” Shamus stood up reluctantly as the two walked over and picked up their AK-47s from a table and stared towards the door to the storeroom.

Hearing someone approaching the door, Bernadette lay still and closed her eyes. The room flooded with light as the door swung open and the men switched on the light. She heard the door shut and the men’s footsteps approaching. “Like I bloody said, she’s out cold. Shame a pretty lil’ lass like this ‘ad ta be mixed up with the like o’ Rook.”

Bernadette’s mind raced, they were talking about Rook, and they were with out a doubt Irish, Southern from the sound of their accents. Bernadette felt a sense of cold hatred inside her. They had to be IRA, somehow here after Rook. The people who killed her mother! Here in Paragon City!

Shamus had been looking down the girl when suddenly her eyes opened up and her head snapped over to look at him. He met her gaze and hesitated, the look in her eyes was not one he would ever expect from someone as young as she, one of pure hate and anger. “She’s awa…” He started before she rolled quickly onto her back and kicked out with both legs, her feet slamming into his chest and sending him flying backward into one of the shelves in the storeroom, knocking it over and into the wall.

Bernadette quickly rolled up to her feet as she strained with arms, snapping the cuffs that bound her wrists. She then staggered as her head spun from the sudden movement and the drugs still in her system. She then felt an painful impact in her stomach, doubling over as the other man slammed the butt of his AK-47 into her stomach. He pulled it back and lifted it up and started to bring it down towards her head as she managed to concentrate enough to shift to her desolid state.

The butt of the assault rifle passed harmlessly through her as she stood back up, her stomach still in pain. Shifting back to her normal density she looked at the stunned IRA man as she said in a flat voice. “Didn’ they teach ye anythin’ about fighin’ with a rifle in hand ta hand? Ye wasted the chance ta follow up right.” Reaching out with amazing speed, Bernadette grabbed the assault rifle and pulled it away from the man’s grasp. She then flipped it down and drove the butt into the man’s stomach, doubling him over with the impact. No sooner had she hit him in the stomach than she lifted her right hand while dropping her left and driving the butt of the weapon up under the man’s chin as his head came down. The impact snapped his head back and sent him flying back onto the ground, a couple of teeth coming out of his mouth along with a lot of blood.

Standing over him for a moment, she looked down with a hard look on her face. “That’s bloody ‘ow ye fight with a rifle.” Dropping the assault rifle and looked up at the door with anger boiling up inside her. She charged towards the door as she increased her density to several tons.

Out in the warehouse, Kross heard the crash of the shelves being knocked over and stood up, targeting the room with his superhearing. “D*mn! She’s awake.” He said to the other IRA men in the warehouse. Kross sped over to the table and picked up an AK-47 as one of the IRA men who was on the opposite side of the warehouse stepped over towards the door. The door to the storeroom suddenly exploded off its hinges as the girl came charging through. She stopped about ten feet outside the storeroom, but the door continued on, smashing into the man nearby, sending him flying back into a column with a loud slam.

Kross looked at the girl, standing there, her eyes full of rage and the remains of the handcuffs still on her wrists. Well, guess superstrength is another o’ ‘er powers. He thought to himself as he lifted up the AK and took aim, not sure if this would be effective or not.

Best guide ever.

[ QUOTE ]
Decided to make her attend Bryn Mawr and study liberal arts. Then I find out that superheroes don't need college educations, just a horrible past experience to make them swear to protect the innocent.


[/ QUOTE ]

Well I'll assume you're being sarcastic. I disagree that a superhero needs a tragic background. The majority of superheros have backgrounds no more tragic then large segments of the population.

My character ElectronBlaster for example has a doctorate in robotics, and works for his father's company (which he'll someday inherit). He superhero's because it's a good way to showcase his companies capabilities, it's the right thing to do (military service is a family tradition), and most importantly... Chicks dig it.

First off, I'm going to post the Origin for Hiiigh Voltage here cause, well, my ID card space isn't big enough. (sorry I can't really write short ones!) Also, I have a little suggestion, one that might even make server load a bit lighter (or not, just an idea).

What if the character origin could be stored on each person's computer. so when someone check's ID, it downloads the text file from the person instead of the server.

This would: 1.) Allow for longer Origin stories. 2.)Remove the need for Origins to be saved on the server. 3)Be a whole lot easier for people to type it out as well as delete/change large blocks of text.

Anyways, on with the Origin! (*closes eyes and chants* please don't flame, please don't flame)

Mary reread pages browned with age; the ancient writing having been scrawled in a year not long after the Fallen Star had taken his place in the pits bellow. The magic of the robe on her table was far from demonic though through the ages it had been tagged as such by those ignorant of anything but the most base of fears. Now a pile of brown cloth, Mary sighed as she rubbed her cheek and looked to it with interest. It had been Eve's robe, the first article of clothing the woman had wrapped herself in after being thrown out of the Garden of Eden. The book listed it's origin as a gift from her God and though that smacked of untruth to Mary, she was intrigued.

Words of power pressed into the pages formed a ring around a crude drawling of the robe, notes next to each imparted the elements. Fire, water, earth, wind, life and death each with their own point and symbol. Mary was careful to copy the runes exactly as they were in the book before placing the elements on top of them. A lit candle, an opened gallon of water, a potted plant, a fan (here she paused to decide on oscillate or normal), a life rat and a dead one.

As she constructed the ring, the robe shifted colors in response to each element it's form and texture changing as well. The fire drew an ice cold blue that made the robe look as if it were frozen glass. Water caused a section of the robe to bust into flames a fire that neither smoked nor consumed cloth yet warmed Mary's skin. Cloth crackled and shifted to slide like mud as earth was set before it the mud bubbling quietly as Mary moved on. Wind caused the heavy cloth of the robe to shift to a thin wispy material what fluttered in the slight breeze. Life turned it's corner into a blackness that absorbed all light and threatened to suck Mary inward. In death the robe changed to a pure white that gave off light brighter than that of the flames but gave no heat.

In front of her the robe danced, an embodiment of each element's opposite. Her elements set, Mary stood, arms akimbo as she read the words for each element aloud. The ancient names of the first tongue caused each element to exhaust itself, fire smothered, water evaporated, plant and earth withered and crumbled, the live rat died. Mary smiled broadly as she continued the enchantment and the robe rose ever so slightly, a form shifting underneath. From under the robe a small kitten, black as life's counter element, watched Mary as the woman's grin moldered into a sneer.

Words of a strange tongue mixed with the language of the ancients that the kitten knew and anger struck in the form of an elemental attack. The robe shifted it's form to absorb the element as the kitten watched on and Mary's words changed again, her hands glowing with halos of electricity as she struck out at the animal. Bone crunched and blood rained as Mary's hand and the kitten were crushed within the robe's counter form.

Blood soaked into the cloth as Mary backed away, her voice quiet until she pulled a sharp blade from coals of the fireplace and pressed it against the stump where her hand had been. Through tears of pain and joy she watched the culmination of her spell and sacrifice form on the table; her blood, the blood of a creature bound to the robe and the robe's own essence combined.

Words rang in Mary's ears and her head swam with a rush of power as much as it did from loss of blood, "You are a creature of the first woman, a creature of my own blood and hers, of the elements and of God's grace. Go, bury those that would stand in the way of my divine right to rule!"

Shadows drifted over already pitch colored skin as golden yellow eyes watched Mary, roses turned to a smile that tugged at Mary's very soul and shortened her life to lengthen it's own as it whispered sweet promises of death in her ear. A clap of thunder and the creature was gone leaving Mary alone in her room shivering with a cold sweat rolling down her face and back.

Keeping the robe's remains close, Hiiigh Voltage wraps her face with the cloth to hide the similarities not only to Eve a woman of beauty only viewable by God and Adam, but also to ensure that no other creatures like her are created.

Few know of Hiiigh Voltage's origin but those that do are often caught off guard by her willingness to fight as a 'hero' of Paragon city. Her loyalties are unspoken though her assistance is happily accepted by most with little question. Is she truly a hero? Or a villain merely using others to help in her goal of first killing the hordes of lowly infidels? Only time will tell.

I've been using the first bind on here and with-out being able to press two keys at once I've found myself hovering quite alot ;P (sorry I just love my graceful flight in battle).

I had fly on F ever since I got the power and with the binds, I kept F there 'just in case'. If I hit two keys at once (still not got that down pat yet!) I can hit F and it sets me back just right. I also have the bind set to my C key (instead of Q) so I can turn it off and on quickly. (in case I find myself wanting to fly away quickly in office buildings or such)

It's not a true fix for the two movement button thing, but it's a quick fix and one that's worked for me.

way to screw up devs. now not only can I barely hit anything, any groups I get now suck for xp since we can only take something a couple levels above us at most. Xp sucks, you really blew it.

Your descriptions are excellent, although a bit more on you would be good. Good pacing as well - it flows nicely from one scene to the next.

I gave ya 3.75 stars.

/bump cuz its good

(Forgive the grammar errors)

The businessman stepped out of the cab with a stretch, as he paid the driver. He paid his fare, with exact change, and a modest tip of no more then 6%. His routine had never changed in the 14 years he lived in the Kings Row section of Paragon City, and he saw no reason to alter it now.

With a modest gray suit, a brisk stride, and a confident air, he walked the remaining two blocks to his home, a rent controlled penthouse apartment roughly 5 blocks south of the King Refinery.

The Businessman took little notice of his surroundings, other then note a young man lounging by the steps of the apartment building next to his own. He continued to walk but glanced at the young man, making brief eye contact. He was a Skull. The gang was everywhere in Kings Row and there colors where usually black and white, or gray. If they where up to mischief then you could identify them by the skull shaped mask they would wear.

The brief eye contact was enough to set the thug in motion.

"Evening Mr. Grey" the Skull said with a slightly mocking tone of voice.

They all called him that. Mr. Grey, because he always wore gray suits to and from work. He almost missed a stride, as he turned his head slightly at the voice.

Keep walking, he told himself. Do not stop, just keep walking, your almost home. He repeated that mantra over and over, keeping his steady pace to his home.

The Skull began walking toward him; his young legs quickly matching pace and began to slowly gain.

Mr. Grey continued his own pace. If I move to fast he will chase me, his mind screamed. He wanted to run, to be home, and to be safe. Why did he have to endure this? Why did they not just leave him alone? All he wanted was to go home and have dinner with his lovely new bride, Rebecca.

The Skulls footsteps picked up an even quicker pace. Mr. Grey slid his right hand under his jacket; he could feel his heart beating frantically. So fierce was the rhythm that he feared it would burst from his chest unless his hand was not there to hold it down.

"Hey Mr. Grey, do you need any help?" the young Skull spoke with a slightly slurred speech
"You looking for a new g.."

Mr. Grey stopped his walk and stood quivering for a moment. This was it.

"Jack! Let's go man!" A voice called out from across the street.
It was another Skull, this one wearing the full colors, mask, black leather vest and black denim. "Come on, and you better not be drunk!" He waved furiously.

"We'll talk later Mr. Grey” Jack the Skull said as he jogged to his waiting companion.

Mr. Grey stood for long moments. Letting his heart rate slow. That had been close. Very close.

He walked on.

He entered his apartment building, and walked the long lonely flight up the stairs. With each step, he came closer to security and safety. Warmth and love. All the things that the streets did not have were in that very building. He stepped to the final landing to look at the door of his penthouse apartment.

The door was slightly ajar.

His pulse went into overdrive; he ran forward pushing open the door and saw emptiness. Rebecca was not there. He ran to her room and saw the locks where open. She was not there.

Who? Who could have done this? Jack the Skull.

He launched himself out of the window of the apartment and down the fire escape. He was down in moments, and running. Here and there he saw signs of Rebecca. A lock of her hair, caught in the fire escape. He captured it.

This spurred him on.

"Rebecca!!" He screamed her name.

Jack the Skull stepped out of the shadows and said "Lose something Mr. Grey?" His entire face was twisted in mocking sneer.

"What did you do with her?" he was hysterical,

"Why don't you calm down freak?" the second Skull stepped out. He held a sawed off shotgun in his hand.

"This is bad, a Cape can hear him a mile away" Jack said.

"I don't get it, they don't wear capes..." four more Skulls stepped into the alley.

"Shaddup, Burke" a final figure spoke. Wearing similar gang colors as the others, this one was unarmed. While the other had bats, sledgehammers, and pistols, this one walked with nothing but his own menace and power.

"Yeah sure thing, Zeke" the one called Burke muttered out meekly.

"I was just going to look for you Mr. Grey” Zeke said with a menacing whisper, and took a step forward.

"Zeke, Jack says he saw her running towards police headquarters,"Carl whispered furiously.

"Well Mr. Grey looks like your luck has run out," Zeke said

This wasn't right, the shadows seemed to throb and swirl around Zeke, as if they where alive. There was an air of absolute terror that was trying to take root in Mr. Greys mind. He wanted to run, to scream in terror. It was the same feeling he had when walking home. Zeke must have been there, watching him.

Their weapons where out now and pointed at him, Mr. Grey didn't know what else to do, he began to whimper. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair! Why couldn't he live his life without these things happening to him? Rebecca was gone, he knew that now, and soon he would be dead. Tears began to run down his face as Gravedigger Buckshot raised his gun to fire.

Zeke turn his back on the weeping Mr. Grey in disgust, and saw a shadow shift. He froze. Zeke was a Bone Daddy, his senses, reflexes, strength and other powers where granted by channeling negative energy from the netherworlds. Imbued with these powers, he ran his crew with iron resolve, and often had to deal with some of the "Heroes" that patrol the streets. He could always sense every movement around him.

He saw the shadow shift. Every instinct screamed what it could be.

Before Zeke could get out a warning the felt a wind brush the side of his head. Zeke dropped to the ground with all the speed his body possessed.

Carl wasn't so lucky. The shotgun went off with a thunderous BOOM. Zeke knew Carl would lose his head one day. He never realized it would be in a literal sense. The Gravedigger Buckshot’s head was the first to fall, and then the rest of his body began to topple.

Zeke watched in slow motion-like way, his reflexes kicking him into a super speed moment of clarity. He saw as a physical mass of shadow continued its swing. The sword it held arced around taking Carl's head off was moving steadily to Mike's side. Zeke felt something else as well. He felt his very life force being leeched away, his soul being sucked into that maw of living shadow.

If this was affecting him, then it must be murdering the others of his crew. Jack was wrapped in some kind of tendrils writhing from the very ground, the hellish noise they made as he struggled and screamed against them was as deafening as the shotgun blast.

The shadow spun around, and backhanded Burke across the jaw, and followed it up with a kick to the stomach. Burke collapsed in a gush of air as he emptied his lungs.

Jimmy, and Rocco just stood there. Rooted to the ground in horror.

Zeke was standing by the time Carl’s head landed, and Jimmy got his first scream from his lips. Zeke ran forward, he pushed passed the living shadow and the pain that followed touching it, and struck. He unleashed every ounce of his rage and hate and his own dark power responded. A howling blast of darkness, it's skull shaped negative energy blast was blacker then any hell, with a corona of white that gave it definition. It streaked towards the sword-wielding hero but suddenly he dodged.

Zeke didn't let it distract him; he already closed the distance between them and unleashed a flurry of blows. This spurred Jimmy and Rocco into action. Jimmy aimed his pistol and fired, and watched as the bullets where absorbed by the shadowy mantle, surrounding the swordsman. Rocco ran forward with a yell, and swung his sledgehammer.

The swordsman dropped below the bone daddy’s strike, and slashed out with his sword.

Rocco collapsed with a cry of pain, Jimmy didn't scream at all, he just fell.

Zeke stopped and looked around. All his guys where down. . The Shadow stood as well, and then it faded away. Standing there was a masked male, pale white hair spikey, with dark brown skin. His eyes where white, blazing white with no pupils. The mask covered his nose to drape around his shoulders.

Zeke found himself growing heavy. As if the shadow only contained some power, with the dark mantle gone, it was unleashed upon him fully. Zeke readied for another attack, positioned his legs, he stepped over his left arm, and readied for a Shadow Smite.

Zeke frowned. Something was not right. He looked down and saw both his arms lying there; hanging below his belt he saw pink tendrils sagging from his shirt. "...Wha.." he said, and sat heavily on the ground and his life leaked away.

Mr. Grey watched with wide-eyed fascination as the Skulls where beaten and killed. No, not all killed. Somewhere alive. With a casual wave, the dark tentacles holding Jack disappeared. A quiet, whisper of a voice spoke from behind the mask.

"...go home they wait for you" the hero said to Jack.

Jack seemed to be in shock, because he just stood there. He finally dropped his weapons and walked away slowly.
"What about him" Jack said, pointing to the crumpled form of Burke.

"...he lives until he breaks one of the Nine Laws...” the voice whispered.
"So do you. Leave."

Jack ran down the alley and was gone.

Mr. Grey looked around and saw Zeke; the Bone Daddy's must be powerful. He was still alive, with both arms cut off and his guts hanging out. Mr. Grey was calm. He lived through the Rikti Invasion, so he saw things a lot worst then this. A lot worst.

He should compliment and thank the hero. Mr. Grey decided to go for something to lighten the mood. "Nice costume!"

Nothing. The hero just stared at him. "Uhh, thanks"

Mr. Grey turned to leave, when the ground erupted beneath his feet. Black tentacles reached out and wrapped around him, in the center a hellish noise arose, and the maw of some terrible, horrifying thing gnawed and chewed at his very soul. Mr. Grey screamed in horror.

"WHAT?! WHAT IS THIS?" he screamed.
Zeke stared in shock as well, and then something dawned on his dragging lifeless features, pulling them into a grimace, and then a cruel smile.

"Dark Law, so it's true...." Zeke rasped.

"WHAT"S TRUE!? Oh god what is this?! HELP ME!!"

"Bad luck for you, freak." Zeke hissed to Mr. Grey, as he slowly sagged to the cold alley ground.

"...Lawbreaker" Dark Law quietly said. He pulled his sword free, and set himself.

"WAIT! I DIDN'T BREAK ANY LAWS, YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING" Mr. Grey screamed. Even as he said it, his wife Rebecca flashed before his eyes. Rebecca as he saw her, preparing his meals, setting the table, their wedding. How he had found her in mall one day and swept her off her feet and took her home. How he had trained her to be a good wife, the beatings and the torture to successfully train the perfect wife. He saw his other wives as well before they disappointed him, or if the training grew to severe. How he had the Skulls carry the bodies off in exchange for information he gathered at his insurance office. Information they used for their crimes. If someone got hurt because of it, how did it matter? this was his life, his love he wanted to share. All of these things flashed before his eyes, and Mr. Grey knew they where the things this Dark Law saw them.

His judge.

His Jury.

His executioner.

"...do you see?" Whispered the voice.

"Yes, tell Rebecca I love her" Mr. Grey sobbed.

"..."

The howling tendrils constricted in a vise grip cutting off Mr. Grey’s throat. He didn't see the blade swing that took off his head.

"Justice is done"

And then he was gone.

I'm an avid Roleplayer, though this is my first on-line game. "All" my friends were playing, so I had to try it out. Damn thing should be called "Crack of Heroes". I haven't fed the cat in three days!

My two main characters are Death's Knight and ElectronBlaster.

DK is a servant of Mistress/Master Death, and is a Dark Scrapper. I try to RP him, but it's real tough for me to be that somber and straight laced for long periods of time.

ElectronBlaster is rapidly becoming my main character. The son of a wealthy Weapons Magnate, he's part Playboy, part Lab Rat. He works for his father's company, doing R&D. When the 5th Column attacked the lab, he didn't hesitate to put on the experimental security armor they were developing and fight them. When he woke up in the hospital (), some city officials congratulated him on keeping the 5th busy long enough for "real heroes" to arrive. They then handed him a bunch of registration forms. He ended up with the dumb name of "ElectronBlaster" because he was hopped up on pain killers*.

After he recovered, he decided he wanted to do it again. It was exciting, and chicks really dig super heroes. So now he runs around Paragon City having a good time, and often ending up over his head in his over eagerness.

*Actually, I was drunk. Remember... Friends don't let friends drink and make characters!

So when I restarted CoH last night, my x == down bind started working. I guess it was just some kind of loading issue.

I also noticed something AWESOME last night. With Stealth on, you can't move and hover simultaneously. Now with these binds, that problem is GONE! Since you switch to Fly before moving, I can now effectively remain Stealthed and move! Whooo!!

[ QUOTE ]
Paraphrased Question by Sabercat "How does binding a toggle to a movement key work?" Answer: Magic.


[/ QUOTE ]

Well, OK then. As long as there is a solid, rational explanation.

I read something about the "overwrite effect" which might be involved in this magic. It all still seems rather odd to me but I'm not going to question it too hard as long as it works.

Yes. I think Champions has the most amount of flexibility over all the systems I've played. Combat seems slow and confusing, but it just takes a little getting used to is all. And knockback is fun.

The missing link is endurance. If you toggle fly on, and you get in a fight and forget to turn it off, you're wasting endurance. But if you DO remember to change to Hover, but then find yourself losing and you want to fly away, you have to hit an extra key.

With SinAbyss' setup, and it's variations, you have Speed on Demand. The "Demand" part is pressing a movement key... when you want to move, you move fast. If you don't want to move (and stop pressing the movement keys), you AUTOMATICALLY go into just hover, saving Endurance and get a defensive bonus.

If you have simple toggle keys for flight and hover, and they work for you, then no reason to change anything. Basically, we're a bunch of geeky programmers trying to automate and streamline the efficiency of something that's not TOO hard to do manually. Of course, when I'm in a group trying to make jokes, fight, navigate, and eat a cookie all at the same time, every little bit helps

Gnarly

Thanks Blue Volt!

My G key wasn't working, so I thought powexec_name abort just didn't work... and I guess it shouldn't because I'm doing it wrong.

As for turning off Hover... I just press the G key. That turns off (if the above fix gets it working) everything, including hover. My intention is to either be in the air, hovering, with speed on demand, for which I press the T key. Or, if I press the G key, I'll be on the ground with Speed on Demand.

Good Suggestions on the up 1$$forward 1 commands rather than ++forward etc. I'll play with it once I get fly, but let us know if you find a good solution.

Van Renier, I actually meant that maybe the actual bind to one key was too long, but Blue Volt had examples of binds that were longer and work, so that's a non-issue.

Paraphrased Question by Sabercat "How does binding a toggle to a movement key work?" Answer: Magic. Seriously though, only thing I can figure out is that if you use +forward or some such, the command parser must check the key on BOTH when you press the key, and release the key, since it needs to know. It must just process any other commands at the same time.

Gnarly