Ex_Libris

Savannah, Ga and Bluffton, SC area here.

We game everyone Saturday depending on schedules. Lets see... list of games. . .

Palladium Fantasy
Champions
Call of Chuthulu
Pendragon - only about 5 times a year due to the GM lives out of state.
We also have two games that two of our crew designed that we tryout every so often after edits. So yeah, I'm a geek. So sue me.

Well said. . .

Although dropping a building on the leader of one of those groups isn't always a bad thing. Some of them get reather big.

Well if you plan on putting that costume on boy I'd recommend you try to learn not to be some vigilante that ignores everything and just causes trouble for villian and city workers alike.

Too many heros around this city would sooner blow up a building of criminals then capture them and let us jail and question them to try to deal with the problem by finding out where their main leader is to try to stop them.

Half the heros in this city would rather blow a building up and endanger all the people around it then let the police know and work with them.

Name: The MIRATOS Foundation (www.miratos.com)
Motto: Changes regularly
Leader: Hphage, Shadowslight, Sun Fyre, Demon Angel
Player Type: Casual
Number of members: 15+
Current member levels: 6-20
Normal time of Gameplay: 5:00pm-1:00am CST
Other information: A casual group from a number of games, joined in this one. We are always looking for other people to group up with and join us. We are a fun and mature group and most importantly: Loyal to one another. Check out our website/forums and get to know us if you are interested.

Chapter 2

The first thing that hit Stanley was the smoke. He had never been to a night club before, and the 2001 Odyssey club was as alien to him as a library is to a fraternity guy. The smoke, flashing lights, and pounding music combined to disorient him for a few moments.

He pushed his way through the crowd to the bar and ordered a seven and seven. As he sipped his drink he scanned the dance floor looking for Stephanie. He squinted as he examined the mass of undulating, polyester-clad bodies on the dance floor. He spotted her in the middle of the crowd, dancing with a man in an ill-fitting brown suit. Stanley put his empty glass on the bar and made his way to the dance floor.

He thought back over the last 8 months in which he had spent day and night trying to develop the formula that would give him the tools he needed to approach Stephanie. After failure upon failure he had finally found success, and tonight was the big night in which he would test his new formula.

The once shy and awkward scientist stepped on the dance floor with confidence, his white lab coat replaced with a white sport coat and black shirt, and his grubby khakis replaced with white dress pants. He was ready to dance. It was his night.

Stanley made it to the middle of the dance floor and approached Stephanie. A look of recognition flashed across her face, followed by a look of surprise. He smiled, took her hand, and began to move. His timing was perfect, and his moves were quick and fluid. He twirled and jumped across the floor with ease, and within moments everyone else had stopped dancing and had made room for the hot couple. They watched Stanley with awe and clapped along with the beat. Stanley could do no wrong; every move was perfect, and every step brought more applause from the crowd, and more smiles from Stephanie. He paused, thrusted his hand in the air, and smiled. I've done it!

The song ended and a slow song began. As the other dancers slowly crowded back onto the dance floor, Stanley pulled Stephanie closer to him and continued dancing. He was in heaven; it was what he had always dreamed of. He gently spun her around and took a step back, but stumbled briefly. The formula is wearing off!

Stanley gazed at Stephanie longingly, then let go of her hand and rushed off the dance floor and out of the club. He hated to leave her, but he was elated that his formula had worked. His dream was coming true!

Now, if I can just increase the duration of the formula... Stanley made his way back to his lab to do just that. The rest of the science building was dark and silent as Stanley worked on his formula.

Lobe looked at Ivory, "A long time? You mean, like a week? Umm...." Lobe scratches his head. "I guess I could stay for a week. But I have to come back because my sister needs me. Yup she does." Lobe beams brightly at the green girl, thinking that he has grasped the situation correctly.

Chapter 1

"Dr. Nightstien. Dr. Nightstien!"

"Huh? Oh, sorry." The voice of his young lab assistant jerked Stanley Nighstien back to the present in his lab at Paragon University and away from his favorite daydream, the one in which he runs away with Stephanie, the beautiful art professor whose office was just down the hall from his. She was MORE THAN A WOMAN, she was perfection. As he shook the cobwebs of fantasy from his head, Stanley was sobered by the fact that his daydream would never become a reality. Tina didn't know he existed. And why should she? He was just a shy, awkward scientist who had devoted his entire life to science and the acquisition of knowledge.

"Dr. Nighstien, I finished recording the results from today's tests. May I go home now?"

"Uh, oh sure. Thanks for your help." Stanley looked down at his own notes without seeing them.

"Doc, is there something wrong?" Stanley continued staring at his notes. "Look, why don't you just talk to her?" Stanley's head jerked up and he shot a startled glance at his assistant. "Come on, we all see how you look at her. Just talk to her. You are a distinguished scientist at this university. You have nothing to be afraid of."

"You wouldn't understand," Stanley replied. "I've never been good with women. I get tongue-tied and unintelligible around them. I just don't know what to say."

The assistant thought for a moment, then blurted out "2001 Odyssey!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"That's the night club where Stephanie goes dancing every Friday and Saturday night. That place is so loud you won't have to worry about conversation. After all, if you really want to meet her, YOU SHOULD BE DANCING."

"Heh, are you kidding? I couldn't dance to save my life." Dr. Nightstien looked down at his faded and worn brown shoes. "Do these look like BOOGIE SHOES to you?"

"Suit yourself, Doc. But if you could just get a little confidence I think you'd be fine." The assistant turned to go. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, thanks." The assistant left Stanley alone in the lab with his thoughts. If only I could dance, he thought. That would give me the confidence I need to approach Stephanie.

"That's it!," he exclaimed. Before the echo of his shout had faded completely, Stanley was at his computer typing furiously. "If I could just find a way to tap into the portions of the brain that control coordination and rhythm, I could artificially stimulate them. That would increase my dancing ability and give me the confidence I need!"

Stanley found the information he was looking for on his pc and lept up to begin his work. Surrounded by test tubes, chemicals, and Bunsen burners, Dr. Nightstien worked through the night, thinking only of Stephanie. IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU, he thought, I don't want nobody, baby.

Rook:

Linda English rocked back and forth in her swivel chair. Twirling her eyeglasses around in her hand, she smirked as she stared at her computer screen.

"A/S/L?", popped up in her chat room.

"19 years old, hunky male from southern California.", Linda typed with one hand with incredible speed.

Work had become incredibly boring for her in recent times. Five years ago, the IRA seemed to be in its prime. Information about their enemies poured from her monitor like a flood. But now, since allot of the IRA had disbanded its weapons, things have calmed down. So, taunting young girls in chat rooms filled most of her time.

Suddenly, one of her minimized windows started flashing. Nonchalantly, Linda opened it, expecting that some computer geek was trying to hack into her files.

She was confused when she opened the window. Someone has been looking for information on the former IRA assassin Rook.

She knew Rook when she was much younger, a handsome, strong and deadly man. Rook was a loose cannon, which made Linda grow more and more intrigued about him. But that was a long time ago, he was most likely dead by now.

At first she thought that it might be some kid who had heard stories about the assassin, but the way the person was retrieving information was done carefully....too carefully.

"This sleeveen is sure actin' the fool...", said Linda under her breath.

Linda squinted her eyes and slightly grinned, wondering if this might be a lead into the famous "disappearing terrorist" investigation the IRA had been conducting and nearly dropped.

Rook:

The cold snow wrapped around Rook's heavy boots as he made his way through the desolate Ruby Park.

Ruby Park once derived its name from the beautiful images it gave the citizens of Paragon City during fall. In this season, nearly all of the leaves on the huge trees had turned into a dark amber. The park also had long lines of bushes, which also during this time, sprouted bright red flowers. Lovers, families, friends and occasional business partners could all be seen strolling through Ruby Park during this time.

But now, Ruby Park held one solitary figure. The trees and bushes were all covered with a thick blanket of snow, covering their old beauty and adding a new, different beauty.

Rook slowly walked through the park, hoping to get his mind off of things. Little puffs of visible air left Rook's mouth as he looked at two squirrels chasing each other up a tree. He smiled and made his way over to a park bench.

Brushing the thick snow out of the way, Rook placed himself down on the freezing iron bench. Rook didn't mind the cold though as he peered over the span of the park.

Rook enjoyed the silence and emptiness of the park on his day off. Then he thought that maybe, this was exactly what he needed to rest his mind and soul.

Thevshi:

Bernadette’s voice rang through the room like a clear bell as she proceeded through her scales in choir practice. Singing was usually a means of escape for her from her regular life and it was something that she was quite good at. But today, she was having trouble focusing on her singing, the thoughts about the newscast and her growing feeling that the two Rooks were one and the same.

Suddenly the piano accompanying her stopped and Mrs. Fredricks was looking at her with an expression of surprise on her face. “Bernadette, are you feeling well? You have missed four notes.”

Bernadette looked down at the floor and sheepishly replied, “I am sorry mum, I am a little tired is all.”

Mrs. Fredricks looked at her for a moment and then gestured to the rows of seats where the other students were seated. “Take a seat then Bernadette. Next!”

Bernadette reddened slightly as she made her way over to her seat, ignoring the gazes of the other students as she went. She sat down and fixed her gaze on the next student, as they began to recite their scales. Well lass, why don’t you just let this obsession take over yer entire life why don’t ye.

One of the boys that sat behind her leaned forward some whispering, “What’s the matter Bernadette, you have a hot date last night?” Bernadette turned back and the gaze she shot him was enough to cause his smile to fade as he sat back in his chair. The rest of the class was not much better.


As she was heading towards the door after the bell had sounded, Mrs. Fredricks called out, “Bernadette, can you stay a moment?”

Bernadette moved her way over towards Mrs. Fredricks’ desk as the rest of the choir class made their way out of the room, free for lunch. Mrs. Fredricks looked up at her with a greatly concerned look as the last student left the room. “Are you all right dear? This is not like you, not like you at all.”

Standing their with her hands crossed in front of her, Bernadette quietly replied, "I am fine mum, I just ‘ad a ‘ard time getting to sleep last night.”

“Is everything okay at home dear?” Mrs. Fredricks asked, her gaze deeply concerned.

The question took Bernadette slightly by surprise, but she quickly lied, “Yes mum, everything is fine.”

Mrs. Fredricks seemed to accept Bernadette’s response and smiled, “Dear, you are an incredibly gifted singer. You could be so good. I hope you realize that?”

“Oh, yes mum, I do. I truly enjoy singing.” Bernadette replied with a smile of her own.

Mrs. Fredricks smiled again. “Very good dear. Now you had better be getting to lunch. And please try to get enough rest so you can stay focused in class.”

Bernadette nodded, “Yes mum, I will.” And turned and left the classroom.

Rook:

Brogan and Murphy stood next to each other with arms crossed over their chests as Linda English pulled up the hacked information on Rook.

"I hev' sketchy phone conversations....information retrieval cues....and an address. Whoeva was checkin' out this info was shure snakin' around.", said Linda through the clatter of typed keys.

Murphy was already fuming. He was relatively new to the IRA, but he has been trying to track the missing terrorist ever since his induction. To Murphy, it was a chance to prove himself to other members of the IRA that he was a worthwhile member. But now, some culchie (untrustworthy person) snatched up all the glory. He gritted his teeth and stormed out of the room to find his files on Rook.

Brogan peered at the screen with a stern look on his face. Brogan was one of the senior members of the IRA. Everyone usually referred to him as "Stormin Brogan", a name derived from his fits of anger.

"Lass, the addy there....where is that located?", said Brogan as he leaned forward towards Linda's six monitors.

"12593 SE R Street....I ran a check of the addy...two locales....", said Linda as she twirled her glasses around in her finger. "I git one in Quebec Canada, and the other in Paragon City, United States."

Brogan tugged at his white beard as he pondered. He once had trained Rook as a young man. Rook showed much promise, but it all crumbled when he killed Rube Bloodeyes, another IRA assassin. At first, no one believed that Rook did it. No one wanted to believe he did it. But soon, all fingers pointed to Rook as he disappeared from Ireland. Ever since then, Rook has become one of their main targets.

"Patch me into the trainin faciliti lass...",said Brogan very slowly as if he were thinking about making a major decision.

Linda hammered away at her keys, and in a few moments a video screen opened on one of the monitors.

"Attention, I hev a job for the three of ya.....make a right hames of this job, and you'll be in flitters when I'm dune with ya...
(Attention, I have a job for the three of you, mess up this job and you'll be in pieces when I'm done with you)

This guide is just great! Really good job.

Ihave question may answer. Do you know ho i could do a bind key that to select one after one the different member of my group. I mean without having to directly select them with the lshift + number key. a kind of "group member browser" bind ?

Please use this thread to post details regarding your Supergroup on the Liberty server.

Include the following information:
<ul type="square">[*]Supergroup Name: [*]Website (if any):[*]Leader or Recruiting Officers:[*]Preferred Method of contact: (ingame email, regular email, Forum PM, SG website, this forum, etc. Be specific)[*]Guild Description: (Motto, membership requirements/guidelines, and any other information that might help a hero decide whether or not to apply to your group.[/list]
I will start us off.



<ul type="square">[*]Supergroup Name: Ghost Soldiers[*]Website (if any): www.ghostsoldiers.org[*]Recruiting Officers: Hardplace, Wolfgate, Chromium[*]Preferred Method of contact: Forum PM to me or ingame e-mail to any of the officers[*]Guild Description: The Ghost Soldiers are about 20 people strong. We are an adult based gaming group. Our membership is mostly 30+ with few exceptions. We have a dedicated website for our group. We are careful about the people we invite into our group since we want to make sure that every new recruit is someone that we'd want to play with if they were the only person online. Overall, we are a very laid back and friendly group with real lives outside of this game that appreciate gaming with people who have the same priorites.[/list]
Thanks to PHX_Archangelus for suggesting this registry.

10:30 pm

Synful after finishing off a few leads head back into the station to check up on a few leads in progress.

Security Chief: Nice work on the Vahzolok base locations Syn, we should be able to make a move here soon.

Synful: Thanks Chief... but in the eyes of some I might have failed tonight... I was enetering Perez Park, when out of the trees came another with a Vahizlok on his tail, had I not stopped to think whether or not he was in trouble, he might be here at my side today... All you hear throughout the city is so and so is trying to take credit for my lead... when some of us are just trying to assist... we're all here for the same purpous am I right?

Security Chief: I would think so...

Synful: I didn't even have time to catch his name... yet another life to gain revenge on...

Security Chief: Well Syn, that seems what you and Arcane Retibution is about, but I really dont let me see head's hanging above hideout entrances again, the media almost got a hold of that one.

Synful: It's not about the media it's all for vengeance...

Synful closes the door as he leave's leaving the Chief shaking his head. Will anyone ever hear of the mysterious Synful's past? Or we will all go on wondering just who he really is?

Great list you have here. I have tried to figure out how to bind the ID to a key or a macro and can't figure it out. Do you know how to do it? I know you can use the \ key to open the menu then hit D to open the ID, but how do I do that in a bind command? I even tried the menu command, but how do I execute a command in the menu? Maybe I am just trying to hard and missed something.
Thanks!

Merle awoke slowly. At first, he thought he was still laying there in the mud where he had collapsed, but as conciousness slowly overtook him, he felt began feeling what must be a bed beneath him, and a sheet over him. He was in one of the cabins, back at the camp, but he didn't recognize it. Dark drapes covered the windows, and the thinnest line of sunlight crept around their edges. The main source of light in the dim room came from a door nearby, cracked open about a foot. He could hear voices, but they were muffled, almost whispering.

Not more than a few seconds after waking, their talking stopped, and a councilor he knew as Gene came into the room. His dark eyes wore a look of curiousity, and warning, all at once. He cautiously, but with purpose, strode to Merle's bed, and pulled a chair up to sit at eye level with the young man.

"Do you know what happened, Merle?"

About to speak, Merle opened his mouth, but suddenly the memories of the night before flooded through him, and his mouth shut again. That couldn't have happened... there's no explanation...

"You're right, Merle, there's no explanation for what took place last night at the base of that cliff two-point-three miles from Camp Statesman. None at all. Of course, there's also no explanation for why I know exactly what happened."

Merle's eyes widened in shock, as his jaw again dropped open - Gene could read his mind!

The councilor smiled slightly, and put a reassuring hand on Merle's forearm. He hardly felt it.

"Welcome to the real purpose for Camp Statesman, Merle. My code name is 'Psylore', and I can help you...."

Gene - Psylore - went on to explain that the camp was a cover for a small scout troupe from Paragon City, and an operation known as G.I.F.T. - an organization which assisted superpowered mutants in getting their footing in a new and dangerous line of work, as defenders of Paragon City. If Merle was willing to assist their cause, they would in turn assist him in understanding and controlling his newfound powers.

They warned him, however, that further exercising his power would most likely worsen his skin condition, to the point that eventually his skin would be indistinguishable from a layer of stone wrapped around his frame.

Such a small cost, to be able to help so many people with his new powers - control over the earth itself.

Merle, now codenamed "Mudslide" in honor the near-tragedy that unlocked his latent mutation, left the camp that summer and traveled with Gene and the other members of G.I.F.T, directly to Paragon City. There, he completed his senior year of high school with the enhanced speed of having a psychic assist in his studies, and passed all his exams with blinding success. Upon graduation, he immediately sought enrollment in G.I.F.T., but was denied.

"Our ranks consist of the trainers, the teachers, the seekers, and the helpers. We are not the place for a Hero."

A Hero. That sounded good. Much better than anything else that he'd been called in his life. But what did the past matter now, with such a bright future ahead?

--------

The sun was finally dipping behind the tall figures of Atlas Park's skyscrapers when Mudslide was brought out of his reverie by the nearby sounds of a screams and laughter - a mugging in progress, or worse.

With as little as a thought, the ground beneath the perpetrators began to erupt in jagged earthen spikes, enclosing their feet, ankles, and more, in prisons of stone. As he rounded the corner to assess the situation, they took aim and pressed their triggers, attempting to ward off their prey's would-be savior. Most missed, as these low-ranking thugs never gained the privelege of training with their weaponry.

One bounced off the thick hide-like skin on his shoulder, as a glancing blow failed to penetrate the tough shell he'd been blessed with.

Blessed. How long had he considered it a curse?

Another stuck into his chest, almost an inch deep. Hardly more than a flesh wound, despite the pain, where it may have been a fatal blow for most civilians. But after months of patrolling and street cleaning, such minor wounds were becoming the norm for this new Hero.

Hero.

Wincing at the pain, yet smiling at some inner sense of self-worth, Mudslide brought the world crashing down around the thugs' ears.

Literally.

//////////

Mudslide
Earth/Kinetics Controller
Guardian Server
Guild : The UnNaturals

They rushed off into the hills, the three of them. Eddy's unnaturally long limbs carrying him much faster than the other two - especially the squatty Merle. They figured, the further from the camp they got, the longer it would take for the councilors to catch them. They kept going - climbing, running, huffing, panting, all punctuated with the occasional laughter at their daring escape into the night.

The night sky was the blackest it could be - the clouds of the nearby storm rolled through the sky, as deep thunder shook the heavens above them, and flashes of lightning occasionally lit their path. Then the rains finally came. Stopping on a trail, Merle turned his face to the dark sky, a big smile cracking the thick dry skin of his cheeks.

It came down in sharp, large drops. Slowly at first, but only for a few brief moments. Soon it was a virtual deluge, churning the dirt paths to mud, and bringing a second layer of dark to the already deep and forbidding night. Merle smiled even wider as the itch finally began to subside, while the welcome rain drenched him to the bone.

Not far away, Eddy and the bug-eyed Chris were huddled in the psuedo-shelter of a series of large boulders sitting at the foot of a nearby cliff. They smiled at their friends joy of having this relief, even if they all three knew it would be short-lived, as soon as he dried out again.

The thunder above masked the sound, but Merle suddenly opened his eyes when he felt the earth beneath him rumbling with a constant, aching feel. Casting his eyes instinctively to the lip of the cliff, far above his two friends, lightning flashed through the night sky just in time for him to see the wall of mud, rocks, trees, and boulders just beginning to cascade over the lip of the cliff above.

Merle screamed in terror for his friends to run, but a crash of thunder drowned out his words, and they continued chattering about something, utterly oblivious that their lives might be ended in a mere matter of seconds.

Time slowed. Instinctively, Merle's arms thrust toward the cliff face as a another scream of determined rage ripped through the night, drowned by the downpour from the heavens, and the constant rumble of the earthen death cascading down from the cliff above. An instant before the rocks and earth descended on the two unwary teens, the cliffside suddenly erupted in a blast of rock, as a wide stretch of the rockface thrust out into the night sky, creating a canopy over Merle's two friends. The mud, rocks and debris harmlessly piled off the side of the the newly created shelter, just a matter of feet away from Eddy and Chris. In another flash of lightning, they stared in fear at what had just transpired, and made a dead run back for the camp.

Suddenly drained of every ounce of his strength, Merle collapsed in the muddy trail, and passed into unconciousness.

The short figure of a man, caked in what looked to be dried mud, stood under a nearby awning, casually thumbing through the latest Paragon Press newspaper while he avoided the direct glare of the mid-afternoon sun.

Another lab explosion. Another dimensional rift. Another strange artifact uncovered, and another hero, or villain, brought into Paragon - for good or evil?

The squat being led out a deep sigh that held a slight rumble of stone. Why would he be surprised? It hadn't been all that different for him, after all... had it?

----------

Merle Haggard Stinton (his parents were big Country Music fans) had grown up with a skin condition. He went through probably hundreds, possibly thousands, of pounds of moisturizing cream in his youth, yet could never overcome the dry, thick, crust of a forever-cracked skin he was draped in, head to toe. It might have been useful in this day and age, if it had offered some sort of protection - but it was still just his skin. Just some horrible disfigurement that some misguided higher being had decided he'd deserved.

He was forced to attend private schools, due to his condition, where he invariably failed to achieve anything of note. More of a casual misfit than any sort of active anarchist, Merle brought home report card after report card of straight 'C' grades. He had few friends - most kids his age, even the other less-than-normal ones he grew up with - referred to him as "rock face" or "mud skin" or just plain "freak." Outcast and dejected, Merle fell into a depression. His parents decided, the summer before his Senior year in high school, to send him away to a summer camp for "gifted" youths, in hopes that being with more people that suffered similar fates to his, might help him snap out of his stupor.

It was called Camp Statesman, and the kids that showed up that summer were inducted into an order called the State Scouts - a group of young people supposedly dedicated to upholding the lofty moral ideals of The Statesman. Whether the camp was formed with the famed superhero's permission or not, was never revealed to the enrolled. Nor did it really matter, in the end, as the result was the same.

Merle did manage to come out of his shell a bit that summer. He met other children with similar disfiguring mutations that had somehow managed to maintain a positive outlook on life, despite being so down-trodden. Their optimism was contagious, as was that of the camp's councilors. Merle made friends, and finally began to open his eyes to a side of his situation that he'd never envisioned before - in fact, he stopped moisturizing.

It turns out that was a mistake. Within a couple of weeks after giving up his moisturizing cream habit, Merle's skin had become so thick, cracked, and flaky, that his itching was almost nonstop. Unfortunately, there was no relief in sight - he had thrown the family-sized bottle of Jergen's he'd brought with him into a nearby river, and watched it float away. He would shower two or three times a day, trying to somehow scrub away the itch, and let the waters seep into this thick skin.

Late one night, desperate for relief, Merle was elated when he heard the sounds of a thunderstorm on the horizon. He quickly woke a couple of his new friends, and they snuck out of the cabin that night, and headed up into the hills, to await the rain that might ease Merle's suffering.

Flatline - Science Blaster

At the age of 7, a young boy is diagnosed with an incurable cancer, and is given 6 months to live. His parents, desperate to save their son, enroll him in an experimental cancer program. The cancer program, developed around the recently discovered nanite technology, and introduces microscopic computer creatures into the host with the sole purpose of destroying the cancer. The physicians introduce the nanites into the young boy, and to their surprise, the nanites destroy the cancer and the boy is saved. However, the nanites have found a new home and the physicians are unable to remove them without harming the boy. They show no ill intent and his parents decide to leave them be. As the boy grows older, the symbiosis of the nanites with their host become more complete and at the age of 23, the boy, now a young man, finds himself possessing incredible powers of electrical manipulation and emission. Feeling a call to duty, and public service, he decides to shield his identity and join the superhero elite as.....FLATLINE.

Have seen the following as well:

ks or ksr: Kill Steal or Kill Stealer
"Damn ksr"

IMHO: In My Honest Opinion (really the same as above but to some it makes a diff.

ctr: Chasing The Runner
"Dude where u at?" "ctr"

I know I'm pretty lucky. We have a group that plays every Saturday. We generally run from 6 to midnight. We have 4 players in that group and we have 3 current Campaigns. Dragonlance D20, Forgotten Realms D20, and Starwars D20. I also play Sunday with a secondary group in which have Multiple games. A few of them are AD&amp;D 2.5 and we a few based on the Palladum Multiverse. I can say as far as roleplaying I have a very good group. Everyone gets into there characters and most of the game is Player to Player interaction with maybe 1 or 2 combat encounters in a 6 hour game. In some cases we might not even have "Mechanical" combat. With that out of the way I must say I ran into a few people Rping on Pinnacle and palying along is a blast. Just the other day there was an individual doing kata. i commented on it in character and we had a nice in character conversation about exercises and power armor.

First try at a bio, tell me what you think


Class : H
Blaster : Elec/Enegy control
Pool: Hover Fly and Teleport ally(soon teleport self, 1 more lvl)

Ones the lead technician of Crey Industries space program, and the main programmer for the satellite core that of the paragon space station that first altered the citizens of the coming rikti invasion. When the information first arrived it shocked Mega-Watt (Derrick Everson) He knew the satellites had the power to defend the city if they where finished. But the core was yet to be done, it would have used advanced AI to control beams of electricity and pure energy to destroy the target. Derrick knew what he must do, the only way to control the full power of the satellite he needed a remote of some kind, about the size of a .. human arm. He made a gantlet and used it like a remote control unit that absorbed the energies send down from the core, and converted it into blasts of power. After Thrashing a few hundred Rikti with blasts of pure power the core became rather unstable the energy poured into the remote unit and melted the remote to his arm, after it fused the core re-stabilized, but forever part of Mega-Watt, later the satellite was revamped, by Mega-Watt to even lift his body into the air, and teleport using a neutron point that bends time and space. After being forced into being a tech super hero, he decided to use his new powers to protect his friends and family

Most likely,

Paint It Black, for Kani Night.

/sign
heck, i'll even GM for free!!!

"Killing is bad!" Lobe exclaims, in response to the general desires of some of the group. He then smiles at Contact for his like view in the matter. "Besides, she's just a nice little girl." Lobe turns his smile back to the floating green female. Then, as more of the conversation sinks in, he turns back to Contact, who isn't sporting a look of violence, and suggests, "If you want to get out of a prison, dig a tunnel. They always dig tunnels in the movies. I like movies." his innocent grin wide with remembered enjoyment.

Powerman5000 - Bomshell

Great tune

I'm trying to build a background for my character and I can't seem to find any answers. I don't know if there is any official answers, anyway.

1.) Around what year is it, in game?
2.) How close is the history to modern day? Meaning, was there a Korean War, Vietnam, did Kennedy get assassinated, did the Soviet Union crumble, etc.
3.) When exactly was the Rikti invasion (time frame versus current game time)?

Thanks. I just can't seem to find these answers.

Raynor

[in the kitchen of a farmhouse]

A short stocky man, in his 50s, stalks out of the room carrying a broken broom handle. On the floor lies a sobbing boy, covered in whelts and weals. The boy is 10 but is the size of a full grown man and heavier than most body builders. In walks a girl, cautiously checking the hallway her father had just walked down. She is younger than the boy and of normal size for her age and gender. She shares the same complexion and hair colour as the boy, although where his eyes are a deep, soft blue, her's are hazel. She kneels at her brother's back and reaches out her hand to stroke his hair, "It's alright Gabe, he's gone, father's left."

Gabriel flinches at the contact of his sister's hand. "Shhh, shhhh, it's just me, Kat," Katrina soothed him.

"I'm soo..soo..orry," Gabriel apologizes in a ruined voice.

Kat, love, compassion, and pitty crafting her face, reaches around to hug him from behind, "No, no Gabe. There's no reason to be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Bu..bu..but I killed mom," the words were said with such self loathing Kat knew Gabe was thinking of suicide again.

"No! You didn't kill mom." she stated with such resolve that she felt her brother jerk with reaction. She needed to get him off of that track before he could harm himself in self hatred. Only through Gabe's stupendous endurance did he survive the last attempt to kill himself and she didn't want him to try again.

"How can you know? You were too young to remember," Gabe challenged in the same self destructive voice. His many bruises and whelts were already visibly smaller.

"You were with Grandma and Grandpa the night ma was killed," she admitted. Grandpa had told her the night he died in the hospital. He had called her to his bedside to share a last few words with her after Gabe, Peter, and her Father had already withdrawn into the hallway. He had told her that someone needed to know and that he was trusting her to use the information wisely. She didn't understand at the time why it was a secret but it had been Grandpa's dying wish that it remain so until a time when it was most needed. She had kept her promise but now she felt it was time to tell her embattled brother in order to keep him alive. Whether she was doing him a favour or not, since he would just be subject to her father's drunken beatings, remained to be seen. She knew, though, that she couldn't bear the thought of life without her brother protector, her best friend. Besides, when their oldest brother, Peter, had moved to Vancouver for work, he had left the care of Gabe in her hands, and she knew he would no more wish to see Gabe dead than she.

Gabriel inhaled sharply, "Really?" he asked, a painful hope present in his voice.

"Yes, really. Remember when Grandpa died?" Gabe nodded in agreement. "Well he told me after you, Pete, and Father left the room. He made me keep it a secret until I felt I had no choice but to tell you; although I don't know why." The change in her brother's voice, heart-wrenching as it was, made her sigh with relief.

"But, then why does pa hate me and say I killed her all the time?"

The betrayal and sadness in Gabe's voice was too much for Kat's 6 year old mental toughness to take, "Ohh I don't know Gabe!" she said, voice breaking and tears springing to her eyes at her brother's predicament and her father's refusal to give the love his son so desperately craved.

"Kat! What's wrong?" Gabe asked, concern dripping from him as he rolled into a sitting position to hug his sister.

Unintentionally, Kat had triggered her brother's overprotective gene. Coupled with his simple mind's inability to focus on more than one subject at a time, the result was that the problem with their father was forgotten for the moment. Gabe also had troubles connecting events, which was why, where most people would automatically attach Kat's sudden tears as a response to his pitiable situation, Gabe assumes a bee stung her on the foot. Sniffing, and smiling fondly at him she says, "Nothing Gabe. I'm alright. I just stubbed my to is all." She hated lying to him but she didn't want to get him started down his dark path again so made this rare exception.

"Well, you should be more carfeul. You could get gangrene." Gabe admonished, very seriously.

Kat's laugh brought a smile to his face, "Oh Gabe sometimes I wonder if your left lobe knows the right lobe is there," she teased. At the blank look on his face she laughed again and suggested, "Let's go outside and play in the hay!" Gabe brightened at the idea and rushed past her. "And no cow tipping this time!" she shouted after him, running to catch up.

[Now]

The wounds on Lobe shrink until they disappear. He grows until he regains his former size and then sits up. Blinking rapidly, he looks around at everyone, taking in his surroundings. When he sees the green girl floating in the air his face breaks into a large smile. Getting up, he walks over to her and says, "Hello nice miss. You are awfully pretty. I'm Lobe."